Comfort and Oy

by Escritora69

When Maxwell accidentally overhears a conversation between Niles and Fran, will it make him rethink his “friends” plan or will it drive him further into his shell?

5. Coupledom

Maxwell shoved the key into the dead bolt and unlocked the door. He paused before twisting the knob to enter the house.

"Are you ready to see your children?" Maxwell asked lacing their fingers together.

Fran nodded. "Absolutely. I missed them so much."

"What about their father?"

"I suppose I missed him too."

"Not as half as much as he missed you."

"Trying to score brownie points Mr. Sheffield?"

"That depends. Is it working Ms. Fine?"

She ran her index finger under his chin and leaned in for a quick kiss.

"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. I'll get back to you on that."

"Promise?"

"Definitely."

Stillness greeted Fran and Maxwell when they stepped inside the mansion. Setting the basket on the foyer table, they strained to listen for any sound that would tell them where Niles, Maggie, Brighton, and Grace were.

Maxwell raised an eyebrow. "I wonder where the children are?"

Fran checked her watch. "Considering the time, they're either in their rooms or eating dinner."

Taking her by the hand, Maxwell led Fran toward the dining room. He stopped short of the entryway when they heard the children talking. Holding his finger to his mouth, Maxwell motioned for Fran to be quiet.

"Do you think she's coming back?" Grace asked.

"She has to Gracie," Brighton replied. "We love her and she loves us."

"What about daddy?" Maggie asked. "He loves Fran too."

Brighton huffed, pushing his dinner around the plate with his fork. "He's taking too long. Dad should have told Fran how he felt a long time ago."

"Daddy's repressed emotions are a result of internalizing his grief. If he had dealt with mom's death in therapy, he wouldn't be reluctant to express his feelings for Fran."

"You know Gracie, since Fran's been apart of our lives, you don't break into psychobabble as often as you use to," Brighton said. "But you still don't sound quite normal."

"Of all people, you are the last one who can define what's normal," Maggie replied.

Maxwell pulled Fran away from the threshold of the dining room. He leaned over and pressed his mouth close to her ear.

"I'll go in first. Wait a few minutes and then come in behind me."

Fran's eyes drifted shut against the softness of his words and lips caressing the edge of her ear. She drew in a light breath to control the shiver that traveled through her body. Her eyes snapped open when Maxwell kissed her ear then trailed his lips down the side of her neck.

"Don't start something you're not going to finish."

"We're just putting this on pause for now. Darling, trust me when I tell you that I'm just getting started."

Giving him one last kiss, Fran brushed her fingers across his mouth to wipe off the residue from her lipstick. As he started toward the dining room, she grabbed him by the arm.

"I know why you want to go in first."

"Why?"

With a quick wink, she replied, "Because you know my favorite view."

"In that case, after dinner, you can leave before me," he replied. Maxwell flashed an impish grin then entered the dining room.

"Good evening children."

"When did you get home?" Brighton asked.

"I've been here about ten minutes. What have you three been up to today?"

"Nothing much," Maggie replied, "just hanging around the house."

Grace slid out of her chair and walked over to Maxwell. "Daddy, have you spoken with Fran?"

"Yes I have."

Niles pushed the swing door open and entered the room. "I thought I heard your voice sir."

Picking up a plate from the buffet, he fixed Maxwell's dinner and set it in front of him.

"Thank you Niles."

Four sets of eyes focused on Maxwell as he ate dinner. Frustrated by his father's silence, Brighton dropped his fork across his plate.

"Dad?"

"Yes Brighton?"

"Is that all you're going to say? That you've spoken with Fran?"

Maxwell pinched the inside of his jaw with the edge of his teeth to kill the urge to laugh. He took a sip of water and resumed eating dinner.

"Daddy, is Fran coming home?" Maggie asked.

"Oh. Is that what you all want to know?"

Niles, Maggie, Grace, and Brighton exchanged frustrated glances.

"Yes!" they replied in unison.

"Good evening everyone!"

Maggie, Brighton, and Grace looked up to see Fran posing with her arms stretched diagonally in the entrance of the dining room.

"Fran!"

They bolted from the table and flung their arms around Fran, overwhelming her in their embrace. Speaking at once, their voices accelerated, all vying for her attention.

Maxwell and Niles watched the scene unfolding before them. Fran returned Maggie, Brighton, and Grace's affection as she hugged and kissed all three children and simultaneously managed to hold multiple conversations.

Leaning down, Niles whispered, "The children are very happy to have their mother back home."

"Yes," Maxwell murmured absently, "they're overjoyed." Quirking his eyebrow, he shifted in his chair to face Niles. "Did you say what I think you just said?"

"You heard me correctly sir. She's been their mother for five years. At least I thought so. Of course my thoughts were confirmed several nights ago when I heard you and Ms. Fine in the hallway."

"You were in the hallway?"

"Don't worry sir," Niles replied. "I didn't see or hear anything else."

Maxwell watched Niles move toward the buffet and prepare a plate for Fran.

"Margaret, Grace, Brighton please sit down and finish your dinner. I'm sure Fran would like to have dinner as well."

The jubilation in the dining room finally settled as Fran and the children made their way to the table. Grace turned and looked at her father realizing that he addressed their nanny by her first name.

"Daddy, you called her Fran!"

"That is her name sweetheart."

"Wait a minute," Brighton said. "If you're calling Fran by her first name, does this mean you finally told her that you love her?"

"Yes Brighton. I realize that I did take too long to tell her how I feel."

Maggie hid her grin at her brother's flushed embarrassed face behind the cloth napkin.

"I'm happy you two told each other how you feel. So when are you getting married?"

Maxwell looked at his eldest daughter. He knew that was the next logical step for every couple but she was getting ahead of his plan.

"Margaret!"

"Well if you two love each other, I don't understand the big deal about that question?"

"Fran and I will discuss that when the time is right. It's not open for conversation at this time."

Maxwell reached over and squeezed Fran's fingers. When she returned the slight gesture, he kissed the back of her hand then resumed dinner.

Placing a plate in front of her, Niles whispered, "Welcome home Ms. Fine."

"Thanks Niles. It's good to be home."

Maxwell looped his arm around Fran's waist as they headed up the staircase. Rounding the corner, they went to each of the children's room to check on them and bid them goodnight. Before escorting Fran to her room, Maxwell stopped in his bedroom to pick up a small gift bag.

"Here you are. Delivered safe and secure to your room."

"Don't you want to come in and check for monsters under my bed and in my closet?"

"I guess I should. I don't want any bodily harm to befall you."

Taking him by the hand, Fran entered the bedroom then closed the door behind him. Flattening her palms against his chest, she pushed her fingers over his shoulders and locked her hands behind his neck.

Maxwell pulled Fran completely into him, absently dropping the gift bag to the floor. Crushing his lips against hers, her mouth acquiesced to the gentle teasing of his tongue. His lips moved across her skin, tracing the line of her jaw in hot wet kisses. They moaned in unison, reveling in the affect they had on each other.

A sensuous purr left Fran's throat when she felt his arousal pressing into her. She didn't want to stop. She wanted Maxwell to show her how much he loved her but the unwelcome thought of the children or Niles finding them tangled in her bed planted itself in her subconscious.

Maxwell felt Fran push against his chest. He reluctantly broke their kiss, still caught in the sensual haze she held over him. He swallowed hard, trying to control his unsteady breath.

"Max, we need to stop. We can't, not while the kids are home."

"I know. I don't mean to rush you or be presumptuous but I – "

Fran pressed her hand to his lips. "You don't need to explain Max. I understand. Believe me, I feel the same way too." When she turned around, Fran noticed the small bag lying on its side. "Max, what's this?"

"What's what Fran?"

"This little silver bag."

"Oh." Maxwell picked the bag up and handed it to her. "This is for you."

"A welcome home gift?"

"Not exactly. It's your fourth gift. Actually, you were supposed to have gotten this before our date. If you think about it, the pattern has been gift/date, gift/date, gift/date except for today. It's out of order."

Fran crossed the room and sat on the edge of her bed. Plucking out the tissue paper, she turned the bag upside down, watching the contents spill out.

"You're going to make me work for this one, aren't you?" she asked picking up the wrapped items.

"I was hoping you'd see it as mysterious."

"You know, when it comes to personal things, suspense doesn't hold that much allure for me."

He traced her jaw with the back of his index finger. "Humor me darling. Okay?"

"You're lucky I love you."

She picked up the first item then shook it. It was flat, square and very light in weight. Pulling at the taped edge, Fran quickly tore off the wrapping paper. She looked at the item in her hand then to Maxwell.

"It's a CD."

"I know what it is Max. What I want to know is why did you give me a CD by The Seekers?"

"Turn the CD over Fran and look at the tenth song."

Fran flipped the jewel case over. Her finger ran across the song list until she found the one she was looking for. She glanced up at Maxwell and saw him trying unsuccessfully to hide his smile.

"Georgy Girl?"

"Open your other present."

She arched her eyebrow then tore open the smaller square box. Inside the blue velvet box was a pair of diamond studs.

"Oh Maxwell," Fran gasped taking the earrings from the case, "they're beautiful."

He watched as she tilted her head from one side to the other, slipping the earrings in her ears.

"They're beautiful darling. Just like you."

Fran ran to her vanity. Pushing back her hair, she marveled at the sparkle of the diamonds in her ears.

"Max, thank you so much."

"They too have a special significance."

"What do you mean?"

"Read the card." She walked back to the bed and picked up the envelope. As Fran opened the sealed edge, Maxwell said, "You will note that unlike the ones before, this note is in my handwriting."

To my Georgy Girl, ice for your itchy ears.

Fran laughed then flung her arms around him. "Maxwell Sheffield, you are the most frustrating and delightful man I know. I love you."

"You, Fran Fine, are the most exhilarating, generous, and vexing woman I have ever met. You have captured my heart and soul and I love you too."

He slid his arms around her waist. Leaving a quick peck on her lips, Maxwell sighed and pulled her into his body.

"Just the thought of losing you scares the hell out of me."

"You're never going to lose me Max," said Fran returning his gentle kiss. "I'm yours. Now and forever."

When Maxwell entered the kitchen, he found Fran sitting at the counter holding the phone with her shoulder. She picked at a slice of coffee cake, vaguely interested in her current conversation. Dropping a tea bag in his cup, Maxwell took the kettle off the stove and poured hot water in his mug.

"Your mother?" he asked mouthing the question.

Fran nodded. "Ma, I've got to go. Max just came in and he needs my help. No, you can't talk to him right now. He's in the middle of a project. I promise, I'll call you back. Okay. Love you too."

Maxwell grinned when she set the phone on the counter. "That wasn't very nice of you sweetheart, lying to your mother that way."

"Do you want me to call her back? She'd love to tell you about her trip to Boca. You can hear all about her flight down, what food was served on the plane, her visit to Marsha and Jack's new condo, the restaurants she and daddy went to. Need I go on?"

"I retract my earlier statement."

"Good boy. Now come here and give me a proper kiss."

He stopped stirring his tea and rounded the island. Pulling Fran to her feet, he leaned down and brushed his mouth across hers in light playful kisses.

Threading her fingers through his hair, Fran held his head steady and pressed her mouth fully against his. She felt his arms engulf her waist as their kiss became frenetic and wanton.

Niles pushed the swing door open. Surprised but not shocked to see his employer and best friend intimately intertwined, he reluctantly interrupted them before one of the children caught them in a less than flattering situation.

"The children are out with their friends and haven't come home yet. Perhaps you two should retreat to…higher ground?"

A sharp gasp rose between Fran and Maxwell when they heard Niles' voice. Wiping the lipstick from his mouth, Maxwell grabbed his cup of tea and started for the door.

"Um, good afternoon Niles. I have some things to finish regarding the play. I'll be in the my office if you need me."

Fran watched Maxwell's quickly retreating figure exit the kitchen. Turning around, she arched her eyebrow and folded her arms across her chest.

"What?"

"You really know how to clear a room, don't you?"

"I was just stating a fact Ms. Fine. You didn't want one of the children to walk in on you again did you?"

"Again?"

"I know about the night Ms. Margaret found you and Mr. Sheffield in the living room."

"Is nothing sacred around here?"

"When it comes to the two of you? No."

Shaking her head, Fran replied, "I'll be upstairs if the kids need me."

Niles bit the inside of his jaw to curb his automatic response. He watched Fran trot up the steps then started preparations for dinner.

Fran lay in the center of her bed clutching a pillow to her chest. She glanced around the room, making out the shadows of furniture that inhabited her sanctuary. Her thoughts drifted back to a few nights ago when she and Maxwell stood in the center of the room kissing.

It was much more than kissing, she thought with a smile. That was an exploration of each other.

Her body grew flush remembering how Maxwell's hands skimmed her curvy frame.

If the kids weren't home, would we have taken the final step? Now that he's willing to share his heart, is he willing to share his bed?

Fran was more than willing to take the next step but she didn't want to push Maxwell so soon after he finally expressed his feelings for her.

I'm still awed by the fact that the man said he loves me!

She reached into her nightstand and pulled out a bottle of Aramis. Spraying her pillow with the cologne, Fran set the bottle back in her nightstand and closed the drawer. She drew the pillow into her arms, deeply inhaling the scent.

It may not be the real thing, she thought drifting off into a peaceful slumber, but it's only a matter of time before my fantasy becomes a reality.

Maxwell leaned back in the green leather chair, drumming his fingers along the desktop. A light smile danced across his face as thoughts of his relationship with Fran filled his head. His mind wandered back to the moments they shared over the past few weeks.

We certainly have had a unique courtship. Who would have thought that overhearing Fran and Niles' conversation would push me into admitting my feelings – not only to myself but to Fran as well?

His smiled broadened, remembering their first shared meal without Maggie, Brighton, and Grace's presence in the dining room. After spending the day soul searching about their future, it was comforting to revel in the intimacy of their evening.

An illicit shudder coursed through his body at the memory of their near liaison in the living room.

I wanted her so much that night. It would have been easy for me to pick her up, carry her to my room, and lay her across my bed.

I would have slowly undressed her, taken my time to discover what pleased her. Touching her, tasting her, exploring all of her, making Fran plead her need for me until our bodies met in fervent convergence.

Although it didn't turn out the way either of us wanted, I guess that was our first unofficial date.

His face faltered. He could hear her words in his mind clear as the day she said them on the rooftop a few days ago.

"I do appreciate your originality Max, really I do. I just wish you had told me we were dating."

She's right. Although our outings were creative, we need to go on a real date. A candlelight dinner. Maybe a little dancing. Something romantic. That's the very least she deserves.

Maxwell turned around and pulled his chair up to the desk. Reaching for a pad, he began to scribble out his ideas to romance Fran.

It's only a matter of time before we take the final step in our relationship. Before he could set pen to paper again, a salacious thought surfaced in his mind. And marriage too.

A wide smile broke across Maxwell's face as he finished writing his plans in a frantic pace. Quickly glancing over the list, he folded the paper in half and grabbed his suit jacket from the back of the chair.

Stuffing the list in his breast pocket as he rounded the desk, Maxwell yanked the door open to a surprised and startled Niles.

"Sir, is everything all right?"

"Just fine Niles." Shrugging on his jacket, he continued, "I'm going out for a little while. If I'm not back by dinner, start without me."

"Where are you going?"

"I have a few errands I need to take care of."

Niles stood back and watched Maxwell sprint through the living room. A few seconds later, he heard the sound of the front door opening and closing. Niles raised a curious eyebrow at his employer's peculiar behavior.

I wonder where he's off to in such a hurry?

It was ten minutes to eleven when Maxwell entered the house. Closing the door quietly, he set the shopping bags down to lock the door before heading upstairs for the night. Tempted to hide his purchases in the closet, Maxwell changed his mind and made his way up the staircase.

Wandering down the hallway, he stopped at Maggie's room. Softly opening the door, the light from the hall cast enough light for him to see his eldest child. She had fallen asleep with a Jackie Collins novel laying face down at her side.

I'll talk to Fran about that later.

Placing the book on her nightstand, Maxwell pulled the comforter over Maggie, kissed her forehead, and left the room.

Entering Brighton's room, the corner of Maxwell's mouth curved in a slight grin. His son, like his eldest daughter, had fallen asleep with a book at his side. He picked the book up, surprised by its subject.

Jewish Literacy: The Most Important Things to Know About the Jewish Religion, Its People and Its History. Maxwell smiled down at his son. That boy always finds a new way to amaze me.

Pulling the covers over his son, Maxwell brushed Brighton's fine blond hair off his forehead. A full smile developed across his face before he turned and walked out of his son's room.

Curled up on her side, Grace had her teddy bear clutched in her arms when Maxwell stepped into her room. Looking at his youngest child, he was awed by the duality of her personality. She spewed complex thoughts and psychological explanations yet balanced it with a steadfast youthful idealism.

Biologically she may be Sara's but Grace is Fran's child as well. Maybe more so because Fran entered her life at such a young age.

As Grace shifted in bed, her teddy bear fell to the floor. Reaching down, Maxwell slid the stuffed animal back in his daughter's arms. He placed a soft kiss on her cheek then slipped from her room.

Maxwell set the shopping bags down and stood in front of Fran's door. He glanced at the brass doorknob, hesitant to reach out and twist it open. He hadn't been in her bedroom since the night Fran came home a few nights ago.

Do I really want to do this? I could just wait until tomorrow to give Fran her presents instead of entering her bedroom and risk waking her.

He closed his eyes, trying to erase the image of Fran alone in bed.

You can do this. Just concentrate on the reason you're here.

Taking a deep breath, Maxwell clutched the knob and pushed her door open. He stilled for a moment, watching Fran sleep.

God she's beautiful. I can't believe how fortunate I am. How many times can a man say he's been blessed to have not one but two true loves in one lifetime?

How many times can one say that not only did they play Russian Roulette with their true love's feelings but managed to have their love hold out until their feelings were reciprocated? Maxwell shook his head. Not many.

Closing the door behind him, Maxwell waited until his eyes adjusted to the darkness before maneuvering through Fran's room. He had done well, easing pass her bed until he stumbled into her vanity.

Maxwell pressed his fist to his mouth, sinking his teeth into the back of his hand until the sharp pain diminished to a dull throb. Grateful that Fran hadn't waken, he moved toward her closet. Reaching inside one of the shopping bags, Maxwell carefully opened her closet and hooked the garment bag over the door.

He took cautious steps away from the closet, holding out his hand until he felt the corner of the vanity. Sliding his fingers along the wooden edge, Maxwell's hand stopped when he felt the back of her chair.

Lifting the boxes by the satin ribbon, Maxwell set them on the chair. He folded the empty shopping bag as quietly as he could and slid it inside the other sack before edging his way toward the door.

Maxwell paused to watch Fran sleep. She was facing him with her arms wrapped tightly around her pillow. He closed his eyes as the image of Fran laying in his bed with her arm draped over his chest surfaced in his mind.

Setting the bag near her nightstand, he kneeled beside her bed. Maxwell reached out and traced the contours of her face with his fingertips.

"You're so beautiful Fran. You have no idea how much I love you."

He bent his head toward her. Hesitating for a moment, he inhaled the scent of his cologne on her pillow. A mixture of pride and desire flowed through him, knowing she thought of him as she slept.

Maxwell met her mouth with a soft peck then pulled away from her. Tracing her lips, he leaned into her and pressed his mouth fully to hers.

Rolling Fran onto her back, Maxwell lost himself in the awkward rhythm of their kiss. He felt her moan softly as her kiss became stronger. Breaking their kiss, he cupped her jaw and watched her struggle to open her eyes.

"What happened to you?" she asked, her eyes closing under the burden of sleep. "I was worried about you. Where did you go?"

"Shh. Everything will become clear in the morning. Go back to sleep."

"You're kidding right? After you woke me up with that kiss?"

"I plan to do a lot more than that someday. But you need your rest." Maxwell leaned down and left a light peck on her lips. "I'll see you in the morning. Good night my love."

"Good night Max," Fran replied returning his kiss. "I love you."

"I love you too."

He kissed her a final time and rose to his full height. Adjusting her bed covers, Maxwell ran his fingers across her cheek then exited her room.

Fran slowly opened her eyes, taking in the pre-dawn light seeping into her bedroom. She blew out a deep breath as she stretched, wallowing in the stillness that engulfed the mansion.

A smile graced her lips as Fran remembered the delicious dream of Maxwell's body firmly on top of hers, kissing her into consciousness.

It seemed so real, she thought running her fingers across her lips. His kiss was so tender yet strong and passionate. I would have loved if we had gone further. Her face clouded over with concern. That's odd. Normally when I dream of him, of the two of us together, we make love. But I didn't this time. Oh well, that too is just a matter of time.

Clutching the pillow in her arms, Fran turned over and closed her eyes. She snuggled down in her bed covers when her eyes snapped open. Raising her head off the pillow, Fran stared at the closet door.

Where did that come from?

She tossed her covers aside and slid out of bed. Taking a few short steps to her closet, Fran ran her hand down the garment bag. She eased the zipper down and pulled the protective cover off the hanger.

Oh my god, it's beautiful! Her fingers slid over the red silk beaded halter dress. That wasn't a dream! He was here last night!

She slipped the garment bag back over the dress. As she turned to climb back into bed, Fran noticed the boxes sitting on her chair. Padding over to the vanity, she stared at the two boxes tied together.

What am I going to do with that man? A devilish grin appeared on her face. Well I know what I'd like to do with him!

Fran took the cartons from the chair and sat on the edge of the bed. Unraveling the ribbon, she pushed the bow aside and opened the top box. She dug through the tissue paper and pulled out a red silk handbag shaped like a rose bloom.

What a beautiful bag! I wonder if he picked this out himself.

Setting the handbag aside, Fran took the top off the second box. She held her hand over her mouth in awe as she lifted one high-heeled shoe from the box. The three and a quarter inch red satin sandal had a bow across the toe and a silver star that dangled from the ankle strap.

He is so sweet! But he didn't have to buy me anything! She shook her head putting the shoe back in the box. I have to think of a proper way to thank him.

When she heard the sounds of Maggie, Grace, and Brighton stirring in the hallway, Fran turned toward the clock sitting on her nightstand.

Oy, I'd better get my tuchas in gear if I want to have breakfast with Max and the kids!

"Good morning everyone!"

Maggie, Brighton, and Grace looked up as Fran glided into the dining room. She rounded the chairs then took her usual spot at the table.

"Morning Fran," they replied in near unison.

"Good morning Ms. Fine," Niles said setting a plate in front of her.

"Good morning Niles. Oh, Belgian waffles! Mmm yummy. My favorite." Fran looked at the empty chair to her left. "Hey guys, where's your father?"

Brighton shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. Maybe he's still asleep."

"I wonder what time he came in last night?" Maggie asked. "It had to be pretty late."

Hearing the swing door open, Fran turned around to face Niles as he reentered the dining room.

"Niles, have you seen Maxwell?"

"Yes. Mr. Sheffield had an early breakfast then went to his office to work on the arrangements for his next production. Forgive me for not passing on his message to you but Mr. Sheffield would like to see you in his office after you finish breakfast."

"Okay. Thanks Niles." Slicing a wedge of her waffles with her fork, she asked, "So kids, what do you all have planned for today?"

"Well I was going to meet some of my friends at the mall later on," Maggie replied.

"I was going to the movies with Jeff and Peter," Brighton added.

Grace looked up when she realized everyone was looking at her. "I don't have any plans."

"Maybe we can find something to do later on if you want Gracie."

"I thought you'd want to spend time alone with daddy Fran."

Fran shrugged her shoulders. "That depends on how busy your father is with his project."

Maxwell stood behind the door, waiting for Fran to enter his office. When she left the dining room, Niles buzzed him from the kitchen to let him know she was on her way. After his late night trip to her room, Maxwell spent a restless night in bed trying to decide how he was going to approach Fran about their date.

He glanced over at the end table by the sofa and smiled. The delphiniums overflowed in the blue frosted vase. The flowers were beautiful, bursting with vivacity and brilliance.

Much like the woman receiving them.

Holding his breath, Maxwell waited as the soft click of her heels drew closer.

Where is he, Fran wondered staring into his office.

From her view, Maxwell wasn't at his usual spot behind his desk. Entering the room, she peered around the door to see if he was on the patio. When Fran walked pass the door, Maxwell reached out and snaked his arm around her waist.

"Good morning sweetheart," he whispered nuzzling her neck.

Fran swatted him on the arm. "Maxwell! You scared me!"

"I'm sorry Fran," he replied pushing the door shut, "I wanted to greet you in a special way."

Turning in his embrace, she slipped her arms around his neck and said, "I prefer you greet me this way."

Running her fingers through his hair, Fran smiled then pressed her lips to his. Slowly deepening her kiss, she felt Maxwell's arms tighten around her waist.

"Good morning Maxwell," she breathed breaking their kiss.

"You're right," he whispered gulping for air, "your way is much better."

"Believe me honey that was just a preview. I have a more unique way than that to greet you."

Maxwell closed his eyes as she left a trail of kisses along the side of his neck. A soft moan sprang from his throat before he could rein it in.

"Fran, are you trying to make me forget I'm a gentleman?"

"Is it working?"

"A little too well."

"Good."

She slithered her hand down the center of his torso, loosening a few buttons along the way. When her fingers slid across his warm skin, Maxwell's hand flew to his chest.

"Fran, we agreed. We can't. Not while the children are here."

"Who said we were?"

"But you were – "

"Enjoying touching and caressing the man I love. Kind of like you kissing me awake late last night."

Maxwell's face flushed in embarrassment. He glanced down then looked at Fran with a sheepish grin.

"I wondered if you'd remember that."

"I thought it was just one of the many sexy dreams I had of you. I didn't realize that you kissed me awake until I saw the garment bag hanging on my closet door and the two boxes sitting in my chair."

She paused and smiled at Maxwell. Cradling his cheek in her palm, Fran gave him a quick peck on the lips.

"Everything's gorgeous by the way. You didn't have to do that. Thank you so much."

"I did have to do that and you're more than welcome sweetheart." Maxwell pulled her arms off his shoulders. "I want to give you the last part of your present."

"Another gift? Maxwell, you're going to spoil me."

"Why, because I'm showering the woman I love with presents?"

"You don't have to buy me things to show or prove your love for me."

"I know I don't. Fran, I want to do this. I enjoy indulging you." Taking her hand, he laid a soft kiss across the back of her fingers. "I hope you like it."

She followed his gaze across the room. Her eyes widened at the large bouquet placed at the center of the small table. Fran let her hand drift from his and walked toward the couch.

"Oh Maxwell. They're beautiful. I've never seen anything like them before." She turned to face him. "You really shouldn't have."

"Yes I should have. You deserve all this and so much more."

"Thank you Max."

He chuckled then folded her in his embrace. "You're welcome darling." Wiping the stray tears that began to fall from her eyes, Maxwell kissed the tip of her nose. "Aren't you going to read the card?"

"There's a card?"

"There's always a card Fran."

She brushed the remnants of her tears away and searched through the flowers until she found the card. Plucking the card from its envelope, Fran's eyes scanned the cursive script written across the center.

"Again, you will note that this is in my own writing."

Dresses are red, flowers are blue; you are every dream come true.

Fran looked into his bright green eyes. "Do you mean it Max?"

"Of course I mean it." He turned her fully toward him and pulled her in his arms. "You are absolutely every dream I've ever had come true."

"Even if I've caused the occasional nightmare?"

Maxwell looked at Fran, unsure of how to take her comment. When he saw her wink then watched the corners of her mouth curve into a grin, he relaxed and returned her smile.

"The only nightmare you could ever cause is leaving me to live an embittered life a sad and broken man."

"Maxwell, you are everything I've ever hoped for. I love you."

"I love you too Fran."

He took her by the hand and led her to the sofa. Settling in the corner of the love seat, Maxwell pulled Fran into his arms and kissed her cheek.

"I originally planned to give you all of your gifts at one time."

"What changed your mind?"

"You did actually."

Fran turned in his arms. "I don't understand."

"Yesterday I was sitting here thinking about how much our relationship has changed within the last month. I remembered our first shared meal together. And what nearly happened later on that night.

When I realized that evening was our first unofficial date, it dawned on me just how inadequate our other dates have been. And then I heard your voice."

"My voice?"

"Yes. Do you remember the day of our picnic? When you told me that you and Mr. Abrams had been discussing our relationship and he told you that we had been dating?"

"Yes I remember that."

"And do you remember what you said to me?"

"Of course. I told you that I appreciated your originality but I wished you told me we were dating."

"And you were right. How I went about our courtship was…unique but it wasn't worthy of you."

"Max, I didn't have a problem with our dates. The only problem I had was that you kept it secret from me."

"Exactly. You deserve to be romanced properly."

Fran slid to the other side of the couch to face him. "And who says I wasn't?"

"I do."

"Maxwell – "

"Hear me out Fran."

Maxwell rose from the sofa and began to pace the straight between the love seat and his desk.

"I thought Sara would be the only woman I'd ever love. It's no secret when she died, part of me died with her. Then you swept into my life and turned my world upside down. I didn't know how to respond to you. Part of me couldn't deny my attraction to you yet another part of me felt shame for thinking of you in less than platonic terms.

It took me a while to realize that I had fallen in love with you. I couldn't allow myself to indulge in those feelings and by doing that I hurt you by pushing you away.

I risked losing you because I didn't want to face my fears. I've wasted two years of our lives together instead of giving into what I felt for you and letting it develop the way it should."

She slid her fingers across his cheeks and held his face in her hands. Holding his steady gaze, Fran spoke in soft measured tones.

"You made up for hurting me when you finally admitted you loved me. The past doesn't matter any more. The only thing that matters is that we love each other and that we're together."

"Exactly. And for that reason, you deserve a proper date. I don't want you to look back on our lives and wonder what it would have been like if we had dated like a normal couple."

Fran threw her head back and laughed. Her soft nasally chuckle filled the room.

"Maxwell, there has never been anything normal about us. The way we met was unusual, the way we became friends was unusual, and the way we fell in love was unusual. Why should our dating follow a typical pattern?"

"I know we went the roundabout way of entering a relationship. This is the one thing that I'd like to be somewhat normal. Would you grant me the honor and privilege of escorting you to the Rainbow Room for dinner and dancing?"

"When?"

"I could always make reservations for Friday or Saturday."

"As long as it's not on Wednesday."

"Why?"

"Wednesday is Hanukkah and Christmas Eve Max."

He drew back in shock. "Hanukkah and Christmas Eve are on the same day this year?"

"It surprised me too."

"I meant to ask you when Hanukkah was this year. Are we going to your mother's or is she coming here?"

"You want to celebrate Hanukkah with us?"

"Of course darling. We celebrated the holidays with your family last year so I don't see the point of not doing it this year. Besides, I know how important it is to you."

"How are we going to do this?"

"Do what?"

"I want to be at my mother's for Hanukkah but I know you and the kids go to church on Christmas Eve. How are we going to do both?"

"Sweetheart, it's not a problem. We can go to your mother's then go to midnight mass."

"Really?"

"Really."

Fran laced their fingers together. Leaning forward, she brushed her lips across his mouth.

"Have I told you lately how much I love you?"

"Yes but would you mind showing me an example?"

"It would be my pleasure."

Sliding across the love seat, Fran slithered her arms around his neck. Raking her fingers through his hair, she watched his eyes close in anticipation of her kiss.

Fran's tongue crept across Maxwell's parted lips, seeking her counterpart. He slid his arm pass the curve of her waist, drawing her body into his.

"I love you Fran."

"I love you too Max."

He bent his head, his lips following the curve of her neck. Fran's moan reverberated against his mouth as he kissed the column of her throat. Tracing the slit of her lips, Maxwell pushed his tongue across her mouth and captured her in a consuming kiss.

Fran responded to him, furling her tongue around his when a gentle tapping on the door prevented them from going any further.

"Bloody hell, can't we get some privacy?"

"Afraid not sweetie. We live in a very busy household."

They heard another round of light rapping followed by the sound of Niles' voice.

"Mr. Sheffield?"

"Just a moment."

Slipping out of her embrace, Maxwell ran the back of his fingers across her cheek. He met her mouth in a quick peck, and with a heavy sigh, he called out to his butler.

"Yes Niles, what is it?"

Niles peered around the door then stepped fully into Maxwell's office.

"I'm sorry to interrupt. Ms. Fine, your mother is on the phone. She says she needs to speak with you regarding the family's plans for Hanukkah."

"What does she have, radar?" she murmured under her breath.

"Excuse me Ms. Fine?"

"Nothing. Thanks Niles."

Fran waited until Niles closed the door. She crossed the room and took her usual space on the edge of Maxwell's desk. Taking a deep breath, Fran picked up the phone and pressed the talk button.

"What do you want ma?"

Crossing her legs, she plucked an emery board from the cup holder. Fran absently listened to her mother, throwing in the occasional 'uh huh' when needed.

"Ma...Ma…Ma, genug already! I'll be over in twenty minutes!"

Fran hung up the cordless phone and dropped it on Maxwell's desk in frustration.

"Fran!"

"What?"

"You dropped the phone! On my desk!"

"Sorry sweetie. Ma's just such a pain in my tuchas sometimes!"

"Darling, that's her job. It's the job of every parent to be a pain in the tuchas to their children."

"Yeah, but does she have to excel at it?"

Crossing the room, Maxwell pulled her into his arms and kissed her forehead.

"What's the matter?"

"She wants me to come over and clean the menorah."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Ma always cleaned and polished the menorah. It was a wedding present from Yetta's mother-in-law to Yetta on her wedding day. My mother never let me or Nadine near that menorah, much less breathe on it!"

"Maybe she has something else to do and won't have time to clean it herself. I mean think about it Fran. Your mother's getting older. She may need your help doing a few things around the apartment."

"I know my mother Max. There's another reason why she wants me to come over. I just don't know what it could be."

"You'd better get going sweetheart. The sooner you leave, the quicker you'll return."

Sliding her arms around his neck, Fran drew him into a gentle kiss.

"I knew there was a reason I liked having you around."

"You know," he replied trailing his fingertip across her collarbone, "I am multifunctional."

"Mmm, I like the sound of that."

"Shall I demonstrate some of my…talents?"

"I'll never get to my mother's if you do." She tilted her head to one side. Her eyes drifted across his body, admiring him with an appreciative glance. "Hmm, that may not be such a bad idea. What do you have in mind?"

Maxwell threaded his arms beneath hers and laid his palms flat on the cool surface of his desk. A wanton fire brightened as his olive green gaze pierced her dark brown eyes. He lowered his eyes to her mouth, watching her lips part in a breathless gasp.

An erotic shiver coursed through Fran's body. The ardent desire reflected in his eyes drew her into a hot dark surrender. A shallow pant spilled from her mouth when his lips met the soft skin of her throat.

Her eyes drifted shut, closing under the weight of her need for him. Fran's thoughts wafted into an illicit terrain, imaging his hands and lips leaving a trail of heat across her body. A soft moan sputtered from her throat. Her fingers skimmed across his arms, rumpling the soft ivory sweater he wore.

Maxwell's hot opened mouth trailed across Fran's arched neck. He stopped for a moment and breathed in the scent of her perfume dabbed behind her ear. The deliciously soft fragrance spurred him on to explore more of her slender frame. The timbre of his husky voice convulsed through her body.

"I want you."

The knuckle of his right hand brushed her inner thigh, caressing her with feather soft strokes. He pulled his mouth from her neck and studied Fran. Maxwell felt the warmth of her shallow breath across his lips.

With her head dropped to her shoulders, his eyes traced the curve of her graceful neck. Her smooth delicate skin enticed him. Maxwell passed his tongue across his lips, anticipating another taste of her.

She clenched her eyes. Biting the edge of her lip, she waited for his lips to dance across her skin. Fran opened her eyes, ensnared by the intensity of his gaze. Her breath caught in her throat, surprised by the swiftness and fervency of his kiss.

Fran felt Maxwell's hand slide beneath her skirt. Having his hands and mouth stroke her body overloaded her senses. She felt her body descend toward the surface of the desk. Her self-control weakened as wanton desire flourished in her soul.

The memory of a completely occupied house unexpectedly surfaced in her mind. As much as she wanted him, Fran knew they had to stop.

"Max? Max?" He swallowed trying to focus on her through a fog of carnality. His breath, ragged and strained filled the room. "Maxwell, we can't. We're not alone. Remember?"

Maxwell closed his eyes and drew in a regretful breath. Blowing out a soft sigh, he opened his eyes. Nodding in concession, he stood up and took a step back. Watching her slide off the edge of his desk, he pushed his fingers through his hair.

"Perhaps it's a good thing you're going to your mother's. The last thing we need is for Niles or one of the children to walk into my office and find me ravishing you across the desktop."

"If we send them away, are you willing to make good on that suggestion?"

His voice was seductive tinged with a hint of caution. "Fran."

"Okay, okay. I get your point." Straightening her clothes, she kissed him on the cheek and headed toward the door. "Don't forget you promised to take me on a real date."

"I'll make the arrangements while you're gone. Maybe it'll help take my mind off of…other things."

"Maybe it will but I doubt it."

Fran sat on the couch skimming through the latest issue of Vogue. Her eyes briefly dropped to her watch then flipped to the next page. She twisted her neck when Maggie, Brighton, and Grace came thundering down the staircase.

Pulling her coat from the closet, Maggie asked, "What time is your mother expecting us Fran?"

"We're supposed to be there before sundown," Brighton replied checking his reflection in the mirror.

"Is your name Fran?"

"Ma wanted us there before sundown but it'll be okay if we're a little late."

Maxwell pushed back his shirtsleeve to check the time as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Niles!"

"Yes Mr. Sheffield?"

"Is the car ready?"

"Outside and waiting."

"Brighton, make sure you get those bags from the closet."

Fran adjusted the scarf around Maxwell's neck. "What bags?"

"Hanukkah presents for your parents."

"You remembered we exchange presents during Hanukkah?"

"Actually your mother called to remind me," he said helping Fran slip into her jacket, "Come on darling, we'd better get a move on. We're already running behind schedule."

Sylvia smoothed her hands over her black and leopard trim skirt as she made her way across the living room. She paused before opening the door and said a silent prayer, hoping tonight, combined with the recent change in Fran and Maxwell's relationship, would push them a few steps closer to the altar.

"Happy Hanukkah!"

"And Happy Hanukkah to you too," Sylvia said as Maxwell, Maggie, Niles, Grace, Brighton, and Fran filed into the apartment. "You made it just in time."

"Where do you want us to put our coats Sylvia?" Maxwell asked.

"Just put them in Fran's old room."

Shrugging off her coat, Fran asked, "When did you call Max to remind him to buy gifts for Hanukkah?"

"About a week ago. I wanted to make sure he didn't forget. Besides, Mr. Sheffield, Niles, and the kids are family."

Before Fran could respond, Maxwell, Niles, Grace, Brighton, and Maggie entered the living room.

"Fran, go tell your father dinner's ready." Turning to the girls, Sylvia said, "Maggie, Gracie, would you be dears and help me set the table?"

"Sure Sylvia," Maggie replied.

Grace nodded her head in agreement. "Not a problem."

As Maggie put the place settings on the table, Grace and Sylvia carried the dishes to the living room. When Fran entered the kitchen, she heard her mother humming in tune with her father singing Maoz Tzur.

"Oy, I love hearing Morty sing."

"Hanukkah wouldn't be the same without daddy's singing."

Brighton pushed the swing door open and leaned in the kitchen.

"Sylvia, can we eat now? I'm starving."

Rolling her eyes, Maggie pushed pass Brighton to set the plate of latkes on the table.

"You're always starving."

"Children, please! Show Morty and Sylvia the decorum and respect with which you were raised."

Brighton and Maggie glanced at each other then at their father. Lowering their eyes, they each muttered an apology.

"Sorry dad."

Sylvia nudged Fran with her elbow as they entered the living room.

"See how well the kids fit in? Like I said, they're family."

"Genug already ma!"

"What did you prepare for dinner Sylvia?" Niles asked.

"Brisket, latkes with apple sauce and sour cream, and blintzes. Then a little later we'll have kugel, rugelach, and sufganiyots."

"Sufaniyots?" Grace asked. "What are sufaniyots?"

"They're jelly doughnuts sweetie," Fran said patting Grace on the cheek. "Remember?"

"Oh yeah. Those are great."

Rolling her eyes, Sylvia flicked her tongue over her lips. "Mmm, delicious."

Morty recited a brachah rishonah before dinner. As the meal progressed, Sylvia and Morty shared memories of past Hanukkah's when Nadine and Fran were children with Maxwell, Niles, Maggie, Brighton, and Grace.

After dinner, Maxwell helped Fran and Sylvia clear the table and put dinner away. Watching them work together, a wide smile grew on Sylvia's face.

"You know, when Morty and I were dating, we were together so often, people use to ask us how long were we married. And look at you two. Oy, you're beautiful together darlings. I'm going to go see if Morty's ready to light the menorah."

Staring at Sylvia exiting the kitchen, Maxwell turned toward Fran.

"What the devil was that about?"

"That was my mother dropping a subtle hint about us getting married."

Before he could respond, Sylvia yelled out, "Fran, Mr. Sheffield, we're ready to light the menorah! Hurry up!"

"Was she being subtle then too?" Maxwell whispered as he pushed the door open.

He jumped slightly when she playfully popped him on the arm. Mirroring her smile, Maxwell followed Fran into the living room.

"Here Mr. Sheffield," Sylvia said handing him a yarmulke, "you'll need this."

Taking his place beside his son, Maxwell placed the skullcap on his head, noting that Niles, Brighton and Morty had already donned their yarmulkes. Gathering around the dinette in the living room, Morty lit the Shamash candle then sung the blessings for the night.

Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheynu Melech Ha-Olam, asher kid'shanu b'mitzvotav vitzivanu l'hadlik ner shel Chanukkah

Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheynu Melech Ha-Olam, sheh-asah nissim l'avoteynu ba-yamim ha-haym baz'man hazeh.

Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheynu Melech Ha-Olam, sheh-heh-chi-yanu v'key'manu v'hee-gee-anu laz'man ha-zeh.

After he finished the blessings, Morty lit the first candle then recited the Haneirot Halalu prayer.

Haneirot halalu anachnu madlikin Al hanissim ve'al haniflaot Al hatshu-ot ve'al hamilchamot She-asita la'avoteynu Bayamim hahem, bazman hazeh Al yedey kohanecha hakdoshim.

Vechol shmonat yemey Chanukah Hanerot halalu kodesh hem, Ve-ein lanu reshut lehishtamesh bahem Ela lirotam bilvad Kedai lehodot u'lehalel leshimcha hagadol Al nissecha veal nifleotecha ve-al yeshuotecha.

Maxwell, Niles, Brighton, Grace, and Maggie stared into the flickering candlelight, absorbing the beauty of the prayers. A sense of reflective calm enveloped them, each lost in their private thoughts.

Fran nudged Brighton lightly with her elbow. "B, take the menorah and place it in the window."

"Be careful with that Brighton."

"I will dad," he replied setting the candelabra on the windowsill.

Sylvia left the room and returned a short time later carrying a shopping bag in each hand. Rattling each bag, she stood in the center of the living room.

"Time to open presents!"

"Ma, where's Yetta? I thought she was coming over."

"When I called her at the home, she told me to leave her alone because she was in the middle of a hot streak."

"Oh, you mean playing mah-jongg?"

"You wish mah-jongg."

The living room filled with the mingled sounds of delighted squeals and high-spirited laughter. Shreds of blue and white wrapping paper decorated the floor like confetti as each person tore into their present.

"What a cool bracelet!" Maggie said fastening the multicolored ornamental chain. "Thank you so much!"

"It's not only decorative," replied Sylvia, "it's suppose to ward off the evil eye. Oh before I forget, I put a few chocolate gelt with all of your gifts."

Securing his watch around his wrist, Brighton tapped the acrylic face.

"Thanks for the watch."

"Morty thought you'd like it," Sylvia said. "The numbers are in Hebrew."

"Look daddy! Sylvia gave me a matryushka draydel!"

"Yes I see Grace," he said picking up the nesting dolls. Returning the draydel to his daughter, Maxwell said, "Sylvia, they're absolutely beautiful. Where ever did you find it?"

"Let's just say they came from a friend who owes me a favor or two." Turning to Brighton, she said, "Bring me that other shopping bag. Fran, Niles, and your father haven't opened their presents yet."

"Sylvia, you didn't have to get us anything," Maxwell said.

"Speak for yourself sir."

Maxwell shot a warning glare at his butler. Feeling the sudden need to escape his employer's wrath, Niles excused himself and left the room.

"Nonsense. Mr. Sheffield, you, Niles, and the kids are mishpocha. I want to thank you for the lovely gifts you've given Morty and me. He's wanted a new tallit for a while now. I have to tell you, that the wood challah board and knife are just gorgeous. And that coffee cake? Hoo-ha! I can't wait to slice into it."

Sylvia licked her lips at the thought of the chocolate chocolate chip walnut cake.

"How did you know what to get me?"

Patting her hand, Maxwell smiled and replied, "Lucky guess."

Sylvia took the bag from Brighton. Digging through the tissue paper, she took out a box, passed one to Maxwell then handed the other to Fran.

"Where's Niles?"

Fran peered into the kitchen and replied, "Shoving a jelly doughnut in his mouth."

"Why is everyone picking on me tonight?" he asked entering the living room. "What did I do?"

Sylvia's eyes dropped to Niles' empty hands. "You didn't bring them with you?"

"I'll go get them."

"What are you two waiting for? Open your gift!"

Tearing into their boxes, Fran and Maxwell each pulled out a silver-plated heart shaped cup.

"Sylvia, the cup is very nice. Thank you."

"Put them together."

"Put them together?" Fran asked.

"Oy, do I have to do everything? Put your cup and Mr. Sheffield's cup together."

They looked at each other. Setting the cups on the table, Fran and Maxwell pushed the two halves together.

"That's a very unique cup Sylvia. Two separate cups uniting to become one."

"So, Mr. Sheffield, does it give you any ideas?"

"Ma!"

"What? There's no harm in asking."

"Who wants a doughnut?" Niles asked as he reentered the living room.

"Thank God," Fran blew out. "That should keep her quite for a good minute."

Reaching for a doughnut, Sylvia said, "Niles! You haven't opened your present."

"How could I? You sent me in the kitchen to get the doughnuts." Breaking open the box, he pulled out two frosted glass cruets. "Why aren't I surprised this is food related?" he muttered. Smiling, Niles said, "Thank you Sylvia, you really shouldn't have."

"When I saw them, I thought you'd like them. You can fill them with different dressings so the next time we come over for dinner you can fix one of your delicious salads."

"Oh joy."

Maxwell and Fran sat on the couch staring at the flickering flames of the menorah. Their attention shifted as Sylvia, Morty, Brighton, Grace, Maggie, and Niles played the dreidel game.

Kissing her temple, Maxwell said, "There is one other gift."

"There is?"

"Yes."

He pulled out a square black velvet box and handed it to Fran. She drew in a sharp gasp of breath as she shook the lid off. Inside laid a silver-hinged bangle bracelet inscribed in both Hebrew and English that read "I am my beloved's: my beloved is mine."

"Oh Maxwell. It's beautiful. Thank you." She leaned over and left a gentle peck on his lips. "I got you something too."

"Fran, you didn't have to."

"I know. I wanted to." Watching him open his gift, she said, "You know, you're not the easiest person to shop for mister!"

He pulled out a crystal sculpture. Maxwell looked at the object in his hand, amazed how the images inside the sculpture changed each time he turned it.

"Sweetheart?"

"It's a Jewish symbols prism made from lead crystal. When you turn it on each side you see something different: a Kiddush cup, a menorah, and a Star of David." Fran shrugged her shoulders then continued. "I thought it would look nice in your office."

"I'm putting this on my desk. Thank you Fran."

As they leaned in for another kiss, Sylvia blew out a contented sigh. Clasping her hands together, her face broke into a wide grin.

"Isn't love grand? Mazel tov darlings!"

Maxwell leaned back in his chair, rolling the ballpoint pen between his fingers. Although he stared at the writing implement in his hand, his mind was elsewhere. The past few days were a blur: spending the first night of Hanukkah at Morty and Sylvia's then off to midnight mass.

A light smile danced across his face, remembering the delighted squeals and shocked appreciation from Fran, Maggie, Brighton, Grace, and Niles as they opened their gifts on Christmas morning. His smile widened, slowly morphing into a wicked grin.

As much as I enjoyed spending time with my family and watching them open their presents, I was completely enraptured of the time I spent alone with Fran when we exchanged our gifts.

His eyes fell to the engraved side of the pen he held in his hand. The light from the lamp on his desk bounced off the gold plate. Maxwell closed his eyes as their conversation reverberated in his mind.

"I know it's not much but when I saw it, I thought of you."

"Darling, it's perfect. Thank you," he replied kissing her cheek. "What made you think of me?"

"Actually it reminded me of your eyes."

He glanced down at the emerald green pen held in his hand then looked at Fran.

"I'm not following you sweetheart."

"You have a hint of gold reflected in your eyes when you're happy." Ruffling the hair at the nape of his neck, she said, "Of course I prefer your eyes when they turn dark green."

"Oh?" he replied arching his eyebrow. "When does that happen?"

Fran brushed her lips across his, teasing him with a gentle caress. When an impatient growl rose from his throat, she chuckled then took his mouth in a sensuous kiss.

"When you're turned on," she whispered breaking their kiss.

Bringing his mouth against her lips, Maxwell replied, "Then my eyes must stay that color whenever you're around."

"I guess they do. To be completely honest, I'm not always looking at your eyes."

"Then what are you looking at when you're looking at me?"

"I'm usually focused on what a fabulous kisser you are but if you want me to look at your eyes instead, I can do that."

"Don't change on my account. I wouldn't want to…break your concentration."

Fran leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on his lips. She smiled, brushing her lipstick from his mouth with her thumb.

"Have I thanked you for my gift?"

Maxwell nodded, fingering the diamond and ruby open-heart necklace at the hollow of her throat.

"However, I wouldn't object to you thanking me again."

"You must be reading my mind," Fran replied as their mouths drifted toward each other.

A gentle tap on the door shook him from recalling how their tender kiss melded into one of passion. Clearing his thoughts with a mental shake, Maxwell looked up to see Niles standing in the threshold of his office.

"Is it five thirty already?"

"Yes sir. Will you need anything else?"

"Would you make sure Geoffrey is in front of the house when we're ready to leave for the Rainbow Room?"

"Of course Mr. Sheffield. I hope you and Ms. Fine have a wonderful evening."

"Thank you Niles."

Maxwell stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the red and black striped tie when a flash of red caught his attention. Shifting his eyes to the upper right corner of the mirror, his smile grew wider as Fran descended the staircase.

"My god Fran. You look…" He turned fully around and walked to the base of the stairs. "You look absolutely spectacular in that dress."

Fran paused before reaching the landing. Resting her hand on the banister, she let his eyes admire how the red beaded halter dress clung to every curve of her body.

"You did a wonderful job of selecting clothes for me. Thank you Max."

"You are more than welcome Fran." Maxwell reached over and kissed her cheek then offered her his arm. "Shall we?"

"We most certainly shall," Fran replied slipping her arm in the crook of his elbow.

Fran peered out the window, seduced by the beauty of the stars glimmering against the pitch-black heavens as the limousine rolled silently through the streets of Manhattan. In spite of the slight chill in the air, it was a beautiful Saturday evening. She sat back in her seat, enjoying the soft blur of the city lights.

It took all of Maxwell's reserve not to slide across the seat and pull Fran into his arms. His eyes drifted appreciatively along her lithe frame, mesmerized by her beauty. The moments were rare that he could study the woman sitting next to him without fear of interrogation.

From her hair elegantly piled atop her head down to the red high-heeled sandals, her beauty left him awestruck.

"Have I told you how absolutely lovely you look tonight?"

"I seem to recall you mentioning how spectacular I look," she replied with a mischievous grin, "but I wouldn't object to hearing it again."

"Spectacular and lovely don't begin to justly describe how you look in that dress. I think this dress tops that sequined gown you wore to the backer's party when you first came to work for me."

"Ah yes. I remember that night very well."

"I was quite taken with you that night."

"You were?"

Maxwell nodded, lacing their fingers together. "I couldn't take my eyes off of you, much to CC's chagrin."

"Why do you say that?"

"I'm not sure if it was the comment I made or the way I looked at you. Perhaps it was both. Regardless, she was none too pleased with me. At least until the backers started handing us checks."

A bittersweet smile crossed Fran's face as she recalled that evening. Her eyes flicked toward Maxwell when she felt his fingers caress her cheek.

Watching her break his gaze, Maxwell wondered what was bothering Fran. He tipped her face toward him, waiting for her eyes to meet his.

"What's wrong sweetheart?"

"I was thinking about that evening. Everything was going well until you fired me. Why did you fire me? It had to be more than catching Maggie kissing Eddie on the terrace."

"I never met anyone like you before. I wasn't use to having my authority as a parent usurped. Do you know how vexing it is to be attracted to someone who can stir up both feelings of anger and passion within the same breath?"

"Then why did you ask me back?"

"Of the string of nannies I hired, not one of them had an instant connection to the children as you did. Their loyalty to you left me in complete awe."

"You were the last person I ever expected to see again."

"I know. Under different circumstances, I never would have gone after you but I couldn't lose the woman that my children had such reverence for." Maxwell raised her arm and laid a soft kiss on the back of her hand. "There are no words to describe how pleased I am that you agreed to come back. My life would be very different today if you hadn't."

Breathing in the enticing scent of his cologne, Fran placed a gentle kiss on his cheek and snuggled against his chest.

"I take it you made reservations for the Rainbow Room?"

"Yes. I wanted to give my favorite girl the night of her life."

"And then we're going to the Rainbow Room?" she asked throwing him a quick wink.

He laughed, pulling Fran into his arms. Locking her firmly in his embrace, Maxwell leaned over and met her mouth in a quick kiss.

"Fran you're incorrigible."

"You want me to change?"

"Absolutely not. As the song says, I love you just the way you are."

The hostess looked up as Fran and Maxwell stepped off the elevator and made their way to the entrance of the restaurant. Gathering the menus together, she greeted them with a bright smile.

"Good evening Mr. Sheffield. Please follow me."

They followed the young woman across the room, threading their way between the tables. Seating them at a table facing Central Park North, the hostess waited until Maxwell held out the chair for Fran then took his own seat before setting the menus on the table.

"Your waiter will be with you momentarily. Enjoy your evening."

Maxwell stole a quick glance at Fran. An idea formed in his head as he watched her eyes flick over the menu.

"Fran, do you love me?"

"Of course I love you."

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes." Arching her eyebrow, she tilted her head to the side. "What are you up to Max?"

"May I order for you?"

"What?"

"May I order for you?"

"What is this, a test to see how well you know me?"

With an impish grin, he replied, "I think I've known you long enough to know what you'd like."

"Okay mister, you're on. I'd like to see how well you really know me."

The waiter appeared at the edge of their table. Introducing himself, he stood poised ready to take their order.

"For an appetizer, we'll have the Caspian Sea Osetra Caviar. For the first course, the lady will have the Jumbo Shrimp Cocktail and for the second course, she'll have the Double Lamb Chops with Herb Flavored Olive Oil.

I'll have the Pate de Foie Gras with Pear and Port Wine essence followed by the Beef Tenderloin with Béarnaise and Black Truffle Sauce."

"And to drink?"

"A bottle of Veuve Clicquot, nineteen eighty nine."

"Very good sir. I'll be back with your appetizer."

When they were alone once more, Fran flashed Maxwell a broad smile. She sat back in her chair and put her hands together in a light applause.

"Well done Mr. Sheffield."

"Thank you, thank you. I accept all manners of gratitude."

"Just one question. How do you know I didn't want the lobster?"

"To be honest, I had considered it," he replied skimming his eyes over her suggestively, "but then I figured you wanted something you could really sink your teeth into."

She fanned herself with her hand. "Did it suddenly get hot in here or what?"

Before Maxwell could respond, the waiter stopped at their table and set a dish of caviar, toast points, and smoked salmon on the table accompanied with frozen vodka.

"I'd like to propose a toast." Raising her shot glass, Fran said, "To a wonderful evening with fabulous company."

He tapped the edge of her glass with his. "To a magnificent woman, who is not only beautiful but was gracious enough to allow me the privilege of sharing this evening with her."

Their eyes joined over the rim of the glass as they sipped the vodka. They took turns feeding each other appetizers until they heard the sound of a discreet cough. Pulling apart, they paused as the waiter removed the hors d'oeuvres from the table. He set the first course in front of them then disappeared.

As their dinner progressed, Fran took in the sprawling beauty of the room. The draperies and paneling, decorated in brilliant tones of gold and silver, enhanced the furnishings of the ballroom. Setting her fork down, Fran watched the couples dancing on the revolving floor.

Maxwell watched Fran with a curious eye. Although they conversed throughout dinner, she didn't display her usual bubbly demeanor.

I wonder what could be troubling her, he wondered watching her pop a sliver of lamb chop in her mouth. I'll bring it up later.

"It's beautiful isn't it?"

She turned at the soft sound of Maxwell's question "What?"

"The Rainbow Room. It has a certain…" Maxwell let his thoughts drift. His mind searched for a word to aptly describe the historic landmark.

"Magic?"

"Yes. There is something magical about the Rainbow Room."

"The view of Manhattan is absolutely amazing."

They finished dinner in silence, ignoring the buzz of conversation that swelled around them. Pressing the napkin to his lips, Maxwell signaled the waiter.

Removing their plates, he asked, "Would either of you care for dessert?"

Fran eyed Maxwell. Dotting the corners of her mouth, she leaned forward and folded her hands on the table.

"Since you ordered dinner for me, mind telling me what I'd like for dessert?"

"May I have the menu again?"

"That's not necessary sir. For dessert, you have the option of Baked Alaska, Hot Chocolate Soufflé with Mascarpone Cream, Vanilla Filled Crêpes with Fresh Berries or our selection of home made ice creams and sorbets."

A faint smile crossed Fran's face as she watched him mull through the choices for dessert.

"The lady will have the Hot Chocolate Soufflé with Mascarpone Cream and I'll have a snifter of Cognac VSOP."

"I'll be back with the lady's dessert and your cognac."

When the waiter was out of earshot, Fran folded her arms across her chest.

"You think you're so smart, don't you."

"I'm very smart when it comes to you."

"Good answer."

Maxwell looked at Fran, watching her lips quiver as she tried to hold back her laughter.

"Do you know how lovely you are when you smile?"

Fran's eyes dropped. A slight blush colored her face. "You certainly are in full flirt mode tonight, aren't you?"

Before Maxwell could reply, the waiter set the brandy and dessert before them on the table.

"Can I get you anything else?"

"No thank you," Maxwell replied, "not at the moment."

He swirled the cognac in his hand, warming the amber liquor. Taking a sip, Maxwell watched in detached amusement as Fran consumed tiny bites of the soufflé.

Fran closed her eyes. A hum of pleasure escaped her throat when she finished devouring the last of her dessert. Opening her eyes, she found Maxwell staring at her, bearing a crossed look of merriment and desire.

"Did you enjoy your dessert darling?"

"Immensely."

Maxwell sipped the last of his cognac as the final notes of Stardust blended with the gentle applause of the audience. When the orchestra began its rendition of Moonlight Serenade, Maxwell stretched his hand across the table to Fran.

"Darling, would you care to dance?"

"I'd love to."

Fran rose from the table, sliding her hand into his. Resting his fingers at the small of her back, the warmth of Maxwell's hand spread across her skin as they took the dance floor.

"Are you having a good time tonight?"

"Yes."

"This is better than our other dates."

"Do you really think so?"

"Maybe not better. This is more of what I had in mind for the two of us."

"Not that tonight isn't special but I loved our other dates."

"Really?"

"Yes. Those dates weren't typical dates, at least not anything I ever experienced. That's what I love about them."

Maxwell traced the indentation of Fran's spine, strumming his fingertips across her soft skin. Burying his nose in her upswept hair, he inhaled the blended scent of lavender and rosemary.

"You're awfully quiet tonight sweetheart."

"Am I?"

"Yes." She pulled slightly from his embrace and met his piercing gaze. "You haven't been your usual effervescent, charming self all evening. Do you want to talk about it?"

Fran stared at him for a moment as the question weighed in her mind. Part of her thought that her fears were trivial but her unyielding curiosity spurred her decision. She nodded then looked up to meet his eyes again.

"Do you want to go for a walk?"

"Yes."

As they made their way from the dance floor, Maxwell caught their waiter's attention and asked for the bill.

"I'll be right back. I'm going to the ladies room to freshen up."

He kissed her cheek and watched her until she disappeared from his line of sight. His thoughts of her were broken when the waiter set the bill holder on the table. Skimming through his wallet, Maxwell plucked out a credit card and handed the holder back to the waiter.

The waiter returned a few minutes later, handing the bill holder back to Maxwell with the tab tucked inside. As he scrawled his name across the receipt, he noticed Fran approaching the table. Thanking their server, he flashed a quick smile toward Fran.

"Are you ready to go sweetheart?"

"Yes."

They linked their arms together and exited the restaurant. Stepping into the elevator, Maxwell tapped the button for the ground floor and waited for the car to begin its descent.

He held his silence as they strolled leisurely around Rockefeller Center. Maxwell waited, hoping she would confess her concerns to him without him prompting her. Just as they came full circle, Fran's soft voice broke the quiet spell that surrounded them.

"I worry sometimes."

"About what?"

"About whether I'm good enough for you."

Maxwell stopped walking and turned toward Fran. "Where is this coming from?"

"It's something I've thought of off and on for the last two years. I know I'm nothing like Sara and I never will be."

"What do you mean?"

Fran sighed then looked at Maxwell. "I'm never going to be as smart and as cultured as Sara. And knowing this makes me wonder about our future."

"First of all, you and Sara share a great deal of common qualities."

"Like?"

"A strong will and a sharp wit. Both you and Sara have a loving, caring, personality. You're thoughtful, devoted, and empathetic toward others. Shall I go on?"

"Please."

"You have great instincts about people, about me as did Sara. She didn't allow me to get away with letting my work consume me." He paused, tracing her jaw with his finger. "Darling don't you realize that not having academic knowledge doesn't mean you're not an intelligent woman?"

"By whose terms Max? Let's face it, we're physically attracted to one another but that's not enough to make a relationship work. You need someone that shares common interests. Someone you can talk to about different things like literature and art and all that other fancy stuff that you know."

"Fran, you have the kind of intelligence that most people envy. Common sense is solid and real, more than learned information. And you're wrong. We have many common interests. We've had five years to get to know each other and each day that we're together, our commonality will only serve to strengthen our bond."

"But what if that's not enough? What if after five years of working together and being friends still isn't enough to keep us together? Then what? I don't want to lose you Max."

"You're not going to lose me."

"How do you know? How do you know that you won't wake up one day and wonder why you're with me? Wonder what you saw in me in the first place?"

"Fran – "

"They're legitimate questions Max. You yourself had doubts about us. Isn't that part of the reason why you took back saying that you loved me?"

The silence blossomed between them as Maxwell stared at Fran. He opened his mouth to speak but quickly shut it. Closing his eyes, Maxwell had to reign in his disjointed thoughts. He opened his eyes, reached for her hand, and laced their fingers together.

"There were a number of reasons why I took back saying that I loved you. Most of those reasons had to do with fear." He shook his head. "I was confronted with my biggest fear the day you left me on the ferry. I've already lost one woman I loved. I couldn't face losing you too. Fran you mean everything to me."

"You mean everything to me too Max. But you can't deny that our differences will come between us. It has in the past; it will again in the future."

He released her hand. Folding his arms across his chest, Maxwell said, "All right Fran. You want to lay our differences out in black and white. To see why we wouldn't be compatible?"

"Yes."

"On paper, you are educationally and financially beneath me. Your family doesn't have the position that mine has and as my mother has so often and vehemently pointed out, classes don't mix. Entering into a relationship with you would be suicide to my family's status."

Fran shrank back, her lips quivering at the harshness of his words. She curled her nails into her palm, willing herself not to cry.

"And you know what?" He watched Fran slowly shake her head, a myriad of emotions dancing in her eyes. "If I cared about any of those things, how I feel about you wouldn't matter."

Grasping her by her upper arms, Maxwell pulled Fran toward him. "I love the generosity of your heart. I love the sweetness of your demeanor. I love the fact that you don't give up what you want without a fight. Your passion, your zeal for everything in life tempers my stoic personality. I love you Fran. I need you desperately in my life."

A track of tears spilled from her eyes. Brushing the wet trail from her cheek, Maxwell cupped her jaw.

"Fran, let me ask you a question. Do you love me?"

"Of course I love you."

"Do you doubt my love for you?"

"No."

"You trust me don't you?"

"Yes. But Max – "

"Fran, if you love and trust me, then you have to believe that our friendship and love will be enough to sustain our relationship."

"Do you really believe that?"

"Absolutely because I believe in us."

Her face broke into a radiant smile. Slipping her arms around his neck, Fran drew his head down to meet her mouth in a light kiss. Her fingers splayed across his cheek, caressing the softness of his skin.

"Thank you. I needed to hear that."

Maxwell wrapped his arms around her, locking Fran in the warmth of his embrace. He gently swayed her, feeling the tension drain from her body.

"There's no need to thank me darling," he said kissing her temple. "I'd do anything to allay your fears."

"I love you."

"I love you too. Fran, please believe me when I tell you that you are a strong intelligent woman. And I am privileged to have you in my life."

"I do Max. I don't have to tell you how grateful I am to have you in my life."

Bringing her body fully into his, Maxwell bent toward her and met her lips in a soft caress. He pulled away then pressed his mouth to hers in a passionate kiss.

The need for air broke Fran from Maxwell's embrace. She flashed him a warm contented smile before wrapping her arms around him and snuggling in the crook of his neck.

"Max?"

"Yes Fran?" He leaned back to look at the woman he held in his arms.

Leaving a gentle peck on his lips, Fran whispered, "Take me home."

Maxwell entered the house with his arm linked securely at Fran's waist. Locking the door, he took her by the hand and led her up the staircase. They stepped quietly through the hallway, trying not to shatter the silence that shrouded the mansion.

Stopping outside her room, Fran smiled up at Maxwell as she leaned against her door.

"Do you want to come in for a night cap?"

"You are utterly charming Ms. Fine. You're too much of a temptation but I'm going to have to decline your request."

"Can I ask why?"

"I'm afraid."

"Afraid? Afraid of what?"

"I'm afraid that my behavior will be less than gentlemanly toward you."

"And is that a bad thing Mr. Sheffield?"

"For right now I'd have to say yes." Taking her hand in his, Maxwell lifted her arm and pressed his lips to her fingers. "Thank you for a lovely evening."

"I should be thanking you. I had a wonderful time tonight. Dinner, dancing, and a fabulous companion."

Fran slid her hands over his arms as he pulled her body to his. Maxwell nuzzled her mouth then captured her lips in an unhurried kiss. Their tender exchange ended, skimming the edge of frenetic abandon.

Maxwell stared at Fran for a brief moment then cradled her jaw in the palm of his hand. Caressing her lips in a soft, gentle kiss, he pulled from her embrace.

"Good night Fran."

"Good night Max."

Maxwell lay in bed, thinking of the tender kiss he shared with Fran before bidding her good night. Closing his eyes, he traced his mouth with his fingertips.

He smiled in the darkness at the memory of her pliant lips lingering against his. Shifting against the covers, Maxwell scrunched the pillow beneath his head.

Soon I'll have the pleasure of discovering you, of uncovering the secret places where your scent changes while I trace every plane and curve of your body.

I relish the day when you lay beside me, cradled securely in my arms. You will be where you've always belonged my darling: with me forever.

With that final thought, Maxwell drifted peacefully off to sleep with dreams of Fran completing his future.

"Knock knock."

Maxwell looked up as Fran entered his office. He watched her glide toward him, admiring how the turquoise square neck sweater and green skirt she wore accentuated her curvaceous frame.

"Hello sweetheart. What do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

Giving him a quick peck on the lips, she slid onto her usual spot on the edge of his desk.

"I just popped in to tell you that I'm going out but I'll be back before we go to ma's."

"Where are you going?"

"A shop and nosh session with Val. She's depressed and needs to talk."

"Oh? What is she depressed about?"

"I think the better question is what isn't she depressed about."

Maxwell nodded his head in comprehension. " Ah, I see."

"You don't mind do you sweetie?"

"Of course not. Are you taking the town car or the limo?"

"Neither. I'll catch a cab or the subway."

"Wouldn't you prefer taking one of the cars?"

"Max, I'll be fine."

"Fran, I'd feel better if you took one the cars."

"I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."

"You thought you could take care of yourself three years ago and we saw how well that turned out."

Sliding off his desk, Fran stood before him with her hands on her hips. Narrowing her eyes, she bent toward him.

"What exactly are you saying Max? That I'm so naïve of my surroundings that I need some kind of supervision to make sure nothing happens to me?"

"Fran I love you. I'm concerned for your safety. The only point I'm trying to make is that if you take the town car or the limo, you wouldn't have to wait for a cab. You can avoid the crowds in the subway and after Val is dropped off, you will be delivered home safely."

"I understand and appreciate your concern Max but do you have to be so condescending?"

"Am I?"

"Some times you come across that way. That dig you made about when I was mugged three years ago is a perfect example."

"I only used that as an example of why you should take one of the cars. I was not trying to be patronizing."

"And yet that's how you came across."

"Darling, I don't want to argue with you over something so trivial."

"I didn't come in here to fight with you either. All I did was come in to let you know I was going out for a few hours. You're the one who started all this mishegoss in the first place."

"I didn't mean to upset you." Rising from his chair, Maxwell traced her cheek with the back of his hand. "I'm sorry sweetheart. Will you forgive me?"

Fran folded her arms across her chest, skeptically eyeing him. When he flashed a boyish smile, she felt her anger subside.

"The only reason I'll forgive you is because I love you."

"Is that the only reason?"

"Well, you do have that adorable factor working in your favor."

"Thank goodness for small favors." Maxwell slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her body into his. "I do love you Fran. I didn't – "

"You know what?" Fran said pressing her fingers to his mouth. "Sometimes you talk too much."

"Does this mean you have a plan for keeping me quiet?"

"Uh huh."

"And when are you going to…put your plan into action?"

"There's no time like the present."

Sliding her hands over his arms, she locked her fingers at the base of his neck. Fran weaved her hand through his dark wavy tresses and pressed her mouth to his. Parting her lips, she flicked her tongue against the crease of his mouth.

Maxwell drew a slight breath, acquiescing to the gentle yet demanding tease of her kiss. He breathed out a soft moan as she threaded her tongue inside his mouth and curled it around his. Sliding his fingers beneath her sweater, his hand danced along the curve of her waist.

Their moans escalated within the confines of his office as he pulled her further into him. Their hands fervently roamed across each other's body, matching the intensity of their kiss.

"I love you so much Fran."

"Oh Max…"

His hand began to skim the soft skin of her back when the door to his office suddenly swung open. A sharp gasp tore from her throat at the unexpected break in his tender assault of his lips trailing down the column of her throat.

"I'm sorry sir, Ms. Fine. I didn't know you were…busy."

"What is it Niles?" Maxwell asked his voice laced in irritation.

"Ms. Toriello is here."

"Thanks Niles." Fran looked at Maxwell and blew out a soft sigh. "I'd better get going."

"All right sweetheart. Have fun."

Maxwell placed a quick peck on her lips. Giving her hand a light squeeze, he watched her start toward the door.

"Fran?"

"Yes Max?"

"You're taking one of the cars aren't you?"

She rolled her eyes. "We are not having this discussion again, are we?"

"It was never settled darling."

"I don't want to get into another argument with you Max."

"So then it's agreed? You're taking one of the cars?"

"Yes Maxwell, I'm taking the town car. There. Are you happy?"

"Perfectly."

"I'll see you later. Love you."

"I love you too Fran."

He sighed, watching her sexy saunter from his office. A smug grin crossed Maxwell's face as he slid into his green leather chair.

"I knew she'd see things my way."

"Just remember," said Fran leaning on the doorjamb, meeting his surprised gaze, "you won the battle, not the war!"