Thank you for the comments and follows/favorites so far! I really appreciate it! Feedback is most welcome!

I hope you enjoy the 'familial' twist I've added in regard to Gold. And no, I do not own 'Once Upon a Time.'

Chapter 2

That evening, Nick was in his apartment with his son, Bae. Bae had an MBA and helped run the business end of things at Nick's shop – doing the books, etc. He was working toward his PhD in business administration at NYU, which is how he met his girlfriend Emma Swan, a grad student in Criminal Law there. Nick moved in with Bae in his SoHo apartment when he opened the shop – it was far more convenient than driving in from the north end of town. Bae spent every other night at Emma's apartment anyway, so he had the place to himself most of the time. But it was nice being able to live with his son. He missed far too much of Bae's life growing up due to his work, and he was doing his damndest to make up for it.

"So she just – kissed you? For no reason?" Bae asked, as Nick re-hashed the entire day's events to him over dinner that night.

"Yes. Pretty much." Nick replied.

"And you seriously had no idea who she was?" Bae asked.

"She said her name was Martha. And I honestly don't think I've seen a thing she's done."

"Yeah, you probably wouldn't – she was on this TV show back when I was in my late teens – it was called River's Road – really popular with my generation, she was pretty hot back then. I uh – I had a poster of her on my wall."

"Oh, fuck Bae, why did you have to tell me that?" Nick asked as they moved into the living room and sat down on the sofa. Bae pulled out his smart phone and searched for her Wikipedia page.

"What do you know, she was telling you the truth. Her real name is Martha Francis. She's 31, almost 32, born outside of Melbourne. Probably changed her name for the industry." Bae informed him. "Anyway, she mainly does these 'chick flick' type movies. Emma's dragged my ass to enough of them, I think I've seen most everything she's done. Oh my god, Ruby loves her, she's gonna flip when she hears about this."

"Do NOT tell your sister about this Bae, I swear, I will kill you if you do. That's all I need is her blabbing about this to your mother." Nick said.

"Alright, I'll keep quiet about it. By the way, don't forget about Ruby's party on Sunday. And uh – I'm supposed to be the one to tell you so that you don't flip out over it when you get there. She has a new boyfriend, he'll be there."

"Oh, shit. How bad is this one?" Nick asked. Ruby was his daughter, and she was turning twenty-one next week. She was also attending NYU, always loved the theatre, getting her degree in stage design. Money down the drain as far as Nick was concerned, what the hell was she going to do with that?

"Actually, he's a good guy. Emma introduced them – his name is Graham, he's in the same masters program as Emma, studying criminal law. They've been dating for a couple of months now. She just hasn't wanted to bring him around you."

"What's wrong with him?" Nick asked.

"There nothing wrong with him – he's pretty stable, I actually think this might go somewhere."

"What's wrong with him?" Nick asked again.

"Why do you assume there's something wrong with him?" Bae asked.

"Because there always IS. That last one she had was a real prize – Billy, the mechanic. Mousy little twit. Never even looked me in the eye, I don't like that."

"Dad, that's because you scared the crap out of him, you tend to do that with Ruby's boyfriends. You did it with my girlfriends too, it's a good thing I found Emma, she's not afraid of you."

"Emma scares me Bae – I like the girl, but I wouldn't cross her if my life depended on it."

"Good. Trust me, you wouldn't want to. And I promise, Graham is a good guy, and he's good for Ruby. He's just -"

"He's just what?" Nick asked.

"He's Irish." Bae replied. Nick looked up at him angrily. "Dad come on – every Irish guy on the planet isn't an asshole."

"No, just all of the ones I've known." Nick replied.

"Well anyway, just – be nice, okay? I'm heading over to Emma's, I'll probably stay there tonight."

"I thought she was working tonight." Nick said.

"She was, but – she ended up staying home, she's not feeling good, she thinks she has some kind of stomach virus, she said she's been throwing up on and off all day."

"So you're going there to play nursemaid then? Have fun." Nick said.

"Yeah – real exciting evening. She said she's feeling better now, but I should probably be there for her anyway. Maybe we'll watch a Belle French movie." he teased.

"Shut up." Nick said, throwing a magazine at him.

"Speaking of that – be right back." Bae said. He left the room and came back with a DVD and handed it to his father. "Emma forgot to take this home, we watched it the other night. Thought you'd want to see it." The movie was called November Rain – and a picture of a slightly younger Belle French in the arms of a handsome young man was on the cover.

"Very funny, Bae." Nick said, tossing the DVD aside.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you, she's on Letterman tonight, too. She must have been on her way there right after your little encounter. Maybe she'll talk about you." Bae said.

"I doubt that." Nick replied. "Go be with your vomiting girlfriend and I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye dad – see you later." Bae said, and he left the apartment.

Nick stared at the DVD box for about ten minutes, reading over the synopsis, credits, and every other detail that he normally wouldn't even care about. 'Chick flick' was right – yesterday you couldn't have paid him to sit through this sort of nonsense. He could probably summarize the entire plot before he even watched a minute of it. He finally set the box aside and picked up the book he was reading. After staring at the same page for nearly half an hour, he reached for the DVD. "Oh, fuck it." he said to himself. He loaded the movie into his DVD player and sat back to watch. After he watched it, and yes, he did figure out the entire plot of the film five minutes in, including who would fuck whom, who the real villain was, and who would die in the end, he tuned in to Letterman to watch her interview. She wore the same dress she had on when she left his house – the one she had just bought, the one he cut the tag out of. She was lovely. She was funny, a great storyteller, and just seemed like an all-around sweet girl. She casually mentioned in the interview that she had done a bit of shopping that morning in SoHo and wished she could get to New York more often. So did he. But he doubted he'd ever seen her again, at least not in person. Yes, today was a very – surreal day, Nick thought as he turned off the television and went off to bed.

Four days later, Nick was in his shop looking through his orders. "Jefferson!" he called out, and Jefferson came out from the back room.

"Yeah?" Jefferson asked.

"Did this customer ever call back to confirm the color they wanted?" he asked. Jefferson looked at the order.

"Oh, yeah – they did." Jefferson replied.

"And what was their answer?" Nick asked.

"Oh yeah – navy blue. Sorry, I meant to tell you that yesterday." Nick sighed.

"Write it down next time, Jefferson. Please. It's not that difficult." Nick said.

"Yes sir." Jefferson replied. "Oh - that's right, some girl called the other day too."

"Some girl? Do you have more information than that?" Nick asked.

"Yeah – she said her name was Martha something. Franklin, Fredericks, or -"

"Francis?" Nick asked.

"Yeah – Martha Francis, that's it." Jefferson said. Nick was silent for a moment.

"When did she call?" Nick asked.

"Two or three days ago. Said for you to call her back." Jefferson told him.

"Did she leave a number?" Nick asked.

"She said she was staying at the Carlyle hotel." Jefferson said, and he went back into the other room. Holy fucking shit. She called him, she ACTUALLY called him. Nick immediately logged onto his computer and looked up the number for the Carlyle hotel. When he located it, he took a deep breath and picked up the phone.

"Yes, I uh – could I have – Martha Francis' room, please?" he nervously asked the man on the end of the line. He was stunned when he was put through. He was even more stunned when she actually answered. "Yes, hello, this is uh – Nick Gold – we – met the other day and I spilled on you – I mean, I – spilled tea on you and – no I wasn't trying to be aloof I just – didn't get the message you called until today, I swear. I uh – tonight? Dinner? Sure, that – that would be lovely. Yes – yes, I'll meet you there, seven o'clock. Thank you." Nick hung up the phone. Thank you? Jesus, Nick – you've dealt with tyrants and bitches in the business world your whole life, and here you are acting like a teenage boy off to get his first shag. Get a grip.

Nick spent an hour and a half at home determining what to wear that evening, and quickly realizing that he had hardly anything in his wardrobe that was suitable for a date with a movie star. Was this even a date? He wasn't even sure about that much. It was dinner – just dinner. With a pretty girl. Who was famous. And young enough to be his daughter. No big deal. Then why on earth was he so damned nervous?

Finally deciding on a pin-striped black suit with a purple shirt, he got dressed and hailed a cab to the Tribeca Grill. He gave her name at the door and was ushered to a table far in the back corner of the restaurant – she was there waiting for him.

"Hi." Belle said, standing up as he approached the table. She gave him a quick hug. "I'm glad you could come."

"My pleasure." Nick said, holding out her chair for her as she sat back down. "So – Martha, right?" he asked, smiling at her.

"You found out who I am, huh?"

"My son – he was coming in the apartment as you were leaving. Recognized you immediately." Nick told her. "I apologize that I didn't – I'm not much of a movie goer."

"It's alright. It's actually kind of nice. And my name really is Martha – my dad and my friends back in Melbourne, they still call me Marty."

"I know. My son, he – he googled you." Nick said.

"Of course he did." Belle said.

"So why Belle, then?" Nick asked.

"Well, I started out when I was seventeen as a model, and my agent didn't think that Martha Francis would make it on the cover of Vogue magazine. He had me change it to Marty French, but even that wasn't going over well. He said I was 'too beautiful' for a plain name like Martha and Marty sounded too masculine. Then it hit him – he liked the surname French, figured why not use the French word for 'beautiful' and – Belle French was born, just like that. I've gotten used to it, but – I do miss Marty sometimes. Listen, I uh – I just wanted to see you and apologize for my behavior the other day. I don't usually do that."

"Do what?" Nick asked.

"Kiss perfectly strange men in their apartment. I mean not that you're strange, you're not. Or maybe you are, I really don't know you enough to know that but – well at any rate – I'm sorry. I do impulsive things sometimes, I don't know why."

"It's alright – Belle – or Marty – what do you want me to call you?" Nick asked.

"Belle is fine." she replied. The sit in awkward silence for a moment.

"I, uh – I shipped that tapestry yesterday." Nick said.

"Thank you. I had it sent to my manager, she takes care of all of my deliveries." Belle said. "So you uh – the store, that's your – full time thing, is it?"

"Yes. Been in business almost five years. I love it." Nick said.

"What did you do before that?" Belle asked.

"I was a – stockbroker, and a corporate raider, and pretty much an all-around bastard. About seven years ago, things happened in my life that made me re-evaluate what I was doing with it and – I realized that my options were prison, death, or a dramatic change in lifestyle. I opted for the latter. Don't regret it one bit." Nick told her.

"So you went from Wall Street to making rugs for tourists?" Belle asked.

"Yes." Nick replied.

"Don't hear about things like that happening often." Belle said.

"No, I don't think my story is a typical one."

"Might make for an interesting movie." Belle commented.

"Only if Daniel Day Lewis could play me." Nick joked. "Speaking of movies – I watched one of yours the other day, my son gave it to me."

"Which one?" Belle asked.

"November Rain." he replied.

"Oh, shit. Not that one." Belle said, clearly embarrassed.

"Well, it wasn't that bad."

"It was crap. And the guy that played my love interested kept trying to cop a feel of my breasts in every scene. Total ass. I told my agent I'd never work with him again."

"Well you – you did a fine job in it, I thought. Your death scene was very believable. I even cried a bit." Belle laughed.

"Well, thank you – it's a tricky thing to die well on screen." Nick smiled at her. They continued their conversation for over an hour until their bill came.

"I've got that." Belle said, reaching for the check.

"No – Belle, call me old-fashioned but in my generation the gentleman pays. No matter how much more money his date makes."

"Was this a date?" Belle asked.

"I don't know – was it?" Nick asked.

"I thought it was just dinner but – alright then. Maybe it was a date. Sort of." she said. Nick took out his credit card and paid the bill. "Thank you – for dinner."

"You're welcome. So, uh – you're still leaving town at the end of the week then?" Nick asked.

"Yes. Two more nights." Belle said.

"Are you free tomorrow?" Nick asked, feeling a bit more confident than when the evening started.

"No." Belle replied. "I'm free Sunday night though."

"Oh. Sunday is good then – oh crap, I can't. My daughter has her birthday party that night, I'm sorry."

"It's alright. How old is she?" Belle asked.

"She turns twenty-one. I have her and Bae, my son – normally this wouldn't be a big deal, but I was a pretty shit father to my kids when they were growing up. I've really made an effort to turn that around in the last few years, I get on well with them now and I don't want to do anything to ruin that."

"It's fine. You know, I – I like parties. I could go as your date. If you wouldn't mind."

"You want to go to my daughter's party? It's nothing big, just her and her new boyfriend, my son and his girlfriend, and her roommate and her roommate's fiancée. It's at her flat in Greenwich, it'll be quite boring." Nick said.

"I could use a bit of boring sometimes. Unless you don't want me to go." Belle said.

"No, I uh – I'd like you to go. So um – do I pick you up or what?" Nick asked, as they walked outside together.

"How about I meet you at your shop? What time is good?" Belle asked.

"Six. Is that alright?" Nick asked.

"Six is fine. I'll see you then." she said. Belle gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before she got into her cab. "Thank you for dinner, Nick. I had a nice time. I'll see you Sunday then." Nick stood and stared down the street as her cab drove off. What the hell just happened? Five days ago he was just another business owner in SoHo and now he has a fucking date with fucking movie star Belle French. And he still couldn't figured out how – or why – any of this had happened. It was still – surreal. But he couldn't wait for Sunday. He couldn't wait to see her again.