Savoring Pleasure

CHAPTER TWO

COLD WIND WELCOMED ME AS I SET OUT THE BUILDING. It gives me chills down my spine and I subconsciously hugged myself due to coldness. As a Marketing Management leader, I usually leave the office by half past five.

I stayed at the threshold together with the other staffs in the different departments, waiting for the rain to subside.

I haven’t realized that it’s raining outside since the department room is enclosed on all sides with brick walls and ceiling and I got busy the whole day.

I ate my lunch at three o’clock in the afternoon, working on with the Market Plan and assessing the new hired employees under my department.

Meanwhile, I feel agitated, hence reached out Thero through phone, by chance he could manage to answer it. I’ve attempted to call him for countless times, however I haven’t had the chance to talk to him. Out of coverage. He’s possibly busy right now.

“With all the days that rain’s potentially poured out, why now when I forgot to bring an umbrella ?” I thought.

I took a deep breath before attempting to call Thero again.

I slapped my own forehead due to frustration. As I needed Thero the most is when he’s out of the sight and hard to reach out.

It’s been a week the last time we had each other’s arms. There are only few people who are concerned with our relationship; just my friends and workmates. Generally, our relationship is civil. I can’t even beg him to introduce me to his family. Furthermore, I never have the urge to ask him about his personal life because if he really wants to tell me anything, he could initiate and approach me.

In contrary, I can never present him to my parents because they passed away five years ago. Our family truck that they were riding had lost its brake, causing it to fall off the ravine in the steep sides in Benguet. Our family’s business was rice mill which my parents were also responsible for exporting sacks of rice. Stem from that, I got left nothing and no one. If only I had a sibling, I could not be alone.

After a few minutes of getting my sanity back, my phone suddenly rang, making me feel surprised. I immediately took a glance of it and my lips curved into a smile only to discover that Thero is calling me. I pressed the green button before it will have ended.

“Hello, Thero!” I gushed out and held across over my shoulder. “Could you—”

He spoke crossly, raging, “Mella, what the f**k! I am at casino. I am underdog in the Vegas Three Card Rummy. Stop calling. Damn, s**t!” I heard him heave an upset sigh before ending the call.

My heart seemed to be wrenched by hearing the tone of his voice. He could say it calmly or such in a nice way.

For the meantime, I can’t move my feet that pose to be glued on the tiled floor. I feel my eyes getting watered and thus tilted my head upward to resist the tears from pouring out. My shoulders slump in humiliation and I bit my bottom lip when felt quivering.

I composed myself realizing it was my fault after all. If only I didn’t call him, he wouldn’t get mad at me. I know he tends to go at casinos every night but still insisted to reach out of him. How stupid I was to do that s**t.

I can’t get over it because it was all my fault. I am demanding for Thero. I am acting like we already got married and asking his time.

Whatever he says and sounds his tone like, Thero loves me. No matter how much he damned me for what I am doing, I believe he’s looking forward to being with me in the future.

I LEANED MY BACK AND LOOKED UP WHILE PLAYING MY PEN ON THE RIGHT HAND. Then, I glanced at the screen of my phone, wishing Thero could think of sending me a message. I’ve been waiting for his text since I got in the office. I heaved a deep sigh and put down my pen.

Two days had quickly passed by. Thero never notifies me what’s up about him. No text. No call. To diminish the yearning of mine regarding to him, I just tell myself he’s just busy.

The irresistible impulse to settle putting forth any efforts vanishes as it might lead to intrusion. Besides, I get used to being neglected when he got mad at me. That was my negligence.

Notwithstanding the milieu—white ceiling and walls—to lighten up my mood or just gently placate me doesn’t actually work.

Since it’s just half past seven—too early to come to office—the cubicles are unoccupied except me and my close friend-s***h-workmate Rose Cervantes.

“Mella, been hearing your heaved and audible sigh. Don’t hesitate to tell me what it is,” Rose uttered to break the deafening silence that engulfed us a moment ago. “Mella, let me guess it. Boyfriend problem?” she guessed.

I stared at her and caught her writing on a memo paper on my clerical desk. She actually anticipated what I’ve been thinking for a few moments.

We are sitting across each other; she takes a furnished chair with a mattress in the middle, while I occupy a gray swivel chair.

She’s a co-leader of this department and whom I’ve been with for about three years. In spite of being a senior in the department, I never encourage her and my workmates to call me addressing with politeness.

We have our marketing presentation with the OIC and stockholders today that’s why I contacted Rose last night to come early to help me prepare anything needed.

Under the starry, but gloomy night with the feeling metallic while reminiscing the moments with Thero, I coped up with finishing the power point presentation and our new marketing plan. I will just proofread it once and print it afterwards.

With Rose’s long eyelashes and purplish pupil, people can think of her using a pair of contact lens, but not. Her dilated eyes are natural and whoever surely observes it will feel a pique of envious.

There was once a time that I experienced a pang of jealousy, hoping that I can have a pair of eyes like hers. Nevertheless, contentment was what I had needed and having felt of satisfaction about myself is good.

Rose’s hair is vintage curl with five inches below the shoulder in length, and a lob of knot.

“Yes,” I precariously replied, having this uncertainty if the boyfriend issue is really my problem which the crux is definitely me.

She looked at me and placed her elbow upright with her right fist against chin. “Mella, set aside that onwards until we’ll have finished the presentation. That can’t help. Our presentation might be affected, especially that we will be facing the stockholders and Mr. Gumabao, the fiercest OIC in the world as my view,” Rose commented.

Other than OIC who must be in-charge on watching us attentively and give some feedbacks about the new marketing plan, the CEO has been out since last week to attend a conference in Paris.

“Yes, I know,” I simply answered and massaged my temple, trying to skip temporarily the feature of Thero in my memory. “Are you done with the memo?” I diverted to shift the atmosphere.

“Ah, yup. Here.” She took a small yellow bond paper on the table and handed it to me.

I grabbed it and took a look at the memos that were written in a printed style. Subsequently, I returned my gaze to her and beamed a little.

“Thanks, Rose, and wish us luck. We must impress them this time. Remembering the day, Rose, Sectetary Luz had scoffed at us only because of a misplaced hash made me cringe, but such a practical application for us to learn,” I mentioned, maintaining my eye contact with her.

“Ah… I remembered that. Looking at her, popping out veins in anger made me realize that being lenient can’t help us grow. We need him for us to be professional,” she affirmed then extended her index finger. “And one more thing, you must do your best. Keep in mind that we are with your position rival Queenie. She will surely do her best to slam you and make up herself as the leader.”

“So desperate, simply to say. Let Queenie. I’m not even competing to her. In contrast, proving herself is good but doing it wrong is awful. And then—like you know—it is not my aspiration to be the leader,” I answered and rested my back then steered my swivel chair with the support of my right foot and my hands in the seat rails.

“Okay. Mella, I’ll get going. I will just have coffee downstairs in the cafeteria. Want some?” she offered and stood up while fixing now her bag on my clerical desk.

I shook my head in response. “No, Rose, thanks. I might palpitate later or worst shudder. Better to be infallible than making mistakes through my words,” I snickered then pressed my lips together afterwards.

“Exactly,” she lastly said, laughing before grabbing her bag and skirted the cubicles she passed through.

THE PRESENTATION WAS DONE AFTER AN HOUR. Somehow, Secretary Luz didn’t notice wrong with our presentation. Our job was done well. Also, the stockholders commended us for thinking an strategic plan for the new marketing.

All was well… just except for Queenie who had a lethal glare at me for as if I have sinned. I really can’t apprehend with her attitude.

She’s way too older than me—as how she looks like—but I actually don’t know how old is she. We haven’t had a conversation where she could entertain me well—or not even casually she can do. Not only she doesn’t like me, but also damns me to hell. What I think the root of this is me being appointed as the leader which she quite hopes to have.

“Mella, relying our trust to you is worth. From the start, you’ve never failed the department. You’re consistently skillful,” Rose complimented as we set foot onto the doorway of our department office.

“Thanks, Rose. And then, I am not the only who worked for it. You’re also great. You’ve done well!” I cheered and averted my eyes to the rod handle.

“Fluttering,” she commented and nudged me on the right arm. “And no doubt, you’re the leader of the Marketing Department,” she added, having this upheaval tone that she may seem to innuendo someone.

When I was about to push the glass door, by my peripheral vision I saw Rose tilting her head rightwards. To fill the gap of perplexity, I turned around only to discover that Queenie is the one whom Rose is looking at.

Queenie crossed her arms against her abdomen while tucking her chin. She raised her right brow and smile enigmatically. She looks obscure that something wicked is about to happen. Then, she looked me directly in the eye with her dark inexplicable eyes.

“What did you say, Rose? Repeat it, again,” she snapped, her eyebrows furrowed in profound disapproval. She next ran her hands through her shoulder length swept back hair.

“Undoubtedly, Mella got the position over… someone,” Rose emphasized the last word.

Queenie extended her index finger to prick at Rose while her face is flushing red. “Don’t me, Rose!” she fumed, but modulating her voice in order not to catch attention of others.

I crossed my arms and showed no emotion. “Be mature, Queenie. Don’t act like you’re just a high school student who’s always making trouble,” I interjected between her deadly glare towards Rose.

She looked back at me to hold eye contact. Then, she beamed ironically and gave me a crooked grin, trying to get me annoyed.

“Mature? Better to reprimand your friend instead of me,” she swaggered. “And, Mella, don’t fe—”

I snapped, “Making trouble is your hobby. I wouldn’t wonder if you gain some haters the next days.”

“Funnily enough!” Queenie blurted out, popping out veins.

I sniggered and held Rose’s arms then walked with her then pushed the glass door.

Even so I can’t discern what Queenie reacted after we turned our back, I know she’s clenching her jaw and jutting her chin due to rage. If only she didn’t precede this, I wouldn’t utter words that made her angry.

I had a peek at my workmates under my department who are in their own cubicles, unison to averting their gaze to us immediately.

I am aware that the scene between us three came into view since the door glass is fully transparent.

Rose and I just walked straightly down the aisle and put a halt by reaching the middle part causing it to draw the attention of all. I let go of Rose’s arms and my lips curved into satisfactory smile as I stepped forward.

“Folks, success!” I happily announced, hoping it can divert—or even just they pay no heed—the scenario to the result of the presentation.

With their dilated eyes, they suddenly burst out yelling and into gladness. Some cheerfully stood up and did high-five. They pumped fists above their heads and those who remained in their seats spun their swivel chair. They even mimicked body language which appeared them to be dancing and swaying with their arms.

“All hard works are paid! So, folks, this wouldn’t happen without your undying help. Furthermore and pointedly, the new marketing plan is approved!” I rejoiced.

The new marketing plan duly signed and will be put into action next month. This plan is for those parents in correspond to their kids as our niche market who prefer different flavors in vegies nourishment foods which other competitors haven’t done and advertised.

My workmates then sat down and leaned on the backrest.

I turned towards the door and saw Queenie isochronously roll her eyes. I just ignored her then my gaze sought Rose and the sides of my mouth turned up in a warm smile.

I began to walk towards my clerical desk, meanwhile Rose went to her cubicle to continue—which I assume—what she has been doing since yesterday. I saw her writing a love letter to her boyfriend from the commencement of getting into relationship.

Does writing love letters still exist? If it does, then good. Love is much more special with a letter. It is one of the ways which people can perform to make someone feel fluttered or show th e sincerity.

What if I try to write some? Does it sound cliché?