The Mischievous Mrs. Maxfield

by Ninya Tippett

  I'd stopped by him on the end seat he'd finally taken after pacing a patch on the floor, and gingerly touched his cheek.

  "Do you want anything to eat or drink?" I'd asked.

  He'd lifted his eyes to me and shook his head. "No, thanks."

  After dropping a kiss on his forehead, I headed downstairs with Jake, Mattie dashing right behind us.

  I glanced at the somber boy who was sitting on a table a few feet away, quietly sipping his chocolate milk while waiting for us to finish making coffee, and sighed.

  "I'll be okay," I said, turning back to Jake. "I'm not sure I can say the same for the Maxfield siblings."

  Jake looked in Mattie's direction and nodded. "They're made of sterner stuff despite their sheltered lives. They're all like their father in that way. They'll get through it."

  I nodded back. "We'll make sure they do. You, me and everyone else who is part of this family in some way. They're good people, Jake."

  "They are," he agreed as we finished making the last cup of coffee. "I've decided to postpone my trip to London. I'll stick around for as long as I'm needed."

  I smiled at him as we picked up the cups and the brown paper bag that contained the microwaved ham and cheese wraps we got from the deli counter. "Thank you, Jake. It means a lot to me and to them to have you around."

  I turned to Mattie who glanced our way before slipping off his seat. He held his chocolate milk carton in one hand and offered to carry the last coffee cup with his other.

  "How are you doing, buddy?" Jake asked the boy as we moved away from the coffee station.

  "I'm okay," Mattie answered with a quick nod. "I'm wondering if they'll let me bring my small electronic keyboard when I visit Dad. I play for him every day. I don't want him to miss a session."

  "I'm sure we can make it happen," I told Mattie and reassured him with a smile. "If Brandon has his way, Martin will have every luxury available to him. We can set up a piano concert if he wants one. We can invite the nurses and doctors to come and join us. I'll sing back up and wear one of those long dresses and a flower on my hair."

  A corner of Mattie's mouth twitched in amusement. "That's just silly. It's a hospital, Char."

  I caught Jake's smiling gaze and grinned at Mattie. "Hey, just saying that we can do it. I'm sure Martin will think it's fun. What do you say, Jake? Want to play the drums or something?"

  Jake cocked his head to one side and pressed a hand on his chest. "Well, I'm a ukulele man myself but I can probably pound on some drums if necessary."

  This time, Mattie's smile was full-blown. "And Anna and Tessa can sing back up with Charlotte!"

  I wiggled my brows excitedly. "And what will Brandon do?"

  Mattie furrowed his brows in thought, taking his time deciding as we got into the elevator. "Well... He can sit and watch and look serious—like those theater bosses who sponsored the arts during the renaissance. He'll be the rich financier who falls madly in love with a beautiful but down-on-her luck back-up singer who makes him smile and laugh!"

  Jake and I exchanged glances. Mattie was such a bizarre kid sometimes. This young boy was seriously too old and too romantically creative for his age but at least he snapped out of his somber mood.

  I winked at him. "I think Brandon can manage looking like a stern, all-important businessman."

  Jake chuckled. "Well, he'll portray himself so that won't be any hardship."

  "Since Jake can’t be the drummer, he can be the rakish debonair who flirts with all the female singers and dancers instead," I added, jabbing the man on his side playfully.

  Mattie nodded earnestly, completely caught up in the fantasy now. "And he will fall in love with a sweet, beautiful girl with pale gold hair and big, blue eyes."

  I eyed Jake suspiciously. "Oh, really? Does this sweet, beautiful girl happen to be named Felicity?"

  Jake's eyes bulged as he choked on his coffee. His gaze narrowed at me. “No. I’m not interested in your assistant, Char.”

  “You’re not?” I asked casually, glancing up at the ceiling in mock-innocence. “Because that’s really too bad, Jake. Felicity is an amazing girl—beautiful, intelligent, super-sweet.”

  His expression tightened. “I’m sure she is, if you say so. I haven’t really spoken much to her personally and I don’t intend to.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Why not? She would be perfect for you. What do you think, Mattie? Isn’t Felicity just an awesome girl?”

  The boy nodded. “If I was old enough, I’d marry her.”

  I grinned triumphantly at Jake. “See? Mattie has exceptional taste. You can’t get a more glowing recommendation than that.”

  Jake held my gaze for a long moment, his jaw clenched tight.

  The elevator door opened and Mattie stepped out. Jake stayed behind for a moment and I paused on my way out to wait for him.

  He said nothing as he slowly stepped out of the elevator and I lagged back to keep pace with him while Mattie was already a few feet ahead of us.

  “Jake?” I prompted uncertainly, aware that there was nothing teasing or playful about his mood anymore.

  He sighed. “I get that you feel terrible and want me to be happy, Char, but I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t force me in a certain direction. You can’t just grab the first girl you think will match up well with me and drop her in your place. It stings a little bit.”

  “Oh,” was all I managed to say as my heart dropped at his words.

  Our conversation in the last two minutes did a rewind in my head and I saw where I could’ve kept my mouth shut.

  If I were in his place, I wouldn’t really like being handed a runner-up because I couldn’t have Brandon. While I would appreciate the thought, I would rather be left alone to lick my wounds.

  I bit my lip, lowering my head. “I’m sorry, Jake. I didn’t really think.”

  He smiled weakly. “It’s alright. I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have gotten grumpy. You’re just doing what you always seem to do best—try to make everyone happy.”

  I made a face. “Apparently, I suck at it.”

  “No, you don’t,” he said with a soft laugh. “I’m just...”

  I glanced at him, waiting for his next words nervously.

  He bumped me gently on the arm as we walked, rounding the corner to the last hall that led to the ICU’s waiting room. “It’s just been a rough night for me, Char.”

  “I know,” I said softly. “The fact that you’re here when you probably want to be long gone by now is proof of how good a person you are, Jake, which makes me feel even worse because I can’t make you happy the way you deserve to be.”

  He raised a brow meaningfully. “If I’m only there for those who constantly make me happy, that doesn’t really make me a good person now, does it? I’m just merely returning the favor.”

  I opened my mouth to answer but Francis suddenly popped up from around the corner, nearly colliding with us.

  His eyes narrowed at us. “Well, you two sure look cozy. Does Brandon share nowadays, Jake?”

  “I would shut your mouth if I were you, Francis,” Jake growled next to me.

  “Why? Afraid of the big, bad Brandon?” Francis retorted, an unpleasant smile curling on his handsome face. “All these years and you’re still happily following him around like a loyal dog.”

  I was honestly too stunned for a moment that I didn’t react at first as Francis’s taunts registered.

  “That didn’t take long,” I blurted out, narrowing my eyes at the man. “Less than twenty-four hours and I’m quickly discovering my own reasons for not liking you.”

  He scoffed at me. “What makes you think I care about you think, Charlotte? Aren’t gold-digging trophy wives supposed to just sit pretty and stay mute nowadays?”

  I thrust my chin up defiantly. “Aren’t rambling idiots supposed to shut up before they dig themselves a deeper hole when they can barely climb out of the one they’re already in?”

  Francis’s eyes narrowed into slits but bef
ore any of us could say anything more, a rush of raised voices came down the hallway behind him.

  “Brand, don’t.” Tessa sounded frantic as Brandon stormed in behind his cousin, his face contorted with anger.

  My heart started pounding hard. I've never seen Brandon this furious. He looked like he was going to tear Francis into pieces and eat him for lunch.

  “Don’t you dare walk away like a coward, Francis!” he bellowed. His sisters were clustered around him, grabbing each of his arms as they tried to haul him back.

  Mattie, who’d gone on ahead of us and followed back out the throng of his older siblings who had obviously marched after their cousin down the hall, jumped out of his brother’s way, his eyes large and alarmed.

  “I will walk away if I want to, Brand,” Francis sneered, turning around to face Brandon. “I don’t have to listen to your baseless accusations. I forget that you’re always more than happy to pin the blame on me but if you think I’m just going to keep putting up with it, you’re wrong.”

  I glanced at Jake, who was now scowling deeply, and at the sisters who now looked stricken. The hostility between the two cousins was palpable in the air—if I’d walked straight into it, it would hit me in the face and leave a bruise.

  “What the hell is going on here?” I demanded.

  Both men ignored me.

  “Of course it’s never your fault, Frans!” Brandon shot back. “Every time something goes wrong, it’s always someone else responsible for it. It’s only your responsibility if it’s convenient to you and it serves your purpose—it doesn’t matter who gets hurt in the process.”

  Francis’s face darkened furiously. “You’re getting carried away again with your preaching, Brand, which you have no right to give considering what a hypocrite you are. You’re just as bad as you accuse me to be and you know it.”

  My eyes widened at those words and Brandon anger was boiling off of him he could’ve run a steam engine with it.

  “I don’t think so,” Brandon said slowly and menacingly, advancing toward Francis despite his sisters’ hold. “I will never be as vile as you are, wondering out loud what to do next to the company as if my father was already a cold, dead slab of meat just waiting to be disposed of.”

  I sucked in a breath, my own anger blazing through me. My hands clenched so tightly around the coffee cups, I was surprised they didn’t collapse and spill all over my hands.

  “Are you for real?” I hissed at Francis. “At a time like this, that’s what you’re concerned about?”

  He gave me a snide smile. “Aren’t you concerned about the same thing, Charlotte? With Martin dead, your husband’s likely to gain more money and power. Wasn’t that the whole point of why you married him?”

  You son of a bitch.

  As I was about to launch myself at him, red flickering across my vision, Brandon’s feral growl caught me off guard and I watched in horror as my husband charged forward, tackling his cousin with a shoulder to the chest, throwing them both down on the floor.

  “Shit.”

  Jake’s muttered curse barely registered as he crouched down to set the coffee cups he’d been holding on the floor and rushed over to the two men brawling in the hospital lobby.

  “Brandon! Francis! Stop it!” Anna’s pleaded hysterically. "What the hell is wrong with you two?"

  Tessa pulled Mattie close to her side to keep him out of the fray while Jake’s arm shot out to keep Anna from throwing herself into the mix as her brother and cousin rolled around the floor, trying to get as much fist into the other’s face as possible.

  “Don’t you ever dare speak a crude word to my wife, you ass!” Brandon spewed, grabbing Francis by the collar and fiercely jabbing him on the jaw.

  This can't be happening. Brandon is pummelling his scum of a cousin into the hospital floor until he becomes fossilized in it, hours after our wedding and with his father in critical condition. Can this night get any crazier?

  Apparently, it could because without being really conscious of it as my feet moved, I found myself pouring the now-tepid coffee over both of their heads.

  That stilled them.

  “Charlotte, what the hell?” Brandon demanded, blinking rapidly at me through the brown liquid dripping down the side of his face.

  Francis sputtered and raised his head, shaking as much coffee as he could off himself.

  “As much as I would love to flatten Francis into a permanent floor fixture, this is not the time and place to do it!” I grated, glaring at both of them. “Martin needs us here and I’ll be damned if I’m going to have to spend the next few hours bailing you out of jail.”

  Jake gently took my arm to lead me away but I shook free from him.

  I planted my fists on my waist and stared down the two cousins. “Now, be big boys and pick yourselves up the floor before I wipe it clean with your asses.”

  Francis glowered at me. “You’re so much prettier when you don’t open your mouth, Charlotte.”

  Francis has a death wish. Brandon is going to kill him before this day is done.

  Brandon’s eyes closed briefly before they opened again, flashing me a look of remorse.

  “Sorry, baby, but I’m not going to let that comment pass,” he muttered before he turned to Francis and slugged him in the face again.

  Francis fought back and I had no choice but to step back as the two stumbled along the floor again, trying to get at each other’s throats.

  Jake groaned and dived in, trying to pull Brandon away from his cousin.

  Thirty seconds later, the hospital lobby was full of staff and other people trying to break up the fight.

  I closed my eyes and swore softly.

  I knew I wasn’t going to have a typical wedding night. I just had no clue it would turn out this way.

  I grimaced at the sight of Brandon’s busted lip and the bruises on his jaw. My heart twisted but I reined my emotions in.

  If he kept this up, I’d be a young widow in no time.

  ***

  “Don’t be such a baby!”

  “Charlotte, I’m tired, I’m hungry, I’m sticky with coffee, my father just came out of a bypass surgery and I still smell like the jail cell I sat in for two hours.”

  I winced at Brandon’s incensed reply which only worsened my pounding headache.

  “Uh-huh,” I said on my cell phone as I rode up the elevator to Brandon’s penthouse. “That’s what happens when you insist on beating Francis into a pulp and the hospital staff calls the cops on you. Unfortunately for you, your Dad had to go into surgery just then so we all got a little busy. I forgot to call your lawyer right away."

  “You forgot?” Brandon repeated in disbelief. “You forgot after you promised you’d call Bill right right away as the police was carting me off in the back of their car? I waited for an hour thinking he was coming any minute considering the exorbitant amount of money I pay him and my entire legal team. When he still didn’t show, I called him and was dumbfounded to learn that he was still snoring away because he had no idea I was incarcerated.”

  I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Brand, it’s two hours. You made it out of there before your father came out of surgery. You were driven away from your short stint as a hardened criminal in the cushy backseat of your luxury car. Yes, you’re tired, hungry, a little smelly and filthy. Life isn’t perfect. You had the money to bail yourself out of jail after a mere two hours of inconvenience, your father’s alive and on his way to recuperating and your wife isn’t about to kill you yet despite how foolishly you acted this morning. You’re lounging about in Martin’s five-star hotel-like hospital suite where I’ll meet you in half an hour with fresh clothes so you can shower, and a king’s meal to stuff down your throat. Stop complaining and count your blessings.”

  I heard his agitated exhalation. He sounded like he was gritting his teeth before replying.

  “But you weren’t here when I got back,” he complained.

  I couldn’t help but smile as the elevator opened
to the private foyer of the penthouse.

  Since Martin came out of surgery and both Brandon and Francis, from each of their separate cells, decided not to press any charges against each other, I'd been able to relax again.

  “Of course, I’m not. Knowing how much you want to wring my neck right now, I thought I’d give you some time to cool off before I show my face with some peace offering.”

  I pressed the fob Gilles gave me on my way up after he drove me from the hospital for a key-less entry to the condo. I called him and Felicity around seven-thirty when I felt that it was as decent an hour as I could find to alert them of the situation with Martin and Brandon’s arrest. Apparently, they’d already heard and were on their way because the cousins’ scuffle in the hospital was already all over the local morning news.

  The paps were already camped outside the hospital when I left and Jake had arranged to beef up the Maxfields’ security.

  "Half hour, okay?" Brandon said with a resigned sigh. "If you're not here then, I'll come and get you."

  I snorted as I went into the condo and headed toward our bedroom—er, I meant Brandon's bedroom where I just happened to be sleeping in the last few days until I felt well enough to stay in my own.

  You're so full of crap, Charlotte. Admit it, you want to keep sharing Brandon's bed. If you can affix yourself to the furniture, you would.

  "You never warned me you were going to be such a needy husband," I teased, smirking.

  "If I've become one, it's all your fault," Brandon replied sulkily. Really, he sounded like a six-year-old but the fact that I knew he knew exactly how he was acting and hated it endeared him to me a little more. “How did you get in anyway? I’m yet to give you your keys. I was going to give them to you today.”

  “Gilles,” I answered. “Perks of having my own bodyguard-slash-chauffeur. And Winnie remembers me, of course.”