10. Chapter Nine
Chapter Nine
Marco is nowhere to be found when I arrive, and for that, I'm thankful. I'm in such a good mood today and I don't want him raining on my parade.
I put my belongings in my locker, heading to the kitchen appliance area. It's probably a stupid idea putting me there — he thinks he's making some misogynistic stance but in reality, he's putting me near heavy appliances and sharp knives.
As I start packing, I can't help but notice we're short staffed again. I see Marco conduct interviews all the time, but even in the desperation of the economic crisis, it's still not enough to make people want to work here. Maybe if he tried being nicer… or less sleazy.
My cell dings in my pocket and I reach in, fetching it from inside. I smile as I spot a text message from Jordan.
Jordan: I'm sitting in a meeting at the moment. Can't stop thinking about you.
Me: Well, you should try turning your phone off.
Jordan: That's no fun. I want to talk to you. I feel like we didn't get enough time to talk last night.
I snort at his reply, quickly typing a response.
Me: And whose fault is that?
Jordan: Yours… you looked way too good. Any man would be on his knees.
"Not all of them," I mutter to myself, feeling the burn. Despite how hopeful I am about this possible new adventure with Jordan, it still hurts about Jake. I wish I could be the type of person who moved on without closure, but I've never mastered that skill. I guess it's true you can be happy but still hurt at the same time. It's not that I didn't appreciate my new situation, but I still had so many unanswered questions which will probably never come to light.
And if I'm being honest, the way things were left by Jake still haunt me. I'll never know if it was me — if I said the wrong thing, did the wrong thing, or just… existed.
Rationally, I know it probably wasn't me. Even if we weren't compatible or he just simply lost feelings for me, I didn't deserve that. A normal person should be able to communicate that. In an ideal world, breakups should be a nice goodbye, a farewell to good times.
But still — I can't help but hold onto those insecurities, scared that history will repeat itself. And the last thing I want is to self-sabotage. It's what I do best sometimes.
"Get off your phone," a voice growls, making me jump.
I look up, spotting Marco lurking between the shelves. He's glaring at me, obviously still pissed about my backbone from yesterday. I slowly put my cell into my pocket, doing my best to keep my composure.
"Good morning, Marco," I tell him pleasantly. "What can I do for you?"
Marco steps into my section, arms folded. "I don't pay you to be on your phone. I pay you to work."
Clenching my teeth, I just nod. I can feel my good mood slipping, and I'll be damned if he's going to ruin my day after I had the most amazing night.
"Noted. It's gone now."
Marco grinds his jaw, obviously hoping for a fight. "Good. I've adjusted your KPIs for the day. Here," he says, thrusting a sheet of paper at me.
I take it gingerly, scanning the contents. My eyes widen at the unrealistic figures. It would take me at least two days to hit these targets — which is saying something considering I'm pretty fast with my orders.
"And this is for today?" I question.
He nods, fighting back a smirk. "And if you can't meet your targets, we will have to discuss performance. Alternatively, you'll have to just stay late until you finish."
"This isn't possible," I tell him, thrusting the paper back at him. "No one could do it."
"Well, you better try. We're going to be adjusting the pay rates based on the new KPIs. It will no longer be an hourly wage. Pay will be done by performance."
I cross my arms. "Marco, that's illegal."
"I don't think it is," he retorts. "If you have a problem with it, you can leave."
I take a moment to look around at all the unpacked orders, the words of Blaise and Jordan ringing through my head. I don't need this bullshit. I already suffer from a constant backache, and the mental stress it adds is not worth the few dollars I earn per hour.
"Fine," I snap.
Marco smirks, giving me a nod, thinking that I've finally given in to his bullshit demands. He goes to turn, ready to exit, when I grab the order form list.
"Here you go."
He looks at me, pausing in bewilderment as I shove the list into his chest. Caught off-guard, he stutters as he looks at me. "What are you doing?"
"I quit," I reply simply. "And since those orders are apparently so urgent, you should probably make a start on them."
"What?!" he bellows. "You can't just quit."
I smile sweetly. "Of course I can. That's the beauty of freedom. Go find someone else to put up with your bullshit, Marco Barfo. I'm done with it."
He's still lost for words, stuttering and spitting as I walk past him. I quickly make my way to the locker, making sure to collect all of my belongings before I take off out the front door. He tries to follow but I'm too fast for him, immediately heading for the road.
It's probably about an hour's walk home — but I don't mind. The rain has cleared and while the ground is still muddy, I have boots on. I reach into my pocket, pulling my cell out as I type a reply back to Jordan as I walk a brisk pace along the roadside.
Me: Well I did it.
I'm surprised to see the bubbles appear so quickly, like he was waiting for me to reply.
Jordan: Brought me to my knees? Yes I know. I remember quite fondly.
Laughing, I send back another reply, smiling like an idiot.
Me: I just quit my job. I'm going to do it. I'll take Blaise up on his offer.
I wait for a reply but nothing comes. Feeling a little disheartened, I go to slip my cell back into my pocket when suddenly, it starts to ring.
Glancing at the screen, I grin at Jordan's name, blushing before I hit the accept button.
"Hello?"
"I'm so fucking proud of you," he murmurs down the phone line.
I'm glad no one except passing cars can see me. I'm smiling so brightly that I could probably dry up the excess water from the storm.
"He wanted to change my pay and KPIs. Just being a real jerk as usual. So, I told him to do it himself," I exclaim proudly.
"That's my girl," Jordan says, and I quite literally stumble over a rock. I've stopped paying attention to my surroundings, too infatuated by his voice.
I clear my throat, ignoring the odd looks from people passing by. "Thanks for giving me the confidence to do it. It really means a lot."
"You deserve better," he says fondly. "Life's too short to be unhappy, you know?"
"Yeah," I agree. "I see that now."
Jordan mutters something to someone in the background before his voice comes back. "Anyway, listen babe. I have to head to another meeting but I'm so proud of you. What's your plans for tomorrow night? I have a thing with my buddies this evening, but I'd love to celebrate with you tomorrow."
"I'm a free woman," I tell him, laughing. "So, I'm at your mercy."
"Hmm," he hums. "I hope you are. Well, let's lock some plans into place. I'll text you later, but for now are you okay?"
I nod, even though he can't see it. "I'm just walking home but I'm fine," I confirm. "Go and enjoy your meeting. It was great to hear your voice though."
"You'll be hearing more of it later," he promises, saying goodbye before ending the call.
When I finally arrive back home nearly an hour later, I'm greeted with a look of surprise from Blaise and Nathan. They're sitting in the living room, watching a movie.
"You're home," Blaise points out, a look of confusion on his face. Slowly, it turns to realization, and his face breaks out in a grin. "You didn't?"
"I did," I tell him sheepishly with a smile.
He smacks his hands together excitedly, giving me a grin. "About time."
Nathan looks between us, confusion in his blue eyes. "Did what?"
"I quit my job," I tell him, watching as his confusion strengths.
"What? So, now you have no job?"
My gaze flickers back to Blaise, wondering how to steer the conversation. Blaise puts a hand on Nathan's leg, giving it a squeeze.
"Her boss is a real asshole. I've asked her to help me out. The admin work is piling up, so hopefully this means I'll have a new staff member on board…" he looks at me quizzically.
I nod, giving him a smile. "If you'll have me still."
Nathan purses his lips, turning to Blaise. "Is that a good idea?" he asks, lowering his voice even though he knows I can still hear him. "Working together with a roommate?"
I've never known someone with as much talent as Nathan. He makes it sound like a dirty word — as if all of Blaise's regrets will come to life if we go through with this plan.
"Aw, you worry too much," Blaise says, giving his hand a squeeze. "It will free me up more for you and I'll be able to take on more clients. I hate turning people away and it's nearly at that stage."
"Whatever," Nathan mutters indifferently.
Wow — way to kill the mood, Nathan. Blaise gives me a sympathetic smile, his eyes telling me not to worry about it. I give him a little nod, heading to my bedroom. At this moment, the best thing I can do is give them space. I know it's Blaise's business, but as a couple, it's probably a discussion they need to have since it will affect their relationship.
I mean, I hope it doesn't affect it negatively. It sounds like it would be a positive thing all around, but Nathan just seems to not like me no matter what I do. I only have to exist and he's on my tail about something.
Even from the bedroom, I can hear him muttering to Blaise, complaining about how logistically, Blaise will be paying for everything — even if it's not directly.
Blaise argues back that it's a wage — a business expense — and how I then spend the money is irrelevant. The movie doesn't turn back on and I sit awkwardly in my room, putting my headphones on to give them privacy.
Jordan and I text a few more times throughout the day. He gives me little updates about his work before hinting at what he'd like to do to me tomorrow night.
I keep reminding myself that everything happens for a reason — and this is my time to shine. Despite the Marco and Nathans of the world.