They had made it to the final stretch. The mound of paperwork, once enormous, now consisted of a single file that they both agreed to reserve judgment on.
“Believe it or not, we did it.” Doctor Ellen Burgess stretched her tired body. When she had offered to assist him in clearing what paperwork she could, Ellen had no idea that it would be so monumental a task.
She looked at the five-inch stack of completed files with amazement. “Is your workload always like this?” A dimpled grin suddenly graced her face. “Or did you just want to impress me by the size of what you've got?”
Her startled colleague's eyes widened at the suggestive phrasing.
“Sorry,” Ellen murmured insincerely. “You're an old married man now. I can't flirt with you any more.” She got up from the hard wooden chair, feeling her muscles protest with every movement. “How long has it been for you and Lucy?”
“Seven months,” he replied grudgingly. ‘ Seven looong months ,” he thought. It was a marriage that should not have taken place. Marrying Lucy Coe was an impulsive act that he had since come to regret. Unfortunately, Lucy was blissfully happy.
“Wow! Congratulations! Nobody in the office pool bet that it would last longer than three.”
He smiled at her audacity. Ellen Burgess' frankness was perhaps the thing he loved most about her.
Quickly he amended his thought. It was the thing he admired most about her. He had to keep reminding himself that all he felt for his beautiful colleague was respect and admiration.
The soft strains of music filled the office. Ellen nodded with satisfaction at the station she had chosen. ‘Elevator music' some people would have called it. But it was perfect for the moment. Not strident or loud, the softly rendered music set a friendly but not intimate atmosphere.
“So,” Ellen looked him squarely in the eye, “how are you – really?”
He shook his head slowly. Ellen was not sure if it was a response to the query she had posed or an indicator that he would not address with her so personal a subject.
“I am still your friend,” she insisted softly.
“You are far more than that,” he averred. “And that is the problem…”
“I went into this marriage with Lucy promising myself that I wouldn't be the one to mess it up.” He caught the smile she tried to cover. “Don't laugh!”
Ellen couldn't help herself. “I am sorry. It's just that most newlyweds talk about doing whatever it takes to make the marriage perfect. You have already conceded that your marriage to Lucy won't work. You're worried about not being the first one to get caught admitting it!”
“The marriage is a mistake.” He closed his eyes and wearily allowed his head to fall back. “It is one gigantic mistake.”
Ellen circled the desk to stand behind him. Tenderly she began to massage his temples. At the touch of her fingers upon his skin, he released a slow, deep groan.
“Ellen, I promised…” he protested weakly.
“I know,” she responded, spinning his chair around and sitting down upon his lap. An impish smile appeared as she ground lightly against his growing hardness. “ You promised... But I didn't.”
Alan Quartermaine grasped Ellen's waist and held her more firmly against him. “I do love the way you think,” he growled.
“I thought you might,” Ellen smiled against his mouth. She shifted slightly and began to undo his belt. “Now, Doctor,” Ellen slipped a hand inside his pants, “let's see what we have here…”
