Forty-six

FLASHBACK

Benett

The glow of dawn had barely begun to light the horizon when I was already sitting behind my desk at the office, facing another day loaded with responsibilities. The monotonous sound of the coffee machine in the background filled the silence as I reviewed the emails that had piled up overnight. Each message was a reminder of the weight of my responsibilities and the expectations that rested on my shoulders.

I was immersed in a complicated report when I heard a soft knock at the door. "Come in," I called, without lifting my eyes from the document.

The door opened, and through my limited focus on the paper, I noticed the elegant shoes and confident stride of Clara, my secretary. She approached with a stack of documents and a professional expression.

"Good morning, Bennett. Here are the reports you requested and today's schedule," said Clara, placing the papers on my desk with an efficiency I always admired.

"Thank you, Clara," I replied, finally looking up at her. Her presence was always a reminder of competence and order, starkly contrasting with the emotional turmoil I faced at home.

Clara smiled, a brief gesture that carried genuine cordiality. "Is there anything else I can help with? Any special preparation for the board meeting?"

"Actually, yes," I said, realizing how easy it was to get lost in work conversations with her. "Could you check if the presentation aligns with the new quarter's data? And, if you could, bring some coffee. It's going to be a long day."

"Of course, I'll be back in a few minutes," she replied, turning to leave.

As Clara left, I couldn't help but notice the grace with which she moved, each step measured and secure. She was the image of professionalism, something I deeply respected. However, there was something more in recent weeks, a growing curiosity about who she was outside this controlled environment.

When Clara returned with the coffee, I noticed a slight ink stain on her blouse, almost imperceptible. "Looks like the pen won today," I commented, discreetly pointing to the stain.

She looked down and laughed, a sound that seemed to light up the room. "It seems so. That's the battle of the hidden dangers of the office."

Her laughter triggered something in me, a slight relaxation at the corners of my usually tense mind. "You always have such a positive outlook, Clara. How do you manage?"

Clara sat in the chair across from my desk, the formality giving way to a moment of genuine humanity. "I think it's just a matter of choosing to focus on what can be done, not what's wrong. Plus, working here is a constant challenge, but it's also rewarding. Like you, I appreciate what we do here."

Our eyes met, and for a moment, I could see beyond the efficient secretary. I saw an intelligent and reflective woman, someone who shared a similar passion for precision and success.

"We do appreciate it," I agreed, feeling an unexpected connection. "And how do you handle challenges outside of work? Any special secrets?"

She hesitated, then smiled. "Well, I try to maintain a balance. I spend time with my family, read a lot, and sometimes just walking outdoors is enough to recharge."

"Balance is key," I murmured, thinking about how my life had been anything but balanced lately.

The rest of the morning passed with smooth efficiency. Clara helped me prepare everything for the meeting, each detail meticulously checked and every document perfectly aligned.
That day, after a highly productive meeting, Clara and I worked together in the office to finalize some details. The inherent proximity of our joint work, combined with the tension of recent days, seemed to amplify every small gesture and look. She was leaning over the table, aligning papers for the next presentation when an unexpected incident nearly transformed our professional relationship into something more.

"May I check that chart again, Clara?" I asked, extending my hand to take one of the documents. At that moment, we both leaned forward, driven by simultaneous impulse.

At that critical instant, Clara slightly lost her balance, tripping over a stack of books next to the table that had not been put back on the shelf. To stabilize her, I instinctively held her arms. She fell slightly against me, causing my arousal to brush against her body and swiftly arousing me.

"It seems I'm a bit clumsy today," she said with a nervous laugh, clearly trying to defuse the tense moment.

I slowly released her, aware of each movement. "It's alright, Clara. It happens," I replied, my voice huskier than intended.

We both stepped back, adjusting our posture and expressions to something more appropriate for the workplace. Clara adjusted her blouse and smoothed her hair, while I tried to recompose my thoughts.