A/N: I'm very sorry for the long delay. I've had an eventful couple of weeks and writing just wasn't on my mind for a while. But I promise to update more regularly as the story continues to progress and take shape. Hope you enjoy it!
Chapter 6
"Fran, are you sure this is a good idea?" John asked as he straightened his tie for the tenth time.
They were on the doorstep of the Sheffield household at precisely six-thirty. John had reluctantly agreed to the dinner invitation with much persuasion from Fran. His coldness and distance the past week was finally beginning to wear off, but from his nervousness Fran could tell he was becoming tense again.
Fran grabbed his hand and squeezed it as a sign of reassurance. "Honey, they're going to love you. And Mr. Sheffield is anxious to meet you again."
John narrowed his eyes at her. "But Fran-"
"Don't worry," she cut him off, "you have nothing to be jealous of. He promised me he'd be a perfect gentleman. Now stop fidgeting with your tie, you look handsome as always." Fran smoothed her fingers down his gold-patterned tie and took a deep breath. Here goes nothing, she thought.
Fran rang the doorbell and instantly a man with short, dark blonde hair opened the door. He was dressed in a black suit and had gentle blue eyes that made Fran smile.
"Good evening," he said in a proper English accent. "Mr. Sheffield has been expecting you." He stepped aside so the couple could enter.
Fran and John walked into the foyer completely entranced at the elegance of the townhome. The ceilings were high and trim, the connecting living room spacious, and the adjacent staircase as grand as a palace. It truly was remarkable.
"Wow, I've never seen a more beautiful home," Fran remarked. "It certainly is a lot bigger in the inside than it is from the outside."
The blond-haired gentleman chuckled while he took Fran's jacket. "Thank you, Miss Fine. My name is Niles. I'm the sheffield's butler."
Fran continued to gaze around the mansion. Yes, a mansion, she decided. It certainly looked the part. "Nice to meet you, Niles. This is my fiancé, John." Fran pulled John forward by the hand. He and Niles shook hands and exchanged a smile.
"Pleasure to meet you, sir."
"Did you hear that, honey?" Fran whispered to John. "He called you sir. Is this place fancy or what?"
"We English aim to please, Miss Fine."
Fran's smile widened. She liked Niles already. He was someone she envisioned she could talk to forever if she wanted.
"Did you hear that?" John whispered back to Fran. "He called you Miss Fine." He smirked and Fran swatted him in the chest.
"Be nice," she relayed. John looked skyward as if threatened but continued to smile at her playfulness. Finally, now he could breathe a little.
"Fran!" Grace's voice called out from the top of the stairs. Before Fran could respond she ran down the stairs and threw her arms around Fran's waist.
"Gracie, angel!" Fran squeezed Grace in a tight, loving hug.
"You're really here! Daddy said you'd be here but Maggie and Brighton didn't believe him!" Grace was talking a mile a minute and Fran had to concentrate in order to understand her.
"Of course I came. I love spending time with you kids." Looking up, Fran noticed Maggie and Brighton coming down the stairs as well. And before she knew it, she was surrounded and encased by the Sheffield children. "Kids, I'd like you to meet John. He's the man I'm going to marry at the end of the summer."
John stepped forward with a big smile plastered across his face. He loved being around kids, but the Sheffield children looked less than pleased to meet him.
Fran introduced the kids one by one. "John, this is Maggie, Brighton, and Gracie."
"Hello, it's nice to finally meet you," John said. "Fran talks about the three of you all the time."
"How come she never talks about you?" Brighton asked, a forced smile on his face.
"Brighton Sheffield!" came Max's calm but curt tone. He casually strode over from the direction of the living room to where Fran and John and the children were standing in the foyer. He took a moment to greet Fran with a friendly kiss on the cheek and a shake of John's hand before reprimanding his son. "Brighton, apologize to Mr. Stevenson. That's a very disrespectful thing to say."
Brighton looked down at his feet and muttered his apology. "I'm terribly sorry about that, John," Max continued.
"No harm done, Maxwell," John assured him. "Kids are kids, right? They say whatever comes to mind."
Niles cleared his throat to break the sudden tension to announce dinner. "Dinner is ready, sir," he addressed Max.
"Wonderful! Children, why don't you go first?"
The adults followed the children to the dining room where six place settings were already dished out and waiting.
Throughout dinner Fran was her usual boisterous self while John remained quiet unless spoken to. The kids lit up and burst into laughter when they heard the latest mishap of the Fine family. Max smiled as he watched the scene play out in front of him. His kids were laughing and happy. Fran was ecstatic and John . . . Well, he looked a little out of place but tried to remain in good spirits. He kept glancing Max's way whenever Fran laughed, placing his hand over hers, as if to emphasize she's mine. It made Max scrunch his brows in irritation. What were they - teenagers - fighting over the same girl? He gripped his fork tighter and looked down at his plate.
"Maybe you could take Brighton to a Mets game sometime," Fran asked John. "He loves baseball."
Max snapped his head up at the suggestion and immediately looked at Fran. "Fran, I can always take him. I am his father after all."
Fran was sitting directly to Max's right, within reach, and she placed a hand on his forearm. "But B tells me you're always too busy to take him."
"I'll make the time then. He's my son-"
"That's ok, Dad," Brighton piped up, not wanting to start an argument.
"It's not ok, Brighton-"
"You know what?" John interrupted. "Why don't the three of us go? A boys day out. That way the ladies could do whatever they wanted."
"What a great idea, sweetie!" Fran exclaimed. "Max?"
Maxwell looked less than pleased but managed a smile anyway. "Oh, um, I suppose-"
"Cool!" Brighton nearly shouted.
"A friend of mine is a season ticket holder so he can get us seats by the dugout," John explained.
Max sat back in his chair, stunned. What was it? Interrupt Maxwell Sheffield Day? He glanced over at his son, who was beaming with excitement and talking animatedly with John about baseball. What happened to the mischievous, smart-mouth boy he saw earlier? Was he too invested in his work to pay attention to his children's needs?
Soon enough, the dinner conversation shifted to several different topics and when dessert was served, Maxwell was in need of a few peaceful moments in his office, along with a glass of something strong.
And sure enough he got his wish.
After dessert everyone retired to the living room, except Max, who politely retreated to his office. Once Niles left a decanter and a glass on his desk, Max moved out onto the terrace. He took a big swallow and savored the burn of the whiskey as he looked up at the dark sky. There was a slight breeze and it was cooling, pleasingly contrasting with the warm feeling the alcohol was stirring his insides.
He let out a sigh. Tonight went well, he thought, but he wished that he and Fran could have been alone. He didn't know what was wrong with him. He shouldn't be lusting after a woman who was engaged, knew it was morally wrong, but he couldn't help himself. No matter if she reciprocated or not, he deeply cared for Fran. Sure, they had little in common hobby-wise, but the children brought them together in a way he couldn't explain. It just was.
"There you are."
Max jumped a little, startled by Fran's voice. Even in high heels he didn't hear her come up behind him.
"We're missing you inside." Then she laughed. "John's teaching the kids to play cards."
Max resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Instead he rotated his jaw to the side to curve his jealousy. "Isn't that nice of him. Now my children will be prepped for the casinos."
Fran was taken back by the sneer in his tone. She leaned over to look at his tumbler - not empty - and could smell the smoky aroma of brandy. She plucked the glass from his hand and set it out of his reach beside her on the outdoor table. "Maxwell, what's gotten into you?"
He moved away from Fran and balanced himself against the short brick retaining wall. "Nothing. I just needed to get some air."
"You've been out here for almost half an hour. It's not like you to retreat from your family."
"You don't know anything about me, Fran, or my past. You only know what the children told you."
Fran remained quiet for a moment. He was so fragile - emotionally. She knew he still carried the pain of losing his wife but that was the extent of it. Below the surface there was a lot more to Maxwell Sheffield she didn't know about. But she couldn't just let him wallow in self-pity and sulk. So she reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, making him turn and face her. "Max, talk to me. I can't bear to see you like this. You're one of the strongest men I know. You can't keep whatever's bothering you inside."
Max looked into Fran's caring dark eyes, struggling for words. Then he gazed up at the black sky, void of stars, but still peaceful. "I don't know what to say, Fran. I could tell you I miss my wife - I think about her everyday - but I'd just be lying to you."
Fran swallowed hard. She had an inkling of where this was going, and she didn't know how she'd take it, but he needed someone to talk to. "Then what is it? You can tell me."
"I want to be happy again." Max let out the long breath he'd been holding. There, he admitted it. "You make me happy," he almost whispered, but both heard it loud and clear. He turned to look at her again and her eyes were on the verge of tears.
"Max . . ." Fran breathed out, stunned by his admission. She laid a hand on the brick wall to steady herself. They stayed silent while his words sunk in. Then their hands began to migrate towards each other like magnets until their fingers interlaced.
Fran finally felt the tears she'd been holding back slowly drift down her cheeks. She smiled despite herself and tightened her grip on his hand. "I'm glad I make you happy," she said.
With his free hand, Max reached down and wiped away as many of her tears as he could. "I'm sorry if it's too much. But I needed to say it. You've made the children so happy in the weeks you've known them. I don't have enough words to thank you. But most important, you brought the light back into my life. Since we first met, you're all I can think about . . ."
Fran closed her eyes as more tears fell. She couldn't let him finish. She knew what was coming and she couldn't handle it. They were too close. There was a third person in the picture and she couldn't just cut him out of it.
"Fran, I . . . "
Fran put a finger to his lips to quiet him. She noticed the lingering pain in his eyes was gone, replaced with something carefree and light. What he told her made her heart skip a beat. She knew what he wanted and she needed to give it to him - if only this one time. She wrapped both hands around his neck and pulled his face down to hers. Their lips met in a crash, both surprised by the impulsive act.
Max wrapped an arm around Fran's waist to pull her as close to him as possible and buried his other hand in her long, curly hair, finding the back of her neck. He nudged Fran's lips with his tongue until she opened, letting him explore her mouth further. They pulled back long enough to catch their breath before Max leaned down and slanted his mouth over hers in another deep kiss. All the blood rushed to his head as all he could think about was Fran and the feel of her lips on his. So warm and soft. He could stay like this forever.
Finally, Fran was the one to pull away. Both their chests heaved with every intake of breath. From the glow of light in his office, Max could see Fran's flushed cheeks and smudged lipstick. He felt slightly foolish as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His heart was beating overtime, but it was worth it. After weeks of keeping her at arms length, he had no idea how wonderful it felt to indulge in a passion he kept buried for so long.
"I-I think I should go," Fran said, breaking his reverie. She backed out of his embrace, too afraid to look into his eyes and see the honest emotion. "Thank you for having me . . . and John over for dinner." Then she moved towards the terrace doors and disappeared into his office.
"Fran, wait!" Max called out to her, but she was already gone. "Shit," he mumbled under his breath. He turned around to the brick wall, leaning over on his elbows, and buried his hands in his hair. What the hell was he thinking kissing her back? Now he probably just ruined everything they had between them. He went too far, he knew it. But . . . But he loved her. He squeezed his eyes shut as he silently admitted his true feelings. It felt too soon to be in love, but he knew in his heart that he was deeply in love with Fran Fine, engaged or not. "And now I screwed everything up."
He remembered the half empty glass of brandy he was drinking earlier. He picked the glass off the ceramic table and downed the rest of the alcohol. He needed the aching burn and numb feeling it gave him. Especially after what just happened. He entered his office in desperate need of another glass only to find Niles waiting beside his desk.
"Miss Fine and Mr. Stevenson are leaving, sir," Niles said.
Max set down the empty glass. "Thank you, Niles, I'll be right out." With a nod, Niles turned on his heel. Again, Max raked his fingers through his mass of thick hair. How long was Niles standing there? he wondered. Had he witnessed the passionate embrace he shared with Fran? Dear God he hoped not.
He waited another minute to collect himself before sending his guests on his way. He knew he probably looked flushed from their heart-stopping kiss. Once he felt comfortable though, Max meandered out to the living room.
The kids were hugging Fran goodbye. John gave Brighton a high-five and a little wave to the girls. It seemed like the children had opened up more with John.
"I'm very sorry I disappeared on our evening. I wasn't feeling well," Max said, coming to a halt in the foyer.
"Sorry to hear that, Maxwell. I hope you get better," John replied with a slight quirk of his lips.
Max smiled back at John. For heaven's sake! Did the man have to be so damned polite? he thought. "Thank you, John. It was wonderful seeing you again." The two men shook hands.
Meanwhile, Fran remained silent. She didn't trust herself not to say anything in front of John after what happened between her and Max.
"Fran, I enjoyed having you over for dinner," he said, turning to face her. "I hope we can do it again sometime."
"Of course," she replied over the lump in her throat. When he leaned down and kissed her cheek, she was reminded by the hot, open-mouthed kiss they shared minutes earlier. Damn, now she was getting that feeling again. Her insides fluttered and her knees felt weak at the slight feather-touch of his lips on her cheek. When he pulled back, he was smiling in that boyish way of his that made him look years younger.
"I'll, um . . ." Her mouth was dry and her mind clouded. "Maybe I can take the girls shopping sometime soon?"
"I'm sure they'd love to."
"Yeah, please, Fran," Maggie and Grace said at once.
"Definitely." She gathered all three kids and hugged them one more time before taking John's hand.
"Thanks for having us," John addressed Max. "And for the wonderful meal, Niles."
"You're very welcome, sir." Niles bowed slightly as a form of goodbye.
"Yes, and thank you for coming," Max said. "Take care." He waved as Fran and John made their exit then turned in the direction of his office.
"Dad, where are you going?" Brighton asked.
"My office. I have something I need to finish."
"But you were just in there."
"Yes, I know. You and your sisters should be getting ready for bed."
"But it's only eight-thirty . . ."
"Brighton-"
"Daddy, I'd like a bedtime story. Please?" Grace pouted with her bottom lip.
Maxwell let out a quiet sigh. "Alright. I'll meet you upstairs."
Grace hugged her father around the waist then ran up the stairs. Brighton and Maggie followed.
Later, when Max knocked on Grace's bedroom door and stepped inside, she was already in bed waiting for him. He plopped down next to her and stretched his legs out then wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Which bedtime story will it be tonight, sweetheart?"
Grace turned to look at her father. "Tell me a story about Mommy."
Max looked over at his daughter. She was so young and innocent in her pink pajamas and tired eyes. She didn't deserve to have an empty space in her life. "Well," he started, "there are so many stories I could tell you, but sweetheart, tonight just isn't a good time for Daddy. Alright?"
"Why not? Don't you love her anymore?"
Max was taken back by his daughter's words. Was that really what she thought of him? "Of course I do. I think about your mother everyday. And sometimes when I really miss her, I just look at you and Maggie and Brighton and I'm reminded of what she gave me; a piece of her that's grown in all three of you."
Grace leaned her head into Max's shoulder. "Does that make you sad, Daddy?"
"Oh, I don't know, sometimes, I guess. But I try not to feel so sad anymore."
"I can tell. You have Fran and she doesn't make you sad."
Max's brow went up. When did his daughter get to be so perceptive? he wondered. "That's right. When she's near I don't feel sad. But sweetheart, you have to understand that Fran and I are just close friends." Ha! his subconscious laughed at him. Friends indeed! Wasn't it just moments ago that he silently admitted his love for Fran? So much for being close friends.
"Oh." Grace looked down at her hands.
"But, hey. You know she'll visit anytime she can, right?"
Grace nodded in reply. "Daddy, will you stay for a while?"
Max leaned down and placed a kiss to the top of her head. "Of course I will." He paused to look Grace in the eyes, making sure she understood what he said next. "Your mother loved you very much, sweetheart. Along with your siblings. Even though she's not here physically, she'll always be a part of you; no matter how you grow up or how you face the world. Never forget that, alright?"
"Ok, Daddy."
Max smiled and closed his eyes. It was an eventful evening. He and Fran kissed; he finally admitted he was in love with her; and he just shared an emotional talk with his youngest. He wondered what tomorrow would bring because right now everything seemed just right. Well, almost.
