Talk to Me

by D K Sutton

  “It’s not that easy,” I said with a sigh. We stared across the room toward the target of our conversation. Cubicles as far as the eye could see obstructed our view. This would be a soul-sucking job if I didn’t love certain aspects of it. Having my best friend for ten years beside me was definitely one of the perks.

  “Man up, dude. I’m tired of listening to you whine about it.”

  Except when he was being a little bitch. “I’ve got this.” But I didn’t and we both knew it.

  “Maybe you should just sleep with him already and get it over with.”

  “Please. He is not my type.” I’m not sure how I said that with a straight face. I might not like Chase Corrigan, but he was every gay man’s wet dream. Slim, firm build and a hot ass. His gorgeous face was all angles with intelligent pale blue eyes. Top that off with a long mane of light blond hair you could wrap your hands around… I pushed those thoughts away. Especially since Dylan was watching me with knowing eyes.

  “Yeah, right,” he said with a smirk. “Totally not your type.”

  “All I’m interested in is being the top customer service rep, and he’s in my way.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t bitch-out the customers.”

  “That was one time. And that guy deserved it. Seriously, the problem was with his computer and not our equipment, and he still insisted I send out a tech. I just told him, politely I might add, that I’d send one out, but there was no way the tech could fix it because we weren’t the problem.”

  “Why are you so competitive?”

  “I’m not.” At his raised eyebrow, I added, “I just like to win.” When you had five siblings, everything was a competition. I shook my head. “I don’t know how Chase does it. He bitches at everyone—”

  “Not everyone. I think we’ve established it’s mostly you.”

  I ignored that remark. “He’s not friendly. He doesn’t join in. He stays strictly in his lane and doesn’t play well with others.”

  “I think you’re pissed because there’s someone out there immune to the Maxwell Sloan charm.” Dylan grinned, enjoying this more than he should.

  But he wasn’t entirely wrong. Chase and I got off to a bad start. The first time we met, I hit on him. All that glorious long hair distracted me. The second he turned around all fire and fury, I knew it would never happen. I liked to have a good time. But Chase carried a seriousness about him, something that screamed—he didn’t do casual. Unfortunately, or fortunately, however you wanted to look at it, casual was my go-to thing. I thought of the guy from Saturday night. What was his name again? Lucas? Levi? No, that wasn’t right. Anyway, I had no desire to settle down. And although the challenge of something out of my reach was tempting, I liked my guys a little more thawed out. From that moment on, all I ever got from him was frosty looks, like I wasn’t good enough to shine his stylish black boots. Whatever. That was fine with me. I liked being on top. As in top customer service rep, not the sexual position. I liked to take more than give. The image of Chase pounding into me as his long hair teased the skin on my back arose unbidden. I pushed it out of my mind.

  Chase Corrigan was in my way, and I needed to focus on that. I reminded Dylan of this. “It’s about the money.” There was a bonus involved and getting it was forever on the top of my to-do list.

  “How does he get top rep?” he asked, shaking his head. “Every month.”

  “I don’t know but it’s pissing me off.”

  “That’s what I’m talking about, Max. If you want it, go get it.”

  “How?” I had tried for months. Nothing I did seemed to matter. Customers loved Chase, and I just didn’t fucking get it.

  “I’ve got an idea.” Dylan smiled deviously as he glanced around the room, making sure no one was listening. All of them were at their desks, working like the little drones they were. Hive mentality made a lot more sense to me since I started here.

  “Go on. You have my attention,” I said, lowering my voice even more.

  “It involves bending the rules of the company and of decency,” he added.

  “Really? And you think I can beat him?”

  “And bring him down a peg or two.”

  A flash of icicle blue eyes threatened my resolve. But then I remembered all the times Chase had treated me like an infectious disease he was afraid of catching.

  “Fuck it,” I said. “Whatever it is, I’m in.”

  CHAPTER 4

  CHASE

  “IF YOU WANTED YOUR INTERNET TO WORK, keeping your modem plugged in might help.” I shut my eyes and took a deep breath. Normally, I was very professional. Number one in customer service satisfaction every month for the last six months. Part of that was because I was able to shut off my emotions and just focus on my work. At the moment, I was finding it very difficult. I pushed away thoughts of Maxwell Sloan, instead focusing on the call. “Yes, ma’am,” I said, forcing a smile in my voice. “It happens all the time. You’re welcome. And after the call, there will be a short survey. You can rate the service you got today at Cox Communications.”

  I ended the call with a sigh, hoping I would have a few minutes before the next call came through. It wasn’t the busiest time of day, so it was a possibility. I’d already used my BRB to grab another cup of coffee. I had to use a random cup from the cabinet. Just thinking about Maxwell drinking my coffee from my Yoda cup set my teeth on edge. There weren’t enough words in the world to describe how much I detested Maxwell Sloan.

  I did feel bad for how I treated James yesterday. He was a genuinely nice guy, but I’d known as soon as I’d looked into those laughing eyes that Maxwell had been behind it. Why did I let him get under my skin? He was arrogant and thought everyone should love him. Everyone should be charmed by his all-American good looks and hot body. I could admit he had a hot body.

  But if I was being honest with myself, I knew the reason Maxwell bothered me so much. But I wasn’t going to think about Cameron. It was in the past.

  This was not helping me get back on track. I took a deep breath, trying to find my peaceful center. Men like Maxwell and Cameron were all the same. I wasn’t going to let them bother me. Or ruin my life any more than they already had.

  I’d delivered my note to Maxwell, hoping that would be the end of it. Obviously, it hadn’t worked. Maybe he really was trying to apologize. But I brushed away those thoughts. Maxwell didn’t care about anyone but himself. Could I have used stronger language in my note? Or I could have told him instead of sending a note like a middle schooler. I really wasn’t antisocial like everyone said. I hated the agony of small talk. I limited my interactions with people to those who really mattered. The only way to make it through the day successfully, calmly, was to limit the amount of energy taken away, like a battery. Interacting used up my energy. I was drained by the end of the day.

  The strange thing was that interacting with Maxwell seemed to give me energy. It was mostly anger and frustration, but it was as if I’d been awakened from a deep sleep. I wasn’t comfortable at all with it. I chalked it up to the fight-flight-freeze survival response. Usually I tended to go the flight or freeze route, but Maxwell brought out the fight in me. Where had it been hiding all this time? Where had it been hiding with Cameron?

  This wasn’t helping. Why did my thoughts always return to Maxwell? I straightened the picture of my sister, her husband, and their two little girls. The picture always seemed to help ground me. My sister, Sunny, and I were twins, but we looked nothing alike. There were similarities, like the blond hair, but her hair was short and sassy, just like her. The picture was calming, reminding me there were people in the world who loved me. People who accepted me. It was enough to calm me so when the next call came through, I was ready for it.

  ~~~

  The last few hours of the afternoon slowed to a snail’s pace. It gave me way too much time to think. So, I was relieved when the another call came in.

  “Hi, my name is Chase from Cox Communications. How can I help you today?”


  The line was quiet, and I worried the call had been dropped. The button was still lit, so I wasn’t sure what was going on. “Hello, can I help you?”

  “Yeah, sorry.” The voice on the line was deep and somehow familiar. I shrugged off the feeling. I talked to hundreds of people a month. Of course, the voices would start to sound familiar. “I’m having some trouble,” he continued. “Nothing seems to be working.”

  “Well then you’ve come to the right place. Can I have your name?”

  “Mmm… How…Howard Hernandez.”

  This guy was definitely having problems, and it wasn’t just with his Internet. He seemed to have problems with his own name. I wondered if he had some mental issues as well. Or maybe he was just shy. “Can I have your account number?”

  “Okay.” The voice sounded relieved. He rattled off his number without any hesitation.

  I pulled up the account, noticing he lived on Hudson Street. I had a thing for alliteration. I loved names that began with the same letter. I almost had it with Chase Corrigan, but the difference in the sounds ruined it. This guy had his first and last name and street all start with H. People might think I was crazy for noticing things like that, but this job could be mind-numbing at times. Any distraction helped. Well, except for a certain arrogant jerk. I shook those thoughts off.

  The account did belong to Howard Hernandez, and for some reason that surprised me. The guy seemed so unsure. But I got weird calls all the time, and this was probably going to be another one. “Well, everything looks fine on your account, Howard,” I said. “What seems to be the problem?”

  “My Internet isn’t working. I mean I can’t get it to work.”

  “I can help with that.” I glanced at the basic list of things to do when the Internet wasn’t working. They gave us cheat sheets. Not that I really needed them, but I wanted to go by the book. Supervisors reviewed calls and sometimes jumped on in the middle of the conversation. I had Howard turn the modem off, wait ten seconds, and turn it on again. “How about now?”

  “No, still not working.” Howard lost his stutter, seeming more confident.

  “Is your phone connected to your Wi-Fi?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is that working?”

  “Yes, it is,” he said, sounding surprised, but for some reason I didn’t quite buy it. Something was off. I couldn’t put my finger on it, though.

  “Okay, let’s look at your computer. Do you know how to find the Wi-Fi?”

  “Yes.”

  “What does it say when you click on it?”

  “No networks available.”

  “Okay, let’s turn your computer off and on again to see if it will pick it up.”

  I waited while he did that. Then his deep voice once again came over the phone. “Okay, it’s coming back on.”

  He had such a nice voice. I could almost get lost in the deep tones. I willed those thoughts away. “Can you see your Wi-Fi now?”

  “No. Still not there.”

  If the phone worked, the problem had to be with his laptop. “Is your Wi-Fi enabled?” I asked. “Check your settings.”

  The sound of clicking reached me as he did what I asked. Then he let out a nervous laugh. “I’m so embarrassed,” he said. “It’s on airplane mode.”

  “Well, unless you’re on a plane right now, I don’t think you need that.”

  He laughed again, and it sounded more genuine than anything he’d said so far. My body reacted to the rich tone. The sound was so intimate it made me catch my breath. Do not get a hard-on while talking to a customer. But my body didn’t listen.

  “Anything else I could help you with?” I didn’t want to end the call. I could have listened to his voice all day.

  “I do have a question, if you don’t mind.”

  “Of course.”

  “Where are you from?”

  I hesitated. I sometimes got this question, but this was the first time I thought the person really wanted to know the answer. The calls were recorded, but I didn’t want to seem rude. “Missouri, right now.”

  “But originally?”

  “San Diego.”

  “I thought I detected a west coast vibe,” he said warmly. “How long have you been in Missouri?”

  I glanced at the clock. The call had gone over the strongly recommended fifteen-minute time frame. “A few years,” I said vaguely. “Is there anything else I can assist you with?”

  “No, I’m good.” He hesitated for a beat. Was he trying to think of more questions just to keep me on the line.? That seemed crazy. “Thank you so much, Chase,” Howard finally said. “Seriously, you’ve been very helpful.”

  “You’re welcome.” I explained the survey to him and let him know to call back if he had any additional problems.

  It wasn’t until after he’d hung up that I realized why the call had seemed so odd. The guy sounded young, despite his name, but he didn’t seem to know much about electronics. That was unusual.

  I’d gone well past the professional boundaries with the call, although I hadn’t technically done anything wrong. I felt a connection with the caller. That had never happened to me before.

  I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind as another call came through. This one didn’t go as well. I wasn’t able to help the customer. She called about her cable not working and unfortunately, it was an outage problem. I tried to be polite, but she was insistent I should be able to fix it. I probably did not get a good customer review from her.

  Later that afternoon, during my last break, I realized I hadn’t thought about Maxwell much at all that afternoon. There were several hours when I didn’t focus on him. At least that was something.

  CHAPTER 5

  MAX

  THE LAST PIECE OF PIZZA CALLED TO ME. I resisted the temptation. As the host, I needed to make sure that no one else wanted it. We probably should’ve ordered three pizzas instead of two.

  “What did you say to your brother-in-law to get him to let you use his information?”

  I shrugged as I reached for the piece of pizza. It had sat there for five minutes. It was fair game now, right? Besides, if we were going to talk about this, I needed the distraction.

  “I told him it was a prank. We’re known for our pranks, right?”

  “You told him it was a prank?” Sadie leaned over Dylan so she could fix her stare on me. We were all squeezed together on the couch, playing video games. She was Dylan’s girlfriend and they often came over together to play. I didn’t mind at all. In fact, Sadie was a much better player than Dylan. Not that I would admit that to my friend. No way. The only issue was that sometimes watching them together brought up feelings of loneliness. It would be nice to have someone of my own to laugh with, play games with, and do stuff with. Of course, having regular sex would be nice too. I hooked up now and then but that sometimes got old.

  “A prank,” she repeated. “Is that really what you told him?”

  “What was I gonna tell him?”

  “The truth?” said Dylan.

  “Really? So, I should have told him I was pretending to be a caller so I could find a way to beat this guy? You think that makes me look like a better person?”

  “They’re both pretty bad,” Sadie said. “Not gonna lie.”

  “Thanks for that.”

  “What went wrong?”

  I glanced at her in surprise. “What do you mean?”

  Dylan answered instead. “Dude, your trash-talking is seriously lacking tonight. Something’s going on.”

  I had my pizza in one hand and the controller in the other. I set the pizza back on the cardboard box and leaned back with a sigh. “I don’t know. Chase on the phone talking to a customer is nothing like the Chase in the office. He was funny, charming, interesting…”

  “You’re crushing on him.” Sadie had a knowing look on her face.

  “No.” I shook my head, but she only smiled. “I’m only interested in how to beat him,” I said, maybe a bit too defensively, as I pretended to
focus on the game.

  “Dylan says he’s hot.”

  I lost all pretenses at that, turning to my friend in surprise. “Really?”

  “I did not,” Dylan sputtered, then turned to Sadie. “I said Max thinks he’s hot.”

  “Whatever. The way you described him sounded hot. What about it, Max? Is he hot or not?”

  There was no point in denying it. I didn’t think I could and sound credible. “Definitely hot,” I said. “But it’s like he’s two different people. Which one is the real Chase? The smooth guy or the ice princess?”

  “Is now the time to remind you that you were using a fake persona?”

  “Touché.”

  “Don’t you have a ‘phone voice’?”

  “But that’s the point. When I’m talking to a customer, that’s not the real me. I mean, not really. I don’t know those people on the phone. He seems more real with customers than with his co-workers. That doesn’t make sense.”

  “Maybe that’s his secret. He’s able to seem sincere with the customers.” Dylan scratched Toby’s head. When they’d first arrived, Toby barked at them like he’d never met them before, and now he was curled up in Dylan’s lap. Traitor.

  “Doesn’t mean it’s the real him.”

  “So what? You’re trying to beat him, not date him.”

  I was so done with this conversation. I wanted to understand Chase Corrigan. It didn’t mean I was interested in him. “Can we just play video games?”

  Dylan and Sadie exchanged looks. I ignored them, preferring to demolish them at Gears of War instead.

  ~~~

  “Cleaning up shit from Gonzo’s cage,” Carlos said. Gonzo was the gorilla at the local zoo. We were gathered around the conference room table, waiting for the team meeting to start.

  “Cutting the grass at the golf course with only a pair scissors.” Dylan raised his eyebrows in challenge. “What about you, Max?” he asked. “What would you rather be doing than sitting in this ‘hecking’ meeting?”