She's married. I remind myself as she passes by my office.
Vanessa Harrison has extraordinary creative assets. With a Bachelor's degree from Savannah College of Art and Design, I can see why she made a great impression on all of her professors. I skim through the paperwork from her original application for Blue Sky again. All of her professors gave her glowing reviews.
Efficient, intelligent and creative. Reads one. The letter goes on to name her original concepts and ideas in a course about graphic design. I smile to myself as I think about the way her eyebrows scrunched together when I told her I didn't like the city. So passionate and headstrong. I like that.
A melodious laugh cuts through the glass separating me from the rest of the office, and when I look up from my desk she's there, talking with another employee, just outside my door.
It's like she's in slow motion. Her dark, short hair is pinned halfway back, showing off her high cheekbones and her eyes screw shut as she brings her hand to her mouth to muffle yet another giggle.
I can't help but stare at her as she nods to her coworker during their conversation. What is it that they're talking about? And does she have to do it right in front of my office? It's very distracting having her here...
I shake my head, reminding myself that she's married. Again. And I'm her boss.
I watch as Vanessa and her coworker walk away, stopping in front of Rebecca Wilson's office. They're a depiction of millennial success, holding their iPads as Rebecca appears from her office, gesturing towards the conference room with an outstretched arm.
It's been almost four whole days since I last spoke to her in the store parking lot. Although I've looked through her company profile several times already and tell myself it's just research to determine whose roles are vital here at Blue Sky, I feel like I need to know more about Vanessa Harrison. I want to know the way she likes her coffee. I want to know if she prefers football or basketball. I want to know how she felt about the unintentional kiss I gave her on the back of her hand...
I remember it like it was just minutes ago. I didn't know what I had done until after I had done it. It's like it was magnetic, or electric. Hell, I don't know what the romantics call it these days. All I know is that I wanted to do it again as soon as I pulled out of the lot.
Why does she have to be married?
I could have her by now. She could be mine right now, if she wasn't married.
But she is married. My conscience tells me. I roll my eyes at my thoughts.
Marriage is an institution. It's used to sucker those poor fuckers in love into thinking that they need to spend thousands of dollars on one day to be happy for the rest of their lives. Most of them end up divorced before their first year is up.
I realize that I've been sitting here for twenty minutes thinking about Vanessa, so I decide to get a coffee in order to be more productive.
"Oh, um Mr. Peters. You don't need to get your own coffee, I can grab one for you!" My assistant calls after me as I walk past her desk.
"I have my own pair of perfectly functioning legs, Gemma," I say to her. "Thank you, though."
As I round the corner of the break room with a fresh cup of coffee in hand, I notice Vanessa entering the print room.
It's not a large room; maintained and used mostly by the creative department for large scale prints. I hardly see anyone go in there, but of course there she is.
I have two options:
One. I listen to the nagging voice in the back of my mind that tells me to keep walking to my office.
Or two. I tell the voice to shut the fuck up and follow her into the print room.
YOU ARE READING
For A Reason
ChickLit"I just thought..." I begin, flustered, not really sure where my words are headed. He shakes his head. "We can't," he states, removing my hand from his. "There are a million reasons why we can't." He runs a hand through his hair, seemingly frustrate...
