Christmas Temptation

Christmas music rang out as Tracy glanced across the room.  She caught Oliver’s eye and then glanced away, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, and continued her conversation with Jill, the company’s head of human resources.  Jill was wearing a Rudolph sweater with a large glowing nose that Tracy could not stop staring at when she was not looking around the room for Oliver.

What Tracy really wanted to do is walk across the room, grab Oliver by the back of the head, and give him the same big kiss he gave her below the mistletoe outside the bathrooms at last year's company Christmas party.  Given the current circumstances, that would not be possible.  Not only was he the company CEO and it would be dangerous to her career if anyone saw, but his wife of fifteen years had been glued to his side all night.  It was never Tracy’s intention to take advantage of the woman’s illness last year that kept her from coming, but Tracy couldn’t help but wish that she would fall ill again this year.

Since that night at the last Christmas party, Oliver would brush a hand against her at the coffeemaker.  Or she would bend at a strategic angle showing the roundness of her butt.  The flirtation never extended past these insignificant gestures.  He was the CEO of a multibillion dollar company and she was a junior accountant who the company promoted from an intern the summer before last year’s Christmas party.  

Tracy took a sip of buttery Chardonnay from her wine glass.  She was done listening to Jill talk about her daughter’s upcoming part in her school play.  Could she at least find Fred?  Fred, the assistant to the creative director, was lively and had a great sense of humor that Tracy could laugh at. 

“Please excuse me.  I need to find the restroom,” Tracy said, walking away before Jill could respond. 

She searched the room, looking for Fred’s purple suit jacket.  She searched the crowd, dodging Riata from digital Marketing and Linda from Sales.  Then she spotted him.  Of course he was over by the bar.  Tracy bellied up to the bar next to Oliver, downing her wine and motioning to the bartender for another. 

“Did you see how hot Oliver looks in that suite tonight?” Fred said. 

“Don’t remind me,” Tracy took the full glass from the bartender. 

“You are so much hotter than his wife,” Fred tilted his head and curled his upper lip in disgust.  “You are so lucky.” 

Tracy knew Fred was not referring to the kiss last year.   

“Because I am a woman?” 

“A desirable woman.  I mean look at you.  You could have any man in this room including the hot boss.” 

Tracy shrugged.  Half of her wanted to end the conversation and the other half wanted to talk about Oliver all night.  

“It would never work between us.” 

“Because he is married?  That never stopped powerful men like him before.”  

Tracy knew that was true but she refused to be the statistic that confirmed it.  “No, because he is the boss and I respect him.” 

“Respect?  Is that what you have for his tight ass?  Look at that thing,” Fred turned his head toward Oliver and raised his eyebrows.

Tracy reached out and touched his arm. “Stop.  You are being so obvious.” 

Although Tracy thought finding Fred would help her relax, she now found herself in the opposite predicament, talking about what she didn’t want to be thinking about.  She didn’t want to be at this boring party.  She didn’t want to talk to Jill or Riata or Sarah or even Fred.  What she wanted was to be alone, on her couch, watching Hallmark Christmas movies, and thinking about what if she and Oliver met at an ice rink or a Christmas tree farm?  At least in that case, it would be appropriate.  

“I need to use the restroom,” she said, using the same excuse she used to escape from Jill. 

“Well, don’t keep me from peeing your pants,” Fred waved Tracy off and she headed toward the bathrooms. 

She should have never come.  She should have stayed at home.  She snagged her coat from the coat check exchanging it for a ticket in her glittery red clutch and rushed out to the cold air outside.

She inhaled, glad no one caught on to her Houdini-like exit.  With her coat wrapped tightly around her, she extracted her phone from her clutch and opened the Uber app. 

“Tracy?” She heard a familiar male voice from behind her.  She spun around to see Oliver behind her.  He had perfectly quaffed his chocolate hair into a Clark Kent wave.  She never sickened of looking at his chiseled features.  How could such a powerful man also be so beautiful?   

“What do you want?” She asked, trying to sound annoyed.  Deep down, Tracy was happy to see him.  She secretly hoped that this was the Hallmark Christmas movie moment she had been waiting for all night. 

“I wanted to say goodbye,” he said as he closed the gap between them.

“You never said hello.” 

“I wanted to,” he lifted his hand as if to tuck his hair back and remembered the gel keeping it in place. 

“You wanted to do what?” Tracy asked with desperation.

“But I can’t,” Oliver said.

“Your wife…” Tracy started.

“My wife…” 

“And you are the CEO,” Tracy started.

“And I am the CEO,” Oliver agreed.

“And I am a low worker who would look like I was kissing the boss to get ahead,” Tracy finished.

 Oliver didn’t respond.  He nodded in agreement and looked down at his feet. 

A white car pulled up to where the two were standing with an “Uber” sticker in the top right of the windshield.

“Goodbye, Oliver.” 

“Goodbye, Tracy.” 

Snow fell on the road and the holiday lights shone in the sky as Tracy looked out the back window of the Uber, wishing Oliver would make a grand gesture. Not this evening and nor any evening after, Tracy would never get her Hallmark Christmas movie ending.