December 2010

Communication

by: Georgina Kamsika

The rain pounds against the pavement as I stride towards the office, my blouse soaked almost see-through and high-heels sticking in the cracks of the pavement. Keeping my head down, I dance between cars fighting to move. My goal – the office door - is in sight, when a black wall steps in front of me.

 “Hello.”

 I look up, my hand shielding my face from the rain.  Tall, blue eyes and a scruffy blond mane; Chris – my lead programmer and, in my opinion, the cutest guy in the office.  He’s tilting his umbrella towards me with one eyebrow raised.  I mentally inventory myself; bedraggled hair, running mascara and peep-show shirt.  Damn.

 “Hey Chris, thanks.”  I take a step closer, just underneath the edge of the brolly.

 He smiles, his face crinkling enough to remind me he’s closer to my age than the others working on my team.  “The drowned rat look.  Kind of suits you.”

The gauntlet thrown, I can’t help but respond.  “I was trying to look as scruffy as you, but it seems I failed.”

Chris snorts, the arm holding the umbrella pressing against my back, guiding me towards the office.  

“So, you still like working with us?”  He asks.  “What’s it been, a month?”

“Just over three now, probation ended last week.  I like it, good place to work, except…”  I trail off, a suitably distraught expression on my face.

“Except what?”  He leans closer and I smell something spicy.

“Well, there’s this guy who’s a complete jerk.  What’s his name… that’s it, my main coder, Chris!”

He straightens, his face doing the cute crinkling thing again.  “You’re so funny.  Is it actually in your job description to pick on me?”

“Yeah, Mark added it last week.”

I dart up the steps into the office, holding the door open as he shakes the rain off.  He moves towards me, one pace closer than custom would dictate is polite.

“So Heather, what am I working on today?”

I sidle backwards towards the corridor to the managers’ office.  “Those bugs from Friday…”  I see his brow crease, and hurry onwards.  “And something new; I’ll message you?”

“’kay, later.”  He doesn’t move, watching me scurry away as he drips water in the lobby.

#

For the first time since I started at the company, the invoice spreadsheets have balanced.  I eye them warily, something must be missing.  I switch to the timesheets and begin to double check the figures - then my messenger window flashes.

Chris: phone me when you have a sec

I stare at it, debating finishing the invoices (important), or phoning Chris (interesting), and despite years of management training, I plump for interesting and dial his extension.

“Hey, what’s up?”  I ask.

“Heather.”  My name sounds good coming from his mouth.  “I’m bored.”

“And you’re telling me because…?”  I realise I’ve lowered my volume and glance surreptitiously at my colleagues.  None of them is looking up and my boss Mark is busy on the phone.

“Because you said when I’d finished sorting out those bugs, you had some new work for me?”

“Oh.”  The tension eases out of my shoulders and I lean back in the chair.  “Yeah, let me email you across this new spec, just a little tool for deleting users.”

“Urgh, oh well, it’ll keep me busy.”

“Such keenness on an afternoon,” I laugh.

“I wouldn’t go that far; tis more commonly known as boredom,” he chuckles.  “Oh quick fingers, the spec’s here.”

“Do you need a few minutes to read…?”

“Nah, lets go through it now on the phone.”  I can hear his mouse clicking as he reads the document.  “Okay… yeah, that makes sense.  Hmmmm.”

“You just like me on the other end of the line while you think.”  I murmur.  “Three months and most of what you’ve said to me is ‘hmm’.”

“You help me concentrate, I like talking to you.”  I’m flattered by this, but Chris ploughs on, all business.  “Specification US024 is wrong.  We can’t delete for over 24 months, in case of an open booking.”

“Okay, I’ll update it.”

“Anyway, since I kind of brought it up, I wanted to ask you…” he pauses and the line goes quiet.

“What?”

The open messenger window flickers:  User is typing…

I sit and watch the screen, waiting for the message to appear, but I can’t hear him typing anymore.

“I thought you were asking me something?”

“Yeah, just a sec.  I’m trying to.”

I roll my eyes and keep looking at the IM screen.  I still can’t hear typing.  “Chris…”  I peer over at my boss, worried that I’m not exactly being my most productive.

I hear him sigh, then say “Okay,” and I hear him hit a key.

Chris:  Lunch?

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I know it’s not exactly in the spec but…”

“Well, I wasn’t expecting that, no…”

Chris:  Say yes.

I hesitate, concerned that the whole office can hear me.  “Mmmm.”

Heather: Lunch like everyone needs to eat, or lunch like a date, lunch?

“I did say it wasn’t part of the spec. Come on, what do you think?”  He laughs.

Chris: I guess more like a date.  But with lunch.

Heather:  What brought this on?

“I intend to do some investigation, part of the project design.”

Chris: What can I say, I have a thing for drowned rats.

“Hard worker,” I smile.  “You really want to get to know the spec well.”

Chris:  Was that a yes?

“Yes.”

Chris: Good. Five minutes?

Heather: Sure

“Speak to you in a bit.”  I’m smiling as I put the phone down.  Not only have I balanced the spreadsheets, I have a lunch date with Chris.  Can this day get any better?

For the first time this morning, my boss, Mark, waves at me.  “Heath, don’t go anywhere.  All your servers are down – might have to work through lunch on this one.  Sorry.”

As I drop my face to my hands, I curse Murphy for his damnable law.

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Bio:
Georgina Kamsika was born in South Yorkshire, UK, to Anglo Indian immigrant parents. After attending a local catholic school, she escaped to university in Nottingham and began writing. Many years later, she began taking writing seriously and has published short stories in magazines and the odd anthology.

She admits to being a geek, loves reading books and comics and playing computer games and enjoying working on the internet, because it’s a fun place to be.

Please visit her at http://www.kamsika.com/