I’d reacted to him in a way I never had with anyone else, his physical presence so intense that it seemed to reach inside me and touch my soul, making my whole body quiver and sing.
I didn’t understand it because there was something deeply intimidating about him. It wasn’t just his size or the way he glared. He felt...dangerous. Not in the way some guys are dangerous, all loud and angry and spoiling for a fight, a firework that can go off at any time. Cal was more like a gun you know is loaded or a knife you know is razor-sharp. He just stood there, calm and quiet. But something in his eyes hinted that he could take on an army, if he needed to.
I should have been scared, but I wasn’t. Because when he’d looked at me, the hardness in his eyes had just melted away. He might be big, might even be dangerous...but it didn’t feel as if he’d ever hurt me, or anyone who didn’t deserve it. And when I told him about the call center and his eyes had flared with anger… at that moment, I’d felt protected in a way I never had before. I wished he was there now. I imagined pressing my cheek against soft plaid and warm, hard muscle, sliding my arms around him and snuggling close—
My computer beeped and I reluctantly opened my eyes. A message edged in red had popped up on my screen: Bob Tanner, the head of the call center, wanted to see me. Shit!
His office was on the opposite side of the main floor, a space the size of a football field. They’d packed almost a thousand of us into the room in long rows of desks, our elbows almost touching as we worked our computers. Only a few heads lifted as I passed. They make it deliberately difficult to make friends: we’re assigned a different desk each day, to discourage wasting time on fraternizing.
I knocked and waited, my heart thumping. I’d never been called to Tanner’s office before. What had I done? I’d worked my ass off, I’d hit every quota, I’d only ever been late from lunch once and that was because Angela had gotten her period a day early and I’d run out to get her tampons—
Mr. Tanner called me in. He was slumped in an office chair and on the computer screen in front of him were hundreds of tiny windows. As I got closer, I saw that each one was live video of a call center operator. A waist-up image shot from the cameras in our monitors: I’d noticed the little black pinholes but I’d never really thought about the fact we were being filmed. Why did they even need video: to make sure we weren’t eating at our desks?
Mr. Tanner picked up a pen from his desk and started tapping it against his other hand. His thinning brown hair was sticking to his forehead with sweat, despite the air conditioning. “I’m sorry,” he said. “But I’ve got to move you.”
“Move me?”
“To San Francisco.”
It took a second for that to sink in. “What? Why?! Did I do something wrong?”
He shook his head and shrugged as if it was no big deal. “Excess capacity here. Not enough in San Fran. You already know the ropes, you can slot right in.”
I stared at him, incredulous. “But….” I didn’t know where to start. But I don’t want to work in San Francisco. But I don’t know anyone there. But you can’t just move me like I’m cattle.
“Unfortunately, I can’t justify your position here,” he told me. “You can have the job in San Fran, otherwise today is your last shift.”
My jaw dropped. But then, before I could plead with him, he hit me with the sweetener. “The company’s willing to pay you five thousand dollars relocation costs. We’ll even drive you down to San Fran and pay for a hotel for the first week.”
That stopped me dead. If I said no, I was out of work. I was only just making ends meet as it was. My pay from the call center only just covered the interest on my med school debts, with just enough left for my room in the shared apartment and groceries. If I said yes, that five thousand dollars would really help to get my head back above water.
My boss kept tapping the pen, faster, now. I noticed he was sweating more, his forehead glistening. “What’s it going to be, Bethany?”
It should have been a hard decision but it really wasn’t. I couldn’t afford to lose my job and I couldn’t turn down the money. And of course, he knew that.
I nodded.
* * *
Three hours later, I was in the back of a black Mercedes, heading out of the city. My possessions were in a small suitcase and a box in the trunk. Because I’d left in the middle of a shift, there’d been no time to say goodbye: a quick hug from Angela and Rachel between calls. A scribbled note to the women I shared the apartment with, telling them not to worry and that I had a new job. The five thousand dollars, less what I’d left to cover the last few weeks of rent, was in a thick brown envelope in my purse.