Office Affairs: Finding Chloe
Office Affairs: Finding Chloe
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Let me start with a quick introduction. I’m a guy in my early thirties, currently living and working in a suburban town in New Jersey, just outside New York City. The corporate office where I work is located in a commercial business park about 15 miles from my house. The story I’m about to share involves a workplace fling, and to be honest, the most recent encounter just happened during our lunch break today. It was so intense that I just had to write it down. I’ve been a silent lurker reading stories on this community for about five years now, so I figured it's time to contribute. Sit tight, because I want to share this from the very beginning.
My main job is in accounting. Apart from me, the entire department is made up of women. When I first joined the company, I handled inventory and accounts receivable. Around the end of last year, our general accountant went on maternity leave and ultimately decided to resign. The boss asked me to take over her responsibilities, and about a month later, they hired a new girl to take over my old tasks.
Her name was Chloe. She was a year younger than me, and during her onboarding, she mentioned she was married with a two-year-old toddler. Since she was new and taking over my exact position, management asked me to train her. For the first couple of weeks, I was essentially doing two jobs at once. Chloe was completely green, so I had to guide her hand every step of the way, from A to Z. On days when late freight shipments delayed the warehouse, I’d stay late to pull overtime with her.
Chloe’s husband’s place was about 5 miles from the office, right on my commute back home. It was incredibly convenient, so on rainy days, I’d offer her a ride in my car, and I’d even pick her up the next morning. Those long conversations during our daily commutes quickly broke the ice. We became close friends, speaking freely without any corporate filters. I distinctly remember one evening drive:
Chloe: "My head has been splitting for the past few days. I think I need to get it checked out this weekend..."
Me: "Maybe it’s just a backup from down below causing a headache up top."
Chloe: "What do you mean by that?"
Me: "You know, it’s been too long since your husband gave you a good pounding, so the tension is rising."
Chloe burst out laughing, then leaned in a bit closer.
Chloe: "To be honest, it’s rare. We barely do it once a month."
Me: "A gorgeous, fertile woman in her prime, and he’s leaving you completely dried up? How do you survive?"
Chloe: "What choice do I have? I just have to deal with it."
Fast forward to September. There was a nasty outbreak of pinkeye going around the office, and Chloe started showing up to work wearing dark sunglasses. Everyone assumed she caught the bug and kept their distance to avoid contagion. Later that day, I happened to walk past the restroom area just as she took her glasses off. It wasn’t pinkeye at all—there was a severe, purple bruise swelling around her eye. (Just to clarify the office layout: there’s a main door marked Restroom that leads into a shared sink and mirror area, which then splits into separate stalls for men and women. I wasn’t snooping in the ladies' room.)
Once I got back to my desk, I pinged her privately on Slack.
Me: "What happened to your eye? That’s definitely not pinkeye."
Chloe: "Yeah, you saw it, huh? My husband and I got into a massive fight last night. He had a few drinks in him and lost his temper. I packed up the baby and moved straight to my mom’s place."
Me: "Damn. Is everything okay at home? Look, when a guy is drinking, try not to push his buttons. They lose control completely, and you’re the one who ends up getting hurt."
Chloe: "I know. His business failed, and he’s drowning in debt. He can’t pay the principal or the interest, so he just goes out drinking with his buddies every single night. We’ve been sleeping in separate rooms for months now. Every time we look at each other, it turns into a screaming match. I’m just so exhausted, Ryan."
Me: "Hang in there. Once things cool down, try to talk it out and figure out a repayment plan. The economy is brutal on everyone right now."
Chloe: "Honestly, I don’t even care anymore. I’m checked out. Whatever happens, happens. At this point, a divorce lawyer sounds like a relief."
After that incident, I noticed a shift in Chloe. She developed a reckless, devil-may-care attitude. At company dinners, she stopped just sipping her drinks and started downing shots with the best of them. I started realizing that if I played my cards right and caught her at the perfect emotional crossroads, she would be mine. That opportunity finally arrived around Secret Santa season in December.
As you can imagine, being the only guy in an office full of women during holiday parties is exhausting. The department went out for a celebratory happy hour. Since I was driving, I stuck strictly to Coca-Cola, but the ladies were in high spirits and kept ordering cocktails. I brought a small holiday gift for each woman in the department to wish them a happy holiday. But for Chloe, I had something else in mind. When we headed down to the parking garage, I slipped her a private text telling her to come over to my car.
When she walked over, I popped the trunk to reveal a massive, gorgeous bouquet of roses and a luxury gift set. Already buzzed from the drinks and completely caught off guard by the gesture, her cheeks flushed a deep pink. Her eyes went wide with emotion—she looked absolutely breathtaking. Right then and there, my soldier saluted in my pants.
End Part 1 - Part 2
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