Unveiling Little Dirty Secrets

Signed Contract

I lazily reach for my phone on the side table to answer the call, “Yes?” I asked sleepily. I peeked through the phone's screen and saw that it's 6:30 in the morning. It feels like I slept for just an hour after last night.

“Yes, good morning to you, Son.” The other line responded in a sweet motherly tone. It was mom.

“Good morning, Mom. It’s early in the morning, and I have work at 8,” I responded.

“Don’t you remember what day it is today?” She sounded hurt.

“I'm sorry, Mom, been busy lately.” I answered apologically. It wasn't the first time that I forgot the dates that mom wanted us to keep note of. I usually forgot about them, not because I don't appreciate my mom's effort but because since I left the house to live on my own, I was busy trying to prove that I can live independently.

“Well, I was hoping that you can go home this Sunday to celebrate your father's birthday,” mom sounds energetic when it comes to Dad, even though he rarely stays at home — at this point, he is just visiting home when it's convenient on his end — mom didn't mind obviously, she loves him more than he love me and my older sister probably.

“I'll check my schedule for tomorrow, Mom.”

“I thought you didn't have work during Sundays?”

“I'll check.” I said firmly. It's not that I don't want to go home and be with them, I know mom is trying her best to keep the family together, but it’s been three years since I discovered the truth and everything just made sense, finally. I may not directly confront them about it, but I think mom knows.

“Son, it's been a while since you came home, also your Dad,” her voice cracked and it feels like my heart has been pinched, “it's been five months since we were complete.” she continued, I covered my eyes with my left hand and sighed.

“Okay, Mom. I'll be there for dinner but I won't be sleeping there.”

“Yes, Son, yes.” she responded cheerfully, and I bit my lower lip. How can life be cruel to kindhearted souls like my Mom, how can a woman like her carry a lot, and how can I deserve a mother like her.

“Oh, don't forget to greet your father, okay?” she continued, I agreed, and we ended the call. It's quarter to seven when I checked and messaged Dad a happy birthday, delivered as usual. I grew up seeing Dad twice a month, I was used to it. The bond between us grew apart when I was a teen. He stopped giving me random gifts, but we would still greet each other during holidays and special occasions along with gift-giving and short “how's life been?” talk but that was all, I don't have any idea what he was doing at work and he has no idea of mine, at first, I questioned why can't he be like other dads, my mom used to reasoned that dad was just busy at work, but now, I know it wasn't just the reason why.

After a while, I forced myself to get up from bed and checked my emails. I laughed at the thought that maybe mom was right when she said that I was like dad, a workaholic. It's not like I want to be like him but I once thought that maybe if I did a good job, make my own name, carved my path, he would recognize me, but even after several promotions — from being an intern to now Senior Project Manager — dad did not rejoice for me just like other dads out there.

I shrugged the thoughts and had my morning ritual done and drove to work. On my way to my office, Cian was waiting for me, and instead of taking the elevator, we used the stairs.

“Don’t tell me you hook up with her,” Cian is trying to keep his composure, and I laugh.

“It’s not funny, Javi!” He continued.

“Okay, chill, bro,” I calm him down.

“You can just leave it to Lorraine, Athena just refused her once. She can try again,” Cian started lecturing me, I just kept silent.

“I know that your tactics will work well especially to women like Athena but you can't just go out there and do your employees’ job, it's their, our job to make that contract signed, you know.”

“How many months did I give Lorraine to seal the contract with Athena?” I asked Cian when we reached my office. He released a sigh of defeat.

“It’s been three months, Cian, Mr. Queño gave us four months, four months,” I emphasized, “if we don't get Athena to sign the contract, we will lose. How much?” I added.

“Thirthy percent of the total sales for a three-year contract,” he answered, and I nodded.

“But still, that's not the proper way to do that, don't you think?”

“Look, Cian, dude, I did not tell her that our company sent her management an offer, neither my name and contact number,” I smugly explained to him.

“You had s*x with someone who has a boyfriend.” Cian sounded and looked pissed, I shrug, and Cian frustratingly pulled his hair.

“I just did Lorraine, and oh, Athena a favor too, it's a win-win situation afterall,” I laughingly said and he raised his both hands as a sign of defeat and I laughed louder.

“You don't even like Athena. You used her.”

“She used me too, Cian, I gave her —”

“I don't want to hear about it.” I continued laughing, and Cian left my office after placing the files to be reviewed. Cian was a good friend from college, we both studied Art Marketing, he was my junior, we became friends because he sent a letter of confession to Janine — a friend of mine in political science — and was rejected, we laugh at it now. Cian's a good guy. He's smart too, but he nags a lot. I thought I survived mom's nagging, but Cian's way is different. He would make comments about my work plans and even my coffee choices.

I slightly jumped from my seat while reviewing the files when my office telephone rang, I composed myself before answering.

“No way in hell, oh, sorry, I mean, Sir Javi, you wouldn't believe what I just received," Cian, on the line, sounded surprisingly excited. I raise an eyebrow and ask, “What?”

“Lorraine submitted the signed contract, Athena's!” I utter an “oh,” it was surprisingly faster than I imagined, I thought it would take her at least a week.

“Well, a win for us,” I said and instructed Cian to inform Mr. Queño.

“Guess, I have to change my phone number again.” I sigh. I know for sure Athena got my phone number from whoever-her-source-is, the things that libido can do, I guess.