hands, closing her eyes and taking a few long breaths.
"Good morning, Katrina."
The VP’s voice made her teeth grind.
She looked up. "Morning, Bill." He was funny that way; insisted on calling everyone else by their full first name, but went by Bill.
"Listen, I’ve got some complaints coming in about the wait time on the phones in the call center."
"I know," Kat said. "I’ve got three new people that are still in training, and I’m missing two of my more experienced reps until Tracy’s back off maternity leave and Jillian is over the flu."
He nodded, pursing his lips. "Well, the fact is, I’ve got customers that need problems addressed and orders processed." He gestured over his shoulder at the call center on the other side of the wall. "They can’t be taking extra time on calls."
"Bill, I’m sorry, I know. We’re just very short-staffed at the moment. Once the new girls are up to speed in a week or so, we’ll be better off, but it’s going to be rough for a bit. We’re doing the best we can." Which you would know if you ever spent a day in the trenches with them .
"Send a memo to all of them," he said. "And copy me on it. Remind them that calls need to be taken quickly and efficiently."
Did you not hear a word I just said ? She opened her mouth, but thought better of it. Don’t argue with him. Not worth it . "Okay," she said. "I’ll send an e-mail around."
"Good." He smiled. "Thanks, Katrina."
Kat glared at the vacant doorway, daring it to become occupied again.
The phone rang.
"Son of a bitch," she muttered. As she took the call, she opened the desk drawer where she kept her purse and dug out her cell phone. Half-listening to the caller on the other end—one of the company’s field representatives that seemed more interested in bitching to her than asking for a solution—she texted Chris.
Feel like hitting something tonight ?
A few minutes later, as the field rep continued whining in her ear, her phone lit up with a new message.
Another five minutes of this shit , his message said. And I’ll be hitting the bottle .
She laughed. I was thinking along the lines of a few baseballs .
There was no immediate reply, but she didn’t worry. Knowing Chris, he was running between meetings. The day was still young, he’d reply when he had time.
The day was still young indeed, with plenty of time for more bullshit. After two hours of customers, calls, and catastrophes, she’d forgotten all about their brief conversation. It was only when another conversation with the accounting manager had her ready to punch something that she remembered.
She flipped her phone open. His message read: I have to put in some overtime tonight, but I can meet you at the cages around seven .
She quickly sent back, I’ll be there , hitting 'send' just
before Bill came in with yet another crisis that demanded her immediate attention.
~ * ~
"I’m meeting someone here," Chris told the kid behind the counter at the batting cages. "She should be—"
"Cage four."
"Thanks."
On his way past the other cages, he could tell what kind of day Kat had had. Judging by the violent crack of her bat making contact with the ball and the way the chain link fence bowed each time a ball hit, it must have been brutal.
"Bad day?" he said.
"One of the best," she said through clenched teeth. She swung and hit another ball.
"That bad, huh?"
"That bad."
He stepped into the shielded box at one end of the cage, dropping his bat and
"Good morning, Katrina."
The VP’s voice made her teeth grind.
She looked up. "Morning, Bill." He was funny that way; insisted on calling everyone else by their full first name, but went by Bill.
"Listen, I’ve got some complaints coming in about the wait time on the phones in the call center."
"I know," Kat said. "I’ve got three new people that are still in training, and I’m missing two of my more experienced reps until Tracy’s back off maternity leave and Jillian is over the flu."
He nodded, pursing his lips. "Well, the fact is, I’ve got customers that need problems addressed and orders processed." He gestured over his shoulder at the call center on the other side of the wall. "They can’t be taking extra time on calls."
"Bill, I’m sorry, I know. We’re just very short-staffed at the moment. Once the new girls are up to speed in a week or so, we’ll be better off, but it’s going to be rough for a bit. We’re doing the best we can." Which you would know if you ever spent a day in the trenches with them .
"Send a memo to all of them," he said. "And copy me on it. Remind them that calls need to be taken quickly and efficiently."
Did you not hear a word I just said ? She opened her mouth, but thought better of it. Don’t argue with him. Not worth it . "Okay," she said. "I’ll send an e-mail around."
"Good." He smiled. "Thanks, Katrina."
Kat glared at the vacant doorway, daring it to become occupied again.
The phone rang.
"Son of a bitch," she muttered. As she took the call, she opened the desk drawer where she kept her purse and dug out her cell phone. Half-listening to the caller on the other end—one of the company’s field representatives that seemed more interested in bitching to her than asking for a solution—she texted Chris.
Feel like hitting something tonight ?
A few minutes later, as the field rep continued whining in her ear, her phone lit up with a new message.
Another five minutes of this shit , his message said. And I’ll be hitting the bottle .
She laughed. I was thinking along the lines of a few baseballs .
There was no immediate reply, but she didn’t worry. Knowing Chris, he was running between meetings. The day was still young, he’d reply when he had time.
The day was still young indeed, with plenty of time for more bullshit. After two hours of customers, calls, and catastrophes, she’d forgotten all about their brief conversation. It was only when another conversation with the accounting manager had her ready to punch something that she remembered.
She flipped her phone open. His message read: I have to put in some overtime tonight, but I can meet you at the cages around seven .
She quickly sent back, I’ll be there , hitting 'send' just
before Bill came in with yet another crisis that demanded her immediate attention.
~ * ~
"I’m meeting someone here," Chris told the kid behind the counter at the batting cages. "She should be—"
"Cage four."
"Thanks."
On his way past the other cages, he could tell what kind of day Kat had had. Judging by the violent crack of her bat making contact with the ball and the way the chain link fence bowed each time a ball hit, it must have been brutal.
"Bad day?" he said.
"One of the best," she said through clenched teeth. She swung and hit another ball.
"That bad, huh?"
"That bad."
He stepped into the shielded box at one end of the cage, dropping his bat and
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