Secret Shopper (12 page)

             
I explained the situation to Thomas as best as I could. I blew my cover as a secret shopper and explained that running into him at the karaoke bar was a weird coincidence. I must admit, Thomas was a bright young lad. He kept up with my ranting as I untangled the mess my job and Rachel created. I wasn’t sure how he would make me being an evaluator of his customer service. Would he even want to still talk to me since I wasn’t officially divorced yet? In my heart and mind I was. I had removed my wedding ring a day ago, with Rachel’s insistence, which really meant that she threatened to cut off my ring finger with a dull butter knife. It was very strange to have any feelings for someone new so soon after accepting that I would once again be single. What if he just wanted to be friends? I was getting way ahead of myself.

             
“Wow.” That’s all he said numerous times. I wasn’t sure if I should tell him that I was the brunette from a few days prior to the hit.

             
“Thomas, I would understand if you don’t want to speak to me. The circumstances are strange and I don’t want you or me to get in trouble with the work situation. Your sister might not like that the evaluator sent to assess her brother is even speaking to him now.”

             
“Was the evaluation a glowing one?”
Crap
. He received a 75%. Satisfactory, but not glowing. Hell, the truth seemed to be working for me lately, so I decided to go with it.

             
“Your sister should be reviewing the report with you by next week.” I side stepped his question. So much for laying it all out.

             
“But, did I do well?” He must have not realized it was me who did the evaluation. He barely caught a glimpse of me when I sang a favorite off his oldies song list. “I mean, what’s done is done. It’s not like my sister is going to fire me over what you wrote. She evaluates all her employees, family included. She had one done on her husband last month!” He sounded more amused, than shocked.

             
“In terms of grades, you got a C.” I felt at ease speaking to Thomas about this. He wanted the criticism. He owned his actions.

             
“Great!”
Really?
“I probably failed at not offering you a meal or smiling enough or winking or whatever criteria you have to assess. But, tell me one thing, did you like the sub I made you?”

             
“I, uh, yeah it was great.” The best thing I had had in months actually. I wasn’t sure why he was so happy about a mediocre score.

             
“Enough said. I’m a great sub creator and who cares how the food is delivered. I did it efficiently enough and I got you from point A to point B, no frills. Would you come back to the shop because of me or the delicious sub?” That was a tricky question, because I did enjoy the food, but I enjoyed seeing him as well. Was I going to admit that now? Rachel’s little voice popped in my head whispering,
“Let the man pursue you, they like the hunt, leave some mystery—that will keep them coming back for more.”

             
“The sub.” I left it at that and I swear I heard him deflate a bit. I felt bad, but held my tongue. I wasn’t even divorced yet and had no business talking to this man—even if he was an Adonis.

             
“Um, I was actually calling now because your friend, Rachel—that is her real name, right?” Thomas asked sarcastically. “She said you wouldn’t have your phone back until after five today and, um.”

             
He seemed rattled. It was darling. I curled my knees to my chin as I sat on my bed and wondered if Thomas remembered me from Tuesday. I’m sure if I told him I ordered under the name, Mufasa, he would make the connection. I decided to hold that tidbit until later. Maybe if we met face to face a light bulb would go off, but there I went again making assumptions about where this initial phone call was headed.

Thomas continued, “I called because I really enjoyed your rendition of the Everly Brother’s song. It’s one of my favorites. You sound a lot like Linda Ronstadt.”

              “Yeah, I checked it out on YouTube. I guess I can see why you think I sound like her, but I’m nowhere near as good as her.” I expressed modestly.

             
“I think you’re better.”
Blush
. “I was wondering if it would be too much to ask for you to have lunch with me tomorrow. I promise it won’t be at Bag It, unless you really want to go there.”

             
“Um, you’re asking me out based on the way my voice sounded? Did you even see what I looked like? Do you even know when I evaluated you? I know you guys get a lot of customers. I could be hideous!” I was being melodramatic playing devil’s advocate, but I really didn’t comprehend how the sound of my voice would compel Thomas to ask me out. I pushed this glorious man away because I thought he was being reckless in asking me out on so little data. Was I crazy or was he?

             
“I guess it does sound weird when you put it that way, but like I said, your voice is wonderful. I saw you in a dark dress sitting at the booth, you have light colored hair. You’re human right? I’d like to stick to the same species.” I let up and we shared a laugh. Our first laugh together.

             
“Well, Thomas, did Rachel—whom I will kill on a later date since she’s on a flight back to Guam—tell you I was going through a divorce?” From the silence, I could tell that she did not. Was this what I needed to push him away? Why did I want to do that?

             
“You’re Chamorro. I love Guam.” It was like I didn’t even drop the D-word.

             
“Thomas, I’m still technically a married, Chamorro woman. Doesn’t that freak you out at all? Not to mention, I could lose my job because you know I’m a super secret spy.”

             
“I won’t tell anyone I know, if you won’t. I don’t want to pressure you into meeting me. Heck, did you think
I
was hideous?”
No chance
, I thought. “Rachel said I looked like that vampire character, which I guess is a compliment, but only if you liked what you saw.” I did. But, I wouldn’t tell him this, at least not now.

             
“Thomas, it’s not that easy. I’m a bit old-fashioned I guess. I literally just took off my wedding ring yesterday. You seem like a great guy and I would love to find out more about your stay on Guam. And, that Sirena painting! I would love to know where you found that. God, I’m talking too much.”

“No, I like it.”

I smiled, “I mean, typically mainlanders are clueless about my home island or get it all wrong. You, you have those beautiful pictures in the shop and the Guam Sub, I know it’s on the menu because of you and you even knew who Sirena was. You sang the song!”
Oops
, that was the brunette me that ordered under Sirena. I could hear the cogs and gears in Thomas’s head bring him back to that day I did a pre-emptive strike on the shop.

             
“Are you? You ordered the Rock Lobster!” He got it. Damn, he was a smart lad. “I followed you out to your car and you said your husband was from Guam! You drive a red Rav4.” I wondered how all this new information would affect his invitation to lunch. I so wanted to go. I couldn’t understand why I was so resistant. Perhaps it was because having a lunch date the day before my “husband” was due in town was so, soap opera-ish, so wrong.

             
“You caught me,” was all I could say.

             
“You had wavy brown hair in a ponytail!” Thomas was smarter than the average bear. His attention to detail would make him a great field agent too.

             
“Yes, that was me. Rachel treated me to a spa day and I had my hair upgraded. I couldn’t risk you recognizing me on Tuesday anyway!” Once I said that, Thomas Einstein spread out the pieces and figured out the equation.

             
“Mufasa?” He began to laugh so hard that I thought he would cough up a lung. It was a very hearty laugh, genuine and cute. “You’re hilarious, you know that?”

             
“Hilarious looking?” I mumbled.

“What? No, you’re genuinely funny.”

“Is that a good or bad thing?” I asked nervously. I really did want to impress this guy. Did he like the brunette me or the blonde me? Inquiring minds wanted to know.

             
“Phoenix, Phoenix.” The sound of my name from his mouth was hypnotizing. He composed himself and became quiet. I thought our phone call dropped. I looked at the rolling seconds on my phone’s screen and then heard, “Do you realize that this is technically my second attempt at asking you out?”

             
“What do you mean?” I was confused.

             
“On that day you ordered the sub as
Sirena
—mermaid vixen of the sea, I knew you were from Guam. I wanted to ask what village you were from among other things, but chickened out.”

             
“Oh,” was my weak response.

             
“I ran out to find out if you were really from Guam. I love Guam people, really. I must have been Chamorro in another life. I thought you were cute in your blue suit. I thought maybe you were a flight attendant.” He must be joking, until I realized that I did look flight attendant-ish that Sunday. “Your mini Guam flag on the rear view mirror gave me hope and I wanted an excuse to talk to you so I fibbed and said you forgot your meal items. You rejected free food and
me.
” Thomas laughed softly.

             
“I really am on a diet,” I murmured more to myself, suddenly excited to know a man who used words like
fib
.

             
Were the fates trying to propel me to this man? If my karma account was being cashed in, why did I have to go through a marriage with Bradley to find someone like Thomas?
Hold up
, I thought. We weren’t talking marriage here. Thomas was fascinating, but I had to keep the reins tight on this, whatever
this
was with this handsome man.

Thomas reassured me that the divorce issue didn’t scare him. He did ask if I had kids and sighed loudly when I said that I did not. Was that because he didn’t like kids or wanted kids that would be only ours, I wondered wistfully.

I begrudgingly declined the lunch invitation a second time. I explained more about my job and the reason for the divorce. It was a relief to share my dilemma with someone outside of my family and friends. Albeit he was a near stranger, but Thomas welcomed the truth that I offered. He truly seemed interested in me, my story. We spent almost three hours on the phone that first night. If the battery on my Blackberry wasn’t about to fizzle, who knew how long we would continue to jabber on. I had the home phone number disconnected because it was an unnecessary expense. A sense of desperation crept into my tummy as I knew our call was about to end.

I never remembered having any conversation for more than half an hour with Bradley. Thomas was understanding of my shaky marital situation. He wasn’t jealous at all that Bradley was rolling back into town that weekend, from what I could tell. He did ask, in a shy, adorable way if he could call me later in the week. I liked that he did not pressure me even if I wanted to speak with him tomorrow and the next day. I still had so many questions about his adventures on
Guam and this Chamorro roommate he befriended.

Thomas offered his e-mail address and I was hesitant

to give him mine since his was straightforward,
[email protected]. He asked for my e-mail

again and I sheepishly told him
[email protected]
. I could tell that he was smiling through his proceeding comments, his tone light. “I like that.” He whispered.

I asked if he was on Facebook and he hopped into a tirade about social networks being a waste of time and a simple tool for voyeurs, practical strangers to gawk at and judge your photos and offer unwanted comments. I must be a criminal voyeur then, even though I survived without checking in on the rest of my three hundred friends in the past few weeks.

“God, I’m sorry. You probably have a very active Facebook life.”

“Actually, it’s slowed down a lot. Don’t apologize.”

“If you don’t mind, can I get your mailing address too? I promise I won’t stalk you. I might hang out outside your bathroom window in hopes of hearing you sing though.” The psycho killer alert should have gone off in my brain, but since it didn’t, I let him have it. He offered his as well and I got a fuzzy feeling in the pit of my stomach when I realized that we lived in the same area. He didn’t comment that our zip codes were neighboring districts though.

“So, you’re okay about hanging back until I get this mess of a divorce thing finalized?” Thomas didn’t owe me anything, but I wanted his promise. Even though Bradley said I should date someone, it didn’t feel right. I couldn’t have my feet in both the married realm and the dating realm at the same time. I wasn’t greedy. I needed the clean break.

“Hey, I’m a fan of your singing for sure. I enjoyed our conversation. You intrigue me to no end and you’re as funny as hell. Who’s to say we can’t just be friends?”