I was inspired to write this after seeing an episode of Days of Our Lives. I’ve become a sucker for that Soap Opera, thanks to my mom! This story takes place many, many years after Fran started working for Maxwell. They never got married, but Fran decided to go out and get a better job.


Fran woke up late Saturday morning. Her mind was set on what happened the night before. Her boyfriend of 4 years had dumped her for someone else. Somehow she got herself up and out of bed. She decided that it wasn’t worth her time worrying over it and she was too good for him anyway. She walked to her dresser and pulled out an outfit that announced she was moving on. Since she was single again, she decided to treat herself to brunch at the fanciest restaraunt. She got dressed, and drove to Chez Paris. She walked up to the counter and asked for a seat for one. Instantly she was taken to her seat by a handsome young man whom she recognized, but couldn’t put her finger on who it was. She shrugged it off and ordered herself a glass of finest champagne.
When the waiter came back, he smiled at her, as if they had a connection. She smiled back and gave him her order. The waiter walked away, and accidenly knocked her purse off her chair without realizing it. She looked to see where it went. It had been knocked off about 3 feet away from her seat. She stood up to get it. When she reached down to pick it up, she was startled to see another hand on it!
“Is this yours?” a man’s voice sounded.
Fran froze. She had heard the British accent before. She didn’t even look up before she threw herself on the man with a big hug.
“Mr. Sheffield! Oh, it’s been so long!” exclaimed Fran.
“Yes, I know. I was just thinking about you the other day. Did you happen to see Brighton?”
“Brighton?” Fran then realized that the handome young waiter was a grown Brighton. “That was-”
Maxwell nodded before she even finished.

It's good.