Our Little Secret

Music: In the Middle - Sugababes

So Foxy Scott and I kissed at our office Christmas party and swapped phone numbers in the space of a minute.  My boyfriend Matt was just around the corner in the bar, but did I feel guilty?  Did I hell.  Matt was a manipulative arsehole who was going to propose to me on Christmas Day.

But what was I doing?

The fact that Foxy Scott had a girlfriend didn’t even enter my head.  I know, I'm a bitch right?

Well maybe.  I was drunk and caught up in the moment.  I felt attractive and desired again by someone who had been listening to what I had to say without rubbishing what I thought.  The fact that he was drop dead gorgeous and told me that he fancied me as well made me feel fantastic.

I also felt the thrill of the illicit:   No one else knew what had just happened. It was our little secret.

I left Foxy Scott and returned to the bar where everyone seemed to be getting ready to leave. Time had flown and it was about half one in the morning. Wow, I must have been a bit more drunk than I’d realised.

I stood chatting and saying goodbyes to my work mates as Foxy Scott walked past me. He didn’t say goodbye and he didn’t even look at me. Part of me wondered if it was because Matt was right there or if it was because he was embarrassed about what had just happened.

Before I could get too upset, I felt my mobile phone vibrate in my bag. Matt was busy arranging a night out with the team leader, so I unzipped my bag and saw that I’d received a new message:

From Foxy Scott:
I want you.

My heart started pounding again, and I clutched my phone to my chest in case anyone caught sight of the screen.

I glanced around but I couldn’t see him, but then out of the corner of my eye I spotted him waiting for a taxi outside.  I was standing slightly away from everyone else, so I immediately sent a reply:

To Foxy Scott:
Oh really? When?

Quite where I was getting this bravado from is beyond me. I can only think that after months of feeling like the inferior person in my relationship and due to a whole load of sexual frustration it bubbled up from under the surface. The sex life that Matt and I had was no more than a once a week going through the motions quick pump-pump squirt, and I hadn’t feel my whole body tingle like it was now in so long I couldn’t even remember.

My phone vibrated.

From Foxy Scott:
Come back to mine tonight x

No.

No that wasn’t going to happen. I wasn’t just going to run outside and jump into a taxi with him, leaving my boyfriend behind. Although it was so very tempting. I decided to play along thought as I was enjoying the buzz of adrenaline.

To Foxy Scott:
Sorry I can’t. I would have loved to though ;)

Buzz.

From Foxy Scott:
OK.  Speak to you tomorrow x

Ahh yes, the football game was tomorrow. We had made a drunken wager on the outcome of the game, and the winner would pocket the princely sum of £10.  Yes, we're talking big money here folks.

I put my phone back in my bag and smiled contentedly to myself. Knowing something that no-one else did even though they had only been metres away made me feel like I had electricity flowing through me.

Matt finally came over as he’d finished organizing his social calendar and we went outside and jumped in a taxi. Fortunately Foxy Scott had already left so there was no awkward goodbye between the three of us.

“Did you have a good night?"  Matt said whilst stifling a yawn.  "I thought it was alright. A bit shit though.".

“I thought it was really good actually," I replied.  "Much better than last year.”

And I really, really meant it.

But what the hell was I thinking?  Foxy Scott wasn't single and neither was I. 

That was the problem:  I wasn't thinking.  Well not about that anyway.

Crossing the Line

Music: She Wolf - Shakira

So there I was at my office Christmas party, flirting unashamedly with Foxy Scott, a man who wasn't my boyfriend.  The fact that Matt, my boyfriend, was only metres away didn't bother me at all.  I mean, he was a total wanker and was going to propose to me on Christmas Day...

But back to the party...

Despite all the flirting I knew that Foxy Scott had a girlfriend as she came to the work's do last year.  For some reason she wasn’t with him tonight.  Or had they split up?

“So how come you’ve come on your own tonight?  Did your girlfriend not fancy it?” I asked, glancing at Matt who seemed to have realised that Scott and I had been chatting for quite some time.

A large part of me hoped that Scott would say he was single.

“Oh, she’s off visiting her family this weekend and she left early,” he replied.

Oh.  Never mind.

I was glad that she hadn’t been able to make it though, as I was enjoying the attention and the flirty exchanges. I very much doubt we would have been having this conversation if his missus had been in tow.

Despite this, everything was all very innocent. True, there might have been some gentle flirting going on, but that’s what office Christmas parties are for, right?

Before tonight Scott and I had only exchanged about two words with each other, but now I was learning all about his favourite bands, the football team he plays for and what he wanted for Christmas.

I wasn’t the only one asking questions and he seemed really interested in me too. It’s almost like we were on a first date but without the expectation of a dodgy kiss at the end of the night. He was being really lovely.

And did I mention that he’s sexy?

Foxy Scott and I had been chatting for about forty five minutes when Matt stumbled over, having completed his monologue on effective management styles and patronising one of the team leaders. He pulled a chair over and sat next to me, and much to my annoyance I was obliged to introduce him to (Foxy) Scott.

“Matt, this is Scott. He’s one of the sale guys at my company. Scott, this is Matt. My boyfriend.” I sighed.

I knew full well that my lovely ego-boosting flirtatious conversation was now over.

After about ten minutes of sitting there watching Matt and Scott needling each other as they talked about football, I could tell that the atmosphere had changed so I excused myself and went to the loo. When I returned, Matt was sitting on his own.

“I don’t think Scott liked it when I came over,” Matt said, sounding quite pissed off.

“Oh why? How come?” I replied, knowing full well what he meant.

“He just seemed annoyed that I was interrupting your conversation. I’ve been watching you both and I think he was flirting with you,” he said.

Yeah. And?

Of course I denied it to keep to peace as I didn’t want to start having a row in the middle of my work’s Christmas party.  However I was secretly pleased that Matt was pissed off. My self-esteem had been given a massive boost too. I didn’t think Foxy Scott even knew I existed, and yet he had spent the best part of an hour flirting with me and talking with really good knowledge about the teams that I loved. I was having a really good night.

Desperate to avoid just sitting with Matt, I persuaded him that we should go and mingle as I didn’t want to appear anti-social.  We headed back to the bar where Round 15 of tequila slammers was in full flow.

I talked to some of my team for a while and Matt picked up his earlier conversation about how to be an effective manager. Yawn. By this point everyone was pretty drunk – it must have been about midnight but I’d totally lost track of time. I was lucky in a way as no one commented on how I’d been talking to Foxy Scott for so long as they’d all been distracted by the big reveal of new couple in the office.

We’d all known that Sean and Charlotte been seeing each other for ages, but it had never been confirmed until tonight when they were all over each other like a pair of frotting Bonobo monkeys. I was relieved in a way, as my colleagues teasing me would just have wound Matt up even more.

After a couple more drinks I needed the loo again, so I excused myself and started walking round the bar. The loos were hidden from the entire bar area at the other side of the room.

I checked my face in the mirror, and despite the several tequilas and all the wine I was still looking quite good. No smudged mascara, face not too shiny. A quick blot of powder and I was ready to go.

I was still putting my makeup back into my bag as I opened the door back to the bar so I wasn’t really concentrating.  As I walked out of the door I practically fell over Foxy Scott who was just leaving the gents.

“Oh sorry!” I said, all apologetically. “Are you OK?”

“Yeah I’m fine,” he replied. “I was having much more fun earlier though,” he said with a cheeky smile.

“Oh yeah? Is that right?” I laughed.

Usually I would feel so awkward in a situation like this, but for some reason I felt über-confident.

“You know,” said he said, suddenly sounding really nervous, “I’ve always really fancied you.”

WHAT!

Whoa! WOW! Wow. Wow. Wow. No way.

“Really?” I said, not even attempting to mask the surprise in my voice. “Well I think you’re really good looking too.”

The words had barely left my mouth and without thinking I pulled Scott towards me and passionately kissed him.

I still remember the look on his face as my lips withdrew from his. We only kissed for a few seconds, but his expression displayed his total disbelief. I mean, my boyfriend was just around the corner and anyone could have wandered over caught us in the act.

I just felt completely exhilarated. My heart was pounding and I could feel my cheeks flushing red. I hadn’t felt such a surge of adrenaline in years.

“Anyway,” I said, trying to regain a little composure, “You’ll have to give me your number so I can take mick when Arsenal get stuffed by Liverpool tomorrow and I win our bet!”

And do you know what? He did.

Football really did have a lot to answer for...

Foxy Scott

Music: Are 'Friends' Electric - Gary Numan

So there I was at my office Christmas party, when Foxy Scott, a gorgeous sales guy, caught my eye and started to walk over. The fact that Matt, my boyfriend, was only metres away didn't bother me at all. I mean, he was a total wanker and was going to propose to me on Christmas Day...

Only two people in the whole world call sexy sales man Scott from my office Foxy Scott.

They are me (obviously) and my team leader (who is gay).

We coined the name at a work’s conference earlier in the year as it was better than hobnobbing with the management with a fixed grin plastered across our faces. It’s not often that we all get together as a company and this was one of those corporate nipple-twisting days when all the offices from across the country meet up to be bored to tears listening to wanky management presentations.

The whole day had been pretty tedious so by the time we got to the evening and had sampled the delights of the free bar, my team leader and I were pretty tipsy and we decided to survey the company’s male population and gave them rankings. Scott came out at the top of both our lists, so the name stuck.

Scott (a.k.a. Foxy Scott) is twenty eight and has worked for the company in the sales team for just over a year. Looks wise, he is about 5ft 10” tall, medium build with light brown hair, a gorgeous smile and bright blue eyes. He plays football for a local amateur team so he is pretty athletic, he supports Arsenal and that is about all I knew about him.

He sounds really plain, but believe me he is undeniably handsome. Sometimes I’d hear him on the phone on my way to a meeting and swoon as he worked his sexy suave salesman voice. It wasn’t smarmy or the usual salesman slick, but deep and lilting. I wonder if he won a lot of business from women. Well he would if they arranged a meeting with him I’m sure...

Anyway back to the Christmas do...

I was sitting at a table near the bar after one too many tequila slammers when Foxy Scott came and sat next to me and started chatting. I could tell that he’d had quite a few beers himself as he was always relatively quiet at work (for a salesman anyway) but now he started to jabber away.

“Well hello,” he said as he pulled up a chair. “What are you doing all on your own?”

I have to admit I was surprised he knew who I was, never mind the fact that he was sitting down next to me for a chat.

“I’m just having a breather from all the tequila slammers,” I replied, laughing.

And a break from my overbearing boyfriend.

“Yeah I know what you mean,” Scott continued. “They’re absolutely killer. So are you having a good night then?”

“Yeah not bad,” I said as I took a sip of my vodka lime and soda. “It’s a pity we’re not in the centre of town. It would have been loads better to move on to some bars.”

“Definitely,” Scott replied as he eyed me with his twinkling blue eyes.

We started to talk about a lot of random stuff and we sparked up a brilliant conversation. I think Scott must sit at work and take everything in, as he knew which rugby and football teams I support and talked with great knowledge about them both. Purely by coincidence, my football team (Liverpool) was playing his (Arsenal) that weekend, so there was lots of friendly and flirty banter going back and forth.

“I bet you ten pounds that your team loses on Sunday,” I said confidently as Scott sipped his pint.

“Are you sure about that?” he said laughing. His face was animated and gorgeous, and he looked great in his casual black jumper and jeans.

Sexy great.

“Definitely,” I replied.

No, no, no! Never bet on anything when you’re drunk.

I couldn’t back down now though. This was fun.

“OK then, you’re on,” Scott said, offering me his hand so we could shake on the bet.

As he held out his hand, a tantalizing smile played on his lips.

I took his hand and he shook it firmly before he leant back in his chair and smiled at me.

The conversation. The bet. His twinkling eyes.

He was flirting with me. He was definitely flirting with me.

I think...