5 Days a Week: Tuesday (contemporary office romance) Read Online Free
Author: V T Turner
take that away from her.
Mark
His eyes lit up when he saw Shelly at her desk. He was on the phone trying to sell to someone who didn’t want to buy, and he hadn’t seen her enter. When his eyes passed across her desk in hope -- for the dozenth time that day -- he nearly jumped for joy when he saw her sitting there.
“Hello? Hello?”
The buzzing in his ear reminded him he was still on the phone. “Sorry sir,” he said, his tone changing from the melancholic meanderings of a forlorn lover to the delighted chatter of a man whose worst fears had been rebuffed; Shelly hadn’t left the office, or her job, for good.
He caught her eye a few times. At one point she gave him a wide smile that melted his heart, he couldn’t hide the obvious look of delight that edged its ways across his face when she grinned at him. She was on the phone, making a play of strangling herself with the cord. He laughed, she winked at him and continued her conversation, he felt giddy with excitement.
He met her at the water cooler before lunch, bolting out of his seat -- rushing to finish a call -- when he saw her getting up to go for a drink.
“Hey,” she beamed at him when he walked over.
“Hey Shelly, how are you?” he ask as casually as he could, taking a Styrofoam cup and bending down to fill it.
“I’m good,” she said with a nod. “Tired, but good.”
“Not sleep much?
“Too much actually,” she said. “That’s why I was late. I slept in.”
“Oh,” he straightened up. “You were late, what time did you get here?” he immediately regretted asking. He wanted to sound disinterested, didn’t want her to know he had spent his day pining over her, but he didn’t want to sound too disinterested.
“Not so long ago,” she said meekly, her eyes wandering over his shoulder and back again. She looked like she had something on her mind, he realized his comment had hurt her. She was new after all, he was the only person she had really spoken to, other than Sissy. She probably felt alone and he had just essentially told her that even he hadn’t been paying enough attention to her to know whether she was at the office or not.
“Well, better get back to work,” she said, drinking the last of her water and scrunching the cup in her hand.
He nodded, smiled meekly and watched her go, mumbling distasteful comments under his breath, hating himself.
Ian Matthews
He was on his way to see his wife, calculating what he was going to say in his head, when he saw Sissy. She was coming out of a pharmacy, a small bag in her hand, a complex and thoughtful expression on her face.
He managed to suppress his desire to slam his foot on the brakes and stop in the middle of the street. He parked as close to the road as he could, slammed his hand on the horn when he saw her shifting into her car through the rearview mirror. She paused and looked up, confused; that was all he needed to make his move. He bolted out of the car, waved maniacally at her. She looked perplexed at first but eventually she forced a smile and waved back, a little unsurely.
She moved towards him when he approached, moving to hug him, then she saw the anger on his face and took a step backwards.
“What the fuck are you playing at?” he barked.
She took another step back, noting that he was edging closer. “What do you mean?” she asked, trying to apply a smile to her bemused face.
“I know what you’re up to.”
She looked down at the bag in her hand, then back at him, an expression of haunting realization creased her features. “You do?”
He nodded. “You make me sick.”
“It’s not my fault,” she told him.
He stamped his feet, threw his arms out exasperatedly. A few pedestrians stopped to look, concerned at the level of noise, but they continued on, perhaps a little slower than usual in case they missed any of the drama.
“Of course
Mark
His eyes lit up when he saw Shelly at her desk. He was on the phone trying to sell to someone who didn’t want to buy, and he hadn’t seen her enter. When his eyes passed across her desk in hope -- for the dozenth time that day -- he nearly jumped for joy when he saw her sitting there.
“Hello? Hello?”
The buzzing in his ear reminded him he was still on the phone. “Sorry sir,” he said, his tone changing from the melancholic meanderings of a forlorn lover to the delighted chatter of a man whose worst fears had been rebuffed; Shelly hadn’t left the office, or her job, for good.
He caught her eye a few times. At one point she gave him a wide smile that melted his heart, he couldn’t hide the obvious look of delight that edged its ways across his face when she grinned at him. She was on the phone, making a play of strangling herself with the cord. He laughed, she winked at him and continued her conversation, he felt giddy with excitement.
He met her at the water cooler before lunch, bolting out of his seat -- rushing to finish a call -- when he saw her getting up to go for a drink.
“Hey,” she beamed at him when he walked over.
“Hey Shelly, how are you?” he ask as casually as he could, taking a Styrofoam cup and bending down to fill it.
“I’m good,” she said with a nod. “Tired, but good.”
“Not sleep much?
“Too much actually,” she said. “That’s why I was late. I slept in.”
“Oh,” he straightened up. “You were late, what time did you get here?” he immediately regretted asking. He wanted to sound disinterested, didn’t want her to know he had spent his day pining over her, but he didn’t want to sound too disinterested.
“Not so long ago,” she said meekly, her eyes wandering over his shoulder and back again. She looked like she had something on her mind, he realized his comment had hurt her. She was new after all, he was the only person she had really spoken to, other than Sissy. She probably felt alone and he had just essentially told her that even he hadn’t been paying enough attention to her to know whether she was at the office or not.
“Well, better get back to work,” she said, drinking the last of her water and scrunching the cup in her hand.
He nodded, smiled meekly and watched her go, mumbling distasteful comments under his breath, hating himself.
Ian Matthews
He was on his way to see his wife, calculating what he was going to say in his head, when he saw Sissy. She was coming out of a pharmacy, a small bag in her hand, a complex and thoughtful expression on her face.
He managed to suppress his desire to slam his foot on the brakes and stop in the middle of the street. He parked as close to the road as he could, slammed his hand on the horn when he saw her shifting into her car through the rearview mirror. She paused and looked up, confused; that was all he needed to make his move. He bolted out of the car, waved maniacally at her. She looked perplexed at first but eventually she forced a smile and waved back, a little unsurely.
She moved towards him when he approached, moving to hug him, then she saw the anger on his face and took a step backwards.
“What the fuck are you playing at?” he barked.
She took another step back, noting that he was edging closer. “What do you mean?” she asked, trying to apply a smile to her bemused face.
“I know what you’re up to.”
She looked down at the bag in her hand, then back at him, an expression of haunting realization creased her features. “You do?”
He nodded. “You make me sick.”
“It’s not my fault,” she told him.
He stamped his feet, threw his arms out exasperatedly. A few pedestrians stopped to look, concerned at the level of noise, but they continued on, perhaps a little slower than usual in case they missed any of the drama.
“Of course
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