"It can never happen again," she had said. The words rang in his head like a bell continuously as Tim Wallace went to work every day. In a lot of ways his job at the Seattle marketing agency, Branson Tanner, hadn't changed much over the past several weeks. He continued to fulfill his role as an Art Director, he continued to prank fellow co-workers, and he regularly met and joked with his closest friends in the office, Lyra Price and Kelly Forbes.
In fact, it was both comforting and troubling that so little had changed. It was Kelly who had said, "It can never happen again." She was referring to their sexual encounter, the result of a long-term attraction between them.
Kelly, a pretty blonde with glasses and hazel eyes, had married a man named Mark, whom she discovered cheated on her after only a couple of weeks. Afterwards, Tim and Kelly met at their regular bar, Marty's, where Tim finally admitted to having feelings for her. It led to a long discussion, which led to a walk back to her car in the rain, which led to a passion-fueled evening in the back seat.
To Tim, it felt like it was a long time ago, but it also felt like there should have been a much more uncomfortable aftermath. Their encounter was deep and meaningful, but afterward, Kelly and Tim were able to resume their friendship as though it had never happened at all. In his private moments, he found it strange and wondered at the sincerity of it all. Was Kelly really unaffected, or was she just really good at pretending?
He certainly wasn't going to make things harder by asking that question. He valued their fun and lively friendship, and didn't want to make things difficult for Kelly. In fact, it probably wasn't going to be a good idea for anyone to know what had happened. It was between him and Kelly and should stay that way.
Unfortunately, Tim didn't count on Lyra Price figuring it out on her own. Lyra, who had known Kelly longer than Tim had, was pretty intuitive about these things. It was Friday and Tim, Kelly and Lyra were meeting up at Marty's for a drink or two after work, like they often did. Lyra arrived before Kelly, which gave her a chance to find out for sure what had happened between Tim and the blonde Copywriter.
Lyra, a thick, black Project Manager, sat across from Tim. "So," she said, "was it good?"
"What, my drink?" Tim replied.
"Come on, Tim. You know what I mean," Lyra pressed.
Tim feigned ignorance. "Not sure what you're talking about."
"I'm talking about you and Kelly," she got right to the point. "You've both done your best to hide it, but something happened."
Tim didn't know how to escape the conversation. He wasn't in the habit of keeping things from Lyra. "Did she say something?" he asked.
"She didn't need to," she answered.
"It was just the one time several weeks ago," Tim admitted. "It was probably a bad decision and we've agreed it isn't going to happen again."
"But you wish it would, don't you?" Lyra was unrelenting. Tim guessed she was being protective of Kelly.
"Well yeah, but it can't. She's married."
"Damn straight," Lyra agreed, "So you have to find a way to get it off your mind. Find someone else. Get laid."
Tim laughed. "Yeah, just like that," he smiled.
"Actually, yeah," Lyra said. "You have her skin on the brain, Tim. It's what you'll think of until you replace it. Find some strange, Get your balls drained, playboy. Hopefully, if you can distract yourself from Kelly for a while, you'll be less inclined to make another bad decision with Kelly."
Tim laughed loudly.
"It's not that funny," Lyra raised her eyebrow.
"Actually, it is," Tim said. "Kelly dared me to fuck Jeannie Novaczek."
"She dared you?" Lyra laughed. "Actually, that does sound like Kelly."
"She quintuple dared me."
"Okay, I believe you. Why Jeannie? That's an odd choice."
"That's what I thought too," Tim laughed.
Jeannie Novaczek was one of the other artists, tattooed with a pierced eyebrow, her hair dyed the same blue as her eyes, and shaved on the sides, the top teased up with who-knows-what to make a sort of wide Mohawk. She was a wild child, not exactly what most would consider a compatible match with the more practical-looking Tim.
Ever since Kelly presented the dare, Tim admitted that he saw Jeannie a little differently. The thought Kelly had put in his head made him take longer looks at the punky artist. There was nothing elegant about her. She wasn't slender and statuesque. She had a party-girl body, with some beer weight that never stopped her from covering her D-sized tits under the tight t-shirt of whatever band she saw last. There was usually some type of bedazzled, low hip-hugging jeans included in her ensemble. Tim was beginning to see her sexual appeal.
Tim and Lyra were still laughing when Kelly arrived. She was wearing a tight brown dress that accented her figure and made it difficult for him to avoid thinking about what she had looked like naked.
"What are you two laughing about?" Kelly asked.
Lyra placed her hand to her chest. "I was talking about how we're going to get Tim laid."
"Totally," Kelly agreed as she sat down next to Lyra. "I've been saying the same thing."
Kelly was a good actress.
"Didn't I give you a dare a few weeks back," Kelly continued, something about a certain someone in our office?"
"A quintuple dare," Tim clarified. "It isn't as though I'm a tattooed bass player," Tim complained. "As you can see, I'm not exactly her type."
"Tim, you're a hot guy," said Lyra. "Give yourself some credit."
"Thanks," Tim replied. "Now let's get another round. I'm sure we have better things to discuss than my sex life."
Tim clearly didn't want to talk about it while Kelly was there. Lyra took the hint. The rest of the evening was spent much the way it usually was, griping about bosses, telling jokes, swapping stories, planning their next round of pranks, and listening to Lyra complain about her boyfriend, Derek.
It was Thursday, a couple weeks later and Tim was finishing up some work at the office. It was 8:30. Most of the lights had already gone off automatically. Tim presumed he was alone.
"Busy week?" an English-accented female voice sounded behind him.
It was Marion Tanner, the co-founder of the agency. She was a striking woman in her mid fifties, with blue eyes and brown hair with streaks of gray. She was usually on the road, drumming up new business, so Tim wasn't used to seeing her around. Tim swung his chair to face her.
"Yeah, just finishing up some work," he said. "What are you doing here so late?"
"Contracts," she answered. "Looks like it's just us three here now."
"Three? Who else is working late?" asked Tim.
"I have Jeannie Novaczek finishing up a presentation for me," said Marion. "I'm heading home. Do you want me to order some food for you two?"
"No, that's okay," said Tim. "I'm getting out of here soon too."
"Sounds good," she said. "By the way, I'm throwing a little party at my house for the art people next Friday, if you're interested. David, Phillip, Sergei, and Samantha have already said they're coming. It would be great if you joined us."
"Sure," said Tim. "Thanks for the invitation."
"No problem," Marion smiled. "Okay. I have to run. You'll tell Jeannie about it, won't you?"
"Sure thing," he said.
