It was one of those 'anyplace but here' days in the office. A comfortably warm spring evening enticed people outside. When Tennyson wrote that in spring a young man's thoughts turn to love, he had this kind of day in mind.
However, Pam and Taylor were stuck inside. It couldn't be helped. The briefing package had to be ready for the Executive Committee meeting in the morning and they were the team leads. The project was a great opportunity for them to demonstrate to senior management their leadership skills and potential. As relatively junior associates at the firm, this was the biggest assignment they had each worked on and it was important enough to have career advancement potential. They had worked on the project for months and the outputs had exceeded expectations. Now, they just had to finish it up, present the findings and reap the rewards.
Pam was from Headquarters and Taylor represented the field offices. This was the first project they had worked together and they had hit it off well. Their skills complemented each other and their personalities had meshed. Both were serious about their jobs, but balanced it by not taking themselves too seriously.
Their work was spread out in the richly appointed main conference room where tomorrow's presentation would take place. It was state-of-the-art with a large highly polished mahogany table and deep leather chairs. The dark wood walls and the three modern starburst pattern ceiling lights always impressed clients. It also had a killer view through the room-length glass wall. The window afforded a panoramic view of the city, the water and the park. While wishing they could be among the early evening strollers below, they felt close enough to completion that it wasn't a large sacrifice.
Since everyone else had departed, they weren't slowed by interruptions. Working on their laptops, Taylor made the final edits on the report, while Pam polished the PowerPoint presentation. The pair worked quickly and occasionally consulted to decide on a change or confirm the final numbers.
They had finished most of the pizza they had ordered, but there was still plenty of the beer Taylor had brought. Spinning his chair back from the table, Taylor cracked open another bottle.
"Wow! Look at that sky." He said rising from his chair and approaching the window. The cumulus clouds were a perfect palette to display the angled sunlight and the first hints of a sunset. Most of the clouds were still bright white, but they started to have a tinge of red and orange.
Looking up, Pam was impressed. She typed out a few more words and joined him by the window. "Yah, that's going to be pretty tonight. The views in this room can be awesome."
Taylor stood on his toes and stretched his arms to relax his muscles. Tall and thin, he had a strong and wiry body to match his rock-climbing hobby. He wore suits well and today had on a tailored blue shirt and dark grey trousers. A deep red tie was loose at his neck. Running a hand through his hair, he glanced back at the table. "Would you like another beer?"
Pam hesitated a moment, then said, "Sure. I think I'm finished anyways." She leaned against the window, wiggled the toes on her bare feet and soaked in the changing kaleidoscope of colors in the sky.
Though much shorter than Taylor, she was comparably thin. Pam kept in shape and her salary allowed her to own a stylish wardrobe that gave her a contemporary, but classy, appearance. Although tomorrow she'd wear something pinstriped and corporate looking, today she wasn't as dressed-up as Taylor. Her outfit would fit in the broad 'business casual' definition. The top was a white, button-down shirt with princess seams to fit shapely across the bodice. The sleeves were partially rolled up. The top buttons were open to reveal a red, lace-trimmed camisole. The shirt was untucked over a black, multi-seamed cotton skirt. It was knee length and had an eye-catching fluid sway when she walked.
Taylor returned and handed her an open beer.
"Thanks." Taking a short swig, Pam asked, "How much more do you have to do?"
"I think I'm going to call it quits, too. If we're not ready now, more work tonight isn't going to make the difference. It's probably more important that we're relaxed and not exhausted for the meeting"
"Agreed. So we're finished, partner." Pam said holding up her beer to toast. "To a job well done. It's been a fun project and great working with you." "Here, here. We've earned our reward." Taylor replied. They clinked glasses and each took a long drink draining their bottles.
Wiping her lips and throwing out the empty bottle, Pam said, "Let's clean up this mess, make the copies, and get out of here."
They quickly removed the trash and gathered their papers from off the table. They assembled the reports and handouts that needed to be copied for the meeting. A copy room was through a door directly off the conference room.
The room contained a large color copier, several smaller black and white units and a couple work tables. They programmed the high speed machine and started the first document. The room was warm from the hardware. Pam unbuttoned her shirt, took it off and walked to the conference room to put it on her briefcase. She picked up two more beers on her way back.
After giving Taylor a brew, she ran her hands through her hair to massage her scalp and shook her head so her dark locks tickled her skin and settled on her shoulders. Taylor was already feeding the second document into the machine. Pam hopped up on a table, crossed her legs, and swung them back and forth. She took another sip of her beer and realized she had the beginnings of a pleasant buzz. The thought occurred to her that it wasn't too early to completely right off the evening.
Waiting for the job to run, Taylor leaned against a copier and drummed his fingers. Following Pam's lead, he removed his tie. Bored, he turned around and put his palm on the glass of the machine and pressed the start button.
"What are you doing, Taylor?"
"I'm making art." He replied, holding up the Xerox of his hand.
"That's not art." Pam mocked.
"Oh, you think you can do better?" Taylor challenged.
"No, no." she demurred. "You're supposed to be the creative part of this team. But, is that the best you can do?" she challenged.
Taylor reached over to put the last document into the color copier. It was very lengthy and would take a while to run the 50 copies. After another drink, he said, "Well, let's see what we can do here." He put his hand back in the machine and made another copy. Pulling it from the bin, he showed Pam the image of his hand in a peace sign.
"Barely better." she said. "But, it's still pedestrian. It doesn't 'move me' with its message." she teased.
Tilting his head and with a whimsical and superior expression, Taylor said, "Those who can't do, shouldn't criticize." Then, he waved his hand toward the machine.
Unwilling to duck a challenge for a second time, Pam got into the silly spirit, jumped from her perch and approached the machine. She took a quick hit from her beer and set it aside. Placing her hand on the glass, she thought for a second, smiled and pressed the button. When the copy emerged, she looked at it and said with pleasure, "Now this sends a message." Turning the paper around so Taylor could see, it revealed her fist with the middle digit extended in the one-finger salute.
"Oh, that's very ladylike." Taylor said with mock indignation.
