How to love

eleven: No more butterflies

Frankie's point of view:

Soon never came. A day turned into two, then five and now it was exactly a week since my last form of contact with Jason. A week since he said he would fix the tabloids that no longer lingered on every street corner.

David visited my desk every day, and every day he would ask me if Jason had came. The answer was always the same, and his sympathetic smile was something of the normal now. Pamela even seemed confused about the sudden cut-off. I found myself hovering over his contact number daily and shamelessly multiple times a day, but I never once called or sent a text. I was too much of a coward.

There was a constant heaviness in my chest, a dull and deep ache nestling atop of my heart. It was a feeling I couldn't shake, whether I was in work or at home and I was almost certain it was because of Jason's avoidance for the past week. I kept thinking I saw him when the elevator doors opened, but there was always to many people to truly see. I scolded myself every day and every hour when he popped into my mind.

Jason was my boss - my employer, and nothing more. He needed help over a month ago. He was blinded by fraudulent people who wanted nothing more than money, but he couldn't see that because his life was surrounded by wealth. He deserved love, he deserves someone who deserves him. At Flo's party, when he was able to recognise Jane's degrading attempt to swoon him as nothing more than her seeing dollar signs, that was him realising. Realising who wanted his money, and who wanted him.

"Frankie?" David's calming voice greets me from the opposite end of the phone. I mutter a quiet hello back and hear him sigh softly. "Can you come up to my office for a minute please?"

"Just me?"

He chuckles. "Yes, just you. Don't worry you're not in trouble, I just want to talk to you. Just tell Jillian you're here to see me, and come on in."

My stomach knots uncomfortably as I ride the elevator to the shared floor. Jillian twiddles with the pen between her fingers, grumbling something beneath her breath and watching me with a scowl as I lead myself down the opposite hallway to David's office. Knocking politely before I entered, he greets me with a sadden smile.

"Please can you stop looking at me like that, you remind me too much of your mom when you do that." I mumble, perching myself down on the chair in front of his desk. His office was like Jason's only more colourful. Red seats, a blue shaggy rug with bright splashes of paint hanging on the walls. "What did you want me for?"

He rests his chins on both his balled fists like a innocent child. "How are you?"

I roll my eyes. "I'm fine, David."

"But you're really not, are you?" He says, stretching back. "Because I know Jason isn't, which means your not either."

I perk up, shifting to straighten up slightly. "Jason's not doing well?"

I saw the corners of his lips twitch and I narrow my eyes at him. David definitely wasn't like a boss, he was more relaxed and mellow compared to Jason. Him and I had grew a bond that wasn't like employer and employee, more like childhood friends. While I wasn't sure when we suddenly became close, I was thankful we did.

"He's moody, like a pregnant woman in her third trimester moody." He joked as my eyebrows stay high. "I've never seen him so snappy, and I certainly have never seen him throw himself this deep into work. Frankie, he slept here Wednesday night. He's never, ever done that before."

I gulp down the gathering saliva and nervously twiddle with my fingers. Jason had slept here? In his office? Why?

"Jason handles stress well, even when we were eighteen and his dad decided that he was old enough to take control of his business while he retired. When we had that big contract with one of the hotel's in Hong Kong go bust - Jason took it all in his stride and never let any of it faze him but Jesus, Frankie." He pauses to sigh loudly and shake his head. "Jesus is he stressing over you."