Story Board

Here's the whole thing so far:

Love. That's what it was, and she was sure of it. Nothing had ever been made so clear before. The late night talks, long drives in his car, and many hours spent reapplying make-up. She wasn't sure how it happened, or even when. But now she found herself in quite a mess. She lay on her bed looking up into the ceiling, painted the color of watery root beer.

"Not a very pretty color," she commented aloud, trying to distract her thoughts. It did not help. George's smiling face was still there in her mind. She sighed in frustration and sat up. There was no way she was going to sleep tonight; she might as well do something. She got out of bed and made her way downstairs. She pattered barefoot into the kitchen and made some tea and then flipped on the tv.

She sat idly seeing the colors change and hearing the monotonous drone of the newscasters, but not really listening. "You're beautiful Jane, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise," rang George's voice in her head. He had looked so tender and kind when he had said those words, his broad frame sheltering her from the windy night. She had never considered herself a beauty, but she had never considered herself as really anything. She was typically one of those willy-nilly girls who acted how she felt, and didn't care about appearances. But ever since George..
"Uhh, I really must stop," sputtered Jane as she swept her long brown hair into a pony tail. "Perhaps cleaning the kitchen will do the trick."

Cleaning the kitchen turned into cleaning the whole house and before Jane knew it, the sun had risen. She glanced at the clock as she dusted it off and shrieked. "Five-thirty?!" She had to be at work by seven. And since George was going to be there, she needed all the time she could get to beautify herself. She scampered up the stairs and took a quick shower. Then she sat down on her bed to do her nails and soon after fell asleep.

She awoke abruptly to hard pounding on her door. with the sleep still in her eyes and hair flying all over the place, Jane quickly went down to her front door. On her front porch was none other than her boss, Mr. Wallice. "Well Jane I hope you-" he stopped short seeing her appearance. Dressed only in a bathrobe, Jane was looking the opposite of professional. He shook off his surprise and continued. "Jane, I hate to have to do this to you, but this is the fourth day this week that you've been late. Fiona, bless her heart, has been picking up your slack this morning. And I hate to see her stretched passed her limits." Jane coughed to suppress a giggle that was about to erupt. It was a sort of inside joke with her and George that Mr. Wallice was in love with Fiona, and he wasn't saying much to disprove this. "I'm sorry Jane, but you're fired."

Jane's urge to giggle dissipated. "Fired?!" she sputtered. "But...I..."
"Excuses will be useless, Jane. I've made up my mind," Mr. Wallice replied. "Now, seeing as how I am not a stone-hearted person, I have already contacted an acquaintance of mine who, fortunately, works later in the day and is in need of a receptionist. Because really Jane, you are an excellent worker, you just have trouble with early mornings...am I right?" Jane shrugged and then straightened up.
"Thank you very much Mr. Wallice," she said. It didn't seem suitable enough, but she was tired and shocked at being fired so abruptly.
"Yes, well..." Mr. Wallice looked uncomfortable. "Perhaps you should come into the office later today to sort out the details and meet Mr. Frankfurt, the acquaintance I spoke of."
"Yes, sir," Jane replied. Mr. Wallice nodded goodbye and left.

Jane spent the rest of her day trying to convince herself that this was a positive contribution to her life. She had only worked for Mr. Wallice a mere 7 months, but surely it was high time for a change. She would have believed this whole heartily, if not for George. He was such a busy man, and now that she would not see him at the office, she feared she would lose him completely.
Around 4 pm, Jane decided to go and meet this Mr. Frankfurt. She was greeted at the receptionist desk by Fiona. "Oh hello Jane. I heard about the dreadful news. But perhaps dental work is not your specialty. Mr. Frankfurt owns a barber shop, so that ought to suit a girl like you much better."

"A girl like me...?" Jane began, but was quickly interrupted by the opening of one of the office doors.
George strolled out.
"Oh hello Jane. I heard the news. Gee it really is too bad," he said. "I hear this Frankfurt fellow is a tyrant. Good luck to you!" he said with a wink and a grin. And he left before Jane could respond.
"Oh my, he's certainly in a hurry tonight," Fiona whispered. "I hear he has a date! Isn't that thrilling? Oh I wish I had a date tonight, don't you?" she finished wistfully.
"Oh, well I suppose," Jane replied, distractedly. Who was George going out with? She didn't have long to ponder this question as the door opened again. This time Mr. Wallice and another man, presumably Mr. Frankfurt, walked out.
"Ah Jane!" Mr. Wallice exclaimed. "Meet my good friend Mr. Frankfurt."