Frankie's point of view:
"Mr Hayes and Mr Donaldson want to see you now."
Jillian's cold voice made me jump, my pencil almost slipping through the new sketches I was quietly working on. She hovers at my door, taking a long and final look before stalking back to reception. Her frosty attitude towards me still hadn't thawed out and I was often reminded that she wasn't much of a social person but for some ill-picking reason, I couldn't shake the horrible perspective I had against her.
Shutting my sketching pad, I hook it beneath my arm and grab the smaller notebook from atop of my freshly tidied desk. I check the clock hanging above my door as I leave - twenty-five minutes early for our scheduled meeting about the chalets in Switzerland. In the opposite hallway, I double knock the door and hear the beckoning call forward.
"Miss Fields." David smiles as he, Jason and the two other gentlemen in the room stand from their seats. I shake each their hands, a skip of heartbeat and a furious blush overcoming my cheeks as I shake Jason's. I don't miss the cheekily little smile that he tried to hide. "Take a seat, Miss Fields. This is Mr Hunter and Mr Croft, our contractors for Switzerland. We were just beginning to discuss the planning for the interior. Have you sketches?"
I nod, timidly tucking a piece of hair behind my ear as I lay out my fresh ideas on the table in front of the four powerful men. Previous to this meeting not only did Jason and David give me a pep-talk, but Jenny did too after I arrived shaking with nerves for my first ever assignment - aside from Jason's office.
"From the notes I have, there will be three types of chalet's - correct?" I speak, willing my voice to remain steady and calm. The men nod. "So based on the types of chalet's, the costs of each and their locations, I came up with these."
Each separate sketch represented each chalet and their views. One facing a mountain, one facing the lake and one very secluded with surrounding forest. I anxiously presented each one and gave the description of each all while cautiously watching the two unfamiliar men's faces as they overlook my work. With no expression on either face, I could feel my freshly straightened hair stick to the back of my neck from gathering sweat.
"So the bathtub will be at the window?" Mr Hunter asks. He was a older man, mid to late fifties with a gruff voice like he had smoked all his life.
I nod. "Yes sir, a floor to ceiling window overlooking the secluded lake. The shower and toilet are also glass, only the toilet has a separate cubicle to itself and is frosted half-way. The bathroom floors are also heated beneath the marble tiles."
I fiddle with my fingers in a hope to distract them from shaking uncontrollably. As the two men murmur between themselves in hushed tones, I gulp quietly and smooth my hands down the hips of my pencil skirt, wiping away the clamminess that continues to gather. Suddenly, I can feel every tight knot that started to form across my neck and shoulders ease as a hand gently brushes against my wrist. Tips of fingers ever so softly grazes my skin from wrist bone to elbow, causing a trail of fire to follow and spread to my shoulder blazes with still a feather touch. I shiver involuntarily, my slightly widened eyes still locked nervously on the men who still were discussing my work.
"Calm down." His deep, raspy whisper breathed into my ear. A soft mix of peppermint and musky cologne soothing me instantly but making me tense further. "Breathe, Frankie."
He straightens back again and I urge to release a cry as he removes his hand, returning it back to his side. I inhale shakily, flickering my eyes up to Jason's towering body that had enclosed onto my hunched frame. His tongue peaks and swipes across his lips, his eyes that were so intensely locked on his business partners quickly dart to me for a split second just to give me a daring wink and making my stomach swoop.
Holy mother of God.
"Quite impressive, Miss Fields." Mr Hunter speaks. "I like the fireplaces in each, but I really like how you've sectioned the living area and bedroom of in Lakeview. Also, the heated glass dome that is attached to the chalet. Incredible."
My cheeks flush and my chest tightens. "Thank you, sir."
As we take our seats, Mr Croft holds onto one of my sketches and scans it curiously. I rub my palms beneath the table, sitting on the edge of the office chair.
"How long did you study interior design for, Miss Fields?" Mr Croft asks.
He was much younger than Mr Hunter, possibly early thirties. Thick mop of black hair, piercing green eyes and a clean shave. He tilts his head as he awaits my answer, and I don't miss how Jason's posture suddenly tenses.
"Four years, sir."
He hums, returning my sketch to the space between the other two. "I can tell. You seem very dedicated - these sketches look like they've took up a lot of your time."
"Well, I am dedicated to my job." I tell him. "I have a soft spot of design and each one I do, I devote my entire being to it. I don't do a job half-heartedly, I inherited that from my father. It's either all or nothing."
"Frankie is one of our best workers." Jason comments.
"If you devote all your time to your job, do you have time for a social life? A relationship?" His inquisitive tone was laced with something I couldn't put my finger on. "That's if you're in a relationship. I would just assume a gorgeous bombshell like yourself would be snatched up instantly."
"I think that's inappropriate, don't you think?" Jason snaps, his eyes hooded. I nudge my ankle against his, directing his fiery gaze from Mr Croft to me. Those chocolate pools of glory had turned dark and masked with a curtain of fury. I keep my leg touching his in a hope to relax his stiff demeanour.
"Well," I speak, squirming under the eight intense gazes of the four intimidating men. "That's a personal question, Mr Croft and I would much rather not speak about my personal life when the attention should be solely focused on my work ethic. After all, this is a business meeting where business should be the only conversation."
Mr Croft straightens, tugging on his suit jacket as he clears his throat. "It was only a question, Miss Fields."
"I think we're done here." Jason says again, his emotionless tone stayed hard like stone. He and David shake the hand of Mr Hunter, who also shakes mine but before Mr Croft could even batter a eyelid in my direction, Jason's towering figure appears in front of me. I could barely see over his shoulder, but I was too shocked to move.
Mr Croft rises to his feet, seemingly unaware of Jason's sudden change in demeanour. "You know where I am if you want to take your mind away from work, Miss Fields."
"She won't." His bark was stern and filled with fury as he stares down the smaller man. Mr Hunter apologises on his co-workers behalf, shaking both Jason and David's hand before he stalks out behind the crude younger man.
Once the door clicks shut, Jason's rigid stance relaxes and he turns to face me.
"Are you okay?"
"Pretty sure I should be asking you that question." I mutter quietly. "What was that all about?"
"I agree." David pipes up, clearing away the paperwork into his opened briefcase. He looks at Jason with a cocked eyebrow. "What was that all about?"
Jason shrugs. "He was being inappropriate."
"Or you were being jealous." David's singing voice teases with a large, goofy grin spreading across his lips. My cheeks beam and Jason's matches with a flush travelling down his neck. David clicks his briefcase shut, still smirking at the two of us squirming. "As much as I would love to stay and chat, the tension in here is ridiculous and I have to go make a call. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."
My face stung with the warmth as David stalks out, giving a childish and cheeky wink on his way. The room falls silent, neither of us exactly knowing what to say to ease the now awkward tension. I clear my throat, reaching forward to collect my drawings.
"I better go too." I tell him nervously, my palms had begun to get sticky and I needed to escape before my hammering heart bursts from my chest. "Thank you - for what you said to Mr Croft."
He grunts. "It was disrespectful not to meant extremely unprofessional. I'm proud of you though, for speaking back."
I smile shyly, hooking my pen into the pages of my notebook. "Well, thank you. You didn't need to end your meeting just because of me - I was fine. I could handle it."
"You might be able too, but I wasn't." He mutters quietly. With a slightly gaped mouth, I stare at him in wonder. His brown, puppy dog eyes held so much emotion but there was still a solid concrete barrier blocking my way to see what they were. He shakes his head and clears his throat, smoothing down his tie. "I was going to speak to you after the meeting about something."
His nervous trail made my eyebrows furrow. "Yes?"
He rubs the back of his flushed neck. "Well, uh, I was just going to ask if you had any plans for tomorrow night. There's a gala tomorrow night, proceeds going to a variety of different charities - David and I have put our charities forward so we're obliged to go and I was just wondering, if you would want to accompany me?"
His words were shaky as his hand twists and turns around the nape of his neck, creating red marks. The mass of butterflies flapped against my rib cage almost like they were wanting to break a bone and I was terrified in case he heard my raging heart rate. I clutch the notebook, the pressure of the pages threatening to slice paper cuts into the pads of my fingers.
"I wouldn't be intruding?"
"Never." He responses almost instantly. "I-I would like for you to be with me. You won't be alone either, Georgia will be there and my parents, aunt Pamela and David's sister, Lucy. Everyone comes to support the causes."
"I don't have a dress." I tell him, gnawing on my lower lip. "I mean, I own dresses but not a formal one."
He smiles sheepishly. "Come with me."
With curious knots forming in my stomach, I gather my things and hurry after him. We pass the reception desk where Jillian saw scowling, her icy gaze following the pair of us to Jason's office and causing a cold shiver to run down my spine. The safety of his office made me sigh in relief but the confusion remains as he pulls open a storage cupboard behind his desk.
"Before you ask, I was hoping you would agree so I got Flo to tell me your dress size. I knew you would freak about not having something to wear, so it's one less thing for you to stress about."
The matte white box was perfectly untouched, fitted with a silky red bow and shiny writing sprawled across the top making me gasp at the designer label. With wide eyes, I tug at the ribbon and lift the lid, pulling back the matching tissue paper inside and revealing the most beautiful emerald green satin gown with a slightly A-line skirt and off-the-shoulder straps.
"Jason." I whisper breathlessly. "This is too much."
"I knew you would say that." He chuckles lowly, hands thrust deep into his pockets. My fingers continued to glide over the smooth material in awe. "Think of it as a thank you for coming with me - if you agree, of course."
"No - I mean, yes." I stumble. "I mean no I can't accept this - Jason, look at the price! It's more than three months rent. No, no I can't accept it. I won't!"
"Frankie-"
"No! What if we get photographed again? Or what if it's just I who gets photographed?" I question him, sliding the lid back on top of the rectangular box. "They'll create a story about how you have bought me this and it'll be turned into twisted nonsense about how I use you for money and I don't want that too happen."
"I promise it won't." His reassurance in his voice settled my sudden shoot of anxiety. "It's a gift."
"A expensive and unnecessary gift."
He shakes his head. "Frankie, please." he lets out a small wheezed sigh. "I have never willingly wanted to buy something for someone before. With you it's different - I want to spoil you."
I was speechless.
"Tomorrow you said?" I ask him and he nods slowly. I take another look at the perfect fabric folded neatly in the box and while my head repeatedly screamed at my about the price tag, my heart pulled me the opposite way. "I'm still not amused with you buying this for me. Not with this price tag."
"But you'll come?" He asks with a growing smile. I nod timidly, cheeks heating as the dimples appears on the crease of his lip. "It's a date."
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