Last Olive Bistro ✓

Chapter 23: Voicemail

By the end of the next day, my ankle felt well enough to go to the electronics store and have my new phone set up. Jacob picked me up, quite literally nearly carrying me down the apartment steps, and drove me over there.

The Bentley seats were the most comfortable thing I'd sat in during my temporary down time, not to say our one-year old couch wasn't. It was so long since I'd been dormant for an extended period that my backside ached, but those seats were like stale marshmallows, in a good way—firm yet still cushiony.

At the store, an employee was eager to help us the moment we walked in.

"Hey there! What brings you guys in today?" he greeted, then noticed my crutches. "Ouch, I'm sorry about your foot. What happened?"

With Jacob's help, I plopped down on one of the plush chairs in the waiting area. "I took an old lady tumble down some subway steps."

Jacob chuckled only because he knew my humor meant that the injury was nothing to worry about anymore. It never was, really. The employee laughed a little too.

"That really sucks. What can I do for you?"

I took the new phone out of the same white bag and handed it over, along with the cracked one. "I broke the old one in the fall, but have a new one. I just need everything transferred."

"No problem!" he said. He vaguely examined the new phone. "This model doesn't release until next week. Where'd you get it?"

I glanced at Jacob who then stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I know some people", he said, brushing it off.

"Right on," the employee replied with a snicker. "Give me a few minutes and I'll have you up and running." He disappeared behind the counter and got to work. Jacob took a seat next to me.

"How did you get a phone that's not out yet?" I asked.

He smirked and pretended like he didn't want to make eye contact. "I know a lot of people," he repeated. "Not just those in the restaurant business either."

The answer satisfied me enough; I guess it made sense due to his wealthy lifestyle, but the reality of power he had never fully hit my conscience. I was used to hearing of celebrities getting the best of everything, such as brand new phones before they were released to the general public, but now I knew the same went for non-celebrities who also had a great deal of money.

The employee skipped back over in a matter of moments and sat beside us. He handed me the new phone. "So, you're all up and ready to go. There's 5G network capability, 4k video shooting, and thirty hours of battery life, but during light use. I switched over all of your data and storage, and you get to keep the same number."

I unlocked the screen and basked in the stunning, crystal clear display. Immediately I could see how much brighter and sharper the picture was than my old phone, of course before the screen shattered.

"Thanks so much, I appreciate it," I said. He smiled cheerfully.

"Yeah, sure thing! Come back if you need anything else; we'll be happy to help."

Jacob assisted me to my feet again and we made our way to the door. As I crossed through the exit, my new phone dinged with a voicemail notification. It was from Angela and a timestamp indicated it was the message from last night, since the phone was still processing the transfer of my old data.

My stomach dropped. I didn't want to listen to it. It was only going to be bad and I didn't want it to ruin my day. Everyone in my life was right—I could ignore her.

Jacob helped me into the car and I turned the phone screen-side down on my lap while I buckled my seat belt. He got in and instantly addressed me when he closed his door.

"What happened?"

I breathed out, frustrated with myself that my face naturally showed every emotion that cycled through my being.

"My manager, Angela, called last night and left a voicemail; I don't want to listen to it. I already had my colleague put the time in for me."

He started the car and shifted into gear, all while checking his mirrors for oncoming traffic. "You don't have to listen to it if it's going to upset you. I can see on your face that you're already worried about it."

I stuck my hand under my chin and observed the Manhattan streets passing us by. Maybe I should just listen to it since it already affected me.

"I have an idea," he said. "How about we listen to it together on speaker?"

I picked up the phone and flicked the screen on. My thumb hovered over the voicemail button. "It's not necessary for you to have to listen to this. She's batshit crazy; you've seen it."

He frowned and snuck a glance at me again. "I just don't want you to have to listen to it alone. Maybe we can both laugh about it."

A text dinged and it was also from her. Before the notification disappeared from the top of the screen, I caught that it read, "CALL ME".

"Or you can delete it."

I sighed, pressed the voicemail without more hesitation, and put it on speaker. Angela's voice shrieked, "Chloe, it is unacceptable for you to be taking off so many days, you are letting your team down! You need to cut that vacation of yours short and get back to work as soon as possible. Call me. Bye."

I ended the connection and placed the phone face down on my lap once again. There was no need to look over at Jacob, because he adjusted in his seat and gripped his hand tighter to the steering wheel. The silence felt strangling, so I said anything.

"She's been acting like this from the beginning. I'm used to it."

He breathed out sharply. "But you don't have to be used to it. You shouldn't be. Don't make excuses for her."

His change of tone surprised me, but I also understood why he was upset. No one should allow themselves to take the verbal abuse that I got, because I wouldn't even wish it on an enemy. I didn't know why I put up with it. I was starting to think that it wasn't to keep my job for the rent money. After all, there were other jobs out there.

"I'll take care of it," he replied, sternly. "You can take your vacation without worrying about her."