A/N: Hello everyone! I wrote this chapter as quickly as I could and hope it lives up to your standards. Again, special thanks to arty60 and PrettyLady5! Your consistent reviews keep me going! Hope you enjoy this part as our love triangle continues!
Chapter 7
Fran wrapped her arms around his neck as Max fused his lips with hers. She exhaled a moan into his mouth when their tongues met. Teeth and lips meshed as the heat between them increased to a point where they had no intention of letting go.
She curled her hands in his wavy dark hair, holding on for dear life. He held her gently by the waist while his lithe fingers caressed her hips through the fabric of her sweater.
Max pulled back only to gasp for air. "I want you," he breathed huskily, his mouth just inches from hers.
Fran tightened her hold on his neck and closed her eyes, leaning her forehead against his. When she gazed into his eyes she could see the desire and love reflected in them. Without a word she nodded her head and Max closed the distance between them. Their mouths hungrily collided once more. They continued to kiss and caress until Max curled his hands under Fran's bottom and lifted her up.
Fran wrapped her legs around him while she adjusted her hold on his shoulders. He nibbled on her lower lip and she let out a gasp at the slight sting of pain as she thought she heard a growl escape his lips. Closing her eyes once more, Fran took over the kiss. She cradled his cheek with her palm as their embrace deepened.
His arms tightened around her waist as the desire began to build into something they no longer could control. Their hold on each other seemed to last forever. Neither of them wanted to let go . . .
Fran woke up with a start. Her heart was beating rapidly and her face felt warm and flushed. Turning her head to the right she gazed over John's sleeping form. He was wearing his beloved Mets t-shirt and one arm was resting over his stomach while the other seemed to be hanging off the edge of the bed. His light snoring eased her away from sleep. Sneaking a glance at the alarm clock, it was only five in the morning.
Sighing, Fran laid back down, trying to wrap her mind around the semi-erotic dream she had. God, it felt so real. She instinctually touched her lips, remembering how he kissed her in her dream. It wasn't right, though. She shouldn't be dreaming of him. But last night she had kissed Maxwell Sheffield outside on his terrace. And he'd responded. From the moment their mouths met she knew she made a mistake. Something she could never take back. And the worst part, she didn't want to.
Fran pulled back the bed covers with unnecessary vehemence. She couldn't think straight lying in bed with John sleeping next to her. He must have felt the mattress shift when she got up because she felt his hand on her wrist. Fran froze, momentarily panic stricken that he might have read her thoughts.
"Why are you up so early?" John asked, his voice still full of sleep.
"I couldn't fall back asleep. I'm going to shower then go out and bring back breakfast. Is that okay?"
He mumbled something incoherent so she took that as a yes. His hold on her wrist released and he fell back onto his pillow, pulling the bed sheets with him.
Fran let out a long breath. Would it always be like this? she wondered. Whenever she thought of Max would panic ensue in fear of John finding out? She hoped not. It was just a dream, she reminded herself. I can handle this.
Stepping into the warm spray of the shower she allowed her mind to drift back to the previous evening. Dinner at the Sheffield home was wonderful but her conversation with Maxwell outside his office troubled her. He opened up to her in a way she wasn't expecting him to. It made her smile as she remembered that he told her she made him happy. That the children were happy again. Her job was done, right? That was what she wanted - for the Sheffields to be happy again. But her blossoming friendship with Maxwell was becoming too complicated. They shared an intimate moment. It could - and would - never happen again. John was the love of her life; she was certain of it. But Maxwell was completely different in every way.
Fran snapped her shampoo bottle closed to halt her thoughts. She couldn't keep comparing the two men in her life. It was eating her alive already. She needed to settle this once and for all.
After she dressed into a designer skirt with a matching blue blouse and slipped into her heels, Fran picked up the phone in the living room. She dialed the number on the business card Max had given her at the opening of his play. Niles answered and she felt a flash of relief.
"Good morning, Niles," she said in her most cheery tone.
"Oh, good morning, Miss Fine," he replied.
"Niles, I really wish you'd call me Fran. We don't need to be formal with each other."
"Alright, Fran. What can I do for you?"
"I was hoping I would catch Mr. Sheffield but could you give him a message for me?"
"Of course, Fran."
"Just let Mr. Sheffield know that I have an extended lunch today and was wondering if he was available to join me. I have something I need to talk to him about."
Niles smiled on the other end of the phone. His employer and this woman seemed so good together. The way they acted around each other was just so natural it didn't seem real. The only exception being that she was engaged to another man. "I'll pass it along. He should be up soon."
"Thanks, Niles."
"Anytime, Miss - Fran."
Fran smiled at his near slip-up. She liked Niles. He was so sweet and loyal. She wondered how long he and Max knew each other. They seemed to be much more than 'sir' and butler - almost like brothers. She said goodbye to Niles and told him to say hi to the kids for her.
She placed the phone back in its cradle and glanced back at the closed bedroom door. John was still asleep. He wouldn't be up until six so she had a good twenty minutes to run down to her favorite bakery.
When Fran returned with a large bag full of bagels, croissants, and pastries, John was seated at the little round dining table reading the paper.
He glanced up at her as she moved around the kitchen. "Is there any left for me in there?" He indicated the paper bag.
Fran turned and gave him a mocking glare. "Haha. And yes, there's plenty for you."
He stood up and moved towards her, wrapping her in his embrace. He kissed her slowly, in the way he did every morning. "I wished you would have joined me in the shower."
Fran giggled as his mouth trailed a path of tiny licks and kisses up her neck. "I didn't want to wake you. It was too early."
"Too early for this?" His mouth continued its assault on her neck while his hands moved lower down her thighs.
Fran let out a groan as she tilted her head to the side. She closed her eyes when she felt his fingers creeping under her skirt and between her legs. John pulled back from her neck only to take her mouth in another long, tender kiss. Fran ran her hands down his back, feeling his strength. "I-I . . ." She couldn't form a coherent word as her body surrendered to his gentle ministrations.
"I need you," he whispered against her lips.
Fran could feel just how much he wanted her from the hardness she felt against her waist. "Mmm, but sweetie, we don't have time."
They kissed again. "I'll be quick, please? I just want to show you how much I love you."
Well, when he said it like that she couldn't argue with him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and took his mouth in a deep kiss. John lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist while he walked them to the couch. He plopped down with her straddling his lap. Their mouths parted for a few heartbeats to catch their breath.
"Pity I'm already dressed for work," John whispered, looking down at his impeccable blue suit.
"But this way it's more sexy," Fran purred and leaned over to kiss him.
They made love as quickly as they could manage without wrinkling their clothing. Afterward, Fran was curled up on his lap, her head resting against the soft polyester of his shirt, listening to his heartbeat. "I love you," she said, meaning it with all her heart.
He kissed the top of her head. "Love you too, honey."
She climbed off his lap and pulled on her previously discarded panties and nylons while John zipped and readjusted his slacks.
Once they were both put back together, they ate breakfast in a content silence. John finished his cup of coffee then grabbed his keys and jacket. Fran stood and walked him to the door.
"Have a good day," she said.
"I might be home late. Harry wanted to grab a drink after work."
Fran placed her hands on his chest while he pulled on his suit coat. "Sure, go ahead. Maybe Val will want to come over while you're gone."
"Uh-oh. You and Val alone in our apartment?"
"Hey!" She playfully slapped him on the chest. "That was one time."
"I believe there was alcohol involved."
"True, and I've learned my lesson."
"Good." He winked then looked down at his watch. "Sweetheart, I gotta go before I miss the train." He buttoned his coat then leaned down and kissed Fran goodbye.
"Love you," she said as he hurried out the door.
"Love you," she heard him call over his shoulder.
Once he was out of sight, Fran closed and locked the door then went back to the kitchen. She popped a piece of a croissant in her mouth while she cleaned up the breakfast dishes. Their hurried lovemaking had added an extra bounce in her step and Fran felt like she was floating, until the ringing of the phone stalled her movements.
"Hello," Fran sang into the phone.
"Hello, Fran."
Fran smiled when she heard his voice. "Max! Hi! Did Niles give you my message?"
"Yes, he did. I'd love to join you for lunch, but I won't have very long. Things at the theater are hectic."
"Oh, that's fine. I just thought it would be nice to see each other again. We haven't done lunch with just the two of us yet . . ."
"I agree. It's long past overdue."
"Hey, I know a really great deli in Union Square near the theater district. Pret A Manger. It's fast and they have the best club sandwiches."
"Sounds tempting already. I can't wait."
"I can be there at twelve-thirty if that works for you?"
"Twelve-thirty it is."
"Ok, I'll see you then."
"Bye, Fran."
She hung up the phone and once again felt like she could walk on water. The only trouble was how to let him go. She couldn't keep spending her time with Max. She loved the life she had. And she wanted the life that she and John would share together once they married. But Max had a different hold on her. A grip that was becoming albeit a little too painfully strong. She had to pull free while she had the chance, otherwise she feared she'd lose everything.
Maxwell sat at a table near one of the tall glass windows. That way he could spot her if she walked by. He found the establishment easy enough, but she didn't tell him how busy it would be. He almost had to run over two young women just to get a table. Numerous impatient consumers gave him an angry look as he sat by himself with nothing in front of him. He looked down at his watch as if to emphasize that he was waiting for someone. Which he was.
It was twenty to one before he finally spotted Fran plowing her way through the endless line. "Sorry I'm so late," Fran apologized.
"That's alright. It would have taken me fifteen minutes just to walk across the room. You didn't mention how popular this place was."
"Oh, I didn't?" She flashed him one of her gorgeous smiles. "Well, they say you've never lived in New York if you haven't been to this place."
"Really?"
Fran shrugged. "I don't know. I just made it up."
She laughed and placed a hand on his forearm. Max looked down as her fingers subconsciously moved back and forth over the sleeve of his jacket. It was just one of her natural gestures he'd picked up on during their friendship. It made him smile at the little things she did that were beginning to have more meaning in his life.
Fran decided to endure the long line and order for the both of them while Max secured their table. He didn't want one of those sleek businessmen or high profile lawyers to steal it away. He didn't come here for nothing. He practically had to beg CC to let him leave for lunch today. Sometimes, he felt she was more a part of Sheffield/Babcock Productions than he was.
When Fran finally returned with two club sandwiches he eyed his with a critical stare. He'd never been one to indulge in simple foods such as a deli sandwich. It was always the fanciest French cuisine or the most expensive seafood. But one bite and he was in heaven. Why had he never visited this place before? he wondered.
"You like it?" Fran asked him.
With his mouth full, he nodded. "Wow, I feel like a completely different person. I'm no longer the stuffy Englishman."
Fran laughed. "Oh, Max, you're not stuffy. You just have to loosen up a bit and try new things."
"You're right. If I'm not careful I may end up eating here everyday I'm at the theater."
When they finished eating, Fran and Max continued talking. He told her about the new play he was going to option and she told him about the fall line she was coordinating all on her own.
"So you love fashion?" he inquired, which now that he thought about it was probably a stupid question to ask.
"Always have. My mother tells me it's a gift."
"Then you should come work for me. I mean, work with me . . . as costume designer."
Fran shook her head. "Oh, Max, I don't know. I've never actually designed anything on my own yet. I'm mainly just an assistant and occasionally coordinate production."
"But I can tell you'd be good at it."
"I appreciate the offer but I feel it would be too awkward. You know, since we . . ." She let her words trail off, hoping he'd pick up the cue.
"Oh, um, I guess so. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I just thought it would be nice to spend more time together."
And there was her opening. She had to let him go. In the most ironic way he was destroying her - and he didn't even know it. "Max, about that. Spending time together-"
Max held up his hand to stop her. "I know what you're going to say, Fran. That last night was a mistake and being around me is making things for you and John more difficult."
Fran stared at him wide-eyed. "How did you . . ."
"Guess?" he finished for her. "I can see it in your eyes, heart it in your voice. I know something's troubling you. And I fear that I'm the cause of your worries."
Fran placed one of her hands atop his. "Don't blame this on yourself, Max. I'm the one that started all of this. Last night was-"
"Please don't take it back," he pleaded. "It wasn't a mistake for me. You and I . . ." He turned his hand over and laced his fingers with hers. "You're all I can think about, Fran. The thought of you keeps me going everyday. I need you in my life."
Fran pulled her hand away from his. "Maxwell, this has to stop. We're friends - good friends, but I can't give you anything more."
Max turned to gaze at a spot on the floor. She was pushing him away but it only made him long for her more. Even if she was a thousand miles away he'd still find a way to be with her. He loved her. But she couldn't love him back.
"I have my own life," Fran said, causing him to look back at her. "I can't live two of them. You are a wonderful man, Maxwell Sheffield. I know you'll find someone to share your life with."
A life with you, he wanted to say but couldn't. "I should be going," he said, looking down at his watch. "CC will have my head unless I don't get back soon." He stood up and placed a few bills on the table. "Thank you for lunch, Fran. It was good seeing you again." He stepped aside to leave but she took hold of one of his hands.
"Max, you and I, we'll always be close."
Max squeezed her hand. "I know. I just wish it was different." He let go of her hand and moved towards the front of the shop.
Fran watched him leave then went to grab her purse. She noticed her hands were shaking. Why does he always do this to me? her mind screamed. He kept stirring something deep inside her and she feared that it was beginning to make its way to the surface. It was better this way, though. Now she could concentrate on loving John the way she should be.
"Ok, Val, one bottle of wine. That's it. I promised John I wouldn't go overboard." Fran and Val were at her apartment sharing a bottle of wine while they watched an old Cary Grant movie on TV.
"Is it because of last time? When we both got shnockered?"
Fran laughed, remembering that night a few years ago. "I'll never forget the look on his face when he came home."
Val shook her head, reminiscing as well. "Oh, Fran. I don't know what got into us that night."
Fran smiled. "I know. A few shots of tequila and one too many cocktails. By the way, I didn't know you could mix drinks so well."
"Yeah, at the time I was dating a bartender and cocktail recipes was all he talked about."
"At least it's not a totally useless skill."
Val nodded her head in agreement. They watched the movie for a little while in silence even though they'd both seen it a hundred times. By the end, Fran and Val were crying.
"Oy, it always gets me when they finally reunite," Fran said, wiping her tear-stained cheeks with a tissue.
Val rubbed Fran's back. "I know. If only she could have met him at the top of the Empire State Building like they planned."
"Val, you've seen this movie several times. You do know she was paralyzed in a car accident so she couldn't meet him, right?"
"Uh, yeah, I know. It just seems like a waste of time for her to just sit there and not say anything."
Fran rolled her eyes then stood up to polish off their wine glasses and refill the popcorn bowl. "I had lunch with Max today," she said. She didn't know why she brought it up, it just sort of spilled out.
"What? You did? How come you didn't say anything earlier?"
Fran shrugged her shoulders as she returned to the living room. "Cause it was just lunch."
"Yeah, lunch with a single millionaire." Val gave Fran a gentle push on the shoulder. "So how is he?"
"Good. Considering John and I had dinner at his house the previous night."
"You know you spend an awful lot of time with him."
"I know. And I keep telling myself it's because of the kids, which it is, but for some reason I can't stay away from him. I even planned to part ways with him over lunch but I still can't get him off my mind." Fran paused to look at Val. "Oh Val, he looked so rejected when he left. It's all my fault."
Val took one of Fran's hands and gently squeezed it. "Fran, is something going on between you and Max?"
"What?" Fran snapped. "Of course not. We're just friends."
"Maybe it's more than friends."
Fran sighed. "Val, would you leave it alone. There's nothing between us. I'm marrying John because he makes me happy."
Val was smart enough not to say anything more. She just wished that Fran would trust her heart. She knew her best friend longed to be married, but was it worth it when you had feelings for someone else?
"Val, you want some ice cream? I'm feeling something with a lot of fudge."
"I thought you'd never ask."
