Author's Note: Here are added scenes and dialogue from my original fan fic 1978. For those of you under 35, it might be helpful to stream SATURDAY NIGHT FEVER (The 'R' version, not the 'PG' one, starring John Travolta, and introducing Fran Drescher-before you read this story). Inspired by The Kibbutz Season 3, Episode 12. That episode also inspired another fanfic on my page titled The Kibbutz.
Maxwell Sheffield's extremely wealthy, but eccentric grandmother Eloise was visiting to determine if Maxwell was still a worthy heir. Max had been trying to hide Fran from her, afraid that she would embarrass him or unwittingly insult Eloise—which could lead to being cut out of the old lady's will. Meanwhile, Fran learned that her ex-fiancé Danny died suddenly and unexpectantly. The shock of her mortality and current situation leads to an emotional showdown with Maxwell.
At the funeral, Fran met Harvey, a gay man whose lover's family refused to acknowledge his relationship after his lover died. The similarities to Fran's situation with Mr. Sheffield got her to thinking. As much as she was hesitant to involve Sylvia in her relationship with her boss, Fran went to her mother for advice.
Mother and daughter were sitting in the Fine's modest kitchen, snacking on a crumb cake. "Ma, the point is if something happened to Mr. Sheffield I could have the same problem."
Sylvia nodded her head in agreement. Even though she was terrified of Fran leaving the Sheffield household, she couldn't stand to see her so distressed. Her heart sank as Fran said, "I don't think I can take this much longer." She hugged her mother goodbye and walked dejectedly from the apartment and caught the bus back to Manhattan—and the Sheffield mansion.
On the bus she had time to really mull things over. She took a deep breath and exhaled as a newfound resolve swept over her. She was now more angry than depressed. The bus let her off a block from the mansion. Fran marched into Mr. Sheffield's office. "We have to talk Mister," she demanded with a fire in her eyes that unsettled Max to his core, even though he had not idea why.
"Surely you mean 'may we' and 'sir'," Max said with much more conviction than he actually felt. He had never seen the look of almost rage in her brown eyes. Truth be told, he had been feeling that a showdown between the two of them might be coming soon. It had been three months since that fateful Paris flight when he told her he loved her because they thought their plane was going to crash. He took it back as soon as they were safely at his front door.
"Oh, so you're already pretending that there's nothing between us? You told me that you loved me. Well I want a man that will shout it from the rooftops!" she exclaimed throwing her arms up in disgust.
"I told you that I loved you," he said softly through clenched teeth. "But then I took it back!" he yelled.
"You shouted the wrong part," she said haughtily. She defiantly thrust her chin out and angrily put her hands on her hips.
"Oh, I wish I had never said 'I love you' in the first place!" Max groaned sitting down. He ran his hands through his hair and looked dejectedly down at his desk. How can that one moment of weakness on that plane from Paris have caused me so much grief? He thought regretfully. He didn't look at her so didn't notice the color had left her face.
Fran felt as though she were kicked in the stomach at that statement. A wave of nausea threatened to overtake her so took a deep breath, walked quietly out the office door and made a decision. So, he really doesn't love me. She fought back tears and swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. "From now on, things are going to be different around here," She whispered to herself as she climbed the stairs to her room. She lay on her bed and caught her breath. He's never going to hurt me again. She had a newfound resolve. He doesn't love me-he certainly couldn't have made it any clearer.
Fran woke up the next morning and dressed. She was determined not to waste anymore of her life on a man who didn't love her. She took a deep breath and pushed open the dining room door.
"Good morning, everyone," Fran said cheerily as she walked into the dining room.
The family and Niles looked up and greeted her. They had no idea of the life-changing scene that transpired yesterday in Max's office. Max, on the other hand had a sick feeling in his stomach. He was just starting to realize the enormity of what he said. That was why he couldn't sleep- his last words to her yesterday weighed heavily on him.
There's something not right here. Max thought. She's just not quite herself. There's something about her eyes when she looks at me, something is missing. No, you're just imagining things; he decided and put it out of his mind. Maxwell Sheffield was never one to over analyze his feelings.
Of course, he was right. That something missing was the spark of love that was always there when she looked at him. He didn't know it yet, but he had finally held her at arms-length once too often.
Fran attended to her duties and escorted the kids to the door, waving goodbye as they went off to school. But, unlike every other morning she doesn't go back into the dining room to kibitz with Max. She informed him that she would be going out for the day and be back before the kids got home.
For the first time, Max had a very real fear that he may have really gone too far. He decided they would have to have a long talk soon, but wasn't really worried. He had plenty of time. After all, where was she going? This was her home now. With that reassuring thought, Max went back to his office and went to work, thoughts of Miss Fine now at the back of his mind.
In the following week Fran did all she could to avoid Mr. Sheffield. In fact, she hadn't been alone with him since the scene in his office. His grandmother had gone back to England and he had more time on his hands. He was starting to notice that something was missing in his life...but what? He was so out of touch with himself that he didn't realize that Miss Fine hadn't jumped on his desk in one of her short skirts, or even been in his office for days.
I wonder what she's doing. Well, I'll think about it later, I have to get this bloody work pigeon-holed thoughts of Miss Fine and went back to his work.
Fran was lounging on the couch watching 'Oprah' when the doorbell rang.
"I'll get it!" Fran yelled as she jumped off the couch. She trotted over to the door and opened it. She let out a gasp and her heart skipped a beat when she saw who was standing there.
"HELLO, DARLING!" Nigel cried lifting her up and twirling her around the living room. "I've missed you! You look absolutely beautiful!"
Fran was so surprised that she almost cried with joy at the sight of him. For the first time in a week, she was genuinely happy. "Oh, Nigel!" she hugged him gratefully. "You don't know how glad I am to see you!"
Nigel was thrilled and a little stunned at her reaction. He didn't know what to expect on this surprise visit. He really was disappointed that she didn't meet him at the ship and sail to London to get married two months earlier. He couldn't get her out of his mind—which surprised him, since he usually had no trouble going from one lady to another. Nigel suddenly decided to pop in unannounced since he had business in New York. He grabbed the first Concorde out of London spontaneously. After replaying his last visit in his mind over and over, he had figured out that she loved his brother, but knowing Max as he did, his brother was probably was too afraid of his feelings to ever love her back. Perhaps she would give him another chance.
"So, luv...are you free for this evening? I feel like dancing at that retro 70's disco club we went to last time!" He was as irrepressible as ever dancing around her with a twinkle in his green eyes. Mr. Sheffield's eyes, Fran thought fleetingly. No stop thinking about him, after all, Nigel is Mr. Sheffield too.
Fran chuckled at his antics. It was the first time she'd laughed in days. Fran did have feelings for Nigel, and was actually going to run off with him. But, she realized over the last two months that even if she had gotten on that ship, she would have backed out. She had loved Maxwell Sheffield with all her heart and even though she was fond of his brother, she knew she could never go through with it.
Well, now she had another chance. With Maxwell out of her heart...his choice, not hers, she could really give his brother an honest shot. Fate sent him to me; I'm not going to blow it this time. She thought and was surprised that she was really pleased that he is here now. Maybe he's just what I need to get Maxwell Sheffield out of my heart.
"Oh, Nigel...that sounds wonderful! It's just exactly what I need! I have so much to tell you." She stopped as Max and Niles entered the living room.
"Nigel! This is a pleasant surprise!" Max said shaking his hand. "You are staying here with us, this time, I insist. We have plenty of room. How long will you be in New York?"
"I don't know yet, bro." He looked at Fran. "But, yes, I think I would rather stay here this time. Thanks Max."
"Nigel, I'm afraid I must work this evening, again! I feel horrible about that since I neglected you so the last time you were here. But, I'll be free tomorrow night. Perhaps Miss Fine could show you a good time this..."
"Don't worry about it, Max. Fran and I have already decided to go dancing tonight." Nigel looked affectionately at Fran. She returned his gaze, and crinkled her nose at him playfully.
"Oh, good," Max said this time rubbing his hands together a little uneasily. Even he noticed the look between them this time. Could they be attracted to each other? No, don't be an idiot. The poor little thing is in love with you. He completely dismissed the thought. "Niles would you please prepare the guest room for my brother?"
Niles stared at him. How can he be so bloody stupid? A blind man could see that Nigel and Fran were attracted to each other. He's just throwing them into each other's arms. I am going to have to talk to Miss Fine. Something has happened between her and Mr. Sheffield. The last time Nigel was here she hid her affection for him, now she didn't seem to care who knew it. Niles grabbed Nigel's bags and starting up the stairs, throwing Max a look of disgust.
Fran laid back and relaxed in the Jacuzzi. It must be fate that sent Nigel here. It's a sign that it is he and not Maxwell Sheffield who I should be with. The timing is just is more than chance. I've been mourning Mr. Sheffield for a week, suddenly I feel alive again. Nigel always has that effect on me. She remembered how down she was just before his last visit. They had so much fun; he had single-handedly cured her of her depression—better than Zoloft! So, when he had asked her to marry him, it seemed like a pretty good idea.
She lie back in the tub; let the soothing bubbles work their magic and her body totally relaxed. She hadn't realized how tense she had been the last week. He can make me happy. I think it would not be difficult to fall in love with Nigel. A feeling of incredible peace enveloped her. She was just beginning to realize that she just might have a future as a Sheffield after all.
Max and Nigel were having a cocktail in the living room. Their mouths dropped open in unison as Fran descended the staircase. She wore the lowest cut emerald green dress. The skirt was heart-stoppingly short and cut extremely low, leaving very little to the imagination. "Hello, everyone! I'm ready Nigel...how do I look?" she said innocently unaware that her appearance was having a drastic effect on them.
Her dress reflected in Nigel's eyes too makes them appear even more vividly green. "Oh, luv! You absolutely take my breath away!" Nigel cried running over to her. He took her in his arms and held her close to him. Ditto, she thought, as she looked into his gorgeous eyes.
Max's mouth fell even wider at Nigel's actions. Niles had just entered the room with fresh drinks. When he saw Max's reaction to Miss Fine in Nigel's arms, he was relieved by Max's expression that he seemed to finally get it. Maybe this will finally get him off his tuchus.
Nigel released her and they walked toward Max and Niles. "Miss Fine, you look ravishing." He was suddenly quite worried about just how ravishing she looks...to Nigel. "Um...is that what you're wearing tonight?" Max asks nervously.
"Yea, why...you don't like it?" She says looking down at her dress.
"Well it's rather cold...it is November, after all. "You idiot. You sound like a bloody moron. Do shut up!
"Oh, don't worry, Mr. Sheffield! I have a coat!" She held up the tiny piece of fabric that would serve to cover only her shoulders. Nigel took her coat and helped her on with it. He kissed her neck as he opened the front door.
"Don't wait up!" He gave Max and Niles a wink as they head out the door. Max just stood there with his drink melting in his hand. He was frozen to the spot, not believing what he had just witnessed.
"Well, I hope you're satisfied," Niles said dryly. "You know your brother. I don't think Miss Fine stands a chance tonight." Max shot him a look of anger mixed with desperation. He downed the rest of his drink in one gulp and sat heavily down on the couch.
Niles had witnessed Nigel's reaction when he first saw Fran in that short dress. He knew Nigel and from the look on his face, he was terrified that Max's brother had every intention of making Fran his next conquest. Niles thoughts turned to his boss. Is he bloody insane letting Nigel of all people take Miss Fine out? Niles shook his head and went to the kitchen leaving Max slumped on the couch.
Fran and Nigel were enjoying a quiet dinner at the Plaza. Nigel was having a hard time concentrating on the delicious dinner. He couldn't believe how captivated he was with her. She's just unlike any other woman I've ever known! She can make me laugh...I've never felt like this. I really think I truly love her!
"Nigel, I am sorry about what happened last time you were here," Fran began.
"Oh, that's alright darling...I figured out that you were really in love with Max. Anyone could have seen that."
"Nigel, just so you know..." she confessed. "I did go to meet you at the pier. I was late and got there just in time to see you sailing away."
Nigel's eyes shot wide open and his heart started beating faster. He smiled and took her hand. "Oh, Fran...are you serious? Why didn't you call me? I would have flown back here to get you!" He was thrilled and stunned at her confession.
"Because you were right. I was desperately in love with your brother. I realized how unfair it would be to you. Last week I learned once and for all that he doesn't return my love. You see, when we were flying back from visiting you in Paris we experienced some awful turbulence. Mr. Sheffield thought that the plane was going to crash. He hugged me and told me he loved me. When we got home safely, he took it back," she said, tearing up a little at the memory.
Niles hugged her sympathetically. That bloody fool! He thought shaking his head. Typical Max-afraid of his own shadow where relationships were concerned. Nigel was completely opposite of his brother where the fair sex was involved. He was completely comfortable with women and always pleased them. Even after the inevitable break-up; they always remained friends. His charm was legendary.
"I thought he just needed more time...that he really did love me. Well, last week I found out how wrong I was. He told me he wished he'd never said it at all! That's when I realized what a fool I've been these last few months! It's been very difficult this past week, but I think I'm gradually getting over him. I'm so glad you're here!" She spontaneously hugs him.
"Not as glad as I am, luv. Come on let's go dancing! You deserve a little fun! Let me prove that all Sheffield's aren't as dumb as my brother!" he said casually placing a hundred dollar bill on the table for the bill and gratuity. He led her out of the restaurant into the crisp New York evening.
The disco was rocking and Fran was having a great time. In fact, the last time she had this much fun was two months ago in this very room...with Nigel. This thought didn't escape her. They were dancing to I Will Survive. "Nigel, for some reason it just feels so right dancing to this song with you." Fran murmured, looking up at him. Fran was surprised that she is suddenly experiencing tender feelings towards Nigel. She had been deprived of love and affection from a man for so long now, that the attention Max's brother was showering on her was almost overwhelming her. She was having a marvelous time.
Nigel and Fran have danced every dance at The 70's Club, a popular retro disco in midtown Manhattan that Nigel frequented whenever he visited New York. The club had been designed to duplicate the famous 'Studio 54.'The signature disco of the late 1970's. In fact the new owners wanted to name it after the famous club, but couldn't because the original owners had copyrighted the name. Studio 54 catered to the beautiful people and the rich and famous. Hopeful patrons used to stand in line for hours on the slim chance that they would be plucked out of line by a bouncer that caught their eye.
Fran couldn't believe what a wonderful time she was having. She hadn't missed Mr. Sheffield at all. "Fran I hope you're not getting bored with me telling you how incredibly smashing you look this evening," Nigel said looking deeply into her eyes. He took her hand and kissed it. He had been harboring and hiding an instant arousal most of the evening—dancing with her had been shear torture, of the most pleasurable kind.
"Nope, I'm still digging it," she said happily. She took a sip of her vodka tonic. I can't believe how different you are from your brother. You two are exact opposites." Fran shook her head in wonderment. She studies Nigel closely for the first time, analyzing the two brother's immense differences. He's charming, funny and damn handsome...not to mention rich. Why can't I be in love with him instead of his stuff shirt brother? She thought ruefully. Fran remembered how she had been a little attracted to Nigel when they first met in Paris. They had even flirted briefly. Of course with Maxwell in the picture, nothing came of it.
Nigel was quite pleased with himself. He knew he would be able to get her out of her depression. He had a natural way with the ladies. Nigel as a young man was a bit of a rakish rogue. Actually he still was, given the opportunity. He never had trouble getting women into his bed. Nigel absolutely loved women. He had always tried to be up front with his conquests and even after the relationship ended, he had stayed friends with the ladies he had bedded. His incorrigible charm and manner captivated the women he seduced. Most had realized up front that he was a man who would never be tamed or settle down. He had always showed them such a good time that they were hesitant to let him out of their lives permanently after the short relationship ended.
Nigel, Maxwell and their sister Jocelyn grew up in a home with very little outward love and affection displayed by their cold parents towards them. Actually, if it hadn't been for their butler, Niles Sr., they wouldn't know what real love was. The Sheffield children were practically raised by him while their selfish parents globe-trotted the world.
Niles Sr. was a good and honorable man and he handed these fine traits down to his three young charges. Because of him, Maxwell and Nigel absorbed none of the traits of their self-centered parents. Their sister Jocelyn was the most self-absorbed of the three, but even she wasn't nearly as bad as their parents.
Fran looked around the disco, which was an exact duplicate of the famous Studio 54, arguably the most famous nightclub of all time. The infamous Studio 54 was the club of choice for most the 'beautiful people' in the late 1970's disco era. The famous, and infamous, waited in line for hours to get in.
Fran gazed up at the mirrored disco ball that was spinning overhead. Almost hypnotically, she suddenly shuddered as a wave of déjà vu swept over her. For the life of her, she couldn't figure out why she had chills. She decided to concentrate on her gorgeous date.
Fran was surprised that she is suddenly experiencing tender feelings towards Nigel. She had been deprived of love and affection from a man for so long now, that the attention Max's brother was showering on her was almost overwhelming her. She was having a marvelous time.
Nigel took her hand and led her back to the dance floor. The arousal that had plagued him most of the evening had thankfully disappeared. He finally felt comfortable drawing Fran closer to him. After a few more dances, Nigel knew he had to take Fran home. He was afraid of his sudden realization. His strong feelings towards her have confused and, truth be told, scared him to death. He needed time alone to think. He was grateful that he hadn't stayed in his brother's home and had his own suite at the Waldorf-Astoria.
"Fran darling, I'm afraid that I'm suffering from jet lag. Would you mind if I escorted you home? I am just dead on my feet," he lied. He could have danced with her in his arms all night.
"Of course not Nigel. I'm a little tired too." She was surprised that he wanted to end the evening so abruptly, but pleased to be able to get to her bed and sort through her suddenly tender feelings towards him.
Nigel walked her to the Sheffield front door and gallantly kissed her hand goodnight. She watched his limo drive until it was out of sight. She walked quietly up the stairs to her bedroom, quickly changed into her pajamas and climbed into bed. She fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow—vodka tonics always made her sleepy.
"Oh my god!" Fran Fine sat straight up in bed. She was in Maxwell Sheffield's mansion. Something had crept into her subconscious-just out of reach while she was dreaming. That 'something' was aroused by this evening. It had been six months since Fran and Max had returned from Paris and that fateful flight when he told her he loved her but took it back the next day after the plane had landed safely.
She was trembling and holding the covers close to her. "It can't be, can it?" She whispered grasping a big fist full of her hair. Her heart was pounding madly. The incomprehensible dream that had just awakened her this morning had triggered something in Fran's mind. A long forgotten memory was slowly making its way back into her consciousness.
1978
"Oh, Val! I'm so excited! Graduating from Beauty College is so great! Now I can get a cool job and have my own money!" Fran and Val are standing outside Studio 54, the hottest disco in New York City. They are clutching their fake ID's and praying that this time they get chosen from the line outside the very exclusive club. It was rare a regular person could even get in. The club catered to the Beautiful People, as the media of the day referred to the rich and famous who frequented the decadent discos of the late 1970's in New York.
"I'm glad the line isn't long tonight! Probably 'cause it's so cold," Val says shivering a little.
"I guess all the beautiful people are already inside. I'm freezing!" Fran was wishing she hadn't worn her shortest danskin disco dress. Her clogs didn't do much to keep her feet warm either. Fortunately for her, she did wear the dress. The Studio 54 line manager/bouncer spots her in that short dress and opens the stanchion motioning them in. He has instructions to let attractive people into the club even if they weren't part of the rich and famous.
Fran and Val are overjoyed and giggling as they flash their phony ID's at the doorman. At nineteen they are a couple years too young to legally drink in New York.
"I can't believe it Val! We finally made it in! Wow! It's amazing!" Fran cries looking around the huge room. The mirrored ball overhead is spinning and reflecting bright, colorful lights around the dance floor. The new hit record I Will Survive is blaring from the speakers and the dance floor is full of brightly colored, polyester clad patrons.
"Val take a picture with the mirrored disco ball over me!" Fran gushes handing her the camera. "Oh god, Val!" she points at the bar. "It's Danny Terrio from Dance Fever! Wow, I told you we'd see celebrities! He's so cool! I almost got on his show once." she confides. "I just missed the cut. Let's dance!" she excitedly grabs Val's hand and leads her to the crowded dance floor.
After several dances, they decide to get a drink at the bar. As they are figuring out what to get, a young man approaches them from behind. "May I buy you lovely ladies a cocktail?"
Fran turns around. At the sight of the handsome Brit, her mouth drops open and her eyes go wide. "Oh god! You're that guy! Val, it's that guy we saw on The Virginia Graham Show yesterday!" she cries. "You know, the babe!" She whispers. "Take our picture!" She gives Val the camera again, puts her arm around him and her face close to his. They smile as Val takes the photo.
"So, you saw me on television yesterday." He is flattered that she would remember him. "My name is Max." He extends his hand.
"I'm Fran and this is Val," she gives him her most beautiful smile and is surprised to feel her heart fluttering.
Their eyes lock and both of their hearts skip a beat. I've never met anyone like her. Max thinks very confused by the surge that is rushing through his body. I've never been so inexplicably attracted to anyone I've just met in my life. He thinks incredulously. Stop it, old boy. You'll come on too strong and scare her away. "So, ladies...how about that drink?" Max says finally letting go of Fran's hand. Before the three of them could sit, Val is asked to dance by a man she has been smiling at across the bar. She happily accepts.
Fran and Max are secretly thrilled to be alone. Fran's heart is doing flip-flops. What's wrong with you? She thinks very confused. It's like you've never sat with a handsome man before. Fran has always adored Cary Grant and she absolutely loves Max's British accent. She is also admiring his green eyes and black mustache. But it is his thick head of hair that really blows her away.
Meanwhile, Max can't take his gaze away from her beautiful brown eyes. He adores the way the tilt up slightly. It gives her an air of mystery. She looks so adorable with that Farah Fawcett hairdo. And what a figure! I don't think I've ever seen a tinier waistline! Easy boy. He admonishes himself.
"So, Fran, you don't look old enough to have gotten in here," he takes a sip his scotch. His smile makes her heart race.
"Well, actually I'm nineteen, but I used my sister's ID," she confides leaning into him.
Max grins at her naughtiness. "Don't worry, I'll never tell," he whispers conspiratorially leaning closer to her. Suddenly he gets up and takes her hand. "Come with me." He leads her over to his VIP table.
"Wow! You have your own table?" Fran says very impressed and more than a little intimidated. "Um, what is it you do again? Something with plays, right?" She is trying to remember why he was being interviewed yesterday on that daytime talk television show. She hadn't really been listening. She had just known that she thought he was a babe.
"Yes, I'm in New York trying to produce a play here for the first time. I've been pretty successful in London, but I'm thinking of moving here permanently. The real money and prestige is here on Broadway," he says not taking his eyes off her even for a second. What is wrong with you? It's not like beautiful women don't surround you every day at the theatre! Why is this young lady absolutely taking your breath away? Max's heart is racing. He is just incredibly drawn to her. He desperately wants to take her hand, and more. He looks at her and says. "Unfortunately, I have to return to London in two days. But I hope to return permanently sooner rather than later," he says quickly noticing her slightly disappointed expression. At least he fervently hopes that she was disappointed.
Max smiles at her. Fran could see very tiny lines just starting to form around his eyes when he did. This causes her heart to pound a little harder. I've never felt this way before! Especially with someone I've just met. She is now very confused by her strong feelings. I can't believe how attracted I am to him. "Max, your career sounds so exciting! But how does a young man just getting started in New York rate a table like this at Studio 54? I thought only the very rich and/or famous got them." She looks around at the other VIP's and starts to feel a little out of her element. Oh my, I think that's John Travolta at the bar! Yikes!
Max blushes slightly and clears his throat. He doesn't really want to tell her how wealthy he is. That would be so tacky. "Oh, I just got lucky," he quickly changes the subject. "So, Fran...nineteen, huh? Are you in college?" I bet she has to beat the boys off with a stick. God, I just want to take her in my arms! He thinks suddenly nonplussed that he is very aroused.
"As a matter of fact, I just graduated from a two-year college!" She declines to mention that it was a beauty college. By his uncomfortable expression earlier, she has deduced that he must be from a very wealthy family. He is so classy and cultured sounding that she is just a little embarrassed about her own background. I wonder what it would be like to kiss him. What's wrong with you? She thinks. I really think I have gone off the deep end!
The record changes to Don't Throw It All Away, which for some reason is Fran's favorite song. Max sees her expression. "Would you care to dance?" He offers her his arm and leads her to the dance floor where he immediately takes her in his arms. He can't resist pulling her in close to him. He is afraid she can feel his pounding heart. Oh my god does this feel good! She drives me bloody mad with desire.
Fran smiles up at him. "Max you are a marvelous dancer. It's so nice to be with a man who actually knows the moves!" She is thrilled to finally be in his arms. I can't believe how good this feels, he drives me crazy! She thinks resting his head on his shoulder and moving rhythmically with him. Suddenly, 1978's monster hit More Than a Woman starts playing. Max twirls her into his arms and holds her close. Fran is delighted that he is such a terrific dancer.
The song ends as 'Funky Town' begins. Max and Fran smile at each other, silently agreeing that it is a ridiculous song. Max leads her back to his table. Though he knows he shouldn't, he just can't help himself. He takes her hand and leans closer to her. "Fran, it's so blasted loud in here. I just would love to get to know you better. I have a beautiful suite at the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel," he says hesitantly. "I promise to be a perfect gentleman. I just want to talk and learn more about you." He looks hopefully into her eyes and smiles that incredible smile that almost stops her heart.
She is stunned as she hears herself agree to go. Max can't believe it either. His heart soars. He jumps up and offers her his arm again. He is afraid that she'll change her mind. Fran is astonished that she is having absolutely no second thoughts about her impulsive decision. She's only known this man for an hour and she's going to his hotel room? Ma would have a heart attack if she ever found out! Which reminds her. "Excuse me, Max." She walks away from him.
He looks worried that she might have changed her mind. He sees her walking over to her girlfriend and is relieved that she just has to go tell her friend she was leaving.
"Val! You are not going to believe this!" Fran excitedly drags Val away from her dance partner. The same guy Val had hooked up with an hour ago. "Max has asked me to go to his hotel room!"
Val's mouth drops open. "Fran! You can't do that! You don't even know him!" Val is shocked. She looks over at Max and is suddenly a little jealous of her friend. She definitely can't blame Fran for wanting to go to his room. "Are you going to sleep with him? Tell me everything!" Val cries, suddenly very excited.
"Oh, Val! You know I can't do that. But, god! I'm so drawn to him! I can't explain it," Fran says shaking her head a little. "Val, ma thinks I'm sleeping over your house. When you get home, take the phone off the hook so if she calls, she'll get a busy signal."
"Sure, Fran. Have fun!" Val says going back to her dance partner. I hope she knows what she's doing.
Max opens the huge double door to the fabulous Waldorf-Astoria penthouse suite. Fran gasps as they enter. She has never seen a more beautiful room. The living room is huge with a large crackling fire in the fireplace. The bedroom was just off the dining room. The view of the Manhattan skyline was breathtaking. The sight of the fairly newly built WORLD TRADE CENTER Twin Towers that light up the night is astounding.
"Oh, Max! I figured earlier that you must be wealthy, but this!" Fran exclaims a little self-consciously. "I come from Queens. I don't think I belong here," she says shyly looking down. She is rooted in the doorway.
"Nonsense!" he says nonchalantly leading her in. He is touched by her trepidation. "You deserve a palace!" He takes her hand and leads her to the large sofa in front of the fireplace. Max slips a Moody Blues eight track tape into the tape player. 'The Moody Blues' are my favorite group," he says as the haunting melody 'I Know You're Out There Somewhere' plays. He turns the volume down low. "They are from the same part of England as I." He walks over to the bar and pours them both a glass of white wine. "I shouldn't really be contributing to your wickedness," he jokes as he hands her the wine. "Perhaps you better show me that ID again." His eyes twinkle. In this light she looks like an angel. He thinks happily.
Fran gives him a beautiful smile as she takes the glass of wine. "Max, I have to tell you. I can't believe I came to your room. I've never done anything like this in my life. But, there's something about you. I feel like I've known you all my life. It's so confusing," she admits to him.
He is delighted with her confession. "Fran you won't believe it, but I feel exactly the same way. From the moment I saw you I knew I had to be with you. I feel like we've met before. Have you ever been to England?" he says, knowing that they have never met. He couldn't possibly have forgotten her.
Fran laughs. "I've only been to New Jersey and Miami Beach. I would love to visit London someday. It seems like such a romantic city," she says wistfully.
Max moves closer to her. He dares to take her hand in his. "Then you will. I am sure of it," he whispers. His heart is starting to pound harder at being this close to her and touching her. He remembers his promise to be a perfect gentleman. How can I control myself? Look at her. She's so lovely! I just want to take her in my arms. Suddenly, without thinking that's exactly what he does. "Oh excuse me, Fran. I shouldn't have done that," he says quickly releasing his embrace. He looks sheepishly at her. Max is appalled with himself for his sudden familiarity towards this beautiful stranger. I hope she's not angry.
Fran smiles at him. "I didn't mind," she says a little shyly. She moves closer to him and he gratefully puts his arm around her. They sit for hours talking about their lives. He was fascinated by her stories from Queens and her crazy relatives. He was surprised that she makes him laugh out loud numerous times. He has never been with a woman like this. Max regales Fran with stories of England and his days at the prestigious school Eaton. The famous actor Jeremy Irons had actually been his classmate. His theatre background impresses her. He had started as a 'dresser' for the famous British actors and moved quickly up to producer.
Max can finally stand it no longer. "Fran, may I kiss you. I know I promised to be a gentleman, but I've wanted to kiss you all evening," he says a little nervously looking imploringly into her eyes.
It's about time. She thinks happily. I thought he'd never get around to it. It's practically all I've thought about since I met him! She looks softly in his eyes and tilts her lips up to him.
"Oh, Fran," Max whispers. He takes her in his arms and kisses her softly. He leans her back on the couch applying soft kisses to her lips. He is happy for this innocent intimacy. When she instinctively slides her tongue in his mouth he lets out an involuntary groan. "Fran, Fran," he whispers. "This feels so good." He nuzzles her ears and kisses down her throat slowly. His hands tenderly caress her. He is careful not to become too intimate. He had promised her, after all.
His actions are driving Fran into a slight frenzy. Her body is tingling. She can't resist pulling his body into hers. The feeling of his arousal against her thin dress is having a drastic effect on her. He longs to press his erection into the cleft of her legs, but curbs the impulse. With an eagerness that was instinctive, Fran arches her body into it, in effect accomplishing what he wouldn't do for himself. Her groin is throbbing and she presses herself more fiercely into him. "Oh, Max!" she murmurs. Oh my god! This feels so good! I can't believe I'm doing this! She thinks happily.
"Fran. If you continue with that, I'm not going to be able to keep my promise," Max moans desperately. His breathing is becoming very heavy. His hand tentatively finds her breast. When she doesn't push him away, he becomes bolder. He caresses it. Her low cut dress slides easily aside and he lowers his head to her other breast and gently nips it with his tongue. He is delighted as he feels it harden at his touch.
She slows down and looks tenderly up at him. "Whatever you want Fran," he whispers looking up at her, his eyes at half-mast. "We can continue this on the bed where it will be so much more comfortable." Max is thrilled as she nods trustingly at him. They stand up and he leads her to his bed. Before they get in he kisses her. Max lets his hand find the zipper of her dress. He unzips it as she lifts the thin straps off her shoulders. The dress falls in a puddle around her ankles.
Max gasps as she is standing before him in just her pink lace panties. "Oh, Fran. You are beautiful," he whispers taking in her perfect body. He rips his shirt off quickly and unbuckles and unzips his trousers. They fall in a heap next to her dress. Max steps out of them and lifts her up. He takes her into his arms and sets her on the bed, getting in quickly. He applies soft kisses to her lips, neck, breasts and stomach.
"Fran, you're so soft," he murmurs. "I want you so badly." He looks hopefully in her eyes.
"Max, I feel the same. I've never felt like this before." She looks tenderly up at him.
"Let me please you, darling," he pleads rubbing his cheek softly to hers. I've never wanted to please a woman so desperately. He thinks, astounded at his true feelings.
"Yes," she sighs kissing him softly. Fran is nervous, but so excited that she can't say no.
He kisses her a little more passionately. His heart is starting to pound and he is getting more than a little excited. Max slowly lets his hand slide down her body to her panties. He lets his hand cup between her legs causing her to cry out softly. Emboldened by her reaction Max gently reaches into them. Fran lets out an involuntary moan as his fingers find her heat. He softly slides her apart to find the spot he must attend. He has to make her very ready for him. He slowly slides his finger back and forth very lightly. "Oh, god, you're wet," he moans. He's overjoyed that his is obviously pleasing her so much. He lets his finger enter her and is slightly surprised at how tight she is. He is overjoyed that her muscles grip him tightly.
"Oh, Max!" Fran cries as she feels him deliciously inside of her. "Please make love to me. I need you now." She looks desperately into his eyes.
"Fran." His heart is pounding through his chest and is very grateful that she wants him so badly. He couldn't stand it if he couldn't be in her soon. He positions himself over her to finally enter. As Max tries to go into her he is having trouble.
"Relax darling," he murmurs. "I won't hurt you." She's so tense and tight. He thinks. A girl like this shouldn't be so nervous. It's almost like she's... Suddenly it comes to him. Oh, NO! He looks down at her. "Oh, Fran!" he croaks. His heart is pounding even more madly.
Oh, no! He knows! I have to do something before he backs out! Seeing the panicked look on his face she quickly grabs his bottom thrusts him into her. "OH!" she cries out in pain and ecstasy.
"NO!" Max cries out in surprise. "Oh, NO! Oh, Fran!" he cries guiltily. Oh, god! Why did she do that? He lays still for a second in shock. His forehead is resting on her shoulder. Fran is holding him very tightly. Now that it was too late to stop, Max couldn't resist her. He gently slides himself in deeper. He doesn't want to cause her anymore pain. He softly, rhythmically presses himself in. Hearing the little noises of pleasure she was making, makes him start to feel better. He knows his is pleasing her. She is so tight! This is unbelievable. I don't know how long I can hold out!
Wow! Fran thinks. That kind of hurt, but this feels so good at the same time. The feeling of him inside her is causing her heart to pound. She is breathing very hard. She is starting to feel unfamiliar waves of pleasure taking over her thoughts and grinds herself up into Max urgently. She suddenly grips him tightly. He can feel the inner walls of her massaging him like a fist. The feeling is making it very hard to control himself. "OH, Max, Max!" she cries writhing into him one last time. She melts into the sheets as the last waves of ecstasy envelope her.
A grateful Max witnesses her obvious orgasm. He can hold out no longer and explodes into her. "Fran!" he cries out. "Oh, god...Fran!" He collapses on top of her. He is trying to catch his breath. His chest is heaving. "My god, that was absolutely incredible!" All of a sudden he remembers. Oh my god! She is...was a virgin! What have I done? He thinks starting to feel very guilty again. Did I hurt her? Well, of course you did. But, she doesn't seem to be in pain. Max slowly gets off of her and tenderly props himself over her. He looks lovingly down at her.
Fran opens her eyes for the first time since her climax. She sees him smiling down at her. She smiles shyly back. "Max." Was all she could say looking up lovingly into his adoring eyes.
His heart races at her sweet expression, and at the realization of what he has done to her. He gathers her in his arms. "Fran, why didn't you tell me you were a virgin?" he whispers holding her protectively to him. He is trembling slightly at the thought that he is her first. Oh, I'm not the right man for a virgin! Max knows from experience that he is much too well endowed for a woman's first time. He also knows that he must have caused her much discomfort. He is slightly horrified that he may have really hurt her.
"I was afraid that if I did, that you wouldn't make love to me," she says a little bashfully.
"You would have been right." He looks tenderly down at her. Suddenly he feels very proud that she wanted him to be her first. "Did I hurt you badly?" he asks sympathetically. He knows that she must be in some pain, and hugs her tightly.
"No."
He looks at her skeptically.
"Well...it kind of hurt good." Her cheeks turn crimson as she hides her face under the sheet.
Max smiles at that. He was charmed at her innocence. "It will get better, trust me. Next time it won't hurt." He kisses her softly.
"Next time?" She looks at him quizzically from under the sheet, her eyes blinking rapidly.
"Of course. What kind of a man do you think I am? I took your virginity; do you think I take that lightly?" He rubs his cheek gently to hers and tightens his grip. Suddenly he realizes the truth. "Fran, you're not going to believe this, but I think I'm falling in love with you," he whispers, his body starting to tremble again as he realizes that it is true.
Fran looks at him in shock. It's exactly what she had just been thinking. "Max, you won't believe it, but I think I'm feeling the same," she says looking at him wide-eyed. This is not happening. A handsome millionaire and me! It's just unbelievable. She is awestruck.
He smiles and kisses her. He is relieved by her confession "I would love to make love to you again tonight." Seeing the apprehensive look she gives him, he quickly whispers. "I know we can't. Trust me; it won't hurt again after tonight." He says again. He is charmed by her innocence. Max no longer feels guilty. He knows he wants to be with her.
She kisses him. "I have to be going, Max. Val can't cover for me forever," she says, not wanting to leave.
Max is disappointed. "I wish you could stay all night! Tomorrow is my last night in New York. Please let me take you out. Anywhere you want!" He says hugging her again.
"Can we go back to Studio 54?"she says excitedly.
"Of course! Meet me here at eight o'clock! I'll take you there." They get dressed and he escorts her downstairs. She gets into a taxi. "How much to Flushing?" He asks the driver. Max pays him. He kisses Fran goodbye. "I can't wait for tomorrow night," he says smiling. She waves as the cab drives out of sight.
Maxwell walks to the elevator. When he gets to his bed, he falls into the most peaceful sleep of his life.
"Oh Fran! You didn't!" They are in Val's bedroom, where a few minutes ago Fran had crawled in through the window. "Tell me everything! Did it hurt? How did it feel?" Val is still a virgin also, and is a little jealous of Fran.
"Oh Val! It did hurt at first, but the feeling I got later made it well worth it! Val, he told me that he thinks he's in love with me. I think I feel the same way! Isn't that crazy? I mean I've only know him six hours!" she says shaking her head. She suddenly remembers her orgasm and shudders with pleasure.
"Val, it was so wonderful…I highly recommend it."
"When are you going to see him again?".
"Tonight! We're going back to Studio 54! I can't wait! I'd better get some sleep," she says lying down next to Val.
The ringing telephone awakens Max. "Niles! What's the matter?" he says looking at his watch rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He's slept nine hours.
"It's your brother, sir. He's been in an accident." His butler Niles informs him.
"Nigel? OH, God!" Max cries. He runs his hand through his hair and jumps out of bed.
"Don't worry, sir. He's going to be fine. He was calling for you though. Your parents are out of the country, and he doesn't want to see them anyway."
Nigel is fifteen-ten years younger than Maxwell. Their parents are pretty horrible people and Max had taken Nigel under his wing years ago.
"I've booked you on the next flight to London on British Airways. It leaves in an hour."
Max rushes to dress and pack. He gets to the airport just in time. He settles into his first class seat. Only after the plane takes off and his mind has relaxed does he remember. He sits straight up in his seat. Oh god! Fran! Suddenly he realizes that he doesn't even know her last name. Why didn't I get her bloody phone number? Oh god, she's going to think I ran out on her! He thinks really starting to panic. I have no idea how to find her! "What do I do now?" he whispers sadly falling back in his seat.
"Hello, young man," Max says looking affectionately at Nigel. They are in the palatial Sheffield Mansion in London. "How are you feeling?"
"Max." You came!" Nigel says happily. "I feel much better. The doctor said my leg is broken, but it's a clean break. I'll be good as new soon. It was a pretty wild football game. I ran into the goalie and got caught in the net. A freak accident," Nigel says sheepishly.
Max smiles down at him. He is thrilled that his brother won't suffer any permanent damage. He feels responsible for Nigel and is glad that he can be here for him. Now that he doesn't have to worry about Nigel, his thoughts go back to Fran. The entire trip from New York he had tried to figure out a way to find Fran. He knew that he would have to hire a private investigator. Of course, with no last name how the bloody hell could she be found? He is very worried that he will never see her again.
Fran walks through the doors of the fabulous Waldorf-Astoria Hotel. The doorman gives her an appreciative look. She takes the elevator to the penthouse. She rings the doorbell and waits.
"May I help you?" The elegant lady asks smiling at Fran.
"Um, is Max here?" she asks starting to get a little apprehensive, peeking around the lady to get a glimpse into the suite.
"Max? I'm sorry young lady. You must have the wrong room," she says kindly as she closes the door.
Fran's blood turns to ice. She's slowly realizing the horrifying truth. "Oh, god! He wouldn't have...would he?" she whispers. She thinks back to last night. He had seemed so honorable. He just wasn't the type to run out on a woman. He didn't even want to go all the way when he figured out I was a virgin!
Fran walks slowly out of the hotel. Maybe he said to meet him at Studio 54. She brightens a little at the thought. Fran rushes to the disco. She gets in line and gives the line manager her most dazzling smile. He remembers her from last night and motions her in. Fran looks desperately around the club. Max's VIP table is empty. He is nowhere to be seen. Defeated, she walks sadly outside. Tears are forming in her eyes. I never would have believed it of him. How could my instincts have been so wrong? Sadly she realizes how this has permanently scarred her. I'll never trust a man again. She sobs getting into her car and driving to Val's.
A week has passed since Max returned to England. He has finished his business in London and knows he has to get back to New York. He has to do everything in his power to try to find her. He books the same suite at the Waldorf-Astoria hoping against hope that she will try to find him. Max frequents Studio 54 every night and stays until closing for weeks. He periodically goes outside to check the line to see if she's there. The private investigator, of course, had come up empty handed. With no last name, the investigator had no chance to locate a nineteen-year old woman.
Max has no choice but to resume his life without Fran. He returns to London and is very successful. He meets a beautiful young American woman and decides to move to New York and tackle Broadway. As the weeks turn into months and the months turn into years he almost completely forgets about the beautiful woman he met at Studio 54. Falling in love with Sara had filled the horrible void that was in his heart for a year. He was happy with her and their new baby daughter.
He meets a very ambitious woman at a society party. She is a bored socialite and her passion is Broadway. Max impulsively hires her as his personal assistant. C.C. Babcock's drive and natural head for business progresses Sheffield Productions. Her chutzpa and aggressive manner compliments Max's creativeness and charm. In a short time, the two of them turn Broadway on its ear. They actually own it until a young Englishman breaks through with a hit Max had turned down...Cats. But even that little mistake didn't hinder their successful business.
Max and C.C. were quite successful in their own right. They produced the best revivals on Broadway. He honed his niche in the theatre community. Andrew Lloyd Webber was more original and creative, but Maxwell Sheffield, with the help of his talented assistant brought New York many plays that brought patrons back into the New York theatre fold.
Max's butler Niles at first was reviled by the snobbish C.C. He despised her haughty manner and her holier-than-thou attitude. But after years of secretly analyzing her, Niles realized that she is a scared puppy. Her imperious manner was her only defense. She was actually insecure and unhappy. This brought out Nile's instinctively protective feelings towards her.
She was beautiful, no denying that. Even though her harsh personality would make it nearly impossible for most men to see it. Niles though wasn't most men. Of course, through no fault of their own, they were born into different stations in life. He knew that it was unlikely they could ever end up together. Years of sexual desire towards her had morphed into mutual insults and bantering. It was their only release, for C.C. had also unknowingly felt attracted to Niles. Though she would never admit it, and constantly went after Maxwell. She knew deep down that Max would never be hers, and was secretly tortured to have feelings for a servant.
"It can't be! It would be a billion shot to one for it to have been him," Fran whispered. She realized that she was shivering. She hadn't thought of that incredible night that took place almost twenty years ago in more than eighteen years. She had been a young woman then and had bounced back from her heartache, but it had taken two full years before the memory had all but completely faded from her consciousness. After all, it was only six hours out of her life. Albeit an astounding six hours. As the years had gone by, she had all but forgotten him. Now twenty years later, the memories were flowing back.
It can't be, he would never have done that to a person. He is so honorable. He would never take a girl's virginity, declare his love, and then sneak away without a word. Suddenly she remembered the box. That box that contained the mementos from her youth. She had put it in her closet last year after retrieving it from Sylvia's apartment a couple days before her camp reunion. That reunion where Mr. Sheffield had simply taken her breath away by showing up at the last minute to rescue her from an embarrassing situation.
Fran jumped out of bed and ran to her closet. She dragged the box out and knelt on the floor rummaging through it. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw it...the green envelope with the Fotomat logo. With trembling fingers she took the photos out of the envelope. The first one made her smile. It was her posing under the mirrored disco ball at Studio 54.
Her heart started pounding rapidly as she looked at the next picture. "Oh my god!" She cried tears suddenly stinging her eyes. The mustache hid much of his face, but there was no mistaking that hair and those eyes. Fran started trembling as she stared at his face. She couldn't take her eyes off of it. Her breath was coming in short spurts and her pounding heart felt as if it was going to burst through her chest.
"Max," she whispered touching the photo. A single tear trickled down her cheek.
Fran skipped breakfast and had the Sheffield limo take her to Flushing. She ran down the stairs to Val's basement apartment.
"Fran! What are you doing here? It's so early, do you want some coffee?" Val said pouring her a cup. She was a little taken back at the expression on her best friend's face. What's going on? she wondered.
"Val!" Was all Fran could say. Her face was ashen as she pulled the photograph out of her purse. Fran handed it to her. She couldn't wait to see Val's reaction.
Confused, Val looked at it. Her mouth dropped open as 1978 stared her straight in the face. "Fran! Oh my god, Fran!" She cried, instantly recognizing the enormity of the photo she was now clutching. Val looked at her in disbelief. Her heart started beating faster. "I don't believe it! That was almost twenty years ago! It was him?"
Val's mind took her back to that fateful night. The night Fran had crawled though her bedroom window and confessed her loss of innocence. She also remembered the next night when she had to comfort her devastated friend. Fran had felt so betrayed when she had discovered that Max had left without telling her.
Fran had driven to Val's apartment after she left the disco. When Val let her in, she had nearly collapsed into her arms. Val led her to the bedroom. Fran had cried for hours, not just for her loss of innocence to a man who was so obviously a cad. But for the fact that she would never completely trust a man again. Val could do little but rock Fran in her arms and let her cry it out.
"Fran, Mr. Sheffield would never do something like that! It can't be him," Val said studying the picture more closely. She shook her head in complete astonishment. There was no doubt...It was him.
"Val, how can I ever trust him? Any man who could do that to a young girl is inherently rotten! Has his kind and gentle manner all been an act? When he told me he loved me on that plane from Paris and took it back was he just acting about being guilty? I'm so confused! What am I going to do?" Fran's heart was now racing. "Oh, Val. No wonder I was so attracted to him! This is just too huge! It's absolutely astounding! I mean, what are the odds that I would have knocked on his door almost two decades later?" Fran was starting to babble slightly as the shock of her discovery was wearing off.
"Val, how could I have not recognized him? How could he have not recognized me?" She said shaking her head in wonderment. I still can't believe this is really happening.
"Fran, you guys were together, what five or six hours? It was pretty dark in the disco, and I'm sure you didn't have bright lights on in his hotel suite. His hair was permed and a he had mustache. You were nineteen and he was twenty-five years old. I would be amazed if you did recognize each other!" Val said wisely.
Fran was surprised that Val was absolutely right. It doesn't happen very often. "Val, I've made a decision. I can't hold this in any longer. I'm going to confront him tonight," she said determinedly. "And, no more Mr. Sheffield. From now on it's Max. After what we've done, he's no longer just my boss." She took a deep breath, put the photo carefully in her purse and left.
Fran found ways to avoid seeing Max throughout the day. When they finally sat down to dinner, it was all she could do to keep from thrusting the photograph into his face and demanding an explanation. She was a little surprised that he was in such a fine mood this evening. He was so gracious and charming that she just couldn't believe he could have been such a cad so many years ago.
Unknown to Fran, Max was lately starting to think he made a mistake taking back 'The Thing' several months ago. As day after day went by, he was finding it harder to control his feelings for her. He was starting to finally admit to himself what everyone had known for years...that he is crazy about her. Admit it Maxwell, you were mad about her the second she walked in the door almost four years ago. He remembered the day she walked through his door. He had been almost mesmerized by her beauty and sense of humor. The resume written in lipstick had completely charmed him. He had felt inexplicably drawn to her. If he hadn't hired her that day, he would have asked her on a date. After he hired her though, he had to push those thoughts to the back of his mind that very day. He knew he couldn't explore those feelings if she was going to work for him. He would have to keep their relationship strictly professional.
"Miss Fine, you're awfully quiet this evening. Is something wrong?" Max gave her a charming smile. They were having dinner alone this Friday evening. The kids had gone to their school's football game and then they were spending the evening at their friend's homes. She's so lovely, I can't believe I took back telling her I love her. He was getting a little worried when she doesn't answer him immediately. I wonder what's bothering her. She's never this quiet.
"Um, no. Everything's fine," she said as his question breaks her reverie. She didn't address him as 'Mr. Sheffield' as she normally would have. But she wasn't quite ready to call him 'Max.' Not just yet. Fran forced a smile at him. His current charming manner was just confusing her even more.
After dinner Fran retreated to her room. She drew a hot bath. She very much needed to relax and do some serious thinking. After a half hour she made a decision. After getting out of the tub and drying off, she put on her white silk pajamas and matching slippers. She put the photograph from their youth in the breast pocket, took a deep breath and opened the door. She walked down the hall to his room.
Fran gathered all her courage. She was nervous, but strangely excited at what Max's reaction was going to be. Her heart was racing. She softly knocked on his door.
Maxwell opened his bedroom door and was surprised, but not displeased, to see Miss Fine standing there. "Hello, Miss Fine," he said holding the door open. "Did you want to talk to me about something?" He knew she had something on her mind at dinner. He was relieved that she seemed ready to discuss it with him.
"Um, Max. I need to talk to you. It's important," Her heart was now pounding through her chest.
"Of course," he said taking her hand and leading her to the couch in front of the fireplace. Did she just call me Max? She's never called me that before. Why does it sound so pleasantly familiar? He was extremely curious as to what she has to say. "Please sit. Can I offer you a drink?" he said already pouring the white wine into a crystal glass.
The memory of another bedroom scene long ago similar to this suddenly flashed into her mind. The recollection caused her to shiver slightly.
"Are you cold Miss Fine?" Max said as he noticed her shiver. He sat next to her and handed her the glass.
"No, I'm all right," she said deciding she really needed this drink. She downed it in one gulp causing Max to raise his eyebrows in surprise. She was not a big drinker. I wonder why she so obviously needed that one so badly. He thought now starting to get a little worried about the reason she was here.
"So, Miss Fine. Did you want to tell me what you wanted to talk to me about?" he said tenderly taking her hand. The smile he gave her almost took her breath away. It did nothing to calm her pounding heart. God she's so adorable in her little white pajamas! She looks so innocent, so sweet. A little shiver of déja vu shot though him, but for the life of him he can't fathom it. It's almost like I've been here before, but of course I haven't. Well, I guess that's what déja vu is. He thought; a little confused. He knew that this is all too familiar, but couldn't for the life of him figure out why. He turned his attention back to Miss Fine.
"Um, Max," Fran began slowly. She looked down at her hands. He registered a slightly surprised look at the unfamiliarity of her using his first name again, but he didn't comment. "What would you think of a man who would...uh, take a young girls innocence, declare his love, than run out on her the very next day, never to be seen again?" She looked up at him nervously.
Maxwell was thoroughly confused. Why is she asking me that? "Oh, god! Margaret!" He looked at her in horror. "Oh, dear god!"
"No, no! Not Maggie," she said quickly.
"Thank god!" Max cried. He settles down comforted that she's not talking about his daughter. "I don't understand, Miss Fine. The man is obviously a cad. Who are we talking about?" She should come with a bloody owner's manual. I don't understand what she's talking about half the time.
Fran swallowed. Her pounding heart was threatening to burst through her chest. Her expression was starting to frighten him. "Please tell me who this bounder is, Miss Fine." Max said taking her hands.
"You," she said softly, looking deeply into his eyes.
"WHAT? What are you talking about? I've never taken an innocent girl...!" Suddenly a twenty-year-old memory screamed at him. He remembered a hotel room and a beautiful young brunette. The memory of him holding her protectively after taking her innocence flooded his mind. Oh, my god! OH MY GOD! His brain shouts at him. It can't be! Suddenly a plethora of twenty-year old memories flood his mind. "IT CAN'T BE!" he cried out loud. Max took Fran's arms and looked desperately into her face. She took the photo out of her pocket and held it up to him. His mouth dropped open and his face turned white as 1978's Max and Fran smiled back at him.
"IT''S BLOODY IMPOSSIBLE! Oh my god! Fran! FRAN!" He took her in his arms. "This can't be happening!" he cried stunned.
"Oh, Max...how could you? How could you have deserted me?" Suddenly she burst into tears. The incredible emotions she had experienced the last twelve hours have finally taken their toll on her. She buried her head in his chest.
"Fran, Fran!" Max cried, his whole body trembled in disbelief, and sheer elation. "I tried to find you! I didn't know your last name! I hired a private investigator! Nigel had an accident and I had to fly to London that morning!" Suddenly he was remembering everything as if it were yesterday.
Max tried to catch his breath. His mind was reeling. Is this a dream? This is bloody impossible! A billion to one shot that we have found each other! He held her at arms length and stared at her, then down at the photo that was now lying on the couch. No wonder I was so bloody attracted to her when she knocked on my door almost four years ago.
Fran was so relieved at his explanation, and by the fact that he remembered that astounding night. "Oh, Mr. Sheffield! You remember!" she said unconsciously using his last name. "I mean, Max. I can't very well call you Mr. Sheffield anymore. Not after, well..." She looked down, now a little embarrassed.
"Fran, my beautiful Fran!" He took her back into his arms. "I thought of you for years! Right up until I met Sara. Fran, I had to push that night out of my mind. I remember now. Oh, god! I took you virginity!" His heart started beating madly as he realized how enormous this all was. Suddenly he kissed her passionately.
"Oh, Max. I've loved you for so long now," Fran whispered as they lied back on the couch holding each other, afraid to let go.
"Fran, I always felt so guilty for my feelings for you. That's why I took back saying I loved you. I thought a man could only have one true love, and that I lost mine when Sara died," he said as tears form in his eyes. Max looked deeply into her eyes. "Now I realize that I loved you first." As the realization suddenly hit him, his emotions crashed down on his brain. Maxwell started sobbing. He was crying for the years wasted without her. He had loved Sara, no doubt about it, but he now knows that Fran Fine was his true soul mate.
Max would have married her that night he took her innocence if she had asked him, and he would have had absolutely no trepidations. "Oh my darling, my darling," he cried holding her again, afraid to let go. He was terrified that he was dreaming. All of a sudden Max remembered that night almost two decades ago vividly. He had pushed the memory of his mind because it had been so painful. He had forced himself to forget her, and that astounding evening. He had never taken a girl's innocence before or since. That alone had affected him deeply. The fact that she had chosen him, a nineteen-year old girl/woman had waited forhim, had shaken him to his core. He now remembered distinctly every single second of that night so long ago. The memories flooded back like a tidal wave.
"Fran, I took your virginity." he said softly. She looked up at him and was on the verge of tears again as she witnesses the look of pure love in his eyes. "I don't take that lightly. That makes you mine." He lifted her and carried her to his bed. "I love you Fran." His body was still trembling. The utter shock of this incredible night hadn't worn off, but Max knew only one thing. He had to have her, here and now.
He deposited her on the bed and ripped off his shirt. Max's breathing was heavy and his heart was pounding. He got in and let out a low groan as he got on top of her. He unbuttoned her top and took it off. He let his lips find her breast while his hand stroked her bare thighs. Max slowly let his hand travel up her thighs between her legs and gently pulled her panties off.
"Oh Max." Fran couldn't believe that this was really happening. She had dreamed of this moment for years. Fran was now lying naked for him. Max looked into her eyes then slowly down her body. He swallowed. His heart was now pounding madly.
"Oh, Fran, you are so lovely," he murmured kissing her. He quickly unzipped his pants and kicked them off. It took all his will power not to just thrust his throbbing arousal into her immediately. He kissed her and let his tongue to wonderful things to her mouth. His hand traveled down her body and gently forced her knees apart.
"Relax, darling," he whispered as she unconsciously, shyly puts them together. After five years of complete celibacy with Mr. Sheffield, Fran was a little vulnerable being this intimate with him. She allowed him to spread her knees apart again and just gave into the inevitable.
Max ran his finger slowly, lightly from her knees down her inner thigh. Fran started breathing heavily as she felt him near her. When his finger found her heat, she let out a soft, involuntary moan.
"Fran, do you like this, darling?" He whispered looking into her eyes. She nodded shyly and kissed him. She held him very tightly. Max pushed deeper and was delighted to feel her clenching his fingers. "You're silky wet," he groaned. His fingers massaged inside of her with a single purpose.
Suddenly Fran clutched him tightly. "Stop. Stop...Max. No!" she cried weakly.
"Come. I want you to," he whispered hoarsely, massaging more fervently.
Fran cried out his name as waves of ecstasy suddenly careened through her. She couldn't have stopped if she wanted to.
Max looked down at her face watching her enjoy her orgasm in positive glee. He had known that he had to satisfy her first because he didn't know how long he was going to be able to hold out when they made love. It has been a long time for him. I owed her that.
Fran opened her eyes and looked up at him. "Max." was all she could say as her breathing becomes more normal. She looked adoringly into his eyes. "I want you, make love to me," she whispered
"My pleasure." Max got on top of her. He swallowed and lowered himself to her. She was so ready for him he slid rather easily into her. "Oh Fran," he moaned as his hardness felt her muscles contracting wildly around him. He whispered her name and a few profanities as he felt the incredible pleasure of her receiving him. He pressed himself deeply into her.
"Max," she whispered hugging him to her. I never realized how big he is. Fran thought happily. "You're so big." She gasped kissing him.
"It's all for you darling," he murmured thrusting himself in deeper. They both moaned at that. "Fran, I don't know how much longer I can hold on...it's been so long, and you feel so good," he groaned desperately.
"Oh Max!" she cried as the second round of pleasure waves enveloped her. He felt her inner muscles flexing and unflexing madly around his manhood. They were milking his essence right out of him. He was beyond grateful as he felt her obvious second climax. Max thrust himself in one last time and called out her name. He exploded furiously into her. He lay down on top of her, completely spent. He slowly rolled over and pulled her on top of him. His breathing was slowly coming under control. Fran buried her head in his chest and felt his pounding heart. Finally he pulled her up to him so that they were face to face.
"Do you know how much I love you?" he said kissing her.
"I was always yours, Max," she whispered.
He took her in his arms again and looked her in the eyes. "You know what this means, don't you?" he said with a twinkle in his eyes. "You were nineteen, I was twenty five. Now I know your real age." Max kissed her triumphantly.