She began flirting with you

The next day, you're sitting at your desk, minding your business, or your company's to be exact when a voice greets you. "Good morning, John."

You lift your gaze from the glowing screen, expecting a standard operational query about the network architecture or a delayed report. Instead, the words stall in my throat.

Samantha is leaning slightly against the partition. The usual loose-fitting blazer and formal trousers she wears to blend into the company background are gone. Today, she is wearing a form-fitting, dark skirt that hugs her curves, paired with a soft, cream-colored silk blouse. Her hair, usually pinned back in a severe bun, falls in loose, deliberate waves around her face.

"Morning," you manage to say. "You... look different today. Nice. Different, but still very nice."

"Just felt like changing things up," she says, a slow, calculated smile playing on her lips. She tilts her head, her eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that hasn't been there before. She takes a deliberate step closer, leaning one hand on the edge of my desk. The movement causes the silk of her blouse to shift, drawing my attention down before I can stop myself.

Your eyes roam and you can feel your heart rate ticking upward. Even though she is married, right now her presence fills your small cubicle space like an intentional provocation.

"Are you actually looking at my work, or are you distracted?" she asks softly in a playful manner.

"A bit of both," you admit, clearing your throat and forcing your eyes back up to her face. "The data architecture is... complicated today."

She lets out a soft, low chuckle, before she pulls away. "Good. I like a challenge. Let me know when the script is done, okay?"

She turns and walks away, her stride deliberate, the hem of her skirt swaying with a rhythmic grace that holds your gaze until she clears the corner of the hallway.