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Ever since I got promoted at work, I've been stealing glances at my boss. He's so handsome with his tall frame, dark eyes and silver hair. He's far from intimidating, but there's something about him that makes my insides flutter. It's a horrible school girl crush. There's no way we could be together. Yet, everytime he says my name my heart starts hammering.

*quot;Elena?*quot; I hear my name from his lips and look up from my laptop.

*quot;Yes?*quot; I stammer, taking a small sip of coffee hoping to maintain some composure.

*quot;Have a minute?*quot;

*quot;Of course!*quot; I reply a little too enthusiastically that my voice squeaks with the final syllable.

I follow David to his office and sit uneasily across from his desk.

*quot;So, how are you adjusting to your new position?*quot; He asks leaning back in his chair.

*quot;Very well thank you. The transition has been smooth.*quot;

*quot;Excellent to hear.*quot; He says. *quot;If you need anything at all, let me know.*quot; His smile is so sincere.

*quot;Thank you.*quot; I return the smile and try to breathe slower than a thousand miles a minute.

*quot;There's one more thing, I don't mean to impose, but the holiday Christmas party is coming up and you're more than welcome to attend. It would be a great networking opportunity for you.*quot;

*quot; I appreciate the invitation.*quot; I smile and cross my legs, attempting to be casual and collected.

The holiday party is not open to associates, my previous role within the company, only higher ups. As I've recently accepted a quality assessor position, I can purchase a ticket to attend. All the proceeds go to charity. There's an open bar, a silent auction and dancing. I'm excited and anxious to impress David. I thank him graciously and bury myself in my work for the rest of the morning. At lunch, I leave to go to a small cafe up the street. I order my usual, half a turkey bravo sandwich and butternut squash soup with an iced tea. I huddle over my phone in the corner, reliving the events of the morning. My heart is exploding with promise. It's slightly sickening. I browse a few online shops for a party dress. I take a liking to a charcoal grey long-sleeved number that comes down to the thigh and has a low back, but I'm unable to pull the add to cart trigger. I fear I'll stand out at the party like a sore thumb - the newbie. Ugh. I think to myself.

As I get up to leave and return to work, I notice a familiar face. It's you.

*quot;Hello Elena,*quot; You smile at me and I ignore the feeling that this is more than a professional greeting.

*quot;David, Hi.*quot; I return your smile. I find it odd I've never seen you here before, I'm here all the time.

*quot;Medium coffee please.*quot; He says to the barista. *quot;And a pumpkin scone.*quot; Then he turns to me. *quot;Will I see you at the party this weekend?*quot;

*quot;I'm still considering if I'll be attending.*quot; I say.

*quot;You should.*quot; You reply. I excuse myself and head back to the office, palms sweating thinking of the interaction.

The rest of the week is a blur of documents and meetings. It's been a big push at the office to approve call scripts and test surveys and we prepare for our busy season. My email inbox is cluttered with a thousand emails and I'm frustrated only a handful concern me. Meeting request after meeting request ping away at me so much so I feel I'm losing my mind. It's Wednesday and a particular meeting request at 5:45 catches my eyes. It's from you and no else is CC'd on the email. It strikes me as odd no one else in the office will be here as it's after company time for most of us. I accept and wait until the given hour, my mind unable to pull away from the thought that it's bad news. The hours tick down and I attempt to lose myself in a contact document until finally the reminder banner chimes at 5:30. I huff exhausted and close down my computer for the evening. I walk to the bathroom to splash some water on my face. You can do this. I think to myself. I return to my desk and all but twiddle thumbs, anxiety rising high in my chest. Finally I notice you leave your desk and walk across the production floor. I suppose it has reached an appropriate time to walk to the conference room if you're going in there. I follow behind you not saying a word. I'm too nervous.

*quot;Elena, thank you for meeting me. I know it's unorthodox to stay later for a meeting and I appreciate it.*quot; you say when I walk in.

*quot;Thank you.*quot; I choke out, my throat begins to close up and I regret not bringing in the iced tea at my desk.

*quot;Are you alright?*quot;

*quot;Yes. Fine.*quot; I nod.

*quot;So I've called you in here because I wanted to give you something as a thank you. You've shown incredible potential in your first few weeks here and I think you've been adjusting well.*quot;

*quot;Thank you.*quot; I smile beylikdüzü ucuz escort unsure where this is going.

*quot;You don't have to open it now.*quot; You pulled an envelope out of your binder and present it to me across the table and beam at me.

*quot;Oh, why thank you.*quot; This clearly is not disciplinary procedure. Your praise means the obvious opposite. A christmas bonus perhaps.

*quot;That's all.*quot; You smile at me again. *quot;Have a good evening Elena. I'll see you tomorrow.*quot;

I don't open the envelope. Instead I tuck it in my bag and drive home. I wait until I'm in my bedroom, door locked before I take it out. I sit on my bedroom floor and tear through the paper. Inside is a ticket to the christmas party. There's no note, no check. It's a single ticket to this weekend's event. He really wants me to go. I pour a glass of wine and pace around my apartment. What's the obvious solution here? I wonder. GO. One half of my heart says. I remember the dress in my online shopping cart. Just go. The other half of my heart says. I buy the dress, I find matching shoes in my closet, and it's settled. Thursday and Friday come and go. Saturday finally arrives and it's time to get ready for tonight's big event. I should be over the moon, but I find myself dragging my feet. I'm reeling at the thought of seeing you, fearing I'll make a fool of myself and still curious why you made sure I would attend. I put the thought in the corner of my mind and apply cream shadow and a deep purple lip. I decide on ubering to the hotel and arrive twenty minutes after eight. I wonder if I should ask you about the ticket or leave it be.

When I arrive I make my way to the bar immediately to settle my nerves with a gin and tonic.

*quot;Bombay and Tonic.*quot; I request kindly to the bartender.

*quot;Right away.*quot; He promises and promptly returns with my order.

I tip, say thank you and find the ballroom. The party is in full swing already. Men are laughing, women with drinks in hand have their jewelry sparkling. I feel slightly out of place in my department store earrings and try not to teeter out of heels I regret are too big for my feet. This feels like a mistake already. I feel like I should just give up and go home when I spot you amongst the thinning crowd. You see me too and raise your glass to mine. I should be sashaying across the dance floor and thanking you for the ticket, say something smart and charming. My feet take charge and the next thing I know I stand before you faking my brightest smile for a vote of confidence.

*quot;David I just wanted to thank you for the ticket.*quot;

*quot;Oh you're quite welcome. I didn't want you to miss such an opportunity to showcase your talents. Can I get you another drink?*quot;

*quot;Oh... yes.*quot; I accept not knowing what else to say.

I follow you to the bar and I notice you place your hand on the small of my back as we weave through people. I don't dismiss it.

*quot;What are you having?*quot; You ask me.

*quot;Um, Bombay and tonic.*quot; I reply still feeling your hand on my back when the bartender walks our way.

*quot;Bombay and tonic for the lady and I'll have scotch neat.*quot; the bartender nods and exits to make our drinks.

*quot;There's some people I'd like you to meet if you don't mind.*quot; You say. *quot;Others in the company I think you'd work well with if you need help.*quot;

*quot;I'd love to meet them.*quot; I smile as the bartender returns.

*quot;This way.*quot; You say and guide me back across the floor. You introduce me to four team leads - Justin, Jami, Liz and Paul.

*quot;This is whom I was telling you about, meet Elena Caroline. She's our newest quality accessor. Good luck Elena.*quot; You exit, leaving me to continue the conversation. They are very welcoming, chatty even, asking many questions about my personal and professional life in a collaborative effort. This feels much more my speed and much more in my comfort level. I let the booze go to my head a little and flash a huge smile when I finally bow out.

*quot;It's been a pleasure.*quot; I shake each of their hands and go to find my coat. I've gotten what I came here for.

*quot;Elena I didn't expect you to leave so soon.*quot; Your gait is broken and hurried as if you are trying not to run after me.

*quot;I've had an amazing time.*quot; I reply. *quot;Thank you, really.*quot;

*quot;Elena...*quot; You say my name again like you're searching for something - the right words to communicate what you're trying to say.

*quot;Yes?*quot; I press.

*quot;I didn't expect you to leave so soon.*quot; You repeat. *quot;Would you stay?*quot; I'm stunned by your request as your hand reaches out to me. I take it instinctively, it fits perfectly around mine and sends electric currents through my whole body. You lead me back to the ballroom beylikdüzü üniversiteli escort and pull me close to whisper something.

*quot;Elena, the last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable, but I am insanely attracted to the woman you are.*quot; I feel as if the wind has been knocked out of me.

*quot;Oh David,*quot; I begin. *quot;I don't know what to say.*quot; Say anything! My insides are screaming. *quot;I'm not sure how appropriate this is...*quot;

*quot;It's not.*quot; Your hot words cut me off. *quot;I wanted you here so you could see your potential in this company, but also for some incredibly selfish reasons that are tearing me apart.*quot;

*quot;Are they?*quot; I press, trying to understand the gravity of the situation.

*quot;They are. How can I be a moral man when I'm attracted to you? Elena, all night I've been picturing you out of that dress and I know how inappropriate it was to touch you the way I did.*quot;

Oh.

*quot;David, please.*quot;

*quot;You're right. This is about you, not me.*quot; Your eyes search mine for any sign of reciprocation.

Without thinking, I pull your body into mine and kiss you feverishly. It's deep and consuming, melting us together like alchemy.

*quot;Elena - *quot; You stammer as we part.

*quot;Yes David, the answer is yes. I will stay with you.*quot; I finally say. *quot;But no one at work can know, I don't want to compromise my professional status.*quot;

*quot;Don't worry about that. I'll protect you and I promise to never put you in harm's way.*quot; Somewhere in that sentence is an ulterior meaning, but I decide to take it at face value. David will make as sure as I that we won't compromise the working relationship between us or my place in the company.

Your hand laces with mine as we make way back to the party. The silent auction is about to begin.

*quot;Did you bid on anything?*quot; I ask you.

*quot;Was just about to.*quot; You reply. *quot;Stay here.*quot; You disappear into the crowd.

Nothing truly interested me this year. Some years are certainly better than others. This year they were auctioning some jewelry, a boat, some steaks and some gift cards. Office gossip says one year someone won a trip to Aspen. I see you making your way towards me and decide to meet you in the middle.

*quot;All set?*quot; I take the last sip of my drink.

*quot;Yes.*quot; You smile brightly. *quot;Another drink?*quot;

*quot;Please.*quot; I say nodding.

*quot;What can I get you?*quot; You ask as we approach the bar top. *quot;Another G