Confessions of a Call Center Gal - By Lisa Lim Page 0,78
the lactation room, treating it as if it were her own hotel room.
I must get Mika out of here before Angela sees him.
Standing next to him, I hesitate.
My heart softens just watching him in his deep slumber.
Poor Mika…he looks worn around the gills.
His hair is rumpled and dark circles rim his eyes.
Gently, I rouse him awake. “Mika, what are you doing here?”
He stirs and sits up. “Huh? Oh, I was up studying late for my finals.” He rubs his eyes. “I was so tired...yawn...I stumbled into the first empty room I could find.”
“C’mon Mika, we must go now,” I say with a sense of urgency.
“What’s the hurry?” A slow and lazy smile crooks his lips. He pats the leather chair, indicating that I should take a seat. “You should try this chair. It’s so plush. And it even reclines.”
He proceeds to do a little demonstration. Lifting the lever, he leans backward and forward in an exaggerated manner. “See?”
“Mika, this is a lactation room; that comfy chair you’re sitting on is for nursing moms.”
“Whhhhaa?” His voice is scratchy with sleep.
“This room is for women only. You can get in trouble for being here. It’s like a man being caught in the ladies restroom, and if Angela catches you in here, she’ll report you to HR,” I say in a hushed voice.
“But why are you in here, Maddy? Are you lactating?”
“No!” I blanch.
He rakes his hair. “So why are you here then?”
“That reminds me.” I throw open the door to the mini freezer and fish out my box of Dreyer’s popsicles. “Want one?” I offer awkwardly. We haven’t spoken in weeks, and here I am in the lactation room, offering him a popsicle.
He blinks.
“Um, it’s loaded with fruit, not fat.”
A smile tugs at his lips. “I prefer ice-cream bars myself. But sure, I’ll have a popsicle.” He holds out his hand. “Hit me with any flavor.”
“C’mon.” I steer him out. “First we need to get you out of here before you’re incriminated, then you can have a popsicle.”
Covertly, I pop my head out to make sure the coast is clear.
It is. I motion for Mika to make his exit.
Once we’re safely out of the milk room, I thrust a popsicle into his hand.
“Maddy,” he hesitates, “I hope this popsicle is a truce offering.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Look,” he says, wearing a strained expression. “I know you’ve been avoiding me. And I’ve been giving you some space...but we really do need to talk.”
“Um, okay.” I avert his eyes. “Call me tonight? I have to run these popsicles to the break room before they melt. Kars and Truong are waiting for their desserts.”
His hand reaches out as if to touch my face, but he seems to think better of it. Dropping his hand to the side, he sighs. “What’s wrong, Maddy?”
“Nuh-nothing,” I stammer.
“I’ll call you tonight, then. Is ten thirty okay?” He scrutinizes me with his dark, penetrating eyes, and I suddenly feel very shy.
I nod in affirmation. “See ya,” I say and skedaddle off.
Twenty
“I’m on the phone!” I cry when Kars barges into my room.
“Still?” she groans and slams the door.
Mika and I resume talking.
“So...” I nibble my inner lip. “You were saying?”
He clears his throat. “I’m sorry if I scared you off with the Valentine gift but—”
I interject, “Wait! What are you talking about? I loved my gift; I thought it was the most thoughtful gift ever.”
“Really?” he says, seemingly surprised. “Then why have you been avoiding me?”
“I haven’t been avoiding you.”
“Yeah you have.” There is a slight hard edge to his voice.
I hesitate, “I just felt confused...about things.”
“What things?” he probes.
I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans. I certainly don’t want to come across like some fatal-attraction-bunny-in-the-stew-pot sort of woman.
“I...err, saw you with Tatiana,” I say in an attempt to gauge his feelings for her.
“Oh, you know Tatiana? She’s a sweetheart isn’t she?”
I find myself laughing hysterically. “Sweetheart?!?”
He adds, “I know she’s a bit different, but she’s grown on me.”
“Um-hmmmm,” I mummer with a trace of sarcasm, but Mika entirely misses it.
Yeah, I bet she’s grown on him—like a colony of e-coli bacteria that grows on a raw chicken carcass. She’s toxic!
“I’ve been giving her a ride to work. She lives on campus and she doesn’t own a car,” he says, still oblivious to the hate vibes I’m emanating through the phone.
Humph. From what I’ve heard, she has a DUI. That’s why she can’t drive. Tatiana has certainly got the wool pulled over Mika’s eyes if he seems to think