"So, what's up?" came the booming voice.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his hands as they tapped her desk, his shirt as he approached her. She had refused to look at him as she heard his heavy, reassuring footsteps rounding the corner by her desk.
Now she looked up to face him in surprise. Her lips parted, her blue eyes widened.
"Not much," she said shyly. She smiled.
"Not much?" His face lit up slightly, causing him to look more boyish than ever. The sandy blond hair, the suit, she took it all in as he stood there, facing her. She could not help but like the confident way he had just stepped right up to her desk, disregarding any possibility of rejection. How she wanted to snub him, to give him an ice cold answer, but she couldn't do it! He certainly was cute, outfitted with his blazer, which of course, did not make him look any older. Why, he looked younger with the jacket on!
What was there about a simple blazer that transformed the men who owned them? She had noticed it with all the young men in the office. They roamed the building in shirt and tie, but when it was time for a meeting across town or if they were leaving the office for lunch, the gray blazers were donned, zap. It glorified the man who wore it. The cute became sophisticated, the average became handsome, the young became experienced. She did not know quite what to make of it.
She also did not know what to make of this thing with her boss. Was something really going on? Was it just inside the office? Was it harmless flirting or a mad passionate affair, illicit liaisons sneaked in between the signing of contracts, sumptuous lunches for two, expertly timed so that Scott always left fifteen minutes earlier than she, and returned a deliberate fifteen minutes after her boss returned. Was it a long-time crush that Scott had had ever since that November day her boss was hired, three years ago? Was it only harmless flirting after all, or was Scott really as "flabbergasted" and "befuddled" as he said.
She had looked forward to his return from Europe that Monday morning. Whether an especially good weekend spent camping in Connecticut with her old college roommates, or the sultry summer sun, had lightened her mood as well as her hair, she was eager to see him again. Her hands were shaking. As she stood at the fax machine, dialing the number and inserting the paper, her legs wobbled. She waited for the beep. He was chatting with someone in the office behind her, but she would not look back.
She turned to ask the office manager for a number she needed. She looked up and there was Scott, towering over her.
He gazed down upon her with the longing of someone who has been away for a long time and has spent time thinking about someone he has not seen in a long time. He dreamily took in her suntanned face and radiant blue eyes; her hair bright from the summer sun since he had left.
"Hi," she said softly.
"Hiiiii, Debbieeee," he rolled her name slowly over his tongue, as if in the same way he would have liked his hands to slide over her body, as she drifted past him.
0767D
Summer 88
