Chapter 2
Maxwell was standing near the bar in the lobby of his theater, wringing his hands. It was packed with people, critics, reporters, and photographers snapping pictures with a frenzy. Like every opening night, he was both excited and nervous. So he did what any man in his anxious mind would do. He turned around to face the bartender and ordered a scotch. Just one glass to keep the edge off, he reminded himself. He took a long swallow, savoring the burn in his throat before looking around for CC. In the midst of the excitement he somehow lost her in the sea of theater-goers.
But he noticed a head of long dark, curly hair instead, standing not too far away, clinging to the arm of her fiancé. He could recognize her anywhere. He decided it was best to be polite and say hello before the play started.
"Fran, John, glad you both could make it," Maxwell said, shaking John's hand in greeting.
"Oh, Maxwell, we wouldn't have missed it," Fran replied, her smile wide and beautiful. "Wow, it's really packed. Your play must be as good as the papers say it is."
Maxwell feigned from blushing, but failed miserably. He tried to hide it by straightening his tie and smoothing the hair above his ear. "So I'll be expecting a good review from both of you then?"
Fran and John laughed. "You bet, pal." John slapped him on the shoulder in a gesture Max hoped was friendly. John looked over at Fran, gesturing with his head towards the seating entrance. "Honey, why don't we go find our seats before it starts to fill up?"
"Alright. Maxwell, thanks again for the tickets. Maybe we can find each other during intermission?"
"Ok, I'll keep an eye out for you." Maxwell watched the couple head through the entrance doors. He didn't know why but ever since he met Fran at that benefit he couldn't stop thinking about her. There was just something about her that stirred him - awakened him. He'd been grieving over his wife for three years now and he didn't think he could ever pull himself out of the deep hole he was in emotionally. But Fran Fine was something else entirely. Yes, she was engaged, he knew, but they could still be close friends. At least he hoped they could.
"Maxwell," he heard CC call out to him. Like clockwork her hand found his arm, and they linked at the elbow, making their way through the doors and to their seats.
During intermission, Maxwell kept looking back at the bar. He didn't see any sign of Fran or John yet, and he really wanted a drink to calm his nerves but knew that he should be as sober as possible.
"Maxwell!" Fran's nasally voice cried. He turned around and spotted her standing by herself away from all the other groups of people waiting for intermission to end. He smiled and made his way towards her.
"So how is it so far?" he asked her.
"It's amazing. I love the costumes, but I think your lead could have a bit more flair." She winked then laughed.
"Well, for my next play I'll have to hire you as costume designer." She laughed with him, playing along. Maxwell glanced around the lobby. "Where's John?"
"Restroom," Fran replied.
Max nodded. "I heard that you met my children at the park last week."
"Oh, you did? I'm sorry, Maxwell, I didn't know they were yours until the nanny said your name. I hope it's not a problem that we met prematurely. I'm sure you wanted to tell me about them yourself."
"No, no it's not a problem. Quite the opposite, actually. From the way they talked about you, I could tell they really liked you. And I'm glad, because the children have had a tough time as of late. I'm sure they told you about the passing of their mother?"
Fran's eyes softened at his look of despair. "I'm so sorry, Maxwell. I'm sure she was an amazing wife and mother."
Max nodded in acknowledgment. "Yes, she was." He tried to keep the quiver out of his voice but to no avail. "It was so sudden. Her death really hit me hard. I still don't think I've fully recovered yet."
"I know you'll get through this, Max. You just have to stay strong." Fran took hold of one of Max's hands and gave it a gentle squeeze. Her touch sent a shiver down his spine and before he could stop himself he reciprocated her gesture. Then a silence fell between them, and they just stood there looking at each other, hands still clasped together. Soon they were lost in each other's eyes, oblivious to the hushed conversations around them.
Fran couldn't tear her gaze from his mesmerizing olive green eyes. She could feel the heat radiating from his body and the quiet breaths as he exhaled. Were they shifting closer to each other? Oy, he smelled good, she thought. What cologne was he wearing? And then she felt him take her other hand. She wanted to pull away, knowing John could walk over at any time, but she felt powerless to do so.
"You look beautiful, Fran," he said, gazing up and down the length of her red gown. "The most beautiful woman in the room."
Fran was speechless. She didn't know how to respond. She could tell he was coming on to her, but still, she didn't pull away. She didn't want to lose his touch; it was comforting.
"Max, I . . ." she stumbled to come up with something to say.
"Maxwell, the play is exquisite," he heard CC reply behind him. He was pulled from his reverie and quickly let go of Fran's hands, instantly missing the warmth of her soft skin against his.
"Oh, uh, CC, this is Fran Fine," Maxwell said, introducing Fran. "We met at the benefit last week." The two women didn't shake hands, just politely smiled and nodded at each other. "Fran, this is my business partner, CC."
"Well I hope Maxwell hasn't been talking your ear off about our play," CC said, siding up against Max, linking her arm through his. "I don't want him to spoil it for you."
Fran remained polite and civil, but she could tell that CC was not happy with her talking to Maxwell. "He's been a perfect gentleman." She gave him her best smile, and his eyes conveyed back to her that he was sorry about CC's interruption. It was then that John returned and he possessively wrapped an arm around Fran's waist, having witnessed the brief closeness between Max and the woman he loved.
"Hey, Max," he said in that casual way that Maxwell wasn't used to. "Great play so far. Fran and I are really enjoying it."
"Thank you. Fran was just telling me how much she likes it so far." Max noticed John's facial expression slightly change and his eyes shift to CC next to him. "Oh, this is CC, my business partner."
"CC Babcock." CC shook John's hand triumphantly, reassured that Fran was taken and no longer a threat to her.
"John Stevenson, nice to meet you."
Before they knew it, an echoed chime came over the intercom, signaling that the play would resume.
Maxwell had to think fast. He knew that he wouldn't get a chance to speak with Fran after the play was over. He wasn't done getting to know her yet, but he couldn't come out and say when can I see you again? right in front of her fiancé. No, that was definitely not an option. So he reached into his jacket and pulled out one of his business cards.
"Here," Max said, handing Fran his card. "In case there's ever a show or musical you can't get tickets to. I'd be happy to help you out."
Fran put the card in her matching red handbag and smiled at him. "Thank you, Maxwell, again for the tickets tonight. John and I don't get the chance to go out to the theater very often."
"The pleasure was all mine. I'm glad you've enjoyed it so far. It was great seeing you both again," he addressed the couple before they headed back to their seats. He watched them walk away, once again feeling the loneliness creep back inside his heart.
CC pulled him away from his spot and he had to resist the urge to jerk away from her and run and find Fran. His head was already filled with thoughts of her that he couldn't get rid of. What was he going to do? He had to see her again, even if he knew it wasn't the right thing to do. He couldn't just let her walk out of his life without ever having the chance to get to know her. She brought an energy with her he didn't even know he needed until he met her. He might not admit it out loud, but he needed her in his life just as much as he needed oxygen to live.
After the play ended Maxwell didn't see either Fran or John. He and CC were too busy with post-play interviews for reporters and posing for photographers. But now that he was home he could finally relax to some degree.
He ended up in his office, slumped in his chair behind his desk, nursing the glass of brandy he requested. He swirled the amber liquid and cubes of ice around in the glass, thinking about his play and Fran. From the turnout of opening night he was sure his play was a success. But that was just the first performance, there's plenty more opportunities for critics to find fault, he reminded himself. At this point he could care less about theater critics. He finally met a woman he thought could make him happy and what'd ya know, she's engaged. Unavailable, off-limits, just his luck, or bad timing - whatever. He needed to get his head back on straight.
He let out a tired sigh, glancing down at his watch. It was one in the morning and he was still dressed for a night out. He hadn't even bothered to loosen his tie yet. Oh well, he had other things to worry about.
A quick, firm knock on his office door caused Max to sit up straight. Niles breezed into his office, dressed for bed, sleep still evident in his eyes. "Sir," he began, "you need to get some rest. It's not healthy to be up this late for a month straight."
"Thank you for the concern, Niles, but I'm afraid I won't sleep a wink. I just have too much on my mind."
"Please don't tell me it's Miss Babcock. Or else I'd have to wash out that mind of yours with bleach. And you know I hate to clean at this late hour."
Maxwell looked up and smiled. He was lucky he had such a close friend like Niles. He always knew the perfect thing to say, even if he was a bit too nosey and sarcastic.
"No, it's not Miss Babcock. It's . . ." He was about to mention Fran but decided against it. He wasn't in the mood or right mind to spill his heart out to his butler at one in the morning. "It's nothing to worry over right now. You're right. I should head to bed." He placed his empty glass on the silver tray on the edge of his desk and stood up.
"Unh-uh," Niles shook his head. "Sit down. I did not wake up from the most wonderful dream only to see that you don't require my services. Now talk."
Maxwell stood still, shocked at the blatant outburst. So like a child obeying his parents, Maxwell sat back down in his chair. He ran his hands through his unruly hair. "I don't know where to start, Niles. At the part where I can't stop thinking about her or the part where she's engaged?"
Niles almost doubled over. Did he say 'she'? "Excuse me, sir, she?"
Maxwell glanced up at Niles' stunned face. "What? Oh. Just this woman I met at that benefit last week."
"And?" Niles was giddy on the inside. He couldn't believe that Mr. Sheffield had put himself out there and actually met someone. Suddenly this was much better than that dream he was having.
"And, so what?" Max grumbled. Off Niles' look, "Oh, please, Niles, it's not what you think. We haven't known each other that long."
"But-but, sir, isn't this a good thing? Putting yourself out there?"
"Not when she's engaged to be married, it's not!" Maxwell sat back in his chair, trying to remain calm. "I suppose it's for the best though," he sighed. "It probably wouldn't have worked out in the long run. But she's just . . ." Max let his face soften and his lips curl into a smile.
Niles couldn't help but smile either. "Just what, sir?" He rolled his eyes, thankful that his boss didn't notice. It was like pulling teeth with him. Ever so gently you had to wiggle it out of him.
"She's just everything, Niles. I feel things for her I haven't felt since Sara. And I don't want those feelings to disappear." Why was he being so open? Maybe the fact that three glasses of brandy was helping him loosen up about his emotions? Either way, Maxwell said it. And that was that. "I like her, Niles. I really do, but she's engaged. I-I want to be happy again. What should I do?"
Niles continued to smile, feeling so proud that his repressed employer was finally coming out of his shell. And from the desperate look in Max's eyes he knew he would do anything to see him be his happy self again. "Why don't you tell her what you told me?" Max gave Niles a look. "Now wait, I'm not saying she'd leave her fiancé for you, but she at least has the right to know that someone cares about her."
"I suppose you're right, Niles. She'd never call off her engagement. And that's alright with me, I can live with that. I just don't want her to disappear from my life. There's something between us, I can feel it. And if it's just friendship, then so be it. I'll be happy anyway." Maxwell stood up and moved around his desk.
"That's the spirit, sir." Niles patted Max on the shoulder as he passed. "Even if it doesn't turn out how you planned, you'll know that you tried."
"Thank you, Niles. I appreciate it. Except, now I know I won't be able to get to sleep." Max chuckled then left his office, loosening his tie on the way out.
Niles watched his employer leave the office. He'd never witnessed such a change in Mr. Sheffield. He noticed the same thing with the children a week ago. What was in the air of New York City these days? he wondered. He smiled to himself, thinking of a good one-liner he'd like to give Miss Babcock. It can wait till tomorrow, he thought, then turned off the lights.
