Confessions of a Call Center Gal - By Lisa Lim Page 0,113

you want anything else?” he asks and I shake my head. He consults the chalkboard menu on the wall. “Hmm. I can’t decide what to get.”

“Here, try my latte.” I hold up my cup. “It’s pumpkin spice.”

My cup bears a trace of my Burt’s Bees Watermelon lipstick.

Holding my gaze, he tilts the cup to his lips and sips from the exact same spot of my lipstick smear.

I swallow hard. That felt sexier than a kiss.

Mika returns my Styrofoam cup and I bury my nose in it, not trusting myself to speak.

He looks out the window, his latte long forgotten. “It still looks brutal out there.”

“Um hmm,” I agree airily.

Still gazing outside, he says, “I don’t think it’s safe for us to be driving home in this weather.”

“Umm hmm,” I hum noncommittally. “I don’t suppose so.”

“So…should we get a room?”

“A room?” I part my lips and play dumb.

“They have hotels here, don’t they?”

“I believe they do...” I trail off.

His lips twist into a quirk smile. “Shall we go?”

“G-go where?” I ask like a blithering idiot.

He pins me with his gaze.

My heart is thumping away like hail on a windshield.

“Err...what about your latte? I thought you wanted to order another one?” I stall. “And don’t you still want to go to the Billy Goat Tavern? Cheezborger, cheezborger, cheezborger! No fries—cheeps! No Pepsi—Coke!” I run my mouth like a mad woman.

What is wrong with me??

Thankfully Mika doesn’t seem to notice my lapse in the sanity department. “Forget about the latte,” he says in a low voice. “And forget about the Billy Goat Tavern.”

And the rest…well let’s just say that a lady doesn’t kiss and tell. And since I’m not a lady, I’ll say that he is indeed a stag, in every sense of the word.

Cough. Size is most certainly not an overrated commodity.

The next day, we take the red eye flight to Pocatello; or Poky, as the old-timers call it.

And to an unsettling degree, Poky is starting to feel a lot more like home.

Twenty Seven

Clank, clank, clank, clunk, clunk, clink, clank, clink, clunk.

“What the hell is that sound?” I ask in alarm. “Mika, take the wheel,” I instruct and he swiftly complies.

Rolling down the window, I crane my neck back.

Oddly enough, I don’t see anything unusual. But I can still hear that loud clunking noise.

“Maddy, just drive! Keep your eyes on the road,” orders Mika in a stern voice.

Grudgingly, I peel my eyes away and try to focus on driving; but each time I step on the gas, my car just sputters, and I can still hear that damned clanking!

Mika grips the dashboard. “Pull over when you can.”

Clank, clank, clank, clunk, clunk, CKLUNKTH.

Then silence.

Warily, I peer at the rearview mirror. To my absolute horror, my muffler is right in the middle of the road. Cars and trucks are swerving in all directions to avoid it.

“My muffler!” I cry and swing my car to the curb.

Mika hops out. When the coast is clear, he makes a break for it. Shaking with laughter, he jogs back with my muffler. “Sorry babes, but this thing has way surpassed its glory days.”

That’s a nice way of putting. “Can’t I drive my car without a muffler?”

“You mean for good?” he asks in a perplexed voice and I nod.

“Um, no. It’s not legal.” He tosses the muffler onto the back seat. “Don’t worry, I’ll order you a new one.”

“I can do it myself,” I say a little too quickly. After all, I am used to taking care of myself; been doing it for years.

Mika ruffles my hair. “I know you can, but let me take care of it, okay?”

“Okay.” I hit the gas and drive home in my muffler-less Subaru, praying I don’t get ticketed.

Going from being friends with Mika to dating Mika has been an easy transition. We still do all of the same things, the only difference is, we spend more time together and we’re more affectionate with each other. Every day, Mika gives me back rubs, shoulder rubs and leg rubs, and I love receiving them. After sitting in front of a computer for eight hours, my shoulders and neck are stiff, tense and knotted up.

“My back hurts,” I’ll simper and shoot Mika an injured princess look. That’s all it takes! I’ll be treated to a full on massage with long kneads and gentle strokes.

Now this may sound a little pre-emptive, but we have since moved in together, and I sometimes marvel at how much has changed in such a short amount of time.

Kars wasn’t too

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