Frankie's point of view:
"I can't believe it, who would do such a thing - so close to Christmas too!" Jenny exclaims, engulfing me in a bone crushing embrace. She holds me at arms length, her boney fingers driving into my shoulders as the sympathy swims across her flawless features. "If you need anything, literally anything - money, food, a place to stay, you just tell me!"
I smile at her thankfully. "Thank you, but I'm covered. I don't keep cash in my apartment, they didn't even touch any presents they were stored in the cupboard by my front door - they didn't have a reason to look there. The officers brought them over yesterday when they finished securing the apartment."
"Where are you staying?" She asked with a curious frown. As the blush succombs my cheeks and my lips pressed together in a tight line to suppress the smile. Seeing this, her eyes widen and a large, exciting grin turns her frown. "You're staying with Mr Moody!"
I hush her, eyeing the surrounding empty hallway. "You need to keep your voice down and please, don't repeat that to anybody!" I sigh. "Yes, I'm staying with Mr Hayes. Only until after Christmas and until the forensic teams gets the report back of the fingerprints they found. He was nice enough to offer me a place to go until then."
"Oh, Frankie." She giggles. "I can't believe this! It's awful your home got ransacked, but you're getting to stay with lover boy. That has to be in a book somewhere."
I roll my eyes at her. "Don't get too hyped up. He's just being friendly, and saving me a few hundred on booking into a hotel."
"Whatever you say." She giggles childishly. She glances down at her watch and taps the face. "I have to run. I haven't got anything in for Christmas and I'm pretty certain if I was to hand my brother another pair of socks, I'll be disowned. Apparently I don't learn from past years. Don't think I've forgot about your arrangement either, I'll be looking forward to hearing more about your nasty nights with Mr Moody."
"They're not nasty!" I call after her. She walks backwards, puckering her lips before turning and disappearing from view.
I return upstairs to my office, the snow falling outside the window and leaving a heavy blanket on the ground twenty-one floors down. I scribble across the thin layers of paperwork that was left on my desk early this morning, confirmation for the Chalet's to have a go ahead in mid January when the knock on the door interrupts me.
"Shouldn't you be heading?" Jason's voice greets as his head pokes through the door. I smile, finishing with my signature at the bottom of the paper and stapling them together.
"I should, and I am now. I just wanted to finish these." I tell him, popping my pen back into the holder. He hovers in front of my desk, suit perfectly buttoned and tie neatly knotted. "Did you want me for something?"
"Graham's going to take you home, I'm going to be late. We have a late night skype call with Mr Yung to discuss the new contractors." He tells me and I sadly smile. After Colin's announcement that Natasha's father would have nothing more to do with any of Jason or David's businesses, he roped in new contractors that he himself had previously worked with and trusted. "I had groceries delivered today, so help yourself when you go back."
"What about you?"
He tries to hide his smile. "I'll be fine, Frankie. Go, Graham's waiting."
As I throw my belongings into my bag and stand up from my chair, Jason has my coat in hand. I thank him as he shrugs it over my shoulders. I pull my ponytail from getting trapped at my neck as I turn to him. "Are you sure about this still? I mean, I can still go and try to get a room somewhere-"
"Go, Frankie." He says quickly. "I'll see you soon."
I was grateful for the heated seats in the flashy mercedes jeep, it stopped my shaking body and quivering lip. After sending replies to Hannah and dad's texts, I glance through the window and the chaotic streets. The beautiful Christmas lights sparkling through the snowfall made the scene look like a postcard.
Then I saw it. The neon lights, a forest display and the faint noise of Christmas music blaring from the speakers overhead.
"Graham? Can you stop for a second?"
"Everything okay, Miss Fields?" He asks curiously, his brows furrowing as he looks back through the mirror. He pulls to the side as I pull back on my gloves with an excited grin. "Miss Fields?"
"How good are you at decorating, Graham?"
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Growing up, Flo and I took great pride in helping mom decorate our Christmas tree while dad struggled with the prickly garland that covered the fireplace. We never had a colour scheme like other family members, and often got looked down upon at the tacky ornaments we picked. Our parents took us to the same Christmas shop each year and let us pick something new, from feathers and snowflakes to reindeers and snowmen.
But it was perfect.
Placing the final white sparkly bauble with black polka dots in the last space, I step back with hands on my hips and hum in satisfaction. While the tree stood much taller than me, and my heart ached for poor Graham's back after he lugged it inside and helped me stand it, it was perfect. Beyond perfect.
Grabbing the empty boxes scattered across the floor, I squish them to my chest and leave for the kitchen, discarding them into the waste bin and rushing to the cooker. Stirring the pot of spaghetti bolognese, the powerful fulfilling feeling suffocated my chest. Since last night, my first night staying with Jason, I had a settled feelings hovering over my heart - it wasn't painful, it didn't hurt but it was simply, contentment.
"Frankie?"
I gasp, jumping at his familiar warm voice behind me. Holding a hand over my chest, I turn to face him and shake my head. "A warning would be good next time."
He chuckles, setting his briefcase down on the counter and loosening his tie. "What are you doing?"
"I made dinner." I blurt embarrassingly, my cheeks flushing. "I hope you like spaghetti bolognese."
He inhales deeply through his nose, eyes dropping close and a smile overcoming his lips. "If it tastes just like it smells, I'm sure it'll be my new favourite. Don't tell my mom though, if she asks, her stew dumplings is still the best."
"Always." I giggle. "Oh! Come! I need to show you something!"
Setting the wooden spoon back on the side, I giddly skip towards him and grab his wrist instinctively, dragging him back towards the living room. I stop, hovering my hands over his eyes and listen to him laugh, groaning; "I don't like surprises, Frankie."
"You'll like this one!" I grin. Backing towards and guiding him with me, I position him in front of the tree. "Ready?"
"Hurry up, Frankie." He laughs. In that second, I wanted the frame to freeze. I wanted to constantly see that wide smile, the dimple at the corner of his lip, his pinched cheeks and sharp jaw. I wanted him to always be this happy - and I wanted to be the reason. "Frankie?"
Crap.
"Sorry." I mumbled. "Ready? Three, two, one."
Moving quickly, he blinks multiple times to readjust his vision before trailing his gaze from stump to the star on top. I bite my lip, shifting from foot-to-foot nervously. Suddenly, the uneasy feeling made me queasy. He was quiet again.
Shocker.
"Did I do too much?" I ask, fiddling with my fingers. "I'm sorry - I just thought that it would make it feel a bit more festive. I should've asked you first, I'm so sorry. I'll take it down -"
"Thank God it isn't boring." He says simply. He looks down at my timid smile and smiles back again. "It's perfect, Frankie. You shouldn't have went through so much trouble. How did you even get this tree in here?"
"You might want to give Graham a raise in his wage." I giggle. "Are you sure it's okay?"
He nods firmly. "It's more than okay. It's the first time this house has ever had a tree in three years." He glances back to it. "When my parents started going on holiday, they stopped putting a tree up and I never liked the idea of doing it for just myself. It's about time I stop being a scrooge."
"Well if you're spending it with us, you'll definitely not be a scrooge." I tell him. "You should go get showered. Dinner will be ready in ten minutes or so."
Spaghetti bolognese was dad's signature dish when I grew up, and I spent countless evenings sitting on the counter watching him prepare our dinners. Dipping my spoon, I sigh at the childhood taste. Serving out two plates, I check the time - I didn't want Jason's dinner to go cold. Clambering up the stairs, I knock on Jason's bedroom door and hear nothing but silence.
"Jason?" I call, knocking again. Still nothing. Involuntarily, I reach for the doorknob and push my way into his master suite, dragging my jaw from the floor. The bed, freshly made, was big enough to sleep six. He even had a smaller two seater couch and a armchair.
"Shit!"
My eyes could've rolled across the bedroom floor at the sight of the glorious, toned and perfectly chiselled body dripping with water droplets and secured in nothing but a white fluffy towel that he so desperately clutched at by his waist.
"I'm sorry!" I shriek, slamming the door shut quickly. My ragged breathing caused my chest to rise and fall rapidly, but my feet remained glued on the spot. Half naked and only a few feet away behind the large oak door, stood my boss.
My dripping wet, insanely fit and ever-so-gorgeous boss.
Lord.
I knock again and call "Dinner's ready." before scarpering back down the stairs like a terrified puppy. If there was something I could be sure off, is that I will definitely never be able to look at him the same again.
Someone give me strength.
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Sorry for the rushed chapter, it's a week to Christmas and I'm rushing like a mad woman getting last minute things bought/wrapped/delivered to family. It's a bit chaotic but I hope you liked it enough!
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SPOILER ALERT:Â Christmas chapter/s will be megaaaa long and possibly the most anticipated chapter/s you've all been waiting on!!
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