1
There was something about Manhattan in the spring that made Fran hopeful. For the first time in months, people shed their parkas and winter boots and began to look more like humans than abominable snowmen. Also, it meant that she could return to her 'cute' wardrobe, instead of feeling trapped in twenty-something layers. Indeed, spring was a good time of year.
Making her way past the hot dog vendor, she made a mental note to stop on her way back. A girl needed sustenance, of course, but this was her daily ritual, and straying too far off the beaten path was unacceptable. This time, the hour between 12 and 1, was her opportunity to check out the local-area businessmen who went to the park for their lunch break. How could it be any better than this? She could spend some time enjoying the finest New York season, and she could meet a wonderful man. Or at least, she hoped the potential was there.
Sitting on her favorite bench, with a prime view of one of the many park entrances, Fran pulled out a magazine and began to pretend to read. This was her system, and even if it was partially flawed (it did, after all, require the men to approach her, which as she had long discovered, was a vastly uncertain variable), Fran held to it religiously. It was, after all, the best-laid plan she could muster, without blatantly taking out a personal ad - not that she was far off.
Holding her magazine just below eye level, she began to scan the park. This season she had promised herself would be the one; she could only hope that her mazel came through for her. To help her mazel on the way, just in case things didn't move along pleasantly enough of their own volition, she had chosen particularly appealing clothes: a small black and red-checkered miniskirt and a red ruffled vest. Instead of her trademark winter boots that she loved, she chose strappy black leather sandals with a sizeable heal. If the guys weren't falling over her today, she prayed it was because they were all blind.
The early crowd of men and women seemed to be the drab-dressed commercial crowd. Fran had become a relative expert on where people likely worked, based on their wardrobe, and the wardrobe of those around them. This first group was wearing variations of business casual, but not nicely made ones of good quality; no, these people were definitely from the shops on 54th street. So far, the day was proving to be a bust.
There was a glimmer of hope, however, when a parade of men in Harry Rosen walked through the gates. It looked like there might be something to choose from, if only they weren't walking so close... So close, in fact, that Fran began to wonder. And then it happened: as if on cue, the minute they walked through the park entrance, each man grabbed the hand of the man next to him.
"Damn," Fran muttered. Of course they were gay - they were dressed well, attractive, and in the company of several other men. So far things were looking abysmal.
"Checking out the scene," the pretty blonde woman beside her asked.
Fran nodded, and dropped her magazine enough to see the other woman. "You know, 'tis the season..."
"Mating, that is, right?" The woman laughed, and watched as the men Fran had been watching appeared to acquire instantaneous flamboyant gestures. "Never fails. All the good ones are gay."
"You're tellin' me. Or widowed." Fran didn't realize her slip until it was too late, but no matter; this woman had no clue as to who she was.
"Uh, sure." After a moment of awkward silence, the woman turned her attention back to Fran. "I'm Lois, by the way..."
"Oh, hey Lois. I'm Fran." Smiling, Fran accepted the extended hand. "Are you checking out the spring collection too?"
Lois shook her head. "I find I have better luck if I just don't think about it," she explained. "Which, when you think about it, probably explains why I'm thirty-two and single."
Fran laughed. "Oh, I'm not far behind you."
Lois just looked at her questioningly, and then decided to let it slip. It was something of a social responsibility for a lady to lie about her age, and though the concept was lost on Lois, there was no great surprise to her when those around her partook in the age-old activity. "I'm taking a long lunch - decided to wander down this way and pray to get hit by a bus on my way back to work," she said, changing topics. The sarcasm in her voice carried very well, and Fran guessed that the poor woman must have been having a very bad day.
"Oh, work must be a real laugh-riot," Fran commented, horrified.
"Studio work is always a little hairy. Never fails to keep you jumping." Lois picked up her bottle of Evian, and took a long swig. "Meanwhile, my personal assistant just about had a coronary when I left my cell phone, my laptop, and my pager at the office."
Laughing, Fran thought about how they were in two totally different worlds. Her life was simplified, with her only real commitments commencing after school hours. After all, waking up in the morning and helping the kids on their way to school wasn't exactly a barrel of stress, and once they left, she was on her own for the day. "I don't even remember the cell phone number for the phone my boss gave me. I have the damn thing somewhere, but mostly I use it to prop open my bedroom door.
It was Lois' turn to laugh; a cell phone was a very expensive doorstop. "You work in the industry?"
"Industry?" Fran tried not to look completely dumbfounded, but the question caught her entirely off-guard.
"You know, in television?"
Fran laughed hysterically. "I'm a nanny," she explained. "My boss produces on Broadway, and I've memorized the TV Guide - that's as close to 'the industry' as I'll ever get."
Sighing, Lois gave Fran the once-over. She seemed like a nice person, and definitely her appearance didn't scream 'Nanny'. Then again, this could also be her 'pulling' outfit, seeing as she was in the park with a very express purpose. "You're lucky. I bet you actually get to have a life. I can't imagine why you're sitting in the park looking for men."
"Because men don't just fall in your lap. And if they do, that means you don't want 'em. He's probably drunk."
"Ah, a native New Yorker!"
Fran nodded. "I'm from Flushing."
"Don't hate me; I'm from Connecticut. New Haven, actually." Lois thought about the personality of the woman beside her and wondered what made her feel such an instant connection.
"Hate you? Hardly," Fran said kindly, before looking up at the park gate again. "Looks like today is gonna be a dead loss on guys."
"Do you usually have any success?" The concept of picking up men in the park intrigued Lois. There were so many men around, and if you could meet men in the grocery down the block, there was no reason you shouldn't run into a handsome single man at the park, right? Of course, what Fran was doing was a little more contrived than just running in to men, and spending your day on the look-out seemed more frustrating than rewarding if you weren't going to get some kind of gratification.
"Not really, but sometimes there's something worth seeing. Today's crowd is just crappy."
Lois laughed. "This is a daily thing, then, I take it?"
Fran nodded. "Daily makes it sound so desperate. I prefer to think of it as a recreational sport."
"Like scuba diving, but for men?"
"And I prefer not to equate it with oxygen tanks - that'd be my first sign I'm lookin' for the wrong kind of guy," Fran said pointedly. "I prefer my men to be able to breathe on their own!"
"Hallelujah to that, sister!" Giggling, Lois picked up her bottle of water and her purse. "I should head back, before a search party gets sent out for me, and I end up having to be heli-lifted back to the studios, but will you be here tomorrow?"
"Like clockwork, from 12 'til 1."
"Great. Would you mind if I come back and we can chat again?"
Fran smiled sweetly. "I'd like that - looks like this spring is gonna be another flop for men anyway, I might as well make a new friend."
"Wonderful," Lois said, sincerely. "I'll see you here tomorrow." Walking away, Lois turned back to Fran once more to wave goodbye.
As she was leaving, Fran looked her over in the typical female competition way. Lois was attractive - very attractive - with shoulder length blonde hair and stunning green eyes. Her skin was very fair alabaster, and she was very voluptuous. All in all, normally Fran would feel a degree of threatened by someone with her beauty, but she wasn't. For once, Fran could discern that this woman was different than the rest, and anyone who would fall for Lois, wouldn't be interested in Fran. This, Fran thought, could be the start of a wonderful friendship.
"Good luck with your assistant," Fran called after her, already kicking into Yenta mode.
2
Fran and Lois began meeting at the park several times a week. The worthwhile/single male population seemed down this spring, which although it was disappointing to Fran, wasn't as earth shattering as it might have been had she not made a new friend on the way. Instead, Fran felt fortunate enough to have someone to talk with outside of the house and who wasn't Val or her mother. Instead of having monosyllabic conversations, she was able to converse with another adult. Granted, sometimes the conversation left her realm of comfort, but Fran had realized that Lois didn't look down on her; this was the first friendship she had with someone that made her feel like a genuine adult.
Well, Fran thought, maybe this was the second person...Niles had always been wonderful to her, and never made her feel intentionally stupid. For a man of his brilliance, it would have been easy for him to make her feel inferior, but he never did.
The thought of her brilliant, handsome friend, and her new attractive studio-executive friend had started wheels spinning for Fran. Maybe love wouldn't bloom for her this spring, but maybe she could help her friends out on their way. What's more, one good deed doesn't go unnoticed and maybe someone out there would do the same for her.
"Do you think there's someone for everyone," Fran asked, wistfully.
"Most definitely. My someone, knowing my luck, is ship-wrecked on an island somewhere." Lois laughed. "Your someone is around, I'm sure."
Fran shrugged. "I'm glad you're sure, 'cause I'm not."
"What about your elusive Mr. Sheffield? He sounds dreamy." Using a word like dreamy wasn't really Lois' thing, but it seemed like the right way to describe the man of whom she had heard many interesting things. From the picture Fran painted, he was debonair, and passionate, as well as warm and giving. The only problem was that, again from what Fran had told her, he had a problem being all those things with her.
"I'm the nanny. There are some things that just mean trouble."
"Hardly! If he's that stuck up that a class distinction - a rather archaic one at that - is going to stop him from loving you, he's an idiot!"
Fran smiled. Maybe this was going better than she thought. "So you'd date someone who was... of a different class than you are?"
"Honey, do you have any clue how hard it is to find a man?" Lois looked at Fran, who was giving her a pointed 'duh' expression. "What was I thinking...? When a good one comes along, you've got to just grab him."
"And hope you don't get arrested!" Fran said with a mischievous wink.
"Ok, so maybe not literally grab him; sometimes I think you're out to get me in trouble," Lois teased. "What I mean is, if there's hope, why not try something a little different than you might normally?"
"Great. So, ya wanna go out on a date with my friend?"
Lois was blind-sided by the sudden change of direction. How did it become about her suddenly? "Excuse me?"
"My friend Niles. He's great! You'll love him. He's handsome, and well educated, and has a great accent."
"An accent? Is that all it takes to turn you on," Lois asked teasingly.
"Among other things. But Niles is like…Sir Lawrence Olivier with a duster." Fran laughed, unsure how to best 'sell' her friend.
"A duster?"
"He works for Mr. Sheffield as well – he's the butler," Fran said. She had certainly mentioned him over the course of their last few lunch hours in the park, but trying to remember everyone's name was likely quite difficult for poor Lois.
"Is he the would-be singer?"
"Yeah, and he's brilliant too!"
Lois thought it over for a second. After all, what did she have to lose? Then again, she thought, if it didn't work out with Niles, as per 100 of her romantic relationships so far, then what would happen to her blossoming friendship with Fran?
"Ya already said that 'class'," Fran said, making pretentious quotation marks in the air, "didn't matter." She hoped she wasn't too far off the mark on this one. Both Lois and Niles needed a little fun in their lives.
"I'm not worried about that," Lois mumbled. "Are you sure he's my type?"
Fran shrugged. "What's your type?"
"Stoic and handsome. He's got to have big hands, and a personality to boot. Oh, and he's got to be funny; I spend all day with boring men. For once I want to date a man who knows how to have a little fun. Ah, hell, who am I kidding? Alive is a great start in the right direction!" Lois looked off and around the park, wishing that for once someone, just anyone, would seem right for her. More than a decade of dating the wrong men had made her wonder if there was any hope left for her.
"Well, then it's perfect. Niles is everything you're looking for and a killer cook too! He definitely has a pulse," Fran said enticingly.
"If he's so great, why's he still single?" It wasn't that she didn't trust her new friend, she rationalized, but pessimism was as much a part of the dating world as was the obligatory nervousness.
"Why haven't we met our perfect men?" Fran hoped that Lois would at least give Niles a chance. This, she thought, had great potential for two of her friends, and if this didn't work, she wasn't sure what she'd do next.
"You're tricky," Lois remarked, though she could appreciate her friend's conniving ways.
"Oh, and here I thought I was just being my typical helpful self," Fran said innocently.
"Helpful? Ok, you keep telling yourself that you're not a big ol' Yenta, and I'll let you keep pretending. In the meantime, though, I have to go to work." Lois stood and adjusted her purse on her shoulder. "Do you think Niles is going to want to go out with me?"
"What makes you think I've not told him already?"
Lois laughed. "You haven't told him, I know you. You were feeling me out first."
"I'm an open book," Fran said dramatically. Her theatrics were endearing to most people, and for those who didn't enjoy them, she often found they distracted from her overall sense of self-doubt. Either way, she figured, it was win-win.
"So you'll call me and let me know what happens? I mean, assuming you decide to tell me before lunch tomorrow – I'm not sure I can stand the excitement of waiting for my perfect man to call me," Lois said sarcastically.
"Hardee-har-har…Just sit by your phone," Fran instructed, though the attempt at authoritarianism was lost when she laughed.
"Oh yeah, I'll do that," Lois said, before making her way back to the office. Sometimes the day only got stranger and stranger.
"Honey, I'm home," Fran said, hanging her light spring jacket up on the coat hook in the hall closet.
"Did you bring the mariachi band," Niles asked, appearing from around the corner, behind the winding staircase.
Fran looked at him, stunned and confused. "Huh?"
"I felt suddenly like I was on an episode of 'I Love Lucy'," he explained, smiling. "But I see you're all grins and giggles today, so kind of trouble are we in?"
Fran shrugged. "Trouble? None. Why'd you think that?"
"Because I can tell when you're suddenly about to make me your very own Ethel Mertz," he remarked casually. "And as much fun as I think we'd have stomping grapes together, I fear what you might actually have gotten us into now."
"Why must you always assume I got us into trouble? Maybe I'm just in a good mood, did you ever consider that?" Fran tried to be offended, but truth be told, she had gotten them into something…so what if it wasn't the kind of something he was expecting?
"There was a fleeting moment before you opened your mouth that day you arrived at the house selling make up – that day, I assumed you were really quite sweet and innocent. I've since learned that's oh-so-rarely the case," Niles joked. As much as he teased her, she was his best friend, and they spent most of their time thinking of ways to get into trouble.
"Well see if I ever try to do you a favor again," Fran complained. That's what she got for trying to set up her best friend with a beautiful, rich woman.
Niles eyed his friend suspiciously. "What kind of favor where you trying to do," he asked, slightly nervous of what answer she might provide him.
"Well, my friend Lois," Fran began.
"The woman you met in the park?"
"Yeah. She's wonderful Niles, and you know, she's still single, and you're single, and I thought maybe…" A sweet smile crossed her face. "I was thinking you'd be wonderful for each other."
"You're serious, aren't you?" Niles looked at his friend worriedly.
"Completely. She's interested in meeting you," Fran said, heading him off at the pass. If she let him think about it too much, it would likely blow up in all of their faces. "She thinks you sound like quite the catch."
Niles sighed. Dating was never priority one for him. Most women just didn't appeal much beyond the physical, in that they'd be beautiful, but then on a date they'd bore him silly. The demure behavior that most women shared with him, whether it was a show for their date, or their real personalities, was just not what he liked to think of as his 'style'. "You already talked to her about it?"
"Yes, and I think she's really interested. She'd be heartbroken if you decided not to go out with her." Laying on the guilt was an acquired skill, which she had learned from her mother and now the expertise was coming in remarkably handy.
"Is she boring?"
Fran shook her head. "You'll love her. She's smart, and funny, and she's got attitude…"
"So, you're sending me on a date with Sally Jessie Raphael?"
Fran laughed at the image. "She's beautiful," she assured him.
Niles nodded, finally conceding defeat. It seemed that waiting for the woman of his dreams hadn't done anything for him yet, except make him twenty years older and more bitter. If anything, waiting on that woman had driven him to near insanity on more than one occasion, and getting out there back into the world of dating might do him some good. Not that he was going to tell that to Fran, though. Still, even though he had never had more than a kiss and witty banter with CC, he felt like he was about to cheat on her; perhaps that was one more reason he had to do this.
"You won't regret this, Niles," Fran called back, as she ran up the stairs. "I'll make all the arrangements. All you have to do is show up."
Niles sighed. Why did he always let her get him into these things?
3
Niles felt strange asking Mr. Sheffield for a night off, but Fran assured him that she had already laid the groundwork, and the only real concern was getting Mr. Sheffield to give him the following morning off as well. Niles didn't laugh, but he had to admit that he didn't dislike Fran's optimism.
As he entered the office, he realized that she was there, and it would be so much easier if she weren't. But who was he kidding? It was a business day and of course CC would be there; she worked there.
"Niles, I was wondering if you've finalized the menu for the banquet at the end of the month," Max asked, not even looking up from the papers he was studying.
"It's been finalized since last week, Sir, and the caterers are making a sample menu for you to try at the end of this week."
CC flipped the page of the script she was reading and then looked up. "I still can't believe you let him choose the food, Maxwell. Knowing him, he'll think 'pigs in a blanket' are a suitable appetizer."
Glaring at her, Niles decided he might as well get one jab in. "Why not? They're ok to date but not to eat?"
CC opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, Maxwell was interrupting her.
"Would you two knock it off?" Looking at his butler and dear friend, Max wished that there could be some truce called. It seemed that CC and Niles spent more time insulting each other than working, and aside from the fact they were both his employees, he found it discouraging to constantly hear two such brilliant people insulting each other.
"She started it," Niles pointed out. "I merely came here to ask a question."
"Well, get on with it, Tidy Bowl, we've got work to do," CC said, before beginning to read the next page.
"I was wondering, Sir, if you would mind terribly if I took this evening off."
Max looked at his friend, somewhat shocked by the question. Niles never took time off, let alone asked for evenings off.
"It would seem that Miss Fine has set me up on a blind date for this evening, and she said she'd cover me by taking the kids out to dinner." Niles found himself stepping from side to side, though as discretely as possible. This was not how he had intended to ask, but the pressure of CC sitting behind him had thrown him off his game.
"Ah, well, a blind date – that explains it; she hasn't seen you yet," CC quipped.
"CC," Maxwell warned. "Niles, I'm … surprised! But if you want to do this, then go ahead, and let me know how it goes," he said with a devilish grin.
"Thank you, Sir." Turning, he looked at CC sitting on the couch, and could tell she was trying not to look up at him.
Why were they playing this game after twenty years? Why were they still tiptoeing around each other? He had made his move, many years ago, and she had shot him down, and yet he still felt this undeniable connection to her. He still craved being near her, and more than anything he fought with her because that was his only way of coping with being so near to her. "Have a good night," he managed as he made his way to the door.
"You as well," Maxwell called after him. When his friend was gone from sight, Max took his glasses off and held them in his hand, smiling at the now-empty doorway.
"What?" CC looked at him, and noticed the cat-in-the-cream grin.
"I'm just thinking how wonderfully this could work out for him; I've not seen him go on a date in ages."
"It's a blind date," CC said coolly. "You can't seriously think this thing will work out well, can you?"
Maxwell shrugged. "Maybe it will be the push to get him back out into the dating world – not a bad thing, you know, CC."
CC cringed at the thought. It seemed that she and Niles had been doing the same dance for as long as they'd known each other, and the steps were getting somewhat predictable. This, however, was a new curve; he had never been the one to really do the 'dating' thing, and she had never had to watch from the sidelines before. If this was how it was going to be, she seriously debated the merits of finding herself a distraction, but the moment passed when she realized how much heartache dating usually brought, and she returned her attention to the script in her hands.
Niles couldn't believe he was going on a date, let alone with someone he had never met before. It was easier to think of this as a favor to Fran than to consider it with any degree of seriousness, he decided.
Walking through the doors of the restaurant, he hoped he hadn't chosen clothes too casual for the environment. It had been years since he had a real date, and the things he had lately were more what he'd call dinner with acquaintances. Still, looking around the restaurant, he realized that Fran had chosen well. The ambiance was set by low-lit candles and small torch-like fixtures on the walls, as well as deep reds and blues which lined the walls and tables.
As he approached the maitre-d', Niles hoped that he was the first to arrive so that he could somehow work up the courage for the evening. It wouldn't take much, he rationalized, but a good stiff drink would help him on his way to surviving the night. "Reservation under Fine, thank you."
The older man in the black suit nodded and checked something off in his book. "This way, Sir."
Niles felt out of place; he was well accustomed to posh events, and even the occasional party, but usually he was working them, not attending them. This restaurant was a nice enough venue that it made him wonder if everyone around him knew that he was just a lowly butler.
"Your table, Sir. Would you like me to have a drink sent over?"
Niles nodded. "May I get a scotch on the rocks, please," he asked calmly, appraising the room around him.
"Most definitely, Sir. When the lady arrives, I'll bring her over." He quickly enough disappeared back across the room, leaving Niles to consider the situation in which he found himself.
The table at which he was seated was at the back and tucked into an intimate corner. The lighting was slightly dimmer there, and he said a silent thank-you to whoever was making this evening start so well. Dim lighting, he reasoned, would be more flattering and the secluded table promised that if anything went very wrong over the course of the night, that he'd be able to maintain his pride in relative tact.
"Niles," he heard a soft and feminine voice ask. Looking up, he was stunned by the vision of beauty he saw. Wearing a long black dress with champagne-colored lace trimming the hem, she looked like something out of a magazine. She was curvy in all the right places, but still slim, with incredible soft features.
"Ye…yes," he managed, feeling like a complete moron. Suddenly his mind turned to that of a 12 year old, as his eyes wandered over the curves of her body.
"I'm Lois," she said sweetly, extending her hand to him. She was impressed – very impressed – by the man who sat at the table. He was obviously older, but very handsome, and he appeared to be in pretty good shape. The kindness of his smile made her feel instantly at ease, and more than a little smitten.
Niles accepted her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you." Still unable to take his eyes away from the beautiful woman in front of him, Niles moved to pull the chair out for her.
"Fran didn't tell me you were so handsome," Lois said nervously, before realizing how stupid that must have sounded. "I mean she told me you were attractive, but…" She looked at his piercing blue eyes, and felt them staring at her; he had the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen.
"Fran is well accustomed to exaggerating," he began, "so I wasn't sure what to expect, but I assure you that she did you justice."
Lois blushed at the kindness of his words. "So, then you're not going to climb out the men's room window in a few minutes to escape me?"
"I think I'll stay," he said sweetly. He liked her pointed-truth, and the way she seemed just as insecure as he was. It was a refreshing change to not feel as if the date had started so badly that he'd have to make excuses, and better yet that he was already considering a second date.
"Wonderful. I'd like that." Lois smiled softly as she examined him, carefully noting that he had amazing broad shoulders, and from under his sweater she could see a well-shaped chest.
"So, Fran tells me you work for a television studio?" He was attempting idle chitchat, in the hopes he wouldn't stare at her as blatantly, but the minute her lips started to move, he became addicted to staring at those as well.
"I work at CBS," she said, as if it were as normal as saying she drove an imported car. Then again, in Manhattan, most of the people you'd fall upon were somehow involved in the 'industry'; needless to say, you didn't need six-degrees of separation to come upon someone who knew someone who was someone or something.
"Have you been there long?"
"Since I finished college," Lois replied. "So, about six years. I would have been out sooner, but I did a second degree," she explained.
Niles nearly choked. He knew that she was a lovely, young woman, but wasn't this a little much? She was virtually a child.
Lois noticed his sudden discomfort. "It's aged me at least a decade," she said in an attempt to console him. Fran hadn't given her an exact number on Niles' age, except that he was in his fifties, and although it would normally have been a big turn-off, this time it seemed to be the opposite. This date – being with Niles – was about doing something totally different, and she suspected he was approaching it the same way.
"Only a few more to catch up to me, then, I suppose," he said as calmly as he could muster, though he took a long swig of his drink which had arrived sometime soon after she had.
"I'm pretty sure I can catch you," Lois said, her voice more sultry than before. It wasn't just a game, she realized, but she really was attracted to this man.
"Oh, I don't doubt it," he replied, wondering what she was doing. She was flirting with him, after all. This very young, very beautiful, and very successful woman was flirting with him. The most endearing relationship he had ever had with a woman had involved verbally abusing each other day in and out for decades, and here was this youthful, incredible woman flirting with him. That, he decided, was definitely a change, and one with which he could grow quite accustomed.
"Ah, a man who knows when to surrender, hmmm?"
Niles smiled, and wondered if now was the right time to put up the white flag and pray that she was a kind-hearted captor.