Chapter LV
Passing Notes in Secrecy
The playful conversation starts;
Counter all your quick remarks, like
Passing notes in secrecy…
- "Enchanted" by Taylor Swift.
"All right. Let's try this again."
Michael studied the floating pieces of white dust with a great, almost peaceful focus, as they slid down against the glass, spinning and spiraling down to the bottom of the globe. In the haze stood a miniature Buddy the Elf, smiling in his familiar way. Michael smiled back at him, unable to contain his happiness.
He was finally gonna give it back to Holly today.
Because she got the job. She got the job, she got the job, she got the job and he was so excited that he could hardly sit still…
"Earth to Michael," Heather interrupted his mindless staring. He looked up.
"Right," he said, as though he'd been listening the whole time. He set the snow globe down, giving it a look of admiration before asking, "Uh, what, though?"
Heather, sitting on the corner of his desk, wore a look of exasperation — and she snapped her fingers, signaling him to actually meet her eyes. "Hey."
"Hi," he replied.
"We have to run over this again," Heather decided, and leaned in slightly. "And you have to pay attention. Do you want this to work?"
Michael nodded as he adjusted the snow globe beside his desktop. "I do…"
When he looked back up at Heather, her brow was furrowed in a threatening manner. After a pause, she muttered, "A'right," in that laidback tone that meant she was irritated; and she reached over the computer to snatch his snow globe. Michael's head shot up.
"Hey, no! I need that," Michael protested. He tried to take it from her, but she held it up too high. "I have to give it- hey, I have to give her that when she gets here. We share it."
Heather shook her head and pointed. "See? That's the stuff. You can't do that stuff. You have to appear completely platonic or this is all over. Ginny, any sign?"
Michael had almost forgotten she was in the room; he spun his chair around to see Ginny sitting by the window, watching the road down below in anticipation of Holly's car. Ginny shook her head sleepily. "Nope."
"Are you actually watching?"
"Yep."
Heather hesitated to respond, lips parted as if to argue — but nothing.
Friday was Holly's first day at the Department of Natural Resources, and Michael, as an "old coworker," was going to greet her in the lobby upon her arrival. Heather had told him he shouldn't be the first one out there, and Ginny had halfheartedly agreed as she sat on the floor with what looked like a deconstructed Blu-Ray player. And yet, he was doing it anyway.
With a large sigh, Heather snapped him back into focus. "Let's go through it one more time." Then she straightened up her shoulders and added in a high-pitched voice, "I'm Holly. I just walked in. What do you say?"
Michael instantly shook his head. "Okay, her voice doesn't sound like that. Try a bit lower."
Heather blinked. "Okay… how's this?"
"Smoother," he said still. "Softer and smoother, like you're whispering everything you say but everyone can still hear you."
"Michael."
"Not quite."
"Michael, we don't have much more time," Heather insisted lowly, and she leaned in further. "I just walked in. What do you say?"
"Okay, okay," Michael said, leaning back in his chair. "Well, if it isn't miss Holly Flax. How in the world did you get all the way up here?"
Heather looked at him for a moment, and shook her head firmly. "Wrong. What did we discuss?"
Michael's expression soured. "I know what we discussed, but this is better. It has a soul."
"'Miss Flax, it's nice to see you again,'" Heather quoted her earlier self. "Then you can add some kind of small talk. 'How was traffic?' 'It's raining pretty hard out there.' Maybe ask her how she's been doing, if you sound really detached about it — like you don't really care if she's been doing good, but hey-"
"I see a car!" Ginny announced, tapping on the glass. "I see a car — is that her?"
"Lemme see!" Michael shouted as he launched out of his chair and rushed toward the window.
"Hey! We aren't finished!"
"Where?" he asked, looking up at Ginny and back at the window. Then his eyes widened. "Oh, my god, oh, my god, there she is. She's pulling in!"
"That means we have ten minutes," Heather said, scooting across the desk. Her arms were crossed. "Nine if she catches the elevator. Can we finish this?"
Down below, Holly was stepping out of her car, and Michael examined her quickly — just to get a feel for what he would be trying to ignore for the rest of the day. She'd curled her hair, of course — something she liked to do now that her hair was long enough — and where he'd been hoping for pants, she wore a modest pencil skirt… and black heels.
"Gah- she looks so pretty," Michael muttered to himself, chewing on his lip nervously. "That… god… Couldn't she have just tried to look bad?"
Heather let out a loud sigh behind him. "Just promise me you'll keep out of her way," she implored. Michael turned to look at her, and her voice lowered. "Just for the first couple of weeks. Then you can gradually build it up."
"Fine," he said, and slumped back to his desk, dropping with a thud. "She'll probably be too busy, anyway. Learning how the sausage gets made, how you say."
"Exactly," Heather agreed. "And- also, remember to keep your eyes above shoulder-level. No familiar looks. You two are strangers."
"Can I at least show her to her desk?" Michael asked, glancing between Heather and Ginny, who was back on the floor with her project and wires. "C'mon. I'll be aloof — cold, even."
"Frigid," Heather offered. "Maybe if you imply that you're too busy to be doing this, but you feel obligated to help… then you could pull it off."
Michael nodded slowly, lips pursed. "Okay. Gotcha. Frigid."
"Good," she said, and hopped off the desk. "Any more questions before we go?"
"Can I hug her?"
"No, Mi- no," Heather stopped him right away. "Everybody already knows that you two worked together and you helped her get the job, plus she's got a ring on her finger. You have to kill this before it even becomes a rumor."
"She's probably inside by now," Ginny mumbled from the floor. She held up a big cluster of blue and yellow wires, and froze when both he and Heather set eyes on her. "I'm… probably."
"What the hell is going on with that right there?" Heather had to ask, breaking her long, studious, concerned silence. She furrowed her brow as she squinted down at it. "Are you abusing a DVD player?"
"Blu-Ray," Ginny replied mindlessly.
Meanwhile, Michael started up on his feet and rapped on the edge of his desk. "I am so, so nervous, you guys. What if I mess it up?"
"Why, though?" Heather pressed, and she bent over to look at it.
"I'm harvesting parts for… things," Ginny said, her voice trailing off.
"Things?" she asked, eyes widening. "That sounds shifty."
"Hello?" Michael called between the two. "I'm panicking. Someone talk me down…"
"Are you making a bomb, Ginny?"
Ginny instantly shook her head. "Nope. Not a bomb."
Heather didn't seem to believe this, still watching as Ginny pored over the wires in the open box. "Could you… make a bomb, though?"
She merely shrugged.
Heather stiffened, and stood up straight again. She side-eyed Michael widely, clearing her throat. He sent her a nervous look.
"Okay, then," Michael eventually said as he eyed the door. "I guess I'm gonna go out there. Heather, back me up."
"Nope."
"Ginny, you too," he said anyway; and then he stopped in his tracks, looking back at Heather. "What? Why not? I need you!"
"I can't," she said, throwing her hands up. "Zach is out there. I don't have the energy to deal with that today."
"But what if I panic?" he asked frantically.
Heather just turned her back to him, heading around his desk. "Just get creative," she suggested, and dropped down into his seat with finality.
"I'll come," Ginny volunteered as she stood up, metal box in hand. She half-smiled at Michael. "Get to see if she lives up to the hype."
"Oh, she will," Michael promised, smiling. "She's just… the best. God, I can't wait for you to meet her!"
"Stop smiling," Heather warned from the other side of the room, chair turned toward the windows. She wasn't even facing him, and somehow, she'd known.
Michael chuckled, sounding like something between freaking-out-excited and freaking-out-nervous — he promptly stretched his mouth into a neutral expression. He swallowed, and cleared his throat, and hummed anxiously to himself…
"Okay," he said, opening his eyes. "It's go-time."
So he opened the door — and in doing so, he stepped into a new character: Michael Scott, Director of Paper Distribution at the Boulder Department of Natural Resources, professional man, betrothed to a secret third-party — completely straight-laced and non-flirtatious. Michael Scott, professional man, did not wear his heart on his sleeve, and he was not interested in cute blondes with cute lipstick. If anything, Michael Scott, professional man, found H.R. to be a pain in the ass.
"The elevator's closed," Ginny informed him, and drew him out of his focus.
Michael followed her gaze down the hall, to lobby, where, indeed, the elevator was in motion. Zach was also at attention, and appeared mildly irritated — which indicated a phone conversation with Louise downstairs — which indicated that Holly was on her way up.
"Okay," he mumbled to himself as they started down the hallway. "'Miss Flax, how was- Miss Flax, how was the traffic?'" He cleared his throat. "Be frigid, be frigid, be- Zach, m'boy!"
Zach lifted his head from his screen just long enough to make eye contact before looking away. "Hello, Michael."
Michael chuckled at his charisma and stopped at his desk, leaning on the edge casually. "How's the secretary-ing treating ya today? Any hot chicks come through?"
At that, Zach did look up, indignantly. "I have a girlfriend," he replied, voice clipped — and his gaze dropped just over Michael's shoulder for a second, before returning to his desktop.
Curious, Michael looked at Ginny, who was on his left. Then he glanced back over his shoulder, and found no one in the hallway. So he gave up on that.
"H.R. replacement coming in today?" Michael asked, trying not to sound too invested in it. "Or was it tomorrow?"
Zach clicked something and began typing as he spoke. "Try in sixty seconds."
A lump formed in Michael's throat. "Oh. Then I guess I'll greet her while I'm here."
"That's interesting. Please don't crowd my desk."
"Hey, Zach," Ginny interrupted this lively rat-a-tat in a lowered voice. "I found the last of the parts I need for your birthday present. I just need the next week to put everything together."
Zach instantly raised his hand for a high-five, and Ginny smacked it. Her shy smile widened.
Looking between the two for a moment, Michael finally asked, "What present?"
"Ginny's making me a custom Roomba," Zach said matter-of-factly.
"With secret special features," Ginny added. Zach shot finger guns at her, and she returned fire.
Michael had to wonder what was going on there — and he might have asked, but there was no time, because the elevator dinged and all three of them spun around at the noise. And Michael's heart spazzed out in his chest.
"That's her," Zach mumbled, sounding disinterested.
Out from the elevator stepped a new character: Holly Flax, the new H.R. rep whom Michael knew only from a few months of working together in Pennsylvania — only kind of pretty with her shiny hair and pretty eyelashes and red, red lips, and only kind of sexy in her modest but fitting top and skirt which showed her legs all the way down to her high heels, which were only kind of a turn-on — just an average woman who didn't interest Michael Scott, professional man, betrothed to another, in the slightest.
The roleplay almost made it sexier. He had to look over at Zach's stupid face to keep himself calm and cool.
Zach sent him a glare, though, so he had to stop.
Holly shifted her box in her hands and, once she saw them, froze. "Oh! So I guess this is the right floor."
"It sure is," Michael said, fighting back a smile as he waved her over. "It's great to see you again, Miss Flax. Welcome to the floor."
"Thank you," Holly said right back as she approached the desk — and she smiled at Ginny. "Hi."
"Hi," Ginny replied shyly. Her eyes fell down to Holly's arms. "Can I… I can take your box, or something."
Holly's eyebrows shot up. "That's okay! I've carried this thing around a lot," she said, chuckling. Then she moved the box under one arm so she could extend a hand. "I'm Holly Flax. I'll be taking over H.R."
"Ah, no! A takeover!" Michael joked quietly, and watched them shake hands. Then Holly turned to Michael, reaching for a handshake. His eyes widened. "Oh! Yesh."
They shook hands, as briefly as they could, and Michael looked her in the eyes for just a moment — and in them, he could see the slight excitement — the mischief of being one of the few who knew their secret — the adorable innocence she wore as she looked at him, as if she only barely knew him. It was all extremely sexy.
Michael caught his breath before he'd lost it and said, "Well, since Zach has less than no manners, may I show you to your new office?"
"Why, soy-tainly," Holly replied instinctively. Quickly, she seemed to realize what she'd done, and she cleared her throat. "I mean, yes. Thank you."
It took all the strength in his body to keep from giggling at her, but he managed, somehow. He also had to resist the urge to reach for her hand as she walked up beside him — or to subtly touch her butt once she got a little bit ahead of him — but again, he managed.
"How was the traffic?" Michael recited, glancing back at Holly for only a second. She was smiling, but not in an obvious way. On her left, Ginny edged up behind them to third-wheel the conversation.
"It wasn't too bad. Mom's- my mom's car needs an oil change soon," Holly said with an almost-slip, and adjusted the box in her arms. "I keep trying to convince her to go get one, but apparently she has a bad relationship with the only good car place downtown."
That sounds like her, he wanted to say. But he just smiled.
"Who says there's only one good car place?" came a familiar voice — the voice of someone who had minutes ago abandoned him to hide from Zach. Michael spun around to see Heather, and stopped right in the middle of the hallway. She shrugged. "I've never had any trouble with the Auto Parts by the theater."
Holly seemed surprised at the new stranger, but smiled anyway. "I haven't either, but my mother's convinced that they stole her CDs last time she dropped her car off there, so that's a non-starter."
"Oh, I wouldn't put it past them," Heather said right away, waving a hand at the notion. "But they're fast as hell if your car is empty."
At that, Holly blinked for a second — and then laughed. "I'm Holly Flax, H.R.," she said, extending her hand and nearly dropping her box.
Heather smiled as she shook her hand. "Heather Smith, and that one over there is Ginnifer Howard," she said, pointing at Ginny. "We're gonna be your welcoming crew from here out, right?"
Ginny nodded quickly. "Mhm."
"Oh," Holly said, eyebrows raised. "Thank you. I guess I should learn about the operation here. Hopefully it's not too complicated."
"It can be," Ginny warned, mischief spelled in her expression.
"Oh, yeah," Heather agreed; and she lowered her voice. "Plus, it feels like we both just know so much about you already…"
"Okay, jackals," Michael interrupted, turning around before Heather could say anything embarrassing. Holly was already grinning at him. "Let's let her settle in before… any of that happens. Excuse us."
Heather and Ginny both smiled at him, Heather even winking — but when Holly looked back at them, their expressions disappeared.
"Well, welcome to the building," Heather said finally, and nodded at Holly before turning on her heel. Ginny just grinned shyly before following Heather around the corner.
That left Michael and Holly alone in the middle of the back hallway, and all the office doors were closed — the back hallway was full of a bunch of snores compared to the front hallway — and no one was watching. Holly met his eyes, and his lungs deflated.
The longer he looked at her, the deeper she blushed. They stood in silence for a moment.
Eventually, Holly gestured toward the only open door in the stretch. "Is this mine?" she asked softly, smiling.
Michael's eyebrows rose, and he inched toward the room. "Yes, it is. It's kinda small…"
"Bigger than a cubicle," Holly said as she stepped into the doorway, looking around.
The room was indeed small, with one desk, one desk chair, one extra chair, one trash can, and one window. And it was in the back with all the lame people. Michael had wanted them to find better for her.
But she seemed pretty ecstatic about it, grinning widely as she dropped her box on her new desk and turned back to him. "I love it," she finally said, and threw her hands up.
"You do?" he asked.
Holly nodded quickly, still beaming. "Shut the door," she added under her breath.
Michael gladly shut the door, cutting them off from the rest of the office.
Instantly, Holly stepped toward him, and he met her halfway; she was tall enough in her high heels to easily slip her arms around his neck. She kissed him, tightening her hug to bring him closer. Michael's shoulders caved, his arms looping at her waist, and his lips surrendered to hers. She kissed him again, with a happy sigh.
"Mm," Holly hummed, and broke off the kiss. Michael opened his eyes to catch a blush on her face. "You should probably get back out there."
Michael frowned. "Okay… wait."
She raised her eyebrows.
He grinned, forehead resting on hers. "One more?"
Holly's serious expression disappeared, and she stretched up to give him another kiss.
How... did I not realize I was gay? Honestly, a good 30% of this story is just describing Holly. Wake up, 16-year-old-me - you're a lesbian!
