"646-895-1436." Max softly whispered it, creating a syncopated, numeric rhythm with each integer he uttered.
Holding the small, white card in his hand, he reread her name and number over and over in his head, until he felt he almost had it memorized. He just couldn't stop thinking about her. A part of him told him that it was wrong to think about another woman, but the other part found himself regularly fantasizing about her.
Once again, he glanced over at the phone sitting on the corner of his desk. For over an hour he mentally debated about whether he should call her or not. He had a pile of paper work sitting in front of him, but all he accomplished was reading the first word that stared back at him. He couldn't help it. She simply captivated him, making it difficult for him to concentrate on anything else.
"Maxwell!" his frustrated business partner bellowed.
Max looked up, pulling away from his daydream. "Hm?" he mumbled, still looking down at the card in his hand.
"I've only been gone for an hour. How can we still be behind on these contracts?"
Max knew exactly why they were behind. Ever since their last meeting a few days ago at the coffee shop, all he's been able to think about was her. He still remembers how wonderful her body felt against his when they hugged. While thinking about the forbidden curves of her body, his lips absently fell into a goofy, love struck grin.
"Maxwell, has something been on your mind lately, you seem so distracted?" CC asked, watching her partner nonchalantly rub his stubble-filled chin while dreamily gazing off in the distance.
"Yes, but not of you," Niles replied, approaching CC from behind, a sardonic smile forming across his lips.
CC rolled her eyes. "Don't you have a date with your feather duster?"
"At least my date doesn't have to be blown up," he shot back quickly.
"Maxwell!" CC whined. "Are you going to let him talk to me like that?"
Maxwell turned his not-so-full attention back to the bantering couple. He knew far too well that the antics Niles played on Miss Babcock was just his way of getting her attention. He never told him, of course. Niles would never believe it. He may have everyone in the house thinking he despised CC, but Max knew Niles better than anyone. And he could tell, that somewhere, under all that butler demeanor, Niles held a soft spot for Miss Babcock.
"CC! It's just his way. He doesn't mean any harm by it," Maxwell said, his smile reforming.
CC let out an exasperated sigh. She knew it was no use defending her point. "I'll let you get back to work then. See you tomorrow." She grabbed a stack of papers then turned and left the office.
Niles watched her leave and couldn't help the smile that escaped his lips. He loved torturing Miss Babcock, whether it be physically or verbally. It was just his hobby. Or was it? He pushed that sudden, terrifying thought out of his head and turned back to his distracted boss.
Niles knew exactly where his employer's thoughts had been lately. A few days ago Niles found a business card in one of Max's suits. Seeing that the card and number belonged to a woman he left it there for his boss to retrieve. He hasn't met this mystery woman yet, but from the distracted and dreamy features Mr. Sheffield seemed to display, he was sure this woman was something special.
Clearing his throat, Niles replied, "will there be anything else, sir?"
"No, thank you, Niles," Max answered, not making eye contact.
Niles smiled and turned on his heel. He couldn't wait to meet the woman occupying his boss's thoughts.
After a while, Max was able to get his mind back on track. He was nearly finished with the mountain of paperwork on his desk when a loud, long yawn escaped his throat. He didn't realize it was so late. He removed his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes. Standing from his chair he stretched his tired limbs, deciding to call it a night. He leisurely left his office in search of some much-needed sleep.
As he made his way down the second floor hallway, he noticed a light on underneath Gracie's bedroom door, causing one eyebrow to rise in curiosity. He lightly knocked, then slowly entered. There she was, sitting on the floor, playing with her dolls and multiple stuffed animals.
"Sweetheart, what are you doing out of bed?" Max asked, squatting down to Gracie's level.
Grace looked up at her father. "I'm not tired," she said, while vigorously brushing her doll's hair.
"Oh. Why not?"
"Because you didn't read me a bedtime story." Her voice was flat, as if she were stating it as a fact.
Max let out a sigh. Bedtime stories were the children's favorite when Sara was alive. It was something he and Sara did together with the children. He hasn't read them a story since her death, it was just too painful to do alone. But lately, he felt he needed to get rid of all this pain and sorrow he built around his heart. And his children seemed like the perfect antidote.
He scooped Gracie up in his arms, and together, they sat down on her bed. He watched Gracie lean over and pick her favorite book, Cinderella, up off the floor. You could tell the book has been read a countless number of times, as the spine and the front cover were filled with worn and torn edges.
"From the beginning?" Max asked, shifting himself into a more comfortable sitting position.
Gracie shook her head. She opened the book to her favorite part. "Here."
Max knew that Grace loved the ending; when Cinderella and the handsome prince live happily ever after. Something he sadly wasn't able to truly fulfill.
While he read the rest of the story he felt Grace relax in his arms. He looked down and could see she was falling asleep. She let out a tired yawn and gazed up into his eyes. "Daddy? I miss Mom," she said quietly.
Grace knew she was too young to distinctly remember her mother. But her older siblings were able to recall several happy memories of their family. She loved to listen to them talk about their mother, but only wished she could have been old enough to remember. The emptiness Grace felt, her father could not fill. The only ones who could were the imaginary figures her bright, young mind conjured up. She'd do anything to have it filled in again.
Looking down in her eyes, a single tear slid down Max's cheek. He wiped it away quickly and tightened his arms around his daughter. "I know. I miss her, too. So much."
"Will we ever have a mother again?"
After listening to Gracie's question, he wasn't sure. He hadn't thought about remarrying; mainly because he never wanted to. He made a vow, he couldn't break it. And neither could he break the walls he built around his heart. It already belonged to someone, whether she was there or not, forever. But somewhere, there seemed to be an opening, or crack, in those thick walls. Could it be, that that beautiful smile and unique voice he met captured his heart?
"I don't know, sweetheart."
"Well, we would if you met the right woman, right?"
"Grace," he sighed, "it's not that simple. I know you miss your mother, we all do. It's just. . . I don't think I'm ready for something like that, yet."
"You still love Mom don't you?"
"Of course I do. I always will."
"But do you love her enough to realize that she'd be happy for you, even if you did find someone?"
Where did that come from? he wondered. Grace always amazed him with her intellectual, philosophical statements. She was still young, but very smart for her age.
Max thought about what Gracie said for a moment. Was she right? Did he really think that Sara would disapprove if he decided to move on? He moved his hand down to his thigh, feeling the shape of her card in his pocket.
The room fell eerily silent, like in a horror movie; you're just waiting for that moment when something jumps out at you. After finally drawing away from the silence, Max placed the book on her nightstand then climbed off the bed. He pulled the covers up to Grace's chin and left a kiss on her forehead.
"I think it's time we go back to bed. Goodnight, sweetheart," he said softly, tucking her in.
"Goodnight, Daddy," Grace sleepily replied back. "I love you."
Max's heart melted at his daughter's words. "I love you, too." He leaned down and kissed her forehead once more before silently slipping out of her room.
Coming out of the bathroom ready for bed, Max still held Fran's business card in his hand. He had retrieved it earlier from his pocket before changing out of his clothes. He looked down at it once more, repeating her name and number in his head. He placed the card on his nightstand and settled himself in bed. Once his head hit the soft, plush pillow, his only thoughts and dreams were of her, and how determined he was to hear her voice the next day. But Grace's question (or statement rather) still lingered at the back of his mind, waiting to be answered:
"But do you love her enough to realize that she'd be happy for you, even if you did find someone?"
To be continued