Pelle Marco

Pelle Marco

Copyright © 2022 OmegaPet-58

Part I: Chapters 1 - 8

Chapter 1: Pestilence Walks the Land

I had my brain deeply buried in some financial analysis when a rapping behind my head startled me. I flinched sharply, my office chair lurching against my cubicle's desk. When I'm deep in my research I become oblivious to the environment around me. Apparently, a woman had come up behind me, and when I was completely unresponsive, not perceiving her presence, the rapping became necessary.

She said, "Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to startle you. I thought it would be more alarming if you heard a voice just speaking out of thin air. It's just, well, it's so empty up here now. Since everybody left here weeks ago, I'm not comfortable with the situation, the lack of people in what used to be such a busy office. It's actually feeling a little spooky for me. All these weeks we have been working at opposite ends of this huge room, and just today I noticed you. I've been coming up here on the east side's elevators every day thinking I was alone."

I was being interrupted by a masked woman I'd never met but wearing one of our corporate badges: "Sallie‌‌ Macron, Process Analyst" over a very ordinary navy suit. My badge read "L. Andrew Franklin, Private Investment Research Adviser" and both badges displayed the crimson logo of our employer, Pelle Marco Bank.

I lifted my head above the cubicle and glanced around the room. I thought I was the only soul on the 22nd floor of the PMB tower in downtown San Francisco. The office had been vacant for two months now, when the usual 40+ coworkers on our floor had fled due to COVID. Sallie, I gathered, had also been coming in, so there were two of us working on site.

Pulling on my own mask: "I was just surprised, no harm. Why didn't you stay home with the rest of the staff?"

I could tell she was nervous, judging from her voice and posture. From the empty surroundings? From thinking she was disturbing me? "Oh, wait, I don't need to know, never mind," I said, not wanting to disturb her more.

Internally, I was hopeful; having human company in this emptiness would be great. The ranks of vacated cubicles were disconcerting. The cubicles were three-sided with five-foot tall walls. A desk fastened across the three walls, holding them upright, with a smaller bookshelf fastened similarly above. The inhabitants sat facing the desk and shelf, the side walls on their left and right and their backs to the open un-walled side of the cube. There was nothing in my eyeline except gray fabric-covered walls, my computer display, the usual desk detritus, and a photo of my daughter.

By design, then, cubicle life was isolating. While working my back was to a narrow aisle, with matching cubicles in the same orientation to my left and my right.

I did my best to give her my most winning and reassuring smile. "I'm happy you came by, I was just too deep in my spreadsheet to notice you were standing there behind me." I gestured to the vacant cubicle across the aisle from mine. "Ms. Macron, please come work here. We could both use the companionship, I am sure."

"Only if you call me Sallie. Thank you, I'll be back with my things."

I wasn't above wheeling out to watch her walk away from me. All the way down the aisle. Sallie was my age, I think, late thirties. Curvy, for sure. Very nice. Her conservative suit wasn't very revealing. But, at this point in my isolated life, any hint of femaleness caught my full attention. And she was way past just a hint, at least viewed from behind. A man can dream, can't he?

I couldn't suppress my smile. After a month of working in this desolation, I prized the prospect of conversation during the workday. And Sallie was really appealing, physically. I had a weakness for bigger women. I allowed myself a little scrap of hope that she wasn't partnered or married.

I tidied the papers on my desk while waiting. When we met just now, I realized that we had similar anxieties about being isolated for so many hours each day in this place. Her expressiveness had brought these feelings forward for me. I had been clamping down on my emotions for so long, buried in dry financial analysis.

Suddenly, I met a great-looking woman who was calling all sorts of feelings from me, all at once. My world had abruptly shifted.

The last time I had this kind of reaction, the tower had stopped swaying after a small nearby earthquake. It wasn't damaging or particularly frightening, but it did cause that unsteady feeling that your bearings had shifted.

Once Sallie was set up, we would be just a few feet apart while working, faced in opposite directions. To chat, we could easily spin around in our rolling office chairs.

When Sallie returned toting a cardboard box, I stood up.

"Oh, please, let me help," I said. "I could have gone with you to carry your things."

"It's fine. I've got it," she replied. Except, can you go under this desk and connect my computer? The seams of my old suit would rip if I tried to crawl around down there."

I had a mental image of her skirt, jacket, and/or blouse bursting open. Oh, yeah!

"Certainly. When you're ready."

After putting her things down on the desk and setting down her computer in place of the previous one, she backed away. Next, she took off her suit jacket and hung it next to mine on the coat tree. Oh, wow, that thin white blouse was tightly stretched over some big full boobs. Bigger than D-cups, maybe. Some belly, too, but that was fine with me. (After all, there were a couple of inches on my waist that weren't there in my twenties.)

Under her new desk, I found and connected her PC to the cubicle's display, power, and keyboard. Our corporate computers were identical little portable blocks, designed to be swapped around by transient workers among the standardized identical cubicles as necessary. While kneeling down on the carpet, I kept my eyes down; I didn't want to be caught being creepy by obviously staring at my new cubicle partner. Though I couldn't help stealing a couple of glances.

And I saw more of how hot she was while looking up from below the desk. I suppose many would view her as average, and not meeting the rigid standards for weight and height shown in advertising and media. But for me, she was compelling. I understood the words, "sorely tempted." My hand just wanted to stroke her thighs or to grab her generous ass cheeks, greedily.

But I had to stay focused, so my pants didn't announce my feelings. But tonight, I imagined, I would be blowing gobs of come while remembering Sallie's big round ass almost in reach of my face.

I got myself back upright and sat back in my rolling chair, giving her room.

"Thank you so much, Andrew. I've disrupted your morning and I need to finish the project on my PC before noon. You and I should get back to work for a while. Then at lunchtime we can get to talking."

Chapter 2: My New Friend

I was pleased to notice we both did the reasonable thing and brought our lunches from home. We opened our brown paper bags and ate sandwiches while we talked. Our chairs were rotated so we faced each other, leaving our desks and display screens behind.

"Sallie, please excuse me for being nosy. So many of our peers have chosen to stay home, leaving us here. I'm curious: you decided to keep coming in, like me. Can you say why?"

"Two reasons, Andrew. First, I admit to having bad work habits. If I'm home, there are too many distractions. I just can't force myself to open my laptop and consistently work a full day. Second, I feel healthier by getting out every day. I walk 15 hilly blocks to catch the Muni Metro."

"Those seem like good reasons," I assured her. "My reason for being here is truly stupid: I don't have acceptable access to the internet at home."

"I see the picture on your desk," she said. "Your daughter?"

"Yeah, Kara, she's 18 now. Honor student." I couldn't hide my pride and affection. I adored my daughter without limits.

"She's beautiful! How is she coping with everything going on? Her school is closed, right?"

"Not great. No school, and our bad internet isolates her even more," I replied. "She's mostly alone at home."

"That must be so hard for her, with so little to do, and all the isolation this plague has given us," Sallie said. "Sometimes I want to scream in frustration. At least we have work to keep us busy. I've never met Kara, and already I want to give her a hug."

My goodness! What a sweet thing for Sallie to say. Just that brief moment of compassion melted me. Virus be damned, I wanted to hug Sallie as Kara's proxy.

"I notice there's no other picture and no ring on your finger," Sallie said. "So, I going to assume --"

"Yes. Um, let's just say that Paula had no appetite for monogamy, marriage, or motherhood. Kara doesn't remember her."

She gave me a reassuring smile to let me know she understood.

"Sallie, I notice your finger is ring-less, too. Since I'm already being nosy --."

"Well, no, I've never been married. Andrew, it's OK to be curious. I don't mind... Anyway, I live with my roommate, Charlie. Um, she's a female Charlie. We share a two-bedroom apartment out in the Sunset District.

"Let's see, Andrew, what else can I tell you?" She took a pause, as if to gather her thoughts. "I'm from Nevada, I was an only child. I had a pretty normal childhood, I think. My parents have now passed.

"I have a bachelor's degree in information technology from the University of Nevada, Reno. Before COVID, I was volunteering at the senior center, helping with things like Medicare, Social Security, taxes, and so on. I'm seven years here at Pelle Marco."

I'm feeling attraction beyond her looks. I commented, "Those seniors are missing you already, I'm sure. One more example of how the pandemic diminishes our lives."

Sallie said, "Yes, and the seniors were on the margins before this. Now their access is limited, and I'm even hearing that the infection is far more dangerous to elders.

"From what I can snoop from your display screen, Andrew, you are doing a lot of financial analysis. Let me guess, finance major?"

"Oh, yeah, I have a bachelor's in economics from Sonoma State. The campus is well known for its frisbee golf program," I joked. "I've been here at Pelle Marco for eleven years now. College was long and difficult for me because I was raising little Kara on my own back then. Six and a half years to my baccalaureate degree."

She didn't pick up the conversation for several moments after that. To fill the awkward silence, I carried on, "Just stop me at any time, Sallie, but I'm enjoying my nosiness too much to stop. Will your boyfriend or your roommate mind that you're now working in arms reach of a man of similar age in this big empty office?"

She gave a nervous chuckle. "Ooh, you are nosy. The answer is, the roommate won't mind, and there's no boyfriend to care, sadly."

"Hard to believe, Sallie."

"Kind of you to say, but, your turn. Girlfriend?"

"Nope. Single fatherhood has always diminished my opportunities."

"I don't know, Andrew. She's going to move out and then you are going to be getting phone numbers."

"Um, what you said, 'Kind of you to say.'" Was she hinting at me? I couldn't tell. But it was a sign that she considered me attractive, at least in a general sense. Another positive step.

I realized I was becoming very interested in Sallie. So quickly! But I mistrusted myself. Perhaps she was simply being nice and had no particular interest in me personally.

It had been so very long since I even thought about dating. Anxiously, I worried I was asking too soon about her relationships. I decided to retreat to a more conventional, safer topic.

"I guess the pandemic is going to disrupt our lives so much. Social things like restaurants and movies are completely disrupted. Will Kara be able to start college classes? And I still have my student loans to stress over."

"I remember lots of students in Reno needing those student loans. Thankfully, I don't have them."

"Let me guess, rich parents?" I asked.

"Unfortunately, no. I did it the usual way, working. Good thing there are several brothels nearby, they are legal in Nevada."

Brothels? Sallie? I would never imagine this cautious woman to --

She burst out laughing. "I'm kidding! I'm kidding! Not true! God, the expression on your face!"

Between peals of laughter, she put her hand on my shoulder for reassurance. Oh, I liked that. After my heart had restarted.

It took a while before I could regain my composure. She got me good.

"You are so gullible, Andrew," she said with another chuckle. Gesturing towards her body, "You really think horny men would pay money for this?"

"I would," I blurted out. Not a doubt.

She gasped, and flushed tomato red. Her smile vanished. Her hand flew off, as if I had burned it. She looked down and away from me, shocked, and... perhaps humiliated? Uh-oh.

Quietly and gravely, "OK, Andrew, you got me back. I deserved that. But, don't tease me, I can't take it."

To keep from making things worse, I said quickly, "I don't mean --"

"No, I won't take it," she angrily cut me off, her eyes flashed, her frown deepening.

Sallie seethed, with short huffing breaths. My hopes for me and her were becoming ashes.

Hoping to salvage things, I held up my hands, palms outward. "Wait! No! I am not teasing you!"

"Of course you are," she spat, furious. "I'm old, and fat. Don't you fucking lie to me, Andrew."

My very name was a curse, now, for Sallie. I was right to mistrust myself! Just because she was pretty with big tits, I showed her what a desperate hound I was, in about five minutes flat.

We just met!

Suddenly, the most important thing was to make things right with her. I took a quick breath, then looked straight into her eyes and tried to show my feelings.

"Please, we just met." I tried to pitch my voice lower, slower, and calmer--and not sound so damned desperate. I was flying blind, fumbling.

"That's no excuse!" she retorted.

"You're right! I'm sorry, I really shouldn't have said that. I wasn't thinking."

Sallie closed her eyes and sighed, loudly.

"Andrew, even before the pandemic I wasn't very good with guys. I'm not self-confident. And if I'm being teased, or patronized, I go right to 11 on the angry dial."

My biplane was shot full of holes, slewing over to fall from the sky, trailing smoke.

She sighed again. "I'm going to pack up and go back to my old cubicle."

A wing just tore off and fluttered away. I was watching the ground rush up to obliterate me.

"Oh, no! Sallie, please, please stay!" I said quickly. "I'm so sorry, I just wanted to be your friend here at work, not make you nervous or uncomfortable in any way."

She's not convinced. What now? Desperate, I needed a parachute.

"I would really like to start over." I pleaded. "I'm rebooting now. Bong!"

(I imitated a PC's startup chime with a small smile, hoping to lower the tension.)

"Hello, Sallie, it's wonderful to meet you today. I would like to be nearby as we work. This empty gray on gray office environment doesn't feel very happy or healthy."

She sighed once more and shook her head, skeptical. But her expression was softening. Whatever I was saying seemed to be helping, so I continued. "How about for now we just finish our lunches and get back to work. I won't disrupt your day further."

I stood up and volunteered, "Here, I'll get rid of your trash." Then I stepped away from Sallie before I could cause any more awkwardness.

For the remainder of the workday, we focused on our job tasks, interacting appropriately as necessary. She needed a little configuration fix for printer access which I handled, for which I received a polite smile and thanks. The temperature between us was improving, I felt.

Her mood lifted more as the day went on. By quitting time, she was cordial enough to allow us to trade our business cards with emails and telephone numbers. Optimistically, I felt we would be returning to work together on good terms, starting tomorrow, in our adjoining cubicles.

I walked her down to the Montgomery Street station for her train. As I left Sallie, she surprised me with a warm smile on her face and she put her hand on my shoulder again in that curious gesture. After not interacting with humans for a while, my social skills were rusty, but I thought this was friendly and welcoming, if not particularly romantic or intimate like a hug or kiss.

Chapter 3: Being Found Out

At home I walked into our kitchen smelling of dinner. Kara had cooked, for which I was grateful as always. In ordinary times, she would recount her day at high school as we tucked in. In the eleventh grade and popular, she always had something going on to talk about. In these times of COVID, her life was more restricted to the small circle of very local friends she could visit with, albeit with masks on. At this time, her high school was still completely suspended, not having built any online infrastructure.

These days her dinnertime storytelling was much more limited.

It was some five minutes after we began to eat that I realized the only audible sounds were from cutlery and my chewing. I looked into my daughter's worried face. "What's wrong, Dad?" she asked me.

"Nothing."

"Dad, two minutes ago I told you that Vladimir Putin was moving in next door. You said, and I quote, 'That's nice.' Now what the hell is bothering you?"

"Kara, I met a nice woman today, and then I upset her," I told her.

A look of concern appeared on her face. "What happened?" she asked.

"So you know how, because of COVID, I'm working on this seemingly empty floor." I waited for her to nod before I continued. "Well today, a woman came by my desk... One of my colleagues, whom I've never met apparently. She explained, working alone in the other end of that empty space was uncomfortable. She wanted to be near another person once she noticed I was there. It's been weird for me, too, as you know."

She nodded again and I continued on, "I helped set her up in the vacant cubicle opposite of mine. Her name is Sallie Macron. I was pleased, hoping she would be good company. More or less my age, good looking. She saw your picture on my desk and I was telling her about the world's best daughter."

"World's best daughter, huh?" Kara grinned. I ignored her and continued.

"Suddenly, and I don't really understand why or how, it all blew up. I said something about how pretty she was. Suddenly she was tearful, then angry, like I had insulted and then slapped her. Her reactions shocked me, I didn't know what to say or do. I thought she would leave and never come back."

Recalling Sallie's reactions, I was having trouble staying calm and keeping my voice level. "I was upset, retracting and apologizing as fast and as hard as I could."

"Let me understand this, Father." Already, there was a tone in Kara's voice. The "what were you thinking" tone women use when they see their men about to blunder badly.

"You told her she was pretty, then you were backpedaling? So, telling her she wasn't pretty? Then, you said you were sorry that you told her she was pretty?" Kara's voice was definitely sharp, now. I winced and nodded.

"You fucked up, Dad."

Leave it to my teenage daughter to stick the knife and twist it. Hard. Kara had me convinced, in just a few words: after just meeting Sallie, I drove her away. I failed with the most attractive woman I had met in months. Years!