Truth or Dare

As they are being called down, they are both ready and looking smashing. Ready for a real night of Copacabana.

The dinner with Alexandro is lovely. They tell him a lot about New York and the show. He explains some about the country and the city. The food is delicious ane wie wine expensive. Maxwell and Fran sit on opposite sides of each other and can’t help stealing a few glances and meaningful smiles.

At 10 p.m. they are ready to leave for “A Copa” to see Jenna perform and get the real feeling of Copacabana Samba. The show is fabulous and Jenna is stunning.

“I can’t believe how she gets her body to do that” Fran whispers to Maxwell during the show.

“Me neither. But I don’t care. She is perfect. She’s just exactly the girl I was looking for.”

Fran pokes him in the ribs. “Hey, I thought I was the girl you were looking for”.

Maxwell looks sideways and catches Fran big smile. He takes her hand in his and gives a soft kiss on it.

“I’ll just keep this one here before you will severely hurt me” he says and places her hand entwined with his in his lap.

As they continue the show Fran has a hard time concentrating. She feels Maxwell’s thumb caressing the skin on her hand. Even from this little touch she can melt. She is curious on how this evening will progress. It was always a question with Mr Sheffield. His mood could turn from hot to cold and back. Like a delicate flower. If you give him enough water he will grow and blossom but if you give him just a little too much you will reach the opposite. If he only knew how good they were for each other. He wanted her, she wanted him and not just on a physical base, she knew that. She wasn’t the only one walking on cloud nine when they were together. But when would he admit that to himself?

For now, her hand was in his lap and it was the best she could reach at the moment. If they were meant to be together, it would happen. But how ‘meant to be’ where they if even Rio wouldn’t do the trick?

Maxwell was feeling good. He had found the star for his play and she was even better then he had expected. She was beautiful, no doubt, but he only looked at her as a producer. He noticed the men around him drooling from just looking at her. It didn’t even come to his mind. Hell, why should it? he was holding the hand of the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on and it felt good. Scary but good. He vowed himself to stop thinking where this trip would lead them to. He would just let faith run his course. Could he really do that?

After the show Alexandro introduces Maxwell and Fran to Jenna. She is a nice woman. Her English is decent enough to have a good conversation and Fran immediately takes to her. Jenna has a liveliness around her that appeals Fran. She had always thought her neighbourhood was tough but to Jenna it was just a joke. She has immense respect for her believe in life.

When Maxwell tells Jenna that he wants to hire her for Broadway she cries and hugs them both.

“Thank you so much. How can I repay you?” she says while shaking their hands for the fifth time.

“Well, how about teaching those stuffy Americans a little samba?” Alexandro jokes.

“Hey, I’m European. We have a natural swing” Maxwell tries not wanting to appear to stuffy in this environment.

“Oh yeah Mr. Sheffield. The English Walsh is particularly known to be very funky” Fran jokes.

Jenna and Alexandro laugh. “Come on, we’ll show you how it’s done” Jenna says taking Maxwell by the hand. “Fran, I hope you don’t mind me taking your man?” Jenna says as she walks past Fran pulling Maxwell along with her.

“No” Fran replies “Just as long as you hold your hand where I can see them”.

“Then I will be your teacher” Alexandro says taking Fran’s hand. “When I’m done with you, you will drive your gorgeous Brit crazy with your Samba moves”.

Fran laughs whole heartily. And slaps Alex on the chest. “If it would only be that simple, I’d already have a ring on this finger”.

“Ah but Fran, don’t forget you’re in Rio the Janeiro. Love is all around.”

Fran and Maxwell both get introduced to the hip swaying motion of the samba. Fran seems to get the hang of it pretty quickly. Leaving Alexandro to make high pitched sounds of appreciation.

Maxwell has less luck holding his rhythm, causing Jenna to get into a hysteric laughter every now and then when Maxwell tries to get ‘into the groove’.

“He is hopeless” Jenna says as she walks up to Fran. “Here in Brazil we say that good samba dancers are good lovers, so judging from his samba …” Jenna raises her eyebrows with a mocking smile.

“If that’s the true than he will make a great samba dancer. He just need the right encouragement” Fran winks at her walking towards Maxwell who is leaning against the bar.

Maxwell is exhausted. Everywhere he sees men swaying their hips on the music and he has no idea how they do that. He was embarrassed by Jenna’s laughs. Okay, she didn’t mean it like that but he was a man after all. He could dance. When he and Fran had danced at her reunion the whole ballroom had watched them. And now…. What would she think of hi
He
He watches Fran giving Jenna a small slap on the shoulder and walking towards him. He leans back and just enjoys seeing her dress and the body within move with every step she takes. He sees other men watching as well and he hates that. But she only has eyes for him, coming closer and close
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She stops just a few feet from him, smiling brightly. Then she lets her hips slowly move from side to side on the rhythm of the samba beats. Her hips sway a little more with every motion unthe ihe is completely one with the beat. With both hands she reached up and pulls her hair down throwing whatever was holding it up, away from her. Then she lets her hands slide along her neck, shoulders and body, intoxicating him with every move.

Maxwell can’t do anything but stare at her. Her samba seems perfect to him and the erotic moves from her hips cause a big lump in his throat. He feels his jaw dropping and going numb, making it impossible to close his mouth. He doesn’t know if he is actually breathing or not. The only thing he can do now is watch. Watch her moving, watch her hands touching her own body wishing it were his. The dress sways along with her hips, showing the motion of her breasts with every move she makes. He cleaclearly see the muscles in her tanned slim legs guiding her dancing moves. She is looking directly in his eyes, licking her lips. She is clearly seducing him, moving like she’s making love to him, like there is no space between them. In her deep brown eyes he can see her desire like he had witnessed before. She must be able to see his in his own. He feels like she’s moving her hips against his in heated passion. He can feel her slender hands on his back, moving down to his buttocks. She presses him into her again, like she did on the staircase. Her breasts are crushed up against his chest. He feels all that, yet there is still 3 feet between them.

He starts hating that space. He needs to feel that body against his. It is designed to fit his and he just needs to experience that once again. She’s never enough. Every time he touched her he needed it more. She was like cocaine in his brain. Like whiskey in his body. Swallowing him with every look and every move.

Not braking his gaze he walks up towards her until he is one feet away. Without thinking he too moves his hips to thet, st, still looking deeply in her eyes. He doesn’t need to give orders to his body, it moves by itself, following the path Fran clears for him. With one arm he reaches out for her waist and pulls her firmly to him.

“I think this dance is meant for two” he whispers to her as he crushes her body to his own. Their bodies seem to have no problem adjusting to each other. Rhythmically they copy each others moves and follow every motion.

Maxwell’s hands are folded around her waist. His fingertips resting on her backside. He can’t help squeezing it a little. While he squeezes, Fran digs her nails in the flesh of his back. His sun burned skin cries out in pain. He tightens his jaw trying to resist it. “Miss Fine can you please move your hands somewhere I am not burned”
an dan doesn’t think twice to let her hands go down to his buttocks. She softly pinches the flesh.

Maxwell bites his lip hard. The combination of her body to his and her fingers in the flesh of his rear drive him absolutely crazy. Her gaze is again on his and his eyes are on hers. Their faces are so close but don’t touch. They just breath in each other’s heated breath. Suddenly Maxwell’s hand both slide downwards and he pushes her hips hard into his own continuing the motion of the samba.

He knows she can feel him now and he wants her to feel him. He wants her to know what she does to him, how she drives him mad.

Fran is surprised by his action and lets out a little scream. Recovering again she feels him evidently brushing up against her. Their eyes are still locked. In those olive green pools is written exactly what he feels and she knows he wants her to know. This is his way of showing how she turns him on. She wants to smile, but can’t. His lusty gaze on her makes her return that call. She lets one hand move from his rear to his head. Her hand slides madly through his thick hair while her other hand is firmly grasping his buttocks. Their faces still only inches apart.

What the bloody hell was he doing? Maxwell asks himself while he and Fran virtually make love on the dance floor. From the second she entered his home, he knew she was trouble. What kind of game did he enter when he hired her? And who’s game? It felt like he was being tested. By God, by Sara, he didn’t know. He was tested if he could keep his promise to himself, to his deceased wife, to his children. He would never love again. He would never let anyone again so close into his life. His share of love has passed and there would be no one to dishonour that memory.

But here she was, and he wanted her. He craved for her like he craved nothing else. He didn’t want it but it happened. How could he not with a woman like this in his house. God defied him. He was sure of that now. Testing him if he was who he thought he was. Love only hurts. That was what he had told himself when in mourning. No love no pain. No woman no cry. He was sure to never love again and never feel that intense hurt again. Never the lust. He could live without it. His body would need no woman. But now it did and he despised it therefor. He didn’t want to fail the test. He didn’t…. but it was inevitable. There was no con.
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Fran watches his look change. His eyes get darker. She watches him fighting his emotions, fighting what is happening between the two of them. Then it is suddenly over. He jerks away and runs off, leaving her alone on the dance floor in an unknown city, in an unknown country.

Maxwell doesn’t even know where he is running to. He just knows he needs air. Cold sobering air. With his hands he makes a way through the cloud to a big a steel door, he remembers entering through. With a big push he slams the door open and practically stumbles on the street.

He crawls to the wall and sits down, filling his nostrils with thick air that smells of methanol and cooled down heat. It doesn’t keep his heart from pounding out of his chest. Around him there are noises like he is used to hearing in the night. Music coming from clubs, voices of people walking everywhere and cars going on eternally. Only the sound of the sea and the smell of the air remind him that he is thousands of miles away from home. Around him are only a few people. Most of them are just walking by and two big guys stand at the door. Obviously considering him to be a drunk guest who needs some air.

Above him the sky is lighted by millions of stars. Maxwell gets up and snaps his head to his back facing the stars fully know. “What do you want?” he calls out softly afraid that someone might hear him. He moves away a bit from the gorillas at the door. “Did I fail your test now?” again there is no response. “Do you want me to admit it?” his head is throbbing with tension. “I care for her, I love her, I want her!” he screams louder into the warm night. “What does that make me now? A fool, a traitor? Weak?” his voice echoes through the streets. A few people look up but most of them don’t even pay attention.

“Oh Sara, I don’t want to betray you. I miss you still” his voice is softer now. “I thought I died along with you but I couldn’t. I had to be strong. For the children, for myself. I had to keep myself alive.” His eyes moisten now. He turns and puts his head against the cool stone of the wall. Tears start streaming down his face. “But she is good for me. She makes me feel alive and it just feels so damn good!” he lifts his face up again, pushing his palms against the wall. “If I failed your test, I am sorry. You must know, I have tried but you are not here anymore. You left me out here in the cold.” The volume of his voice has increased again.

“It’s not your fault, I know. But I am still here and I have to go on. I need her, I can’t do it without her.” He puts his hands to his head, burring them in his hair. “I don’t want to need anyone, I don’t want the pain anymore but it’s too late. She’s here now.” He pounds a fist on the left side of his chest. “And she will not get out.” With that he turns around becoming eye to eye with Fran.

Fran is dumbfounded when Maxwell leaves her in the club. She looks around for Alexandro and Jenna but they are nowhere to be seen. She walks to the bar and her her back against it trying to focus on what to do next. In the corner of her eyes a coloured figure moves towards him. “He does care for you” she hears a voice.

It’s Alex standing beside her. “Oooh, Alex I am so happy to find you here. She hugs him gratefully. Alexandro takes her into a tight embrace trying to calm her down. “He will come around”.

“You know, my former lover Leonardo died six years ago.” A shadow falls over his face as he tells her.

“I didn’t know he was sick but a week before he died he told me he had AIDS.” Fran looks at him “I am so sorry.”

“He didn’t die of the disease though. He was scared of the pills, the suffering and the decaying so he shot himself one night. I was beyond grief. I was certain I was sick myself as well and locked myself in my room. I didn’t eat, didn’t sleep. I just stared at the wall. I was a living corpse.” A slight smile forms on his face.

“But a good friend got me out of the room and got me tested. It turned out I wasn’t infected. But I didn’t care. I lost the love of my life and vowed to never love again.”

He looks around the dance floor, “see what I would have been missing if I kept that promise?”

Fran follows his gaze. Many good looking men were dancing but she didn’t really care.

“I found out that living my life like a dead person wouldn’t help him. It would just make the tragedy bigger, so gradually I went out and had fun again. Not finding another love yet but having enough fun as a guy possibly can.” He laughs naughtily, blinking at Fran.

“That probably wasn’t easy.” It’s more a statement from Fran than a question.

“No there was a lot of guilt. A lot of times I ran away before me and a guy would even make it to our room. A lot of tears were shed but eventually it faded. I still love Leonardo but my life doesn’t evolve around that loss anymore. And so will Maxwell’s life go on and from the way he looks at you, you can be sure that he wants to go on with you.”

Fran lets the words sink into her. She already knew the problem but having someone explaining it made her realise his pain. She feels the urge to sheltem frm from that pain. Holding him and making his demons disappear. She has to find him.