"Hey, there are some people who wanted to see you," he said to me with a mischievous grin just as he led me past a few tables to a small group waiting for us just at the outskirts of the ballroom.
"Bobby! Aimee! Rose! Macy! Becs! Oh, my!"
I must've looked incredibly silly with my jaw hanging open as I surveyed the group of guests Felicity was ushering toward us.
Aimee was in a stylish burgundy dress holding a wide-eyed but dolled-up Rose by the hand. Bobby was in a suit, his graying hair even slicked up neatly. A half a dozen of my friends and co-workers from Marlow's were there too, all prettily-dressed and looking in awe of the whole event.
Gilles came in behind them, pushing an all-decked-out Mrs. Schubert in her wheelchair, her husband walking beside her.
I'd invited all of them, considering they were all I got, but they had all made excuses. I figured it was probably better that they didn't come because I couldn't look after them the same time I was figuring out how to behave as Brandon's fiancee. But here they were, looking all grandly dressed and happy to have come.
"Fel, did you get them all over here?" I asked my assitant who looked lovely in an emerald green dress. "How? Why? Wha—"
"Mr. Maxfield arranged for all of it," she answered, nodding at Brandon. "It was a surprise."
I turned to him and found him grinning down at me.
My heart couldn't take it as it tightened with a ridiculous sense of happiness.
"Oh, Brand. Thank you!" I gushed at him and before I could think better of it, I practically leapt into his arms, wrapping my own around his neck as he easily caught me and lifted me off the floor. "Thank you, thank you!"
"You're welcome," he said as our noses touched. Then his eyes closed as he cupped the back of my head and pulled me in for a sweet, slow kiss.
"Mommy, I thought we were going to eat but Shar-wot and Bwandon are just kissin' again!"
Our small group burst into laughter and I chuckled as Brandon set me back down on my feet.
"Well, I'm sure we can arrange for something for you to nibble on, Rose," Brandon said as he squatted and picked up the girl in his arms. He smiled and nodded at the rest of my guests. "Come on, everyone. Let's get you all seated. Appetizers are being served and dinner should be ready after the short program my father insisted on."
I stayed behind the group as Brandon led them to a table close to ours, chatting easily with some of them when I didn't think he'd met most of them before.
"I have a stupid grin on my face, don't I?" I said to Felicity who stayed back with me.
She laughed. "You do but it looks good there. I can see this is a total shocker."
"It is," I admitted, watching as Brandon set Rose down on a slightly raised chair next to Aimee before turning to speak to the Schuberts, extending a hand to the couple. "It's an amazingly sweet, totally welcome, absolutely mind-blowing shocker."
Felicity laughed. "Well, Mr. Maxfield is quite besotted with you so this isn't that out of character."
Isn't it? Brandon's only obligation is to marry you, keep you for a year and pay you a million dollars. Him being sweet and thoughtful isn't part of the bargain but he doesn't seem to mind. Maybe he isn't as mercenary or cold as you thought he was.
There was nothing cold about that kiss he gave me a few minutes ago. And there was nothing mercenary or calculating about his gesture in inviting my friends over to his world.
"Thank you, Fel," I told my assistant with a quick, grateful hug. "Can you do me one last favor? After that you're free to party away."
"Sure. What is it?"
Brandon turned around, looking for me, and beckoned me over.
"Can you arrange for some snacks to be handed out to the reporters outside?" I asked as I started moving toward Brandon.
"I'll get on it," she said with a nod.
"Thanks, Fel!"
With a broad grin, I sauntered to Brandon who held out a hand to me, waiting patiently, his hazel eyes sparkling.
It required little effort to forget our secret when he was smiling at me like I was the only girl in the room.
Maybe, just maybe, neither of us were just pretending anymore.
******
The program was short but sweet.
Martin had gotten up the stage to speak, thanking everyone first for coming tonight before turning wise blue eyes to me and Brandon who sat back, our entwined hands resting on his lap.
"There are many things I could say why I'm happy that the two of you are getting married," he started solemnly that for a second I worried he was suddenly going to blurt out that he'd blackmailed Brandon into marrying me.
My tension eased when he smiled. "But I won't burden you with my reasons. I'd let you find them out on your own and cross my fingers that you will understand one day."
Martin wins the cryptic award. That sly old man.
I just smiled back at him, aware of Brandon's fingers squeezing mine gently as his father backed away from the stage and called up a surprise performer.
Mattie, in a sharp black suit, slipped out from the small door that led backstage with a shy, crooked smile on his face, pushing his glasses up his nose before taking a formal bow.
"I thought you said he wasn't coming tonight," I told Brandon, turning to him and finding him smiling in surprise as his little brother took a seat by the piano I didn't realize was even on the stage.
"Dad said he wasn't," Brandon answered. "He normally never comes to any kind of dinner party even where children are allowed."
I said nothing else when Mattie cleared his throat and spoke into the microphone poised over the piano.
"This is a song I wrote for Brandon and Charlotte," he said quietly. "It's called Nothing Else. I hope you like it."
A sweet, simple melody filled the room before Mattie's soft voice began. There was an almost angelic quality to his young voice that made the song sound reverent.
It's not hard to guess
Why there's nothing else
Either of them could see
Their eyes barely leave
One another
Not a second longer
She smiles and laughs when
He whispers in her ear
He takes in a deep breath
Whenever she comes near
No one's left wondering
Even as they're asking
Love has cast its spells
It could be nothing else.
"My God," I whispered as my heart pounded and my eyes stung with tears. "Brand, your brother is a freaking romantic genius. He's brilliant!"
"Yes," he answered in an odd tone. "And highly observant."
I frowned, wondering what he meant by that and why he didn't sound pleased.
Everyone was mesmerized by Mattie's slow ballad I could practically hear sniffling in the room.
I didn't say anything though, and just listened in rapt attention as Mattie finished his song.
When he did, everyone rose on their feet and applauded heartily.
Mattie turned to his audience, grinned and stood up to do a deep bow before walking off the stage.
Dinner was announced and although Brandon was as polite and attentive as ever, I could feel the strange shift in his mood. Before I could ask him about it after we dined, he excused himself to talk to some people about business. Business, when he did promise he wouldn't do any of that tonight.
He reappeared when the dancing started, sweeping me around the ballroom just right before other couples joined us.
"Everything alright?" I asked, observing his inscrutable expression. "You've been quiet."
His lips tightened into a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm fine, Charlotte."
And that was the end of that conversation.
I got distracted from it after more people came up to me in greeting and when the Schuberts bid us goodnight before Gilles took them home. Brandon remained stiff and formal.
I was growing irritated but before I could drag him into a
corner and demand what his problem was, Jake showed up and claimed my next dance.
"I was warned you had a fiery temper," he said conversationally, his green eyes sparkling with mirth. "Looking at you right now, I could tell it wouldn't have been an exaggeration."
I sighed, some of my annoyance draining away. "Sorry I'm poor company. It's been a long evening already."
"You should probably get some fresh air or something like that after our dance," he said, concern replacing his humor. "Or maybe Brandon should take you home if you're not feeling well."
"I'll be fine," I assured him. "I'll probably skip the next two dances and freshen up and I'll be back to normal. It's a great party. I don't want to spoil it for anyone."
He studied me for a long moment that I began to worry he was seeing more than I wanted him to.
"I don't really know who you are, Charlotte, and how you and Brandon came to be," he said in a serious tone. "If you'd been a different kind of girl, I'd ask a lot of questions knowing Brandon and how determined he was not to marry quite yet. But after meeting you tonight, I've decided my friend is quite sane and damn lucky."
I laughed and rolled my eyes. "Jake, if I'd been a differnt kind of girl, I'd swoon and declare my undying love for you right this moment but I'm not, so I'll say thank you instead."
He laughed and I joined in but as his eyes moved to something behind me, his easy expression darkened and his hold on me tightened.
"Jake?" I asked uncertainly, trying to glance over my shoulder at whatever caught his attention.
"Now would be a good time to freshen up, Charlotte," he said as he smoothly but hurriedly moved me out of the ballroom. "Sit out the next couple of dances and put your feet up or something."
He led me to the small hall that led to the restrooms.
"Are we by any chance escaping from a girl whose heart you broke or something, Jake?" I asked as he practically dragged me to the door of the ladies' room.
He pulled up short and exhaled a sharp breath, managing a strained smile at me. "Something like that. Sorry, Charlotte. I just had to get off the dance floor."
I tsked at him teasingly. "I guess being a ladies' man isn't always a fun, convenient thing. Good to know. Maybe fewer guys would try it."
He chuckled, lightening up. "I definitely wouldn't recommend it to every guy. Alright, I'll see you later, okay? Maybe fifteen minutes or so?"
"Yeah, yeah. Go scram into your hiding place," I told him with a roll of my eyes.
He turned and walked away and I continued into the ladies' room.
I halted when I heard familiar voices inside.
"It looks like a vomit stain."
"It's the best that I can do, Bess."
"You should go home, Tessa. I don't know why you'd want to stick around for that skank's engagement party."
"It's also Brandon's engagement party and that skank is his fiancee so I'd choose my words carefully if I were you. What I'm wondering is what you're doing at this party when Anna specifically requested you not to come. Here you are, skulking around in the ladies' room."
I smiled, still pressed up against the door listening.
Tessa wasn't the timid little mouse everyone accused her to be. And Bessy Mitchell hadn't changed one whit since I last ran into her.
"I do as I please, Tessa, and not even Anna can boss me around," Bessy snorted. "Besides, I wanted to see how Charity Charlotte's doing. I'm sure she's in cloud nine thinking she's snapped up your brother but we both know just how deluded she is if she believes that."
A pregnant pause.
"Don't make trouble, Bess," Tessa finally muttered. "You may not care about what Anna and I say but if you cause Charlotte any kind of distress, Brandon will toss you out and my father will be right behind him to shut the door in your face."
"They wouldn't," I said out loud, walking into the room, startling both girls.
Tessa had an ugly brown stain on the area just at the seam where her neckline and shoulder strap met and she was still diligently trying to wipe it off with a damp paper towel. Bessy was clad in a short, clingy, purple dress, her endless legs showcased in sky-high, dominatrix-inspired black leather heels. Her face was fully painted on and her long, glossy brown hair was put up in a sleek, ponytail. Her pale blue eyes narrowed at me.
"I wouldn't want either Brandon or Martin to get their hands dirty by tossing her out," I said breezily as I came to stand next to Tessa in front of the mirror. "Just in case there's a new strain of STD now that can be transmitted through the merest touch. After all, if there is to be one discovered, Bessy here would be the first candidate for patient zero."
I would like to say that I was normally a nice person but something about Bessy Mitchell always goaded me into near cruelty. I knew this but didn't stop me.
Tessa's eyes rounded in shock and Bessy's lips curled down into an ugly pout. Her breast implants must've come with extra silicone because she injected some into her lips.
"Charity Charlotte," Bessy sneered, standing up to her full height. "Do you think that just because Brandon is marrying you, you could act like you're better than me?"
I glanced at Tessa and then back at Bessy in puzzlement. "No. I've always acted like I'm better than you because I am. There's nothing new about that. You prove it over and over again."
Her eyes flashed furiously. "Why, you little bitch. Don't think I'm afraid of you because you're engaged to Brandon."
She lifted her chin up, smiling smugly. "You're not the only one intimately acquainted with him. He's had a soft spot for me since I joined their ski trip last year. It was cold and we'd come up with ways to get the heat on."
Jealousy—the hot, raging kind—streaked through me but I pushed it back down.
When it came to claims of any kind of conquest from Bessy, one should be aware that many of them were as fake as her boobs.
I wrinkled my nose and glanced at Tessa who looked disgusted. "While neither of us want to particularly imagine your brother and Bessy here getting it on, I say we just agree and forget about it to discourage any more details. I only hope Brandon got himself tested to the hilt because it will ruin our wedding night if he'd caught anything from her."
"We just kissed, okay?" Bessy snarled, her cheeks flushing a deep red. "We made out a few times and it was hot as hell but we decided not to get weird about it because I was friends with Anna. But it was so good while it lasted and this is why I know that no matter how sweet and affectionate Brandon is being with you, it means nothing because he can turn it on and off like that with any woman if he chooses to."
My temper flared. "If he can have any woman he wants, anytime and however he wants her, why the hell do you think he would bother getting married and saddling himself with one particular woman?"
I know the answer to that question but Bessy doesn't and she can torture herself with it for the meantime.
Bessy's mouth twitched as if she was about to snap back at me but she couldn't muster a word as my question echoed around the room. With a frustrated growl, she stormed out and left Tessa and I in the defeaning silence.
"That went well," I finally said, giving the girl a rueful smile. "I admit I don't have a lot of practice dealing with former flames of the man I'm marrying but it could've been worse, don't you think?"
Tessa's brown eyes were unreadable as she studied me for a moment. "If Brandon made out with her, it's only probably because she threw herself at him."
I sighed and turned to the mirror to tuck back a few strands of hair that escaped my braids. "Yes, well. Bessy would throw herself at anything with a penis. But whatever Brandon did before we met is his business. It doesn't bother me."
Tessa turned back to the mirror as well and resumed cleaning the stain out of her dress. "We both know it does but you don't have to admit it."
It was time for a change of topic.
"It's not too big that we can probably cover it up with something," I told Tessa as I moved closer and inspected the stain. "The fabri
c is probably ruined but the rest of your night doesn't have to be."
She sighed and tossed the damp, balled-up paper towel into the trash. "I've got nothing to cover it though. I probably should just go home. It's bad enough I'm the less attractive sister. I don't want to be the grubby one too."
I grinned. "You're not less attractive. Anna is just more confident about herself. If you were too, you'd shine just as brightly."
"Sure, I believe you," Tessa said with a weak smile, obviously unconvinced.
"Okay, we can remedy this," I said, rubbing my hands together.
I looked around the room, at her dress, inside my clutch, at my dress and the lightbulb went off in my head. "Oh, I have an idea."
I sat down on one of the leather armchairs in the swanky bathroom and reached for the hem of my layered skirt.
"Uh, Charlotte. What are you doing?" Tessa asked, watching me in horror when I caught one end of the bottom-most layer of my tiered tulle skirt and yanked hard, a ripping sound filling the room.
"No one would notice," I assured her as I pulled the layer off which was gratefully longer that the flesh-colored skirt-insert underneath. Ripping it off would only reveal a few wisps of thread and more of my sandals.
Tessa bent down and pulled the main skirt in the opposite direction to give it enough tension that would let me rip the layer off more easily. "And just what exactly do you plan with this?"
Once the layer was completely detached from the skirt, I got up and started ripping the two ends that were sewn together. "We'll fold it lengthwise until it's only about a couple of inches wide and we can tie it around the bottom of your strap and make some kind of flower bow to hide the stain."
"A flower bow? Tulle isn't exactly the most pliable fabric, you know?" Tessa said as she followed me to the vanity counter and began tugging the thread out of the of holes on the fabric.
"I know which is why it's going to make a springy bow and stay in place," I replied, flattening the fabric down with my fingers before folding it tightly over itself to form a band. "We just have to knot it really tightly on the base so it holds."
When I had the band pinched at both ends, I stood in front of Tessa who remained still as I inserted the fabric behind her strap and started to tie it together in an artsy bow, tying it over itself a few times so the curved layers formed what looked like petals after I nudged them in place. The stain disappared in the shadow of the fabric flower bow. With its pretty rose shade, it actually complimented the peach color of Tessa's dress.
The Mischievous Mrs. Maxfield Page 14