Frankie's point of view:
He had a talent. If the business world decided to go against him one day, he surely could fall into being a culinary mastermind. My spoon dips back into the bowl of soup and another delightful moan roars from the back of my throat as my eyes close in sheer satisfaction.
Could I hire him?
"My mother will be delighted to know that her recipes are going down well with people who aren't just family. She always would assume they were being nice just because they are related."
I shake my head, "Well you can tell her that she is a genius."
He sets his empty bowl on the coffee table in front of me, chuckling to himself as he shifts his hand to the glossy magazine. My eyes widen like saucers and I shriek, a mad rush to pluck it from his hands but he was too quick. Amusement wrote across his face as he looks at me.
"It's not mine!"
Chuckling he says, "Really?" with no belief in his tone. "So you're not keeping a magazine with my face on it just for your own benefit?"
"No!" I shriek. "I mean - I didn't pick it up purposely because you were on it. Infact, I wanted to read the interview with Tom Holland."
"Sure." He pokes, grinning widely. I bashfully look down at my lap, leaning forward to place my bowl beside his. "Feeling any better?"
I nod. "A bit." I bite down on my lower lip, tugging the sleeves of my jumper over my hands. "Do you need to get going? I've probably kept you long enough, I appreciate you staying and cooking for me but I totally understand if you have somewhere else to be or somewhere else-"
"You ramble when you're nervous." He states with a sly smile. "But no, I don't have anywhere else to be. In fact, I quite like this."
My lower abdomen cramps and my chest tightens, my breathing turning shallow. I scolded myself for these feelings, whatever they were. Jason was my boss, and there was no room for any sort of emotions. This wasn't one of my novels - this wasn't the love at first sight, walking into a crowd and meeting eyes across the room. This wasn't the old flame coming back and redeveloping feelings for him. This wasn't a high school sweetheart sanario.
This was a strictly work and colleague relationship - who just happened to be helping out a lost soul find love that I dreamt about.
"Who's the biker?" He asks, motioning to the logo stamped on my back.
"My dad." I smile. "He's been into motorcycles his entire life. Right through high school he had a bike. They were like his babies, loved them just as much as me and Flo. He joined a biker club with my uncle Ray. My mom said it was their mid-life crisis. They even got those really big oversized, leather jackets and hung bandanna's from the back pocket of their jeans. Ray even got his ear pierced - my dad was too much of a chicken."
"Is he still in the club?"
I nod. "After my mom died, it was the only thing he had of normality. Everyone looked at him like a sad old widow who was left with two girls and he hated it, whereas the guys in the club didn't treat him any different. They kept joking with him, including him in everything and never shying away from coming over every Sunday for dinner, which was always cooked by Flo and I."
"That sounds.. Interesting."
"It was." I laughed, pulling my legs under my body. He sits sideways, his body now facing me with a arm on the back of the couch and his hand propping up his head. He was so relaxed, it made me warm. "I still think they call on Sunday's. Though, my dad is a really rubbish cook so I think they either have a take-out or one of his friend's wives cook them something."
"Sounds like good friends." He said and I smile shyly under his gaze. He was intimidating, but in a good way. Like he was searching for something within my soul - but what?
"How about you? Have you any siblings?"
Realising that I had almost poured everything out to him, he had told me barely anything in response. I knew about his mother, and his father being a businessman. But was he a only child?
"I was a test tube baby."
I could've choked.
"Don't worry, I can actually say that because it's true." He explains with a slight shrug. "My parents had IVF to have me. It failed on them four times before I was finally born, all eight weeks early."
"God." I whispered, eyes still huge with shock. "You were a miracle then."
"Well," He trails with a cheeky wink before laughing as I swat his arm playfully. "They call me it - their miracle. I always wanted siblings though, and I hated myself for thinking it growing up, but there was always that sort of resentment towards my parents because they couldn't give me one. I always thought they just wouldn't give me a brother or sister, but then as I started to understand more it wasn't that they wouldn't. It was because they couldn't."
"But you had David, didn't you?"
He laughs with a snort. "Yeah. He was a complete douche growing up."
"I'll tell him you said that."
"Be my guest, he knows it. I've told him it all his life." He jokes. "But from we turned probably about fifteen, he became my best friend. Resulting in us going into business together. Still doesn't excuse him being a dick."
"He couldn't have been that bad, I'm sure you were just as mischievous."
"Mischievous, yes. Reckless, no." He says. "He was nine when he stole aunt Pamela's credit card to max it out on computer games online. He was twelve when he stole and crashed uncle Henry's car. He was thirteen when he stuck out to a party and got so drunk the police brought him home."
I covered my mouth with my hand, stifling back a laugh. "But he seems so innocent."
"Don't be fooled." He scoffed. "But now, he's very settled into the business. He calmed down after his sister, Lucy, was involved in a car crash. Luckily, the damage could have been so much worse but it was some kids that he actually hung out with stealing a car and crashing into her when she was cycling back to school. My dad give him a trial week working for him after that - the rest was history."
"Is your dad in the same business?"
"He taught me everything I know." He smiles proudly. He brushes a hand through his hair, messing up his neatly combed parting and slight quiff. "Including the habit of never turning the profession switch, off. It's the only thing I'm don't appreciate him teaching me, in fact, it's the only thing I hated him teaching me."
"What do you mean?"
"It's like my brain is constantly on work mode, there's no off button. I'm sure as soon as you leave your desk, you completely resign from all thoughts off work, right? Well I don't. I think of it constantly. When I'm at work, home, in the shower, eating dinner, even on vacations. It's the only thing I ever think about." He explains. There was a hindrance in his tone and it caused me to tilt my head. "I'd love to just - just switch off."
"Well," I trail quietly, my fingers fiddling with the end of my jumper that curled around my thighs. "Maybe you just don't have anything to occupy yourself with."
"I doubt that's the reason." He said, "When Natasha and I were dating, and we went on many vacations and I still couldn't stop thinking about work. I was in all these beautiful places all across the world, seeing things people only saw in photographs, and there I was still thinking about the next hotel to build or the next venture to start."
I bite my lower lip, peeking up to him through my lashes with a feeling of apprehension course through my veins. "Maybe that's because you didn't want her company to distract you. Maybe you were using work as a distraction from her."
Every time I mentioned something about Natasha, or about Jason's love life in general, I was always nervous. I felt like I was intruding, like I was imposing on his privacy but never once was he angry, or upset about anything I said. Then again, he didn't actually say anything. He was just always silent.
"Why do you do that?"
My words startle him as he lifts his head with raised brows and a confused look. His lips were slightly pouted and his nose slightly wrinkles.
"Do what?"
"Stay silent." I simply say, a small smirk wiggling its way onto my lips. "And you say I'm rude when I space out. I would call that hypocritical, Mr Hayes."
He laughs his breathless laugh. It was different than any other laugh. He had a deep chuckle that he often done when he found something amusing, he had a short giggle when he was trying to be polite at something or someone that wasn't really funny, then he had a really bold roar that made his eyes light up and his cheeks pinch.
"I do apologise, Miss Fields. Forgive me, please." He jokes and I poke my tongue out childishly at his mocking tone. "To answer your question, however - I stay silent because I'm taking in all what you say. I'm thinking about your statements and seeing if they're true."
"Do you think they're true?"
"Have I ever said otherwise?"
"You don't say much." I tease and earn a very playful eye roll. His competent attitude was replaced with this cheerful and youthful one. It was refreshing, and I enjoyed this side of him.
"Maybe you just take my breath away."
I snort with laughter, him joining in quickly after. Tears swarmed my eyes as the uncontrollable giggles fly from my lips, and send me frantically spluttering into a coughing fit. He bangs on my back, attempting to calm me all while still trying to calm himself.
"I don't think I've ever had a girl choke when I try a chat-up line on her."
"Wait," I paused with a giggle. "That was a chat-up line?"
He places a hand over his heart, sucking in a loud and amplified breath as if he was just shot through the chest. "Jesus, Frankie. Who knew you could be so harsh." I roll my eyes at him. "I'll have you know, I was the master of chat-up lines."
"Was being the key word."
"I'll prove it!" He declares. He clears his throat, straightened out his spine before switching an overly serious look on his face. All traces of our previous laughter being removed. "Did it hurt? You know, when you fell from heaven?"
I bark out a laugh. "You did not just say that!"
He beams with twinkling eyes of excitement. "Wait, there's more!" He returns to his serious expression, this time his eyebrows slightly more furrowed downwards. "Would you grab my arm?"
I narrow my eyes in confusion. "Why?"
"So then I can tell everyone I was touched by an angel."
My cheeks hurt, my sides hurt and my lungs were crying out for help. I plead with him to stop as I tried to subside my hyena laughter that overtook the television. He was smiling, grinning, as if he had just won something like when he got the top score on the basketball machine at Dave and Buster's.
"Did they ever work?"
"Never." He laughs, rubbing his thumb along his stubble that decorated his sharp and defined jaw. "Worth a try though, right?"
We both now fell silent. It was nice, not awkward just peaceful. The faint sound of some show playing out from the television and the ticking from the clock that hung on the kitchen wall, until my phone beeped.
From: Flo Viv convinced me to put up decorations already. We can't wait to see you!
Attached was a photo of my little blonde curly haired and blue eyed niece with a beaming smile as she sat beside the decorative pumpkins that were placed for display on the fireplace. I laugh, turning my phone towards Jason.
"This is Vivian." I tell him, watching as a bright smile overcomes his lips and a small aw escapes. "As you can tell, she's excited for the Halloween party - you're still coming, right?"
He nods sharply. "I have a meeting however, at three. It should be quick, I'll still make it on time. I still haven't got a costume, it is dressing up I assume?"
"Duh." I tut. "That's the best part of Halloween, but please, no fake costumes. Halloween is meant to be spooky and scary, not sexy firemen and unicorns. The more fake blood, the better."
"Even with a four year old there?"
I scoff, "Wait until you see Viv's costume, it usually ends up freaking out more adults than it does her. Oh, and she might want you do party games with her. Dunking for apples is her favourite, but you can always say no."
"I've never been to a Halloween party before." He says. "Or any party that didn't involve posh food and business men in suits."
This time it was his phone that bleeps. His lips dangles low in a frown and he sighs. Something flips within me and I find myself copying his actions, frowning as he digs his phone back into his pocket.
"I have to go." He tells me sincerely as he stands, plucking his jacket from the back of the stool. I follow him to the door, clutching the handle tightly as he wanders into the hallway. He pushes his hands into his pockets, smiling small as he faces me. "Go and get some rest, have some more of that soup later and have a hot bath. If you still don't feel well enough tomorrow, don't come in."
"If I didn't know any better, Mr Hayes, I would say you were trying to get rid of me." I joke with him shyly. He chuckles. "Thank you. For everything - you really, really, didn't need to do any of this."
He shrugs his shoulder slightly as his cheeks taint with a rosy red color. "Get some rest, Frankie."
He leaves, leaving my apartment empty and dull. I trudge back to the living room, curling back into my feline like position and grabbing my phone to scroll through social media.
From: Jason Do you have a map? Because I keep getting lost in your eyes.
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I can't believe I've almost reached 100 reads! Thank you to every single one of you amazing little humans, you make me so happy!
So I was thinking, maybe at the end of every chapter you could tell me what your favourite part was? I would love to hear your feedback, did the chapters make you smile, laugh or aw out loud.
Also, question for you: Which genre of book are you most attracted too? Mines is romance, I'm a complete sucker for a good ol' romance book.
Please vote and comment xoxox