Ghosted

[u/Advanced-Pumpkin-917]

Pulling into the lot, Maya parked next to Carl’s Civic. She stared at it for a moment before killing her engine.

“You can do this,” she sighed, grabbing her badge in her dash for the entrance. 

The fluorescent lights at OmniCenter’s call center hummed a flat dead note. Another eight hours of scripted smiles and verbal abuse for minimum wage and decent 401k. Maya skipped to her cubicle, her jingling key rings announcing her tardiness.

Slumping into position, she logged into her phone with seconds to spare.

"Maya. Just the agent I was hoping to see,” her boss cheered, “Your average handle time last shift was a thing of beauty. Absolutely pristine."

"Oh. Thanks, Carl," she nodded, catching her breath.

"Don't 'thank' me. It's just data. And data doesn't lie. Keep this up, and we'll be talking team lead sooner than you think. Now, let's hit those queues. I'm expecting great things tonight," Carl smiled, his knuckles bleaching on the cubicle frame.

“Anything else?” Maya mumbled.

“Nope. That’s it,” he snapped, tapping his fingers on the walls edge as he left.

Maya  donned the vice of  a headset, opening the lines for calls. She fielded through complaints and dead air.

“Thank you for calling OmniCard, this is Maya, how can I help you?”

“My card’s being declined for a transaction. I’m hoping you can be my hero tonight,” Eric uttered. 

“I’ll certainly try. Can I get your card number?” Maya chirped through a professional smile. 

As she typed, Eric continued, “It’s just for a pizza. Long night, you know? You sound like you use a slice from Papa Rizzo’s.”

“Okay, Mr. Eric, I see the issue. The fraud algorithm flagged it. I can authorize it right now.”

“Eric, please. Mr. Eric was my father,” he chuckled, “And thank you. You are a gem. It’s nice to talk to someone who doesn’t just read from a script.”

“Just doing my job. Enjoy your pizza.”

“Will do, Maya. Have a good night.”

“You too.”

Ending the call, she punched out of her phone to grab a coffee. From his cubicle Carl glanced at her, tapping a pen against a spreadsheet. She looked away, her smile fading.

“Hey girl,” Ava chirped, “You get the workforce management talk from Carl yet?”

“No.” Maya fixed her coffee. “What is it?”

“The usual. ‘My girlfriend dumped me, so I am gonna take it out on the call reps,’” Ava joked in her best Carl impression.

“We’re family. The company values your time,” Maya snorted.

“Maybe, one of us should date him,” Ava snickered, “Take one for the team.”

“He’s all yours girl,” Maya chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” Carl stood in the doorway.

“Just girl talk,” Maya muttered into her coffee.

“Well we need coverage on the phones,” Carl tapped the doorframe, “Can’t have everyone on break at the same time.”

“Sorry,” Maya acquiesced, squeezing past him.

As she logged back in, the next call chimed in. 

“OmniCard, this is Maya.”

“Maya? It’s Eric. We spoke earlier? Papa Rizzo’s?”

“Yes, Eric. Is there another issue?” Her brow furrowed. 

“I just wanted to… review my recent transactions,.” he stammered.

“Of course.” She pulled up his account. “Can you verify your last few transactions? I can…”

“Was the coffee shop charge for $6.50?” he interrupted.

“Yes.”

“Ah, right. The americano,” he sighed, “Sorry, it’s just… you have a very calming voice. It’s been a rough week. It’s nice to talk to a real person.”

“Sir, I’m happy to help with your account, but…”

“It’s Eric. Please. And I know, I know, it’s unprofessional. But don’t you ever get lonely here? Anyways, how's your coffee?”

Carl surveyed the call center, a frown on his face. Maya raised her eyebrows tilting her head towards the phone. 

“Sir, if there are no issues with your transactions, I need to make my line available for other clients.”

“Right. Of course. Sorry for taking up your valuable time, Maya.” 

The line went dead as Carl reached her cubicle.

“A caller just called back personally. Kinda creeped me out.”

“Maybe he’s just friendly?”

"It made me uncomfortable."

"Fine... let's pull him up,” Carl groaned, leaning over her keyboard. “Ah. Yes. His average handle time is twelve minutes. Do you know what that does for our occupancy rates? He's a goldmine."

"He asked if I get lonely."

"Your after-call work on that one was almost three minutes." Carl’s smile faded as he propped himself on her cubicle wall. "Look, Maya. You have a gift for engagement. But you need to control the call flow, not let it control you. This sounds less like harassment and more like an agent who lost grip on a conversation and is now trying to CYA. Am I wrong?"

"I know what I heard."

"What I hear is a dip in efficiency. Leadership is breathing down my neck about shrinkage, and now my top agent wants to file a report that will tie us up in meetings. Be professional. Manage the call. Now, please, log back into your phone. We have a service level to maintain."

Maya’s eyes followed Carl as he moseyed back to his desk. Shrugging, she opened the line taking the next call.

“Maya…” a voice whispered.

“Sir,” she barked, “this is a professional line. Do you have a valid account inquiry?”

The caller disconnected the call. Maya winced and took the next call. Her phone rang, going dead as she answered.

Ring. Dead.

Rising up in her seat, she scanned the floor. The fluorescent light’s drone intermingling with Ava’s call script. Carl studied his monitor, rapping his pen against the spreadsheet. His gaze broke from the screen in her direction. Maya shrunk behind the quarter wall of her cubicle. 

Ring. Dead. 

Ring. Dead.

A ping from Carl emerged on her screen, Late shift metrics are in. We’re overstaffed. Maya, you’re at the bottom. I need you to clock out.

Maya typed, Please. The calls... he's still out there. I can't. She held the backspace key, deleting her plea. She auxed out of the call queue, striding over to Carl’s station to ask to stay.

"Maya, Maya, Maya. After all we've discussed? You’re overreacting. The real-time adherence report says we're over headcount, and my hands are tied," he sighed, dropping his pen on the spreadsheet.

"Just let me stay until shift change. I'll do busywork. For old time’s sake?"

"You know... it's against policy. But for you? Fine. I'll walk you out. I forgot my charger in my car anyways.”

"Thanks, Carl. You’re a lifesaver," she breathed, clutching her bag.

“Whatever,” he smirked.

The humidity smothered the dark parking lot as the pair stepped outside. Maya hugged her hoodie, her badge clacking against her purse as she adjusted the strap.

“See?” he huffed, “Not so bad.”

“Thanks again for walking out with me.”

“Of course,” he nodded. “Old time’s sake, right?”

They walked in silence. The buzz of the building’s rooftop units followed them across the concrete. Her footsteps echoed sharper than his, like she was moving faster without meaning to.

“Eric, is it?” Carl asked.

She glanced at him. “Yeah.”

“Creeps like that never learn how to take a hint.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “You know, you have a really empathetic phone voice. That’s why they latch on.”

They passed the row of handicapped spots. Maya fumbled for her keys.

“You didn’t used to be this quiet with me,” Carl pressed.

“That was different.”

“How so?”

She found her keys and held the key fob between her fingers like a blade. 

“It was a fun mistake, but I need this job more.”

“Sure.” Carl laughed, “I just keep thinking about how you ended it. One minute we’re texting after shift, then you ghosted.”

“Nothing, personal,” she muttered.

“Oh, I think it was,” he chuckled, “I get it. The office rumors, the performance favoritism… I’m your dirty secret.”

Stopping at her car, her fingers hovered above the door handle. Carl leaned back against the Civic, crossing his arms.

“You know,” he grumbled, “I never really minded being a secret at first. But it does make me wonder…”

Maya opened the door, tossing her purse on the passenger seat.

“Wonder, wha…”

Snatching the back of her head, Carl smashed her face into the doorframe. Maya’s nose cracked as she collapsed over the center consul. 

“Why you women are so entitled,” he rasped, “What gives you the right?”

Committed he pummeled her face against the gearshift. Her legs kicked. Crimson pooled in the cupholders. The car rocked as he spewed curses, emptying his rage on Maya. 

“Women,” Carl huffed, ”Figures. Always making messes for men to clean up.”

The keys slipped from her fingers, clattering against the pavement. Carl reached in his pocket, popping his trunk with his fob. With a grunt, he heaved Maya’s body into his arms. Dropping her body in the empty compartment, he paused.

“There’s only one way to keep a secret,” he whispered.

Carl returned her car. Gathering her purse. Retrieved the keys from the concrete. Slamming them all shut in the trunk like an old file. The Civic's beeps echoed in the twilight. He smoothed his shirt, turning back towards OmniCard.

“Nobody ghosts me.”