THE FIRST CALL

In a normal work setting, particularly in Marshmello Printing Press, it was very unusual for her boss, Mr. Mike Ross to send for a worker unprovoked. There had to be a reason. Isioma and Mr. Ross had not spoken much lately. There had to be a reason for this. 

Why did he send for me? Have I done anything wrong to him? What could be the reason for the sudden call? He never calls me.

She decided to voice out exactly what and how she felt. “Is everything okay? Did he tell you that there was anything wrong? I know you are his secretary; you should know better when anything is wrong. Do you think I did anything wrong? Rania, are you sure there is nothing because it is very unusual for him to send for me.” 

Rania, for a second, stood confused. Why did Isioma think it was okay for her to ask such questions? Was she a mind-reader that would know what exactly her boss thought? How was she supposed to know why their boss called? Even if she did, did Isioma expect her to disclose information? 

For Christ’s sake, Rania was the office’s secretary and confidentiality was one core aspect of the job. She guarded and knew the office’s best-kept secrets and would not go about with a blabbing mouth, otherwise, she risked losing her job. In moments like this, she would have dropped a hint, but she has no clue why the CEO, Mr. Mike Ross, sent for her.

“To be very honest, I have no idea why he sent for you. All he asked for was for me to come and call you, nothing more. I suggest you go and see him now.”

“Oh okay. I will definitely go and see him now.” Isioma replied, trying to undertone her bewilderment. 

Ross had never called her before; the one time he called was to ask about how brilliant the story she wrote on African Customs after colonialism. And that was when she had just resumed work at Marshmello. This came as a shock to her.

Again, what could be the problem? Why was her boss sending for her at this time? She had just resumed work and had not even gone into the day’s work yet, but she was being called. Who does that?

She proceeded to his office and knocked, breathing in and out heavily, like a leopard reasdy to pounce, except that in this case, she was a leopard, but ready to run.

“Who is there?” he asked as though someone was interrupting a very important aspect of his never-ending day.

At this point, Isioma started shivering. She was worried, and being the overthinker that she was, she started contemplating going back to her office, packing her bags, and leaving Marshmello Printing Press, saving herself the embarrassment of being fired.

“Good day sir. It is Isioma, sir. I heard you sent for me.”

“Yes, dear. Come in,” he responded.

“Isioma, I’ve heard you were writing a story on boundaries and therapy. That’s beautiful,” he said as he stared at her lips. 

"You are very beautiful" 

He muttered under his breath again and couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by Isioma’s beauty. He paused and looked at how beautiful she was. Her lips were glossy pink and her eyes were beaming and glossy. He licked his lips as he stared at them.

He stood up from his black flexible chair and moved towards the visitors' chair where Isioma was sitting. He brushed his hand across her hair. It was soft and silky. And her fore hair was permed. 

“What have you been up to today?” he asked Isioma.

“Well, sir. I have been writing sir. I was about to make a blog post on boundaries when you called me, sir.”

“Oh! Really? That is a very precise topic you chose dear. Did anything prompt that?” he asked in such a way that showed he feigned surprise. 

“Okay, sir. This might sound funny but, my mother inspired this post to be very honest.”

“Oh really. That’s interesting. How? If I may ask.”

“Well, when I first moved to the United States, my mother would always call me every minute every second just to make sure that I was doing okay. I appreciated this gesture of course, but to be candid, it, at some point, became very annoying. Like her prying into my relationship”

The word relationship rang like an early morning bell in Mr. Ross’ ears. It felt like music to the ears of a man who had been deaf for four years and had just recovered or was just introduced to the technology of hearing aids. 

“Relationships, what do you mean? Are you being serious right now?” Ross asked, not because he was curious in actuality but because he just wanted to know more. He wanted her to divulge more information. However, Isioma, being the very smart and calculative person she was, killed that part of the conversation because she had a feeling Mr. Ross was trying to get words out of her mouth.

“Yes, relationships. One time, my mother called me just to make sure I turned off the gas cylinder at night before bedtime. Is that not crazy? Or that one time when I was going out late at night, for a friend’s birthday party and my mother called me and asked me to send the address of the party, the name of the so-called friend when I would be returning when I would be leaving the house amongst some other things that I cannot mention.”

“Are those the only things she requests for? To an extent, in your mother’s defense, these are very normal things that any parent would want to know about their children. 

“You would not understand to be very honest. My mother is a very lovely person if I am being very honest and truthful. However, she babies me a lot and feels like she can just jump in and out of my life, you know, influencing and making decisions as she owns me. When I was younger, my friends were often allowed to go out and do things that kids do but my mother? Never! She would make my siblings and I stay indoors all day reading and solving mathematical calculations.”

With every word that came out of Isioma’s mouth, Mr. Mike Ross marveled in amusement. With every syllable pronounced, with every break, everyone breathes and paused, he was bewildered. 

Mr. Ross started to stare at her lips, both the upper one and the lower one, as though he was a dog drooling from the sight of its favorite canned food.

Seeing that he was lost in his thoughts, Isioma asked, “Sir, is all well?”

“What? What? What do you mean?” he asked as he stammered.

“You have been staring at that wall for over some minutes now, and I just wanted to know if everything was alright, sir”

He shook his head and wanted to make sure she did not notice that he was drooling over her. “Nothing, well, nothing is wrong”

In an attempt to make sure that she did not suspect a thing if only she knew. “In all you said, I do not think your mother hates you, I feel she cares about you a lot that is why she is doing all of that monitoring and checking on you. Some parents do not have enough time on their hands to be doing such a thing, you know.”

“I hear you, sir”

A huge air of silence ensued between the two of them. Mr. Ross became slightly anxious and worried. “Did she notice me stalking her? Did she notice me looking at the moving of her every lip? I hope I did not make her uncomfortable,” he thought. Seeing that the silence between them was beginning to linger, he decided to break it. 

“Well, on why I called you. I sent it to you because I needed to make sure you are currently working on something new at the moment. Are you doing something that can improve the wellness and sales of this company?” Mr. Ross asked Isioma who was sitting with her legs crossed at her feet, and her head slightly faced down. 

“Yes sir. I am currently working on the blog­­­­, that is, the company’s blog post. Oh, okay that is good.”

Deep down within him, Mr. Ross knew his reason for calling her was much deeper than that. He just wanted to admire her beauty or do something more.

“Would that be all, sir?” she asked, seeing that he was not saying much anymore.

“Yes, for now. If anything comes up during the day, I would let you know.”

On hearing that he was done, she stood up. Mr. Ross fixed his gaze heavily as she made her way to the door of his office. He stared at her buttocks so bad, calculating the softness of his palms on every inch of her hips.

“Damn!” He exclaimed at the shut of the door.