The Mischievous Mrs. Maxfield

by Ninya Tippett

  For years, I learned to keep them sealed shut in the back of my mind but confessing to Brandon today liberated my emotions and also freed up the demons of those memories.

  Before I could think better of it, I was on my feet, navigating my way in the darkness until I grasped the door handle and turned it.

  There was some illumination along the hall, mostly from the light spilling into the living room from the large glass windows.

  I located Brandon's bedroom door and pushed it open without knocking.

  I couldn't see much either but I'd memorized the layout of the room and slowly made my way to the direction of the bed where I could hear his even breathing. He was probably already asleep and he might throw me out for disturbing him but I had to risk it if I didn't want to be kept up all night with thoughts about my parents.

  My fingers had just grasped the edge of his covers when a pair of strong arms reached forward and pulled me into the bed, wrapping around me as my weight settled into the warm cocoon of Brandon's embrace. He clearly wasn't asleep.

  "I just didn't want to be alone. You know... After all that I told you today."

  I felt his nose graze my forehead before his warm lips pressed against my brow. "You can just stay here, you know?"

  I bit my lip, pressing myself further against his chest, uncaring of the slight discomfort on my midsection. "I'm not sure if that's a good idea."

  "It's the best idea," he said and I could hear the smile in his voice. "I get to snuggle with you."

  I smirked. "You didn't strike me as the snuggling type."

  "I'm sure I wasn't before but I'll take whatever I can get from you, Charlotte," he said huskily, one of his hands settling on the small of my back and rubbing slow, soothing circles against the thin fabric of my top. "If all I ever get to do is hold you in my arms each night for as long as we're married, I'll survive."

  That should've really sounded ominous. That kind of attachment was exactly what I wanted to avoid with Brandon but as my body started to relax at the beginnings of slumber, my eyes drifting close and my breathing deepening, his words sounded like a sweet, solemn promise to me.

  Chapter Twelve: Here Comes The Unlikely Bride

  The day before the wedding was a crazy, splendid blur.

  It started with waking up snuggled against Brandon whose peaceful, sleeping face gave me a near cardiac arrest so early in the morning. I spent a good fifteen minutes just studying his softened features and wondering at the contrast of this relaxed, youthful Brandon from the usually stern and intense businessman who went about ordering and organizing everything in his life to fit his plans.

  Except when it comes to you. You're the anomaly in his perfectly planned life.

  And because Brandon, aside from being attractive, successful and filthy rich, was also practically all-knowing like his father, he suddenly opened his eyes and caught me staring.

  That slow, lazy smile that stretched across his face nearly did me in so I greeted him with a disgusted groan and tried to roll away but he quickly caged me in his arms and pulled me in closer until we were practically welded together.

  "Ahkenbweehanahareeyineetuhpee."

  He pulled away slightly to look at me, laughter sparkling in his eyes. "What did you say?"

  I wrinkled my nose which had been squashed against his chest and repeated my words, "I can't breathe and I really need to pee."

  Real graceful, Charlotte. You get a second chance at taking back what you said that you shouldn't have but you just repeated it anyway.

  But Brandon just laughed and sat up, taking me with him.

  "Go, then. Don't let me hold you back," he teased, spanking me on the butt lightly as I moved to climb off the bed.

  He walked into the bathroom a few minutes later and we brushed our teeth together before he talked me into having breakfast first before we did anything else.

  He made decent pancakes and cooked up some bacon and eggs. We sat around the breakfast bar in our pajamas and spent a good half hour just eating, talking and watching the news on the small TV mounted on the wall that the kitchen island was attached to on one end.

  We took turns showering and got dressed. Brandon took care of my cuts again and re-bandaged them just before Felicity showed up with a to-do list longer than the train on my wedding gown.

  With just a day before the wedding, we had a lot to do. I was still tired and aching but the painkillers helped and sheer will propelled me forward. Brandon didn't look excited when I sat Felicity down and started to go over everything with her but he said nothing after I gave him a pointed look and just retreated into his office instead. Today was the first day of the time he took off work but that didn't mean he actually stopped working.

  An hour later, the penthouse started to get more traffic.

  The catering people came and set up a small buffet with Gilles managing the ins and outs of the different visitors and suppliers who came by.

  Aimee and Rose showed up. Aimee and I talked while Brandon, who poked his head out at the sound of Rose's giggles, took the girl out to the balcony to show her the view. Armina and Noli arrived next with some final details about my wedding gown, my honeymoon clothes and the scandalous trousseau I was taking with me as well. Then Shelly came next and she had a gazillion things to finalize with me about the wedding ceremony and reception details. She looked extraordinarily composed for someone who had two weeks to throw a small but grand wedding and if it weren't for hers and Felicity's organizing prowess, the wedding wouldn't be happening tomorrow at all.

  After they left, the rest of the Maxfields arrived for lunch. Anna came, looking in much better shape than when we saw each other last. She had a nasty bruise that was starting to go purple-yellow on her but she surprised me when she insisted herself that she was fulfilling her bridesmaid's duties and attending the wedding despite her injury. Given, she still looked beautiful despite the bruise, but the fact that Anna Maxfield, the girl known for never having a hair out of place, was showing up in public with her battle scars for my wedding meant a lot to me.

  Tessa, who seemed to have patched up with her sister, had tears in her eyes when she gave me a wordless hug and I understood everything she wanted to say to me.

  Jake arrived shortly after the Maxfields left, holding a big arrangement of pink-tipped yellow roses.

  "I left the car running too in case you decide to dump this loser guy and run off with me," he said with a wink as he leaned down to kiss me on the cheek.

  Brandon had emerged from his office at Jake's arrival and was now boring a hole into his best friend's head as he glared.

  I laughed and took the flowers, smelling them for a moment. "Thank you, Jake, but I'm afraid I can't run away with you. You see, Brandon would just shatter to pieces if I abandoned him. He can't live without me. Right, darling?"

  Brandon turned his scowl to me which only amused me more. I laughed again and leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. "Sheesh, Brandon. I'm just teasing. Get back to your work. Jake and I will just be out on the balcony catching up."

  "Do you know that he once dated four girls at the same time in junior high?" Brandon muttered, glancing at Jake who was grinning broadly. "He only got caught because he returned one girl's sweater to a different one."

  I gave Jake a look of mock-horror. "You're an unrepentant playboy, Jake Hastings. How could a girl ever trust you?"

  Jake shrugged. "They shouldn't because there's only one girl I care to convince to trust me and Brandon is just sabotaging it best he could."

  "That's because she's mine," Brandon growled at Jake.

  "Not officially until tomorrow," Jake countered with a shrug, glancing at his watch. "I have a little less than twelve hours to steal her away from you."

  I groaned, giving them both an exasperated smile and a shake of my head. "Good God! Will you two stop it? If you don't, I'll ditch you both and elope with someone else."

  Jake nodded, looping my arm through his and cocking his head smugly at Brandon.
"You heard her, Brand. Stop stewing about it. It's already bad enough that you have me to contend with. You don't need another man trying to steal her away as well."

  I smacked Jake on the arm with the back of my hand, wincing slightly at the pain. "You're such a troublemaker, you know that? Stop taunting Brandon."

  Jake rolled his eyes. "I can't. He's got the one thing I want."

  Brandon's eyes narrowed. "I have no problem tossing you out, Jake."

  "Don't worry about it, Brand," I said with a sigh, steering Jake toward the balcony before Brandon could lunge for his throat. "I'll toss him out myself if he doesn't behave. He'll discover why I'm nicknamed the Nutcracker at Marlow's."

  Jake actually looked horrified for a second and Brandon just barked out a laugh.

  "You're in for it now," Brandon told Jake, still chuckling as he went back to his office.

  I guess he felt confident that I'd now managed to completely turn Jake off.

  Jake's momentary look of horror didn't last long though. He broke out into a smile and just shook his head at me.

  "You're a handful, you know that?" he mused as we walked toward the balcony. "You're a petite and pretty package of pure mischief."

  I arched my brows at him. "Only old and boring people say that about the interesting ones, Jake, and you're neither so I don't know what you're talking about."

  We stepped out on the balcony but instead of heading for the sitting area, he walked me to one corner where we leaned against the railing and looked out to the majestic sprawl of skyscrapers and the bustling downtown.

  "I'm really glad to see you in better spirits, Char," Jake said, his tone serious this time. "I couldn't say much that night because Brandon was panicking enough for the both of us but I was so worried about you. I came yesterday morning but Brandon said you were still resting. I thought I'd stay away for a day and let you recuperate."

  I smiled at him. "Thanks, Jake, but as I've told Brandon, I'm fine. I'm banged up a bit but it could've been worse. In no time, I'll be back to a hundred percent."

  He pursed his lips as if deliberating whether to believe me or not. "You know, I agree with Brandon that you're the type to downplay your suffering. You should let people worry about you—someone's got to do it. You don't worry about your own self enough."

  "Because there's not a lot to worry about," I said with a shrug. "While I would love for all of my dreams to come true, life doesn't have to be super-peachy for me to say that things are going well. As long as I've got a roof over my head, food in my stomach, and a steady job to pay the bills, I'm fine."

  "I think you're going to get a little bit more than the basics marrying Brandon," Jake said dryly, smirking. "Are you ready to be Mrs. Brandon Maxfield?"

  I winced. "I feel like I don't remember where and when I auditioned for the role. I feel like someone just grabbed me and pushed me out on stage with a script they expect me to have memorized."

  Jake reached forward and squeezed my hand. "Knowing you, you're probably going to just improvise your way through the entire script and come out more interesting and amusing than anything original they could've written."

  We burst out laughing and I shook my head once our laughter subsided. "I don't know, Jake. It's kind of terrifying sometimes when it occurs to me exactly what I'm signing up for."

  Not because I'm afraid of being Mrs. Maxfield but because I'll be Brandon's wife and the man has bulldozed his own special spot in my heart where I want him to stay when we both know he wouldn’t.

  "You won't, by any chance, consider to be Mrs. Jake Hastings instead?" Jake asked teasingly.

  I giggled but when I glanced at him, I caught the flash of longing in his eyes and my stomach knotted. I suddenly felt like I just pushed someone on the street and they got hit by a speeding car.

  Crap. Brandon's right. He really does want you, Charlotte. How could you have not seen it?

  Maybe because my brain lately had been like overcooked spaghetti thanks to the crazy last two weeks of my life.

  My breath lodged somewhere in my throat as I struggled for something to say.

  In another time and life, Jake and I might have a chance. Even though he was also ridiculously rich and charming to women and would’ve never met me in a million years without Brandon’s connection, he was a great guy—funny, caring and good-natured. It took five seconds for me to like him after we were introduced. He wouldn't be as domineering or as infuriating as Brandon usually was and he might sincerely want me because he simply did and not because his father mandated him to.

  But Jake was Brandon's best friend. If he knew what a complete fool Brandon and I were making him out to be, he would hate me. Even if he didn't find out, he might still keep his distance once Brandon and I divorce after a year of marriage. It would just be awkward, after all.

  There was no hope for us now or in the future.

  Jake deserved better than a deceitful, money-hungry con artist who also happened to be obsessed with his best friend. It was better to let him down now so he could turn his attention to some other girl who actually deserved it.

  "Jake, I..."

  "Charlotte, don't," he said with a weak smile, his expression almost embarrassed as if he knew that I finally realized the truth.

  His green eyes were sad and it ripped at my heart. I clutched my hands into fists, fighting the frustration, and chewed on my bottom lip as I grasped for words that would never sufficiently say what I wanted to tell him.

  How in the world did this happen? How can you be marrying a guy who didn’t even want you in the first place while his best friend, on the other hand, just handed you his heart on a platter?

  It blew my mind that Jake felt this way about me. We've known each other a week and I'd belonged to Brandon in all that time.

  When I found out about Simone, I wondered whether Brandon and I were breaking hearts with this deception but I had always thought of it from his perspective considering I had no one laying out their heart on my feet. I never thought I’d be in a position to hurt someone like this.

  "Jake, I'm sorry," I choked out, tears stinging my eyes. "I thought you were just kidding all this time."

  Great, Charlotte. Best rejection line in the world. It belongs on a Hallmark card.

  Jake chuckled although I could tell that his heart wasn't in it. "I know. I didn't want to burden you with it. I shouldn't even be talking to you about this. You're marrying my best friend tomorrow, dammit. I should've just stayed away."

  His distress felt like lead weight in my stomach. "B-but I... I mean, how?"

  "How what?"

  "How can you feel this way about me?" I blurted out indelicately and I almost shoved a fist into my mouth.

  But Jake just smiled and shook his head. “You ask me that question and you wonder why. I’m not exactly sure, Charlotte. I have an idea but what good would it do to tell you now when you’re about to become someone’s wife in a matter of hours?”

  Because even though I’m about to sign my name next to another man on a marriage certificate, I’d like to know that no matter how much of a crock I am, the real thing is possible for me, no matter how distant that possibility is.

  It was unfair, I knew, to confront Jake with feelings he obviously didn’t want to have if he could’ve avoided them, but a part of me hungered for any indication that I could deserve something as humbling and beautiful as someone’s affection without doubting their motivation for it. With Brandon, the doubts that whatever we had could mean anything were as strong and as real as the feelings we were faking not to have but clearly couldn’t resist giving into.

  As Julia Roberts put it, I’m just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him why he loves me.

  Okay, so that line may not be cinematically accurate but it seemed close enough.

  I squeezed my eyes shut briefly, kneading the spot between my brows with my fingers. “You know what, Jake? You’re right. It will do no good to tell me now. You don’t have to. I’m sorry—”
<
br />   “Would you believe me if I told you I fell in love with you at first sight?” he asked with a loud sigh as if he was resigned to tell me the truth anyway. He looked away and gazed into the distance. “Would that make me sound really pathetic?”

  I shook my head silently.

  “I never thought it would happen to me, really, but I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you the first time I saw you come in through the door on the night of your engagement party. I didn’t even know who you were or notice that you came in on Brandon’s arm,” he said, his hand resting on the metal rail, gripping it tightly. “You looked like a night star in your sparkly dress and you had a beautiful smile on your face and there was mischief in your eyes and and you wore defiance like a crown, challenging anyone who would dare stand in your way. I felt quite light-headed then actually, as if someone spun me around for a while and I lost my bearings.”

  My heart squeezed painfully in my chest as I sucked in a breath and I knew that it had nothing to do with my injuries at all.

  Of all the things that could happen, this complication with Jake wasn’t one I’d counted on at all.

  He thought you looked like a night star. What on earth do you say to that?

  I gazed at Jake’s profile—he looked like a sun god with the golden hair, the sculpted planes of his face, the deep green eyes. It boggled my mind that he felt this way about me. It boggled my mind even more deciding what do to about it.

  He glanced at me and my face must’ve given something away because his expression softened and he smiled.

  “You look like you don’t hear this often,” he said.

  I rolled my eyes. “Of course, I don’t. Nobody goes around calling me a night star. I’m more like one of those neon glow sticks for ninety cents a piece—colorful, fun, cheap and resilient no matter how many drunk and party-crazed people toss it around or step on it on the floor filthy with all sorts of unidentifiable gunk.”