Who is Jamie? The Beginning

Walking down the aisle of my office, I noticed a stunning woman with long dark hair. She has a slight grin, but not quite full smile, her eyes are dark and magic, surrounded by a sea of perfect skin, she walks with graceful confidence. Focused, she stares straight past me to her destination. She has a pronounced bounce to her gait and enough height I can see the top of her head over the cubicle walls. Who is this woman? This is Jamie, about eight years ago.

That is how I interacted with Jamie for the first three years I noticed her in the building. I always stared at her with curiosity, intrigue, wondering who she was, what was going on in her life, what was her job, I never had meetings or communication with her, she was a slight mystery to me.

I think I mentioned this but I will mention it a second time, Jamie is a beautiful woman. Not the cute type of beautiful, but the striking type. Her height combined with dark accents, the most exquisitely shaped eyes, pronounced cheekbones narrowing down into plush and perfectly shaped lips. In my technical work environment, she was not in the least bit typical. She had a Mediterranean look, maybe she was a Greek Goddess or the offspring of one? She had a narrow waist that curved into the most perfect hips, women pay for what Jamie had built in.

While we are on the topic of Jamie’s backside, I’m going to keep going. She loved to wear these jeans that framed all the curves of her booty to perfection, it was a thing to behold. Whenever I would get stuck walking behind her in the hall, I would be in a seriously happy place. Each time she took a step, my heart would skip a beat. I wanted to run my hands all over her ass, pinching, pulling, and tugging away at everything there. Dancing behind her would be a delight, to put my hands on her hips and sway with her. Mmmm, yes, Jamie is a top notch babe!

I would see Jamie daily in passing, on occasion I would try to catch her eyes or smile at her, sometimes she would raise the corner of her lip, most of the time she would stay focused on her mission, whatever that was. I would head back to my cubicle, sit down and ponder this woman. My marriage was a mess, so I would often think about my other options. I distinctly remember one day sitting at my computer after passing Jamie in the hall, bored by my inbox, contemplating the nature of a relationship with Jamie.

Since I was young and first encountered my sexuality, I have always had a thing for brunettes. Reflecting on it, the majority of my youthful pursuits were always brunettes, I suppose I was programmed from a young age, perhaps my genetics, to seek out brunette women. Not only was Jamie a brunette, but she also had the darkest and most flowy head of hair, not a single hair out of place. Her eyebrows were perfectly shaped. Her eye makeup would lure me in, whenever she closed her eyes, I saw works of art, I don’t know how her eyes looked so perfect, but they did.

I have already said this, but three years I spent admiring her, she didn’t even know who I was, or that I even existed but I certainly noticed her. My memory of the first time we talked is foggy, but I recollect we were in the break room at the same time one day, and I said something trivial about lunch or the refrigerators we all stored our lunches in, she responded, not incredibly interested but not in a disinterested way. Whatever her response, I had finally heard her voice and she directed that moment at me. It was a small success but there wasn’t a definition of success or failure because she was an office mate, she wasn’t going to be an influence in my life and neither was I in hers.

Somehow and someway, after three years, casual conversation with Jamie was a thing. I have no clue how we got there or what social gates we moved through but I was finally able to be casual with her. I existed, I had a name, I was probably another person to ask a work question to or maybe a friend of a friend. Jamie and I shared several common friends in the office, the network of friends was probably the top trust builder. With shared friends, we had shared narratives of each other we could relate to.

Lunches, lots of lunches, over the next few years, a group of us would always meet in a conference room for lunch. I would usually only show up once or twice a week for the conference room lunches because of other social engagements, but it was during these lunches I started to understand more about who Jamie was and what made her tick. I learned that she was fun, enjoyed humorous stories, had an edgy wit, and was straightforward. I enjoyed watching her challenge other people and noticed she was a thinker. She wasn’t overly quick to comment because she thought about her responses, she wanted to fully understand another before speaking, she appreciated the unappreciated. What I admired the most was the complexity to her, nothing was black and white, she was adept at seeing and interpreting the gray.

Jamie would on occasion smoke a cigarette, and whenever I saw her outside smoking, I would stop by and say hi, ask her how her day was going, and recommend she quit (an excuse to talk to her, I didn’t care if she smoked or not). I also had an ulterior motive, I loved watching her smoke, the way she would hold the cigarette between her feminine fingers, the way she wrapped her perfect lips around the filter, and how she would blow the smoke out and down. It was like watching an old-time actress seductively smoke on the silver screen. I imagined what she could do with lips like that, serious pleasure could come from a woman that had that much control of her lips. Jamie had everything going on, if only I was living in a different life at that moment, she had all the boxes checked.

I would see her on occasion in deep discussions with common friends. I was never jealous, but always curious, could Jamie be interested in me on another level. My idea of what I wanted our friendship to be was always confusing to me, not because I didn’t know what I wanted, but because I saw Jamie as someone I wanted more with. More, in a intimate sense. I wanted to meet Jamie in a fancy hotel, and get lost between the sheets with her for days. Whatever my friendship was with her, I was happy with the relationship we had.

I never would speak of my private crush on Jamie, I felt it would be inappropriate in the office environment and possibly awkward. Plus, where would it go if I told her, Jamie was married and so was I. I wasn’t about to get in the business of invading other people’s marriages, but I seriously considered asking her once. I was content to keep my little fantasies about Jamie to myself but was this how life went? I think it is something most men do at one time or another. It would give me a nice respite from my daily grind.

One day, my foundation about who Jamie was changed. We were passing in the hall, there were some brief words about the day and how are you, Jamie blankly volunteered that she was getting divorced. That was it, I offered some worthless condolences, made a funny face, and then we both continued on our way. I remember asking myself why she volunteered that information, was she looking for emotional support, some kind of help, perhaps it was just part of her need to stop living in quiet about her life. When Jamie shared her news with me, my brain nearly exploded with a million different thoughts and feelings.

My marriage was a wreck, I was still ignoring my reality, living in pain and loneliness while Jamie was facing everything I was dreading and making her life hers. I am generally not a jealous person but I was flooded with jealous emotion after Jamie shared this information with me. Secondly, the woman I had a quiet crush on may become available? What, how could this be happening. I was still feeling trapped on the island of personal loneliness in my marriage and trying to figure out how to build my life raft off. I eventually had to bury everything I felt because I couldn’t deal with my hurt. The hurt from my reality and the fear of missed opportunity. I said nothing, I did nothing, I put my head down, and continued living my drudgery. On the rare occasion my wife was interested in sex, I would close my eyes and imagine I was between Jamie’s legs, with her beautiful smile and calming eyes staring into mine. Thank god I had that mental tool of escapism, it was one of the last refuges of calm I could get.

Time passes, I see Jamie from the outside live through at least one new relationship with a tragic ending. The Covid 19 lockdown begins, our office closes for telework. I go to my home office to forget about my office life, perhaps this is my new freedom, or maybe a new cage, I don’t know.

Covid lockdown was soon followed by a potentially life-threatening sports injury that landed me in the hospital and gave me all kind of time to think about life, how I needed to end my marriage asap, and that I need to be focusing on myself and my happiness or it would never show up.

Sitting in my home office one day while having my brains turn to mush answering emails, my cell phone rings, I have no idea who it is, I don’t have this number. Still, it’s a local number and maybe I should answer because who knows who I will find on the other end. I’m usually pretty firm about not answering calls I don’t recognize. I remember saying “Hi, Andrew here”. To my surprise, it was Jamie on the other end of the line!

OMG, I had not heard from Jamie for probably a year, she had a work question but that was quickly answered. We continued talking about how we needed to get together for lunch sometime, how we missed the random office interactions, we even started to discuss her purchase of a new house with nosy neighbors and, and, and. The whole conversation was maybe 3 minutes, but it made my day.

More work calls came and went. My feelings and fantasies returned but I had to let them go, there was nothing I could do about them. I had to stop thinking about Jamie and focus on ending my marriage, that would be my immediate future. I eventually worked my way into a separation and found myself on the other side of my broken relationship. Perhaps now was the time to engage.

I’ll never forget the moment I was sitting at my work computer. There was Jamie’s name on my screen, she had that little green dot by her name that meant she was available to talk. I clicked on it and wrote her a message. It was a simple, “Hey, what’s up” message. I remember sitting there staring at the send button, thinking over what I was doing. What was my plan, where was this going, at this point in my life I had taken on a “fuck everything” approach. Who the fuck cares where this was going, I had some freedom, I have been lusty for Jamie for years, send it!

I clicked the send button, then a moment later, I could see she was responding, hell yeah! She chimed back and asked how I was doing. She had heard through friends that had I had a serious injury a few months back and wanted to know how I was feeling. I responded that I was doing great and all was well. OMG, she was talking to me, and was curious about me! So, she asked me a few other playful things. It was time for me to get to the point, I dropped the message on her, my wife and I were getting divorced and currently separated, I wanted to know if she had any helpful advice having gone through a similar breakup? What happened next, I’m not even sure how it happened, I had a lunch planned with her for next week! What would I talk to her about at lunch, I hoped I came across the right way, I hope I came across as fun, nothing boring or needy. What would I wear, what would the weather be like, had Jamie’s look changed since I saw her last. So many questions, some anxiety, but I was happy and confident knowing it would be a great lunch.

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