When a one-night stand takes an unexpected detour, 21-year-old Zayla Ingrid is left pregnant by a man who she barely knows. After news starts to swirl about the Romanian mafia on the prowl in California, Zayla discovers her child's father is the lea...
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The only audible sounds in the customer service office were pounding computer keys and the voices of my coworkers talking to customers over the phone. Life in the Fenty Beauty Call Center was never eventful, but it was something to do alongside my studies at California University in Los Angeles.
"Hello, how may I assist you today?" I answered the next call.
"Hello, my order still hasn't arrived yet, and I was wondering if you could tell me where it is?" the woman on the other end answered back.
I pulled up the search portal, prepared to search for her order number.
I asked, "Do you have your order number?"
"Why would I need that?"
"Ma'am-" I began, knowing how this call was going to unfold. Either I was going to pretend to put her on hold and hang up on her, or she was going to curse me out and I was going to be forced to bite my tongue.
"Miss."
I had loans and car note to pay off. I could not lose my job to take my frustrations out on a rude ass customer.
''Remember Zayla the customer is always right...' I thought.
'Even when they deserve to have the shit slapped out of them,' the thought finished.
I held back a chuckle after thinking of Leonardo's slogan. Leonardo was one of my childhood best friend in Oakland and moved to Los Angeles after college. He runs his father's weaponry company, and he is responsible for the most advanced military weaponry in the country.
I missed him, and I would have to remember to call him.
"Miss, how am I supposed to find your order without an order number?" I answered her, hoping her common sense would kick in.
"Can't you search my name?" she asked.
"Miss, there are probably a million people in our servers with your name, and it wouldn't be right to look through all of their business—" I tried explaining to her.
"Ugh, you are no help to me at all!"
The line suddenly went dead.
"I know this bitch did not just hang up–"
I sighed, took off my receiver, and groaned.
The rolling of wheels and a bump next to me took me out of my thoughts as the person said, "Girl, please tell me they testing your patience too?"
I glanced over to Shay, one of my best friends. Shay and I have been close friends since high school and going to the same college brought us closer. She was there for me in Leonardo's absence, which made high school go by a little easier. While I was studying Business and Marketing with a minor in Italian Studies, Shay was studying Anthropology with a minor in French Studies.
