Fran sat at a table near the center of the food court picking at the chocolate dipped macaroon in front of her. She left the Sheffield mansion intent on drowning her sorrows in a shopping spree but none of the Christmas sales perked her up.
She popped a piece of the coconut cookie in her mouth and sighed. Her life with Maxwell had become too complicated and its complexity began to weigh her down. It was never a secret that he wanted her; the way he held her and kissed her spoke volumes of his desire for her, more than anything he could ever say.
Deep down, she knew he loved her. Fran had endlessly replayed their evening together in her head. A smoldering desire for him infused in her soul under the soft slow caress of his lips upon hers.
She closed her eyes; the memory of his hand molding itself to the curve of her waist haunted her. Fran's breath caught. The sensation of his fingers moving up her body seemed all too real.
Stop torturing yourself Fran! Reminiscing about that night won't do you any good. Nothing's going to change. Leave it in the past!
"Fran?"
Her eyes snapped open, surprised by the gentle baritone voice. She smiled at the man in front of her, wondering how long he had been standing there.
"What are you doing here?"
"I was out. Wandering around really. As I was about to leave, I spotted you. How are you Fran?"
"I've been better."
He glanced down at the partially eaten cookie. "What's bothering you?"
"Why do you think something's bothering me?"
"There's three quarters of a chocolate dipped macaroon sitting in front of you."
Fran laughed. "You know me too well." She glanced down then looked at her companion as he slid into the empty chair across from her. "How are you Doug?"
"I've been okay. I've missed you. Sometimes I think if I hadn't been such a schmuck, we could have still been together."
"You weren't a schmuck Doug. You were a putz."
"Ah, yes. I stand corrected."
"I don't know if you realize it or not but you're not standing."
"I was wondering why I felt so short!"
His eyes flickered over Fran as her face lit up with laughter. Running his fingers through his sandy blond hair, Doug smiled at her.
"Fran Fine, are you flirting with me?"
"No! I'm not – " She paused then greeted him with a smile. "Yeah, I guess I am. A little."
"Are you seeing anyone?"
"No…not really."
"You hesitated. What's going on Fran?"
Picking at the edge of her cookie, Fran shrugged. "It's a bit complicated." As he opened his mouth to speak, she reached across the table and placed her finger over his mouth. "I'll explain. No, I'm not currently seeing anyone."
"But there's someone you're interested in?"
Fran nodded. "I'm not sure he's interested in me. At least personally."
"Who is it?"
"My boss."
"Maxwell Sheffield, right?"
"Yes."
Doug's eyes shifted downward, watching the rhythmic drumming of his fingers on the table. He slowly lifted his eyes and met her soft gaze.
"I don't mean to pry but what's going on with you two? Are you involved with him Fran?"
"No, not like that. We've become good friends over the past five years. I care for him and he cares for me. I love his kids as if they were my own."
Doug cocked his head to the side and studied Fran. He watched her head drop, attempting to veil the strong emotions reflected in her eyes.
"You're in love with him aren't you?"
"I could lie and deny it," she said popping another piece of cookie in her mouth, "but what would be the point?"
"Have you told him?"
"You mean have I marched into his office and openly confessed my undying love?" Fran shook her head. "No. That's not exactly my style."
"What about him? How does he feel about you?"
"I'm not really sure. Our relationship is…convoluted."
He looked at Fran with a sideways glance then gave her a mischievous smile.
"And something you don't want to discuss?"
"Not really."
"I don't want to confuse you but I miss you Fran."
"Doug, – "
"At least hear me out. You were the best thing that happened to me and I was foolish enough to let you slip through my fingers. I don't want to complicate your life any further but if it's possible, I'd like to have another chance."
"I don't know Doug. So much has happened since then."
"Would you consider giving me another chance?"
He could read the hesitation in her eyes. Without giving her a chance to think, Doug took her hand.
"What do you say? Hopefully, it'll give me an opportunity to kiss those infamous lips painted Cadillac Red."
"Doug!" Fran replied swatting his arm. "You're terrible."
"At least think about it Fran."
Fran studied the man sitting across from her. Doug was earthy, accessible, and real.
"Is your number the same?"
"Unlike me, the number hasn't changed."
Maybe Doug is a sign. He may not be Maxwell Sheffield but it's apparent that I need to get over him and move on with my life.
Glancing down at her watch, she gasped in shock. "I didn't realize it was this late! I need to get home."
He stood and helped her with her coat. "Will you call me Fran?"
"Yes Doug, I promise I'll call you."
Niles stepped into the living room just as the doorbell rang. He could see a tall blond pacing outside the portico. From the brief glimpses of the passing figure, Niles hoped it was his nemesis fully recovered from her illness but realized it was a man.
How can I be sure? After all, the test results aren't back yet.
He wiped the smirk from his face and pulled the door open. Niles recognized the man that entered the house immediately. Doug Abrams was the last person he ever expected to cross the Sheffield threshold.
"Good evening. I'm here to pick up Fran."
"Just a moment Mr. Abrams."
Niles ignored the shocked expression that crossed Doug's face as he headed up the staircase. Reaching Fran's room, he took a deep breath then lightly tapped on the door. When he heard the rattle of the doorknob, Niles took a step back.
"Your date is here Ms. Fine."
"Would you tell him I'll be down in a few minutes?"
"If I must."
"What are you PMS'ing?"
"Why is he here?"
"Doug is my date. That's why he's here."
"Ms. Fine, I don't understand. I thought your relationship with Mr. Sheffield was progressing."
"Niles, I've come to realize that Mr. Sheffield, for whatever reason, can't or won't commit to a relationship with me other than friendship. It's time that I stop hoping and wishing that he'll come around and move on with my life."
"But Ms. Fine, you broke up with Mr. Abrams. Why would you start dating him again?"
Fran sighed. Leaning against the frame of the door, she folded her arms across her chest and looked into her friend's eyes.
"I broke up with Doug because things in his life were in disarray and I had no place in it. Although we went our separate ways, he is still a good friend. Too many times, I've let my feelings for Mr. Sheffield stand in the way of my relationships. I'm not going to do that anymore. I'm not pinning all my hopes for an everlasting relationship on Doug. We're just two friends going out. But if something happens between us, I'm not going to stop it."
Niles nodded solemnly. "Very well Ms. Fine. I'll let Mr. Abrams know that you'll be ready in a few minutes."
It was nearly ten o'clock as Doug drove through Manhattan. Easing the metallic blue Mustang along the semi-deserted streets, he parked the car across from the Sheffield mansion. Shutting off the motor, he turned to face Fran.
"I had a good time tonight."
"Me too. It was a really good movie."
"You weren't watching the movie, you were watching Tom Cruise."
"That's not fair Doug. I did both."
He laughed, lacing their fingers together. Bringing her hand to his lips, Doug left a gentle kiss there and smiled.
"When can I see you again?"
"Honestly I don't know. It's getting closer to the holidays and I'm usually with my family."
"Not that I'm adding any pressure but Christmas and Hanukkah aren't that far away. My window of opportunity is closing before familial and work related obligations get in the way."
"I don't look at my time with the Sheffields as an obligation. They're my family too."
"I'm sorry. I know how highly you think of them. I just meant that hopefully I can look forward to another date with the fabulous Fran Fine."
"Maybe. I'll have to get back with you. Is that okay?"
"Sure. Like I said no pressure. Come on, I'll walk you home."
"Doug, the house is right across the street."
"Yeah but someone might want to molest you on the way home."
"Would that someone be you?"
"Could be."
Doug opened the door then rounded the car to the passenger's side. Holding out his hand, he helped Fran from the car. Linking his arm with hers, they crossed the street and walked up to the front door.
"Thank you for inviting me to dinner and to the movies."
"Thank you for accepting the invitation. You had me worried. For a minute I didn't think you would."
Doug cradled her jaw in his hand. Gazing into her eyes, he leaned into Fran. He meant to leave a light friendly peck on the cheek but Doug couldn't resist the temptation of kissing her. Titling her chin upward, he swiped his lips across hers and claimed her mouth in a gentle kiss.
"Good night Fran."
The warmth of his kiss sent a shockwave through her body. Fran stared at him, her mind a cascade of rampant thoughts.
Doug watched the chaotic emotions play across her face. "Fran, I – "
"I'll talk to you later Doug. Good night."
Maxwell wandered into the living room, skimming through the latest script he planned to option. Passing by the door, he did a double take when he spotted Fran and her date standing in front of the outer door.
He closed his eyes, desperate to block out the picture of Fran with her ex-boyfriend. It took him months to banish the image of Danny mauling her in the living room when she was going to leave them four years ago.
His eyes snapped open at the sound of the front door opening. Maxwell froze, his mind awash in panic. He was trapped, unable to flee the room before Fran entered the house.
Fran gasped at the sight of Maxwell staring at her blankly as he stood near the foyer table.
"Mr. Sheffield! What are you doing out here?"
Maxwell blinked, shaken from his reverie. "What? Oh. I was – " He tapped the edge of the forgotten script with his hand. Saying a silent thank you, he continued. "I was reading this script on the way to my office when I heard a noise outside."
Closing the door behind her, Fran hung her coat in the closet and stepped into the living room.
"Have you been standing there the entire time spying on me?"
"I assure you Ms. Fine I was not spying on you."
Folding her arms across her chest, Fran titled her head to one side and stared at him. Ignoring the expression on her face, Maxwell turned the page of the manuscript.
"So, how was your date with Mr. Abrams?"
"How did…Niles. I swear that yenta can't keep a thing to himself."
"Are you planning on seeing him again?"
"I'm not – " Fran unfolded her arms and placed her hands on her hips. "Wait a minute. Why am I explaining myself to you? It's none of your business if I decide to see Doug again."
"Ms. Fine, I'm your friend and I'm concerned about you. He broke up with you before. What guarantee do you have that things will be different this time?"
"Not that I need to explain myself to you but I broke up with him. And I'm not looking for a guarantee, I'm looking for a man that treats me with respect, who values my opinion, and is willing to love me openly and honestly."
"Ms. Fine, – "
"If you'll excuse me Mr. Sheffield, it's been a long evening. Good night."
Maxwell stared open mouthed at Fran as she escaped up the staircase. He knew he needed to go to her, to straighten things out between them but he couldn't make himself follow her. Drawing a deep breath, Maxwell raked his fingers through his hair and blew out a harsh sigh.
How in God's name do I get myself into these predicaments?
Fran lay in the center of the bed staring up at the ceiling. The room was dark, except for the faint beam of moonlight seeping between her curtains. With a slight turn of her head, she gazed at the clock on her nightstand.
Only two minutes had passed since Fran last checked the time. With a heavy sigh, her eyes shifted toward the ceiling once more. Her active mind wouldn't let her find peace, rewinding and replaying the moment leading up to Doug's kiss.
She absently ran her fingertips across her lips. Fran could still feel the lingering impression of his mouth against hers. His sweet gentle kiss held the promise of something other than friendship. She knew he wanted to renew their relationship but her feelings for Maxwell clouded her thinking.
Every time I'm ready to move on with my life, Mr. Sheffield does something to throw me off balance.
Fran turned, punching her pillow in frustration as the image of her body beneath Maxwell surfaced in her mind. Her mind refused to vanquish the memories of their night in the living room.
A shiver of desire echoed in her body. Fran could still see the hypnotic way his eyes locked with her own as his fingers crawled sensuously across her midriff.
Her body amplified the heat radiating from his hand, anticipating the moment when Maxwell's fingers would cover her breast. She wondered how far they would have gone if Maggie hadn't walked into the living room and broken the erotic spell around them.
On many occasions, Fran wished she didn't love him, didn't need him the way she did. Their beings were intertwined and no matter what happened between them, Fran knew she'd love Maxwell until the day she died.
Her body shifted in bed and curled into a fetal position. She closed her eyes. Nipping her lower lip with the edge of her teeth, Fran drew in a shuddery breath. She brushed the track of tears from her face, wiping the moisture away from her eyes.
I might as well face the truth. He's never going to love me the way that I love him.
A pang of sorrow curled in her stomach and slowly spread throughout her body. Fran grabbed the pillow beneath her head and clutched it to her chest.
She didn't want to cry. She didn't want to spend another night mourning over what should have been between herself and Maxwell but Fran felt helpless in controlling her turbulent emotions.
"I love you Mr. Sheffield. I'll love you forever," she whispered muffling her plaintive sobs in her pillow.
Maggie was surprised to see Fran completely dressed so early in the morning. She smiled, imagining how pleased her father would be when he saw her. Briefly, Maggie wondered how long it would take her father to ask Fran to marry him.
"Morning Fran."
Clutching her hand to her chest, Fran let out a sigh of relief. "Sweetie! Don't do that."
"I'm sorry Fran," Maggie said, "You're awfully dressed up for breakfast this morning."
"I'm not having breakfast with the family. I'm going out."
"Oh. Are you meeting your mom or Val?"
"No. I'm meeting someone for breakfast."
"Who are you having breakfast with?"
"Do you remember my friend Doug?"
"You're dating him again?"
Fran blinked at Maggie in wide-eyed surprise. "What the hell is wrong with everybody? We're just two friends having breakfast."
"You don't usually dress that sexy to have breakfast with a friend. And what about daddy?"
"What about him?"
"I thought that you and daddy were – "
"Maggie, let me explain something to you. Your father only wants to be my friend. He has no interest in pursuing a relationship. That's his decision and I have to respect that. I can't keep waiting around hoping that one day he'll change his mind."
Broad fingers of panic clutched and knotted in Maggie's stomach. She curled her hand, sinking her nails into her palm.
This can't be good. If Fran's seeing Doug, then obviously daddy hasn't spoken with her.
"Fran, wait."
"I'm sorry Maggie. I'm running late. I'll talk to you when I get back, okay?"
Maxwell had just settled in his chair when Maggie rushed into the dining room. He glanced at his daughter then turned his focus on the business section of the newspaper, waiting for Niles to serve breakfast.
"Daddy, I thought you were going to talk with Fran."
"She was a little upset last night. But don't worry Margaret, I'll talk to her."
"When?"
"Right after Ms. – right after Fran comes downstairs."
"Then you'll have to wait until she comes back."
Maxwell glanced up in surprise. "She's not home?"
"No. She has a breakfast date."
"Relax Maggie," Brighton replied, "Fran's probably meeting her mother or Val."
Dropping the newspaper on top of the empty plate, Maxwell raked his fingers through his hair. Although he hoped he was wrong, he knew who Fran's breakfast companion would be.
Maggie studied her father. She watched his posture steel in realization of whom Fran would be meeting.
"You know don't you?"
"Know what Maggie?" Grace asked.
"Daddy knows who Fran's having breakfast with this morning."
Grace set her fork down on the edge of the plate. "Who is Fran having breakfast with daddy?"
Maxwell shifted uncomfortably in his chair as four pairs of eyes trained on him. This was the last discussion he wanted to have now. He cleared his throat then slowly met the eyes of his children and butler.
"Ms. – Fran is having breakfast with Doug Abrams."
Brighton threw his napkin on the table. "What?"
"It's true," Maggie replied. "She told me before she left."
"I didn't know they were dating again," Grace said.
"Officially they aren't," Maxwell countered. "According to Fran, they're just friends."
Grace looked at her brother and sister then to her father. She shrugged her shoulders before picking through the bowl of fresh cut fruit.
"I don't understand why that's such a big deal. Fran is daddy's friend too."
"Gracie, don't you get it?" Maggie asked sitting beside her sister. "If daddy hasn't told Fran how he feels about her, Fran is using Doug to make herself forget about the feelings she has for daddy."
"Dad, you'd better do something about this before it's too late."
"Do not take that tone of voice with me young man! I am fully aware that I need to speak with Ms. Fine."
"Look daddy, all we're saying is that – "
"Margaret, I know what the three of you are implying but I doubt if Fran is going to make a rash decision about her future after a few dates."
"But what if they continue to date and he eventually offers Ms. Fine everything she's ever wanted?"
The focus in the room suddenly shifted as Maxwell, Maggie, Brighton, and Grace turned toward the long silent butler. Setting the plate on the buffet, Niles turned around and faced the family.
"What? It is a legitimate question."
Maggie looked at her father. "He's right daddy. Doug could offer Fran everything before you have a chance to talk to her."
"You all are worrying over nothing. Margaret, Brighton, Grace, please finish your breakfast."
Niles, Brighton, Maggie, and Grace exchanged worried looks. Dismissing their stares, Maxwell picked up the abandoned newspaper lying across his plate. Under the cover of reading an article on the latest corporate merger, he delved into his secret fear.
Fran couldn't fall for someone that quickly could she? No, she couldn't, his conscious shot back. Then again, Doug Abrams isn't just anyone.
Doug watched Fran half-heartedly stab at the salmon and onion omelet on her plate. Patting his mouth with the edge of his napkin, he took a quick sip of coffee before he spoke.
"Are you going to put that out of its misery?"
"What?"
"The way you're poking that omelet, it's dying a slow torturous death."
Fran laughed then looked up at Doug. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm not very good company today."
"You're always good company Fran."
"Working on your schmoozing skills?"
"Not today. Tomorrow, however, is another matter."
He smiled as her face lit up in laughter. Lacing his fingers with hers, Doug caressed the back of her hand with his thumb.
"I must say I was a bit surprised when you called me this morning."
"Was that a bad thing?"
"No. It was a very good thing." He brought the back of her hand to his lips. "I'm sorry about what happened yesterday. That's not true," said Doug correcting himself, "I'm not sorry it happened. I've wanted to kiss you since I ran into you at the mall the other day. I am sorry that I've thrown you off-kilter."
"I won't say you thrown me off-kilter Doug. You just…tilted me more than I already am."
A hearty laugh burst from his mouth. He always enjoyed her wry sense of humor. Wiping the corner of his eyes with his fingertips, Doug looked up to see Fran laughing with him.
"Do you know how beautiful you are when you smile?"
A slight blush crept across her face. "Thank you."
Cradling the mug in her hand, Fran closed her eyes and took a sip of coffee. She breathed in the heady aroma as the warmth of the drink seeped into her being. When Fran opened her eyes, she saw Doug gazing at her with a mischievous, crooked smile.
"I've always loved coming to Ben's."
"I love this place too, in spite of the fact that we broke up here." He turned and pointed at a corner table. "Right over there as a matter of fact."
"It was by mutual agreement."
"I know it was. And if it were possible, I'd go back in time and kick myself."
"Why?"
"I've said it before and I'll say it again. You were the best thing that happened to me Fran. No one else can come close to you."
"Doug, – "
"Hear me out. Even though we both agreed to break up, I realized our relationship ended because of me. I was…too blind, too stupid to understand what I had with you. You are everything I'm looking for in a woman. You're smart, generous, loving, beautiful, and sexy. Shall I go on?"
When Fran shook her head no, Doug sighed.
"I'm sorry Fran. I wanted to be honest and up front about my feelings for you."
"I can't answer you right now Doug. You and me, our relationship seems to be happening so fast."
"I'm not pressuring you, really."
"I know you're not. And I appreciate it but I'm still going to need some time to sort out my feelings."
"Maybe I shouldn't have said anything."
"I'm glad you did." A bittersweet laugh poured from Fran's throat. "You don't know how refreshing it is to be with someone who knows what he wants."
Doug wanted to ask about Maxwell but he wasn't ready to explore the relationship she had with her employer. Before he had a chance to console Fran, his cell phone rang. Checking the number that flashed across the front, he murmured a soft curse then stood up.
"Excuse me."
Her eyes followed his movements as he exited the restaurant. She said a silent prayer, grateful for the interruption. The last thing she wanted to discuss was her convoluted relationship with Maxwell.
Fran picked up her fork, pushing her abandoned meal around her plate. She tasted a bit of her breakfast then pushed the cold remains aside. Picking up her mug of coffee, Fran swirled the dark liquid then finished the tepid drink.
"Sorry about that," Doug said sliding into his chair.
"It's not a problem. Is everything all right?"
"No. Fran, I hate to cut our date short. Eric is flipping out because there's some problem with the invoices so I have to go hold his hand."
"I see things with Eric haven't changed."
"He's exceptionally gifted at being a worrywart." Doug sighed, running his hand through his hair. "I've already taken care of the bill. Are you ready to go?"
"Yes."
Slipping into their coats, they exited the restaurant and walked out into the bright December sun. He turned to face Fran, watching the wind play with her dark curly mane. Brushing a lock of hair from her face, Doug's lips curled into a wide smile.
"Thank you for inviting me to breakfast."
"I should be thanking you. After all you paid."
"How about we call it a draw: great food and great company."
"I can live with that."
"Do you want me to drop you off at home?"
"No. I'll take a cab home."
"Oh. Wait a minute."
Doug scanned the busy New York streets. Multiple cabs flew by in the morning rush before one finally stopped in front of them. Holding open the door, he helped Fran inside the cab.
"Thanks Doug."
"You're welcome Fran," he replied kissing her cheek. "I'll talk to you later."
"Okay."
He gave the cabbie her address then closed the door. As the taxi drove away, he smiled when Fran turned around and waved goodbye to him. Doug whistled as he ventured down the street toward his car.
I know you're in love with your boss but I think if you give us a chance, we'd make it.
Niles closed the door firmly behind the courier and set the box on the foyer table. It wasn't unusual to accept Christmas packages for the Sheffields but to have one addressed specifically to Fran raised his internal alarm.
He shook the small package, wrapped perfectly in vibrant blue-red paper. Niles examined the expensive looking gold ribbon that decorated the present. He knew of only one person who would courier a gift to Fran.
Whatever it is, it isn't breakable. How annoying! Mr. Sheffield better make a move or the next thing he'll get is an invitation to Ms. Fine and Mr. Abrams' wedding!
"What's that Niles?"
The box flew out of Niles' hand at the sound of Fran's voice. He held his hand to his chest trying to calm his shaken demeanor. Picking the wrapped gift off the floor, Fran strolled over to her friend.
"Are you okay?"
"What were you trying to do, give me another heart attack?"
She swatted him playfully on the arm. "Who's this for?"
"Actually it's for you. It just arrived by courier."
"Really? I wonder who sent it."
"My psychic powers tell me that if you read the card, you'll know who it's from."
Fran swatted his shoulder. She tugged at the envelope from underneath the ribbon then set the gift on the table. She pulled the card from its paper cover and scanned the note.
Niles watched her face twist in confusion. Curiosity getting the better of him, he leaned over and took the card from her hand.
I'd like to résumé the progression of our relationship. Meet me at
Ciao Bella's on E. 92nd Street tomorrow at 3pm so we may discuss
the situation.
"What an odd message Ms. Fine. I assume Mr. Abrams sent that to you?"
As he read the card, Fran tore off the wrapping paper. Underneath was a leopard print lacquer box. Opening the box, her laughter filled the living room.
Niles looked at his friend with a curious eye. He felt a mixture of happiness and sadness at Fran's cheerfulness. He wanted her to be happy but not at the expense of their employer.
First they're dating and now he's sending her presents? This doesn't bode well for Mr. Sheffield.
"What did he send you Ms. Fine?"
"A tube of lipstick. And not just any lipstick, he sent my signature color, Cadillac Red."
His sympathy for Maxwell turned quickly to anger.
This is his bloody fault in the first place! Instead of confessing his true feelings, he consistently pushed her away. It would serve him right if she left him for Mr. Abrams.
Niles wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Résumé? Doesn't he know how to spell Ms. Fine?"
"I don't care about the note. What I want to know is where he found my lipstick."
"The entire situation is odd. Who writes a note with resume spelled like résumé and sends a tube of lipstick as a gift?"
"It doesn't matter to me Niles. The man thought enough of me to send me a gift. That act alone earns a gold star in my book." Fran took the note from Niles. Picking up the box, she winked and said, "Call me when dinner's ready."
He watched her saunter up the steps. Grabbing his feather duster, Niles wandered through the living room dusting the tables. He made his way over to the piano, muttering under his breath as he brushed the keys.
"It's absurd. Whoever heard of misspelling the word resume and sending a tube of lipstick in a love note?"
Swiping the dust from the pictures on the piano, Niles' arm froze in mid-swing.
Résumé? Lipstick? His eyes grew wide. No! It can't be!
The feather duster fell to the floor as Niles scurried toward Maxwell's office.
"Why did you have a courier deliver an anonymous package to the house for Ms. Fine?" Niles demanded rushing into Maxwell's office.
"Did you forget to whom you were speaking?"
Maxwell shot up from his chair, motioning to Niles not to respond as he rounded the desk. Checking the hallway, he stepped back into the office and closed the door. Tunneling his fingers through his hair, he blew out a soft sigh. It was only a matter of time before Niles found out about his plan.
First, he calls Ms. Fine by her first name in front of the children, now he's given her a secret gift. A soft smile crossed Niles' face. He's courting her!
Niles didn't know what grated his nerves more: watching Maxwell pace the floor or being kept out of the loop about his intentions toward Fran. With an exasperated grunt, Niles walked over to his boss and shook him from his trance.
"Sir!"
"What? I'm sorry Niles. I've been trying to gather my thoughts together."
"It took less time to put Humpty Dumpty back together again." Ignoring his employer's scowl, Niles pressed Maxwell for an answer. "Mr. Sheffield, are you going to answer my question?"
"Yes, I am. Have a seat Niles." He waited until Niles settled on the couch before he began. "How did you figure out that I sent the package?"
"When I first read the note, I thought Mr. Abrams couldn't spell. Then I started thinking about the word résumé and I remembered that Ms. Fine presented her application to you in lipstick. It didn't take long to put two and two together."
"Ms. Fine received her package did she?"
"Yes sir. You could have knocked her over with a feather when she opened up her gift."
"Does she know who it's from?"
"She thinks Mr. Abrams sent it."
Niles saw an annoyed twitch ripple across Maxwell's jaw. His eyes dropped to the curled fist of his employer. Niles had never seen him fight to control his emotions as desperately as Maxwell had over the five years he had known Fran.
Regaining his composure, Maxwell asked, "I take it she's…enthralled with her gift?"
"The gift and its meaning."
"What do you mean?"
Niles paused unsure of how to answer him. Instead of placating him, he decided to be blunt.
"It was a clear message of affection, devotion. A willingness to commit." Niles tipped his head to the side. "That was your intent was it not?"
"Yes." Maxwell began to pace the floor again. "Why didn't she get it? Didn't she understand the message?"
"Perhaps it would have been clarified if the messenger had been willing to impart its meaning a little earlier."
"I get your point Niles. No need to continue to beat that dead horse."
"I take it this means you're ready to tell Ms. Fine how you feel about her?"
"If she's still willing to have me."
"Mr. Sheffield, despite all appearances, Ms. Fine is still very much in love with you. But if you don't make a move soon, how she feels will be irrelevant and she'll be in the arms of another."
The realization of what was at stake settled across Maxwell's features. He sat down and turned the chair toward the terrace.
Niles pushed back his shirtsleeve and glanced at his watch. He started toward the door when Maxwell called out to him.
"Niles?"
"Yes sir?"
"It's not that I don't know the risks but you've given me more to think about. Thank you."
"You're welcome sir."
"Oh Niles. One last thing?"
"Yes Mr. Sheffield?"
"You breathe one word of this to Ms. – to Fran and I will kick you out on your sorry British tuchas."
A flicker of a smile crossed Niles' face. Pulling the door open, he simply replied, "Don't worry sir, this time your secret is safe with me. Dinner will be ready in a couple of hours."
Maxwell lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. His active mind refused to rest. It had been a while since Fran had sat down with him and the children and shared a meal. He smiled recalling the sparkle in her eyes when he mentioned how radiant she looked.
The hiccup from the other night seemed all but forgotten and they were able to share a nice quiet evening together. Then the phone rang and the intrusion shattered his illusion of their family being together.
Thank God she wasn't on the phone very long. If Fran had the opportunity to thank Mr. Abrams for her gift, he would have questioned her about it. It wouldn't have taken her very long to figure out that I sent the present to her.
He shifted in bed, drawing a pillow into his arms. Maxwell wished the fragrance he breathed in were Fran's perfume instead of the clean scent of freshly laundered sheets.
I can't wait to have you in my bed, in my arms, instead of this conjured fantasy of you my love.
Maxwell closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around the soft elongated feather pillow. His last clear thought before drifting off to sleep was of tomorrow and the dawning of a new era in his relationship with Fran.