‘Cali’: Part Seven

I heard my phone buzz on the desk as I squatted, riffling through some papers. There were papers all over the floor and even though I was away from my window, I could see someone walk up to it and wait, checking their watch.

“Stupid, asshole,” I muttered. Why were they standing there? They were trying to get me fired. I hadn’t called anyone to my window yet. The floor manager would see and report me and I would get in trouble for slow service. My phone stopped buzzing for a second and started up again. I gave up on looking for the document I needed, shoving papers back into the bottom drawer carelessly. I grabbed the phone and still squatting by the desk, I answered it.

“Hello?”

A pause.

“Chielozona?”

“Oh, hi, Cali.”

“Is evlyting okay? I have not heard from you since.”

“I’m fine. It’s just work is hectic right now. I’m even hiding to answer this call right now and if they catch me…” I peeped out again. The shadow of the asshole stood resolutely by my window. As if they saw me, the person by my window seemed to crane their neck. I ducked again.

Cali seemed to be waiting for me to say something. “Sorry,” I said.

“About what?” he asked. “If ya busy, ya busy. No ploblem. But…”

“But what?” I asked feeling the irritation rise and tamping it down.

“You don’t reply my texts or text me either. I can always see that one and I will know you are okay.”

“I’m sorry, Cali. I’ll try harder. It’s just been busy.” Someone was calling my name. The floor manager! “Cali, I’m so sorry. I have to go.”

“Okay, mu-”

Feet came towards the office. I disconnected the call and slipped the phone into the pocket of my trousers. I opened the drawer again.

“Chielozona, so this is where you are? There are customers waiting.”

I  looked up, from the pair of black, block-heeled courts to the midi maroon skirt and matching jacket. A scowl topped the ensemble.

“I was just looking for an account document,” I said, making a show of slamming the drawer and getting up. “Nice shoes,” I said.

The floor manager allowed her glance to linger on my own stilettos. I hated block heels and never wore them.

“Maybe you can look for it later. There is someone by your window,” she said. She looked at me, wrinkling her nose as if she could smell my bullshit and walked out.

I huffed when I got to my stool. I didn’t mean to. It just came out. Or maybe I meant to. I mean, who just stood there by an empty spot instead of moving to another window?

“Next please,” I said pointedly, avoiding the person in front of me. A low chuckle. I looked up. My breath caught in my throat.

“Just what I like with my transactions,” said the man in front of me. “A touch of bitch.”

6 thoughts on “‘Cali’: Part Seven

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