The start
Call center jobs aren’t for the faint of heart. One woman told me her dog’s shit was worth more than me—all because she forgot the secondary password on her account. Now, she has to go into her local branch with an ID to reset it.
Secondary passwords are optional for extra security, not required, and I couldn’t reset it even if I wanted to. But, of course, that didn’t matter to her. She just wanted someone to blame. It’s wild how easily some people dehumanize you over the smallest inconvenience. To them, I’m not a person—I’m just a voice on the other end of the line.
Then, there are moments that remind me why I keep doing this job. Like the woman who called, panicked because she couldn’t access her bank statement. It was a simple fix—I emailed it to her in seconds. Her relief was instant. “You’re a goddess,” she told me. I laughed, but her gratitude stayed with me long after the call ended.
That kind of appreciation? It makes up for so many of the awful moments. You encounter more good than bad in this job, but the bad… whew. It can get really bad. The kind of bad that makes you question humanity. But then, there’s the good—the moments that remind you kindness still exists, even in the most unexpected places.
In five minutes, I’ll be on a two-week mental break. Work calls it a vacation, but I’m not going anywhere. I just want to sleep—sleep in, sleep late, sleep without an alarm dragging me into the real world. No more waking up three hours before my shift just to fight through traffic.
No more rushing to get my precious Lottie’s coffee because I’m not sacrificing it. I need my Lottie’s in the morning. I don’t even want to know what would happen without it—I’ve never tried, and I never will. I have bills to pay, and that means showing up to work in a decent mood. PTO is hard to come by these days. I like to save mine up and cash it all in at once. It feels like a reward. And after the calls I’ve handled? I deserve it.
“Au revoir, my loves! I’ll be out until February 28th. Please hesitate to contact me about work—but don’t hesitate when it comes to anything else, lol.” I type into the team group chat before signing out of my computer.If anyone in the building needs something, they can ask around and figure it out. That’s not my problem for the next two weeks. I grabbed my things and made my exit.
A few minutes after I made it to my car, Carmen crept out, and Bianca wasn’t too far behind. After three years, we finally finessed getting the same days off.
The key? Submit our requests at different times—and during report week. That way, they’re too busy to notice that the three girls who aren’t allowed on the same team, just happened to request the same days off.
We can be a lively bunch, but isn’t that expected of trios. Thankfully, no one caught on until this morning. Oh well—too late now. Better luck next time.
“Pull off before they come out and ask us to do something.” Carmen hops into the front seat, and Bianca slides into the back, nodding in agreement.
“They can ask all they want—I’m off the clock.” I laugh, buckling my seatbelt before starting the car. “Aye, seatbelts! Click it or ticket.”
I wait for the seatbelt snitch to shut up, then pull off.
“I was going to put it on, Ms. Speed Racer.” Carmen rolls her eyes, reaching into her purse and pulling out a bag of donut holes.
“You had snacks all day, and you’re just now saying something?” Bianca lunges forward, trying to snatch the bag from Carmen’s hands.
“Rude! Gimme one!” I yell over their little scuffle, holding out my right hand.
Carmen giggles, finally opening the bag and sharing. “They’re made with love… and green butter.”
Oh my. I really hope we don’t end up in jail tonight. We’re heading to a themed bar stroll—a night where a bunch of strangers dress up and hop from bar to bar. There are twelve stops on this route, and Carmen made special treats. I doubt we make it past four.
“Thank you,” I say before tossing a donut hole into my mouth. “I ordered us some wings from Big Daddies to snack on while we get ready for the bar hop.”.
“If this is love…” Carmen sings, and we burst into laughter.
“It’s laziness, because I’m not cooking jack.” I joke, knowing this will start some mess in 5…4…3…2…
“Oh, shut up. You love us, we love you.” Bianca reaches up and mushes my head.
“Right… don’t piss me off.” Carmen leans over, pinching my arm.
“I didn’t know love was this aggressive… sheesh.” I laugh, pulling up in front of Big Daddies, leaving them to continue their bickering while I grab the food.
Inside, it’s packed for this hour—looks like everyone had the same idea. I type my name on the pickup screen, and less than a minute later, it’s called. The benefits of ordering ahead.
Focused on getting back to my car, I walk straight into a solid, warm chest. “Oh! I’m so—” I start, but when I look up, the apology catches in my throat.
Damn.
He’s tall, broad-shouldered, and smelling like expensive cologne and bad decisions. Dark eyes flick over me, slow and deliberate, his lips curving into a smirk like he already knows he’s trouble.
“You can run into me any day, Princess.” His voice is deep—too deep. The kind that makes your knees forget their job.
“That so?” I raise an eyebrow, tilting my head as I step back, but his gaze doesn’t waver.
“Mhm.” He leans in just slightly, dropping his voice like he’s sharing a secret. “I wouldn’t mind making it a habit.”
My heart does an annoying little flip, but I play it cool, shifting the takeout bag in my hands. “Tempting offer. But I don’t make a habit of crashing into strangers.”
“Strangers, huh?” He chuckles, stepping aside but keeping his eyes locked on me. “Guess we’ll have to fix that.”
With one last lingering glance, he holds the door open, and I slip past, the heat of his gaze still on me.
Oh. This is going to be a problem.
“Well, my name’s Micha, not Princess,” I say, blushing as I walk past him. I know he’s watching me—I can feel it.
“I don’t know. That sounds a lot like ‘Princess’ to me.” His voice follows, teasing and smooth.
I shake my head, smirking. “Enjoy your evening.” I wave with my free hand just as Carmen reaches over to push the door open for me.
“Kaison,” he calls out, giving a casual wave.
I pass the bag to Bianca in the backseat, buckle up, before heading to my apartment. I am starving. I was hungry before—but now? Now I could eat everything. It must be the donut hole I had.
“That was Kaison Mannor.” Carmen points dramatically, like he’s still standing there.
“I know.” I laugh, shaking my head. “His cousin owns The Tranquility Clubhouse—the one I go to for their craft studios. I’ve seen him in passing, but I hear about him all the time. He’s got the ladies kool whipped.” I laugh even harder at my own dad joke.
“Turn back around. You need that in your life. Hell, we all need something like that in our lives.” Bianca laughs, tapping my shoulder.
“No, I don’t. I barely have time to breathe between our on-paper job, our side hustle, and selling my art.” I glance at her in the rearview mirror, giving her a knowing look.
Thankfully, I only live a few blocks from the restaurant, so our food was still hot—and perfect in every way.
Since I only have two showers, Carmen took the guest bathroom first while Bianca and I fed our faces. Her lunch had been later than ours, so she insisted we eat first.Once we were all full, showered, and officially in go mode, we took a few shots of tequila, cranked up the music, and got dressed.
Since it’s Royal Night, of course, we decided to go as queens. This tickles me now more than ever, considering Kaison called me Princess.
Oh gawd. I’m thinking about him.
“Shot time!” I yell toward the back, where the girls are finishing up their makeup.
Carmen struts out first, Bianca right behind her, both of them laughing.
“Now that I think about it, we’re giving off evil queen energy.” Carmen smirks, striking a dramatic pose.
“Duh. That was the whole point.” I hand them their shots, grinning. “I’m the Queen of War, you’re the Ice Queen, and Bianca is the Queen of Darkness.” We clink our glasses together, ready to own the night. After popping a few more edibles, we head out, excitement buzzing between us.
The first bar is just down the block—less than five minutes away—but by the time we get there, it’s already wall-to-wall packed. Costumes everywhere. Music blasting. The energy is chaos in the best way. This is about to be one of those nights—the kind we won’t remember but will definitely feel in the morning. And I am so here for it.
Carmen leads the charge, pushing through the crowd. Some people are fully in character, bowing or stepping aside like we’re actual royalty. At the bar, Bianca orders us three Dirty Ladies—a mix of tequila, pineapple juice, and peach Moscato.
The name fits the drink to a T. I meant to take a sip. Really, I did. Instead, I down half the glass in one go. Warmth spreads through me, slow and delicious. My body hums, my skin feels electric, and suddenly, I feel sexy as fuck.
Thirty minutes in, the travel bell rings, signaling it’s time to move to the next bar. We head over with the crowd and Carmen pulls out a blunt . Instead of going inside we step onto the patio, taking a moment to chill and enjoy it.
That’s when I see it. A black truck rolls by slowly, then stops and hits reverse. The back door swings open, and out steps Kaison.
He moves toward us with that easy confidence, dark eyes locked onto mine. “Princess, Princess, Princess.”That smirk. That slow, deliberate once-over.
I feel it everywhere.
“You stalking me?” I arch a brow, pretending not to be flattered.
“You left me no choice. No one would give me your number.” Kaison smirks. “That was a first for me. What do you do around here?” He steps closer—too close—tempting me with that damn intoxicating scent.
“Nothing. I’m just a nice lady.” I shrug, taking a slow pull from the blunt. Bianca and Carmen burst into laughter.
“Nice lady?” Bianca wheezes. “Girl, please.”
“I mean… she can be nice when she wants to.” Carmen chimes in, attempting to back me up.
“Which is not often. Shit. That slipped out.” I cover my mouth, embarrassed
Damn it, Micha.
Bianca loses it, laughing so hard she starts coughing.
Kaison watches the exchange, amused but still curious. “Well, I’m sure you’re a nice lady, but people don’t say no to me. You’re protected—why?”
I flash him a big grin. “Plot twist—my Pawpaw is Big Daddie.”
His expression shifts— to surprise, with a flicker of respect—but mostly, he just looks intrigued.
Kaison exhales sharply, shaking his head like this all makes perfect sense now. “So this is why you were in such a rush to get away from me.”
I tilt my head. “I didn’t rush. Your truck is just holding up traffic.” I point behind him where a line of impatient cars is honking.
He glances back, then returns his gaze to me, that smirk still playing on his lips. “Touché, Princess.”
“Micha. My-ca.” I sound it out for him slowly.
Kaison smirks. “You’re Princess to me. No matter how many times you tell me your name.”
Smooth. Too smooth
He hands me his phone. I hesitate—just for a second—before taking it and adding my number. I pass it back. “Enjoy your night.” I nod toward the traffic, reminding him again that he’s holding people up. Some cars have managed to go around, but others are still stuck right behind him.
He takes his time walking back to the truck, but the second he shuts the door, my phone vibrates. “Let the magic begin.”
I smirk. “I don’t buy dreams. I sell them.” I text back, adding a winking emoji for spice.
His reply is instant. “I’m going to love it here.”
I send back a string of laughing emojis. This night is everything I knew it would be. We head back inside, grab a few more drinks, and hit the dance floor. Time slips away in a blur of bass, laughter, and hands in the air.
By the time the bell rings again, signaling it’s time to move on, we realize we’ve been outside way longer than expected. But we can still count this as a win. Two bars down, ten to go—maybe.
The third bar is way farther than we thought. Suddenly, the hype starts wearing off. Not in a this is boring way, but more like there is absolutely no way in hell we’re walking that far. Liquored up or not, we definitely didn’t think this part through.
Instead of pushing through, we make a collective decision—fuck it. While the rest of the crowd stumbles off to the next spot, we double back to the first bar. A perfect plan. Sobering up just enough to get drunk all over again.
Bianca gets a call from the man who’s not her man but is her man. Their vibe is intoxicating—he’s never met a woman like her, and she’s never met a man who can actually stand up to her. Not that she’s a bully or anything, but Bianca is self-sufficient as hell—we all are.
Most of the men she dates pretend to be fine with how strong-minded she is, but deep down, they’re hiding their insecurities. Not him. He’s vocal, confident, and radiates that protector-provider energy. She’s still working on the whole sharing power thing, but he’s patient. Real patient. So, we gave her the go-ahead, and he pulled up in five minutes.
“Damn, were you parked in the alley?” we ask when he pulls up. His answer is no, but his face says maybe.
Carmen got us some more drinks and we continued on with the night. At some point, we start recording ourselves talking shit about Bianca ditching us, posting it all in our group chat so she can enjoy the roast in the morning. We don’t do the fake thing. We talk about you to you. It’s only fair.
