six: Which cheeks?

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Frankie's point of view:

"You look like shit."

I attempt to roll my eyes and hiss at the sudden sharpness that rattled my skull. I dab my redden nose with the tissue that was bundled up the sleeve of my cardigan as I sit down at my desk, kicking my handbag beneath. Jenny watches me with raised eyebrows and I wave my hand in dismissal.

"It's only a cold. Stop looking at me like I'm dying."

"Well you are resembling a corpse." She snorts and crosses her arms over her chest. I poke my tongue out, digging deep in one of my side drawers for throat soothers to help the burn. "Why didn't you just stay at home?"

"Since Alison's not coming back, and they've not found a replacement, I'm covering her job until they get one suitable." I tell her.

After discussing it with both Jason and David yesterday, when my cold was still lying dormant, I convinced them to let me help instead of putting pressure on another terrified intern. But when I woke up this morning with my head feeling heavier than a bowling ball and eyes stinging like they had been bathed in bleach, I suddenly regretted taking the extra workload.

"I can cover you." Jenny offers sweetly. "I don't have anything in until three. Plenty of time to do whatever you need me to do."

"I'm fine." I sniff, rubbing my itchy nose. "Though could to run these up to Jillian? I don't think I could handle the ride in that elevator, I might end up throwing up."

She nods, smiling as I past the envelope of papers over to her. "I'll bring you a green tea back."

I set my hand on my chest and over my heart, and she laughs. As she leaves, I press my fingers to my throbbing temples. I wrap my cardigan tighter around my shivering body, tightening my jaw to stop my teeth from chattering.

Thankfully I was on top of the incoming paperwork, both mine and Alison's. I roll my tensed shoulders, stapling the last of the papers together as the tingle creeps through my sinuses. My phone rings and I pray I don't sneeze to whoever was on the other end.

"Good morning, J.D Headquarters - Frankie speaking, how may I help you?"

"Miss Fields, may I see you in my office a moment?" His voice was raspy and suddenly my shoulders were tensed again. I nod absentmindedly, forgetting he couldn't see.

"I'll be just a moment, sir."

My legs wobble, with nerves or lack of energy I wasn't sure. The elevator ride I was desperately avoiding made my stomach churn as it jerks to a stop, my cheeks puffing out to stop me from vomiting over the red carpeted floor. Jillian was perched behind her desk, glasses on the tip of her nose and fingers typing rapidly across the keyboard filling the silent room with an annoying tapping noise.

"Mr Hayes' wanted to see me." I croak out. She throws a thumb over her shoulder, pointing to the hallway leading to the left. Awkwardly shifting away from her desk, I exhaustively drag myself down the empty hallway. There was black and white canvas' hanging on each side of the walls, perfectly placed and spaced out, and although they didn't exactly look like much, I knew they were costly.

How could a door be so daunting?

My numb knuckles tap against the polished oak and I hear his faint call beckoning me forward. The shiny gold doorknob was untouched and I was now scared to get my clammy hand print over it.

The carpet was white, the walls were white, even the seats were white but the view was incredible. Floor to ceiling windows were in front of me, almost making me gasp aloud at the view of Central Park and it was almost enough to make me believe it was some sort of hologram. His desk was glass like mine downstairs and it only held his computer, a few items of stationary and a photo.

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