11.
Maxwell Sheffield had to spend a hectic day at the theater, including of course, dealing with the menacing looks C.C. kept throwing at him for no apparent reason he knew of. Not to mention, returning home and having to deal with a few calls concerning future light and set coordinators, dates for costume shipping… etc. etc. Therefore, his meeting with Miss Fine was scheduled for a tad bit later on. He made sure that when his conversations were finished, Niles would immediately go and fetch her.
Niles forwarded the message to Maxwell that he had interrupted a "very intense and crucial game" according to Master Brighton, but what Max needed to discuss with Miss Fine couldn't wait any longer. She had to be aware that he must know where she is at all times and that this running off of hers was not going to be tolerated by any means.
Fran felt very ill at ease and uncertain as she stepped into Mr. Sheffield's office, following Niles. It would be their first time talking since the whole "incident."
When Niles winked as he walked back out the door, Fran felt even more uncomfortable.
Was he winking because he didn't know and Mr. Sheffield told him? Or perhaps, it was because he knew and expected something to happen between them in these short few minutes within the confines of the office.
Maxwell took a long, hard look at Fran before speaking.
God, she's lovely… It figures that when I want to talk about a serious concern of mine for her, she just has to wear something so endearing.
He eventually adjusted his sight from her short, mod-like green skirt with a designed-on, flat white belt to her white, fitted, low-cut knit sweater and finally, to her eyes. It was there that he realized that they seriously needed to talk and he needed to not waste anymore time putting it off.
"Miss Fine, you have been avoiding me."
His voice sounded awfully loud in the silent office, yet it held a certain amount of hurt, concern, suspicion and most of all—truth.
Fran froze in her spot like a deer caught in front of a car's headlights and her breath remained trapped in her throat. Her eyes immediately turned to his and she desperately tried to search him for the answers to the numerous questions plaguing her state of mind.
Does he know? Does he even remember? Does he want to take it to the next step? Or is he going to fire me? Is he upset because he expected me to be all over him after last night and is disappointed that I wasn't? What? What? Oh, no… If only I knew…
Fran couldn't recall feeling as edgy and uneasy at anytime in her life before this. She quickly took up her old habit as a teenager and began biting her nails. Only, she really just nibbled at the edge of a fingernail for the moment.
Maxwell sat up straight in his chair and focused on Miss Fine. He thought nothing of her strange manner.
"I think you have been distancing yourself from me and—" he began, moving around the pencil he was gripping in his hand. Not too long ago he had had it stashed behind his ear, and looked like any man concentrating hard at his work.
Fran cut him off.
"No, I haven't," responded Fran, instantaneously and a little too skeptically soon.
"Well," started Maxwell, beginning to disagree, but then he realized that he didn't want to argue with her. "Can you at least tell me why you are never home anymore and have neglected to tell me where exactly you've headed off to?"
"Um—"
This time Maxwell didn't let her finish.
"Not telling me about your whereabouts… not letting me know when you'll be back… I don't like it Miss Fine, I don't like it at all," lectured Maxwell, authoritatively stepping closer to Fran with each phrase, until he was eventually right in front of her with his arms crossed.
"Don't worry Mr. Sheffield, I assure you, it won't happen again," she seemed to say, scrambling all the words together.
Her heart was practically racing through her chest—the beats accelerating at his closeness.
"Please make sure that it doesn't. If you've forgotten, you do have a job here," stated Max, firmly, who then took a breath before he continued. "I also wish to apologize for yesterday at the restaurant Miss Fine, I overreacted."
Fran huffed and rolled her eyes upward.
"Lemme guess, you were able to get their money anyhow?" queried Fran somewhat spitefully, knowing damn well that he never would have apologized otherwise.
"Well… ok—yes! The point is that we treated you terribly… oh, and did C.C. say anything to you?" remarked Maxwell.
"Yeah, she said she was sorry… or at least I think she did. You see, she had a couple powdered donuts in her mouth earlier today when she was talking to me—although I could've sworn it looked she shoved them in there."
Fran furrowed her brow, thinking it over.
"I accept both yours and Ms. Babcock's apologies, Mr. Sheffield," said Fran, truthfully.
"I'm glad Miss Fine," replied Maxwell, grateful.
"Oh, okay! If that's it then I'm gonna go now."
He grabbed her wrist as she turned to walk away.
"No actually there's something else," he stated, taking a dramatic pause.
"Miss Fine, what happened last night?" asked Maxwell, his dazzling, hypnotic olive green eyes peering at her deeply, showing how serious and quite interested he was.
He was determined to know if his sleeping location was provoked by something more than hard liquor. In truth, he was worried about the coincidence of the setting of his dream being the same place as he woke up, but at the same time, felt too uncomfortable to actually tell Miss Fine anything about it.
Fran gulped.
This was precisely what she didn't want to hear. She was only a second away from making a clear getaway…
"Last night? I wasn't even here last night," she answered, while pretending to be careless and turning away from him.
When actually, she was afraid he could see right through her. In a way she was telling the truth though, because she really wasn't back until the early morning.
She had her arms crossed when he turned her a bit and walked in front of her.
"This was lying next to me on the floor…" he explained, holding up her necklace, while the pendant slowly spun around. "By the way, do you know how I ended up sleeping on the floor in the kitchen Miss Fine?"
Fran automatically reached up to touch her neck and realized it was bare. She had left evidence at the scene of the crime! A scared chill had already made its way throughout her body—she had kept that necklace on for at least a full week without removing it (except of course when she went to sleep and took a bath) and he knew that! She loved wearing it and had acquired it from her mother after she had cleaned out her jewelry box and found the beautiful heirloom.
"I… um, I don't know all about your recent sleeping habits Mr. Sheffield… and my necklace… it must have fallen off—I guess. It's fairly old and the hook probably gave way."
He handed it back to her, another tremble flowing through her as his fingers brushed her palm. She then timidly put it on, the clasp not hooking until a couple tries.
"Right next to me?"
"Heck, I dunno. Maybe? It could have fallen off yesterday morning when I was in the kitchen talking to Niles… You know, I bet it did! I'm so glad you found it for me."
Surprisingly, and for as much Fran would have betted her life on that he wouldn't, he actually believed her.
"Oh, all right. I just wish I knew how I ended up on the bloody kitchen floor."
"Who knows?" responded Fran, shrugging her shoulders with her hands out.
"Too much liquor I guess. Serves me right," joked Maxwell, giving a lopsided smile and then placing his reading glasses back on.
"I guess…" Fran responded weakly and then awkwardly smiled.
Mr. Sheffield didn't seem to even notice.
"Oh and by the way, Julian called only about fifty times today… a little obsessive if you want my opinion. I suppose you ought to give him a call," informed Maxwell, somewhat snidely.
"Thanks…"
Fran gulped in a huge breath once she turned around to leave and then slightly shook her head.
"Good evening Miss Fine," he said as she departed.
Fran was too frightened to speak another word, so she only waved as she exited. After shutting the door, she leaned against it, her chest heaving up and down.
So he doesn't know… that's good… isn't it? But then again, if he knew he might feel bad since he started it. Or at least I don't think he remembers. There was no trace of acknowledgement on his face… he would have mentioned it. If he knew, would he want me more or would he fire me for taking advantage of him in such a vulnerable state?
I was vulnerable too though…
UGH, BUT HOW COULD HE NOT REMEMBER?
She instantly became mad and distressed when it all finally seemed to sink in. What Mr. Sheffield and she had both experienced was so delicious and wonderful…
Even being under the influence of alcohol… that should have blown his fucking mind! His subconscious needs to pull that memory out of its ass and slap it right in front of that oblivious, yet gorgeous, producer's face!
Fran, her brain still racking with thoughts, turned the corner a little too quickly and bumped heads with Niles.
"Ouch," they both cried out in unison and rubbed their heads. "Sorry"
Niles saw that Fran was okay and then laughed while straightening his suit jacket.
"Jinx, you owe me TWO sodas!" joked Niles, a Cheshire grin plastered on his face.
He got a serious look on his face and then stuck his hand out and repeatedly curved his fingers in, waiting for the beverages.
"Very funny Niles," replied Fran, shaking her head in amusement. "You ain't getting any soda pop from me!"
"Oh, shucks."
"Oy, sorry for running into you Niles, it's just that I've got a lot of things on my mind and I'm afraid I wasn't paying very much attention."
"It's okay Miss Fine, I'm all right and I'm sure that hair of yours alone provided a pretty good barrier!" he commented, chuckling.
Fran joined in his laughter.
"Niles, can I ask you a question?"
By now, the both of them had made it into the kitchen, their usual hangout spot.
"Certainly."
"You see this friend of mine—"
"Miss Fine! Every time someone uses that line they are only speaking of themselves! So you might as well just say it's you, because I'm going to believe it is anyways," declared Niles.
"Oh, all right—you caught me!" confessed Fran.
And Fran end up telling him the whole story of her and Mr. Sheffield, leaving out the details of the intensely intimate moments of course and making him fully aware of how distraught this situation made her.
"So that explains the hickey…" he concluded.
She protectively shielded her neck with her smooth, delicate hand. Apparently she hadn't covered it up well enough with cosmetic concealer.
"NILES!"