The Mischievous Mrs. Maxfield

by Ninya Tippett

  I probably developed a condition with my tear ducts because I couldn’t stop the damned tears as I hugged Anna back just before Tessa threw her arms around the both of us.

  That had the unfortunate domino effect of prompting the entire guest list of about fifty or so people to swarm us with greetings and hugs.

  You never realize just how much guilt weighs you down until it comes off and you start soaring.

  “We might have overwhelmed you a little bit,” Jake said with a sheepish smile as he pulled me in for a hug that lifted me off my feet. “But the look on your face was so worth it. Happy birthday, Charlotte!”

  I smacked him lightly on the arm once he’d set me down. “I can’t believe I fell for your trick! You sounded so desperate!”

  Jake put a hand over his heart dramatically. “I am desperate. I still need that advice. But we’ll do that later after you’ve had a proper celebration. DJ! Start the music!”

  “First dance is with me,” Brandon said possessively as he stepped in and reclaimed his hold on me which he’d reluctantly relinquished after fifty or so people descended on us earlier. “The first and last dance will always be with me.”

  “You’re just as sneaky as your old man,” I told Brandon with a grin, sliding my arms around his shoulders just as a slow dance song threaded over the fading, highly upbeat Happy-Birthday music.

  I caught Martin smiling at us from his seat by the bar and I gave him a little wave. He lifted his glass in toast and grinned before tossing back his drink.

  “We, Maxfield men, can be pretty creative when it comes to getting what we want,” Brandon said smoothly as he gently swung me over to the music. “Sometimes, it involves blackmail, complicated arranged marriages of convenience—you know, the usual.”

  I cocked a brow teasingly. “I would never think you’d have to stoop to tricks to get what you want. Don’t you just snap your fingers and people scramble to do your bidding?”

  Brandon gave an exaggerated sigh of exasperation. “It used to be that easy. Apparently, the moment you came into our lives, we had to resort to tricks. Dad had to blackmail me. I had to bind you to me in a million-dollar ruse to pretend we were married for a year in order to avoid being married for real, even though I somehow must’ve actually wanted it to be real and just didn’t know it then.”

  I laughed, my nose scrunching up. “That was the most confusing counter-strategy, if I’ve ever heard one.”

  “Yeah, well. What can I say?” Brandon said with a shrug. “I was prepared to battle but I promptly fell in love with my enemy instead.”

  “You know what they say,” I murmured as I pressed up against him, tilting my head up until my nose grazed his chin. “Make love, not war.”

  Brandon’s arms tightened around me as he dipped his head low to kiss me slowly. “I want to make love to you all the time.”

  I smiled cheekily. “It’s too bad you have this day job of running an empire. It really gets in the way of non-stop, all-day sex.”

  A low, rich laugh escaped Brandon. “And to think people resent me for having such a plum job. They have no idea how sex-starved I am because of it.”

  “Don’t worry, darling,” I told him with a firm pat on his shoulder. “We’ll make do with the nights. You can ravish me then.”

  Even though we were just naughtily murmuring to each other as we danced, there was no mistaking the flash of heat in Brandon’s eyes.

  “Speaking of nights and ravishment, I have a surprise for you later,” he told me in a low voice that hinted at all kinds of possibilities. “I have something to show you after the party.”

  My eyes widened. “I can’t believe you’re telling me that now. Am I suppose to wait in tortured suspense for hours?”

  “Have patience, love,” Brandon teased, slightly nipping at my tip of my nose. “For now, enjoy your party. People who adore you all came together for this—people you thought you lost.”

  I sniffed. “I know.”

  He lifted my hand to his lips and brushed a light kiss on the back of it. “It’s your birthday but I’m probably the happiest person about it. Twenty years ago, on this day, you were born. I had no idea who you were or what you were going to mean to me. Now that I’ve found you, I have my eternal gratitude to whoever lined up the stars or moved the hands of destiny, or whatever mechanism the universe has in arranging fates, because if not for that one miracle, I wouldn’t know that I can be this happy.”

  My chin trembled at the threat of tears about to spill down my cheeks but I sucked in my lower lip in an effort at restraint.

  Brandon had never really been a man of a particularly expressive nature, and his family and friends would support that statement, but when he did tell me things, they were always quite devastating to my heart.

  For someone who never really had a chance to find out what she meant to the people she was supposed to matter to, it's quite something to know she meant happiness to a man who already possessed every means to be happy.

  I suddenly had more than enough reason to celebrate a day I only ever used as a bookmark of my passing years.

  So in the hours that followed, with a sparkly plastic tiara propped clumsily on my head, a hot pink feather boa slung over my shoulders, a fruity mocktail in my hand, and a dozen or so kiss prints on my face sticky with candy-scented lip gloss, I cried, laughed, danced and cried some more as I celebrated the first actual happy birthday I’ve had in twenty years.

  Surrounded by family and friends I thought I’d lost, held steady on my feet by the strong arms of a man who couldn’t stop smiling every time our eyes met, I felt like I was floating on an effervescent dream.

  ***

  Marlow’s wasn’t really a place people booked parties and events at but it seemed to have been magically transformed as people ate, talked, danced and even played games on the vintage arcade machines Felicity had rented.

  When I’d asked who masterminded the entire event, no one would admit to it directly. Brandon, Jake, Anna, Tessa and Felicity kept pointing fingers at each other that I eventually gave up. It was a group effort by people who actually really knew and understood me.

  Other than picking out Marlow’s for the venue, serving my favorite food and having my favorite local band play (the same band at our wedding) in a make-shift stage, they also made sure to invite the kids along—Mattie, Rose and Zach were all there.

  Which was why I’d discreetly asked Gilles to sneak out for a bit, after I’d shoved a plate full of food to his face first, of course, and see if he could convince Riley to attend. He would call me when he got there so I could talk to the boy. He may be an old soul but he was a kid. He deserved every opportunity to be a child and enjoy life a little.

  I’d just seen Gilles off when I walked back toward Marlow’s and saw an unexpected person nervously hovering by the entrance.

  “Jason?” I asked, recognizing the tall, lanky, still-married architect Anna was involved with. “What are you doing here?”

  He seemed quite surprised to see me. He fell silent for a moment before giving me an abashed smile as he scratched the back of his ear like a boy caught red-handed with his hand in the cookie jar. Well, make that two cookie jars in his case.

  “Hi, um... I know it’s rude of me to crash your party but I was... well, you see I, uh...” He glanced down at his feet as his voice trailed off, an awkward silence taking over his stammering.

  “You’re not going to find a tele-prompter on the ground,” I said dryly, drawing his attention back up to me. “You should’ve brought flash cards instead. Or cheat sheets.”

  I inwardly winced at my pun while he outwardly grimaced.

  I wasn’t really sure what to make of Jason Reid.

  He was a good-looking guy—ash blonde, light, coffee brown eyes, an almost intellectual look to him.

  I didn’t know him very well except for what I knew of him from Anna. Unfortunately, what I did know wouldn’t recommend him much.

  He was married to a wife he
couldn’t leave while stringing along Anna who both loved and loathed him.

  The fact that he was cheating on his wife alone wouldn’t get him a ringing endorsement from me. Even though I’d kept my opinion of the situation mostly to myself, I wasn’t going to hold back if he was here to hear it.

  “You don’t like me,” he stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

  I arched a brow. “Do you like yourself?”

  It was a simple question but from the way his eyes cleared with understanding, he heard the words I didn’t have to say.

  He actually smiled faintly as he jammed his hands into his jeans’ pockets. “Not very much these days, no. It’s hard to like a total ass.”

  “Then why keep him around?” I asked, mildly amused.

  He earned a sliver of my respect when he met my eyes directly. “Sometimes, you don’t quite realize you’re in bad company until you’re in too deep. It makes getting out a little bit harder.”

  I actually smiled a little. “I always say, if you’re going to dig your own grave, make it shallow.”

  “Or don’t dig one at all,” he said sardonically.

  I felt a pang of sympathy. I knew how it was to be in a hell of my own making. “I don’t think anyone plans on it in the beginning.”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone, I promise,” he said in a mocking voice, his mouth twisting in derision, more like the self-directed kind. “Yeah, I’ve tried that excuse before and it’s honestly the most God-awful thing one can say in self-defense.”

  I couldn’t help the ironic laugh that bubbled out of me.

  He hit the nail right on the head—even on his own coffin.

  I motioned to the weathered wood and iron bench that was just by Marlow’s door, sandwiched between two large concrete planters still full of flowers turning dry and brown.

  Jason almost looked relieved as he took a seat next to me, his shoulders slumping a little. “You have no reason to trust me or let me see her. If I were a better man, I would leave her alone but...”

  “If our lives were only to be judged by our past mistakes, we’d be a sorry lot—all of us,” I told him with a pained smile, pulling an old advice from a faraway memory. “The neat thing about time, in the common human experience anyway, is that it moves in a forward direction. While the past steers us a certain way, it’s how we keep correcting our course that will take us wherever we want to go.”

  Jason’s expression was that of a man holding a dagger to his own heart, suffering with every twist of the blade yet unable to pull the damned thing out.

  “It’s not for me to say what you should do about your situation,” I told him gently. “At the end of the day, it’s your decision to make.”

  I paused and leveled my gaze at him so he wouldn’t miss my meaning. “Because you do have to make a decision, Jason. You will hurt them with a choice, but you will hurt them more without one.”

  He swallowed hard and nodded ever so slightly. “I know.”

  It took only a moment to see the guilt and suffering show plainly on Jason’s face. While in my heart, I knew he was responsible for a lot of it, I couldn’t resent him any more than I could resent myself for doing something I knew I should never have and rendering myself at the mercy of my own guilty conscience.

  It was a slow, agonizing kind of torture I recognized too easily.

  My heart hurt—for the flawlessly beautiful sister I dearly loved despite her inner flaws, the other woman in this equation who might or might not already be suffering through a betrayal no one deserved, and for the man I hardly knew except for the haunted look in his eyes that told me more than words could ever say.

  Pain was as contagious as happiness—just like a numbing cold could seep into your bones as deeply as the warmth of a sunny day that chased away the chill in your soul.

  I was given a second chance today. Who am I to deny someone their turn at it?

  I patted him on the arm, flashing a smile. “Come on, join us inside. I can’t promise she’d talk to you but I can promise food—lots of it.”

  Jason hesitated even though he looked quite desperately hopeful at my invitation. “Are you sure? Anna’s not the only one who hates me right now.”

  I grinned and stood up. “I can’t vouch that I’ll be able to hold back every member of the Maxfield family, especially my husband, but if you’ve already come this far, you might as well cross the door and get it over with.”

  “I want to make it right this time around,” Jason said solemnly as he slowly rose. “There is no pleasant or convenient way out of this but that’s the truth about betrayal, isn’t it? It’s ugly and hurtful and shameful but it can end.”

  I wrinkled my nose at the raw memories that fleetingly scraped at me. “Yes, it can. Confront the monster and have it out so you can put it to rest rather than letting the lies build a larger, more fragile illusion that will come crashing down on all your heads.”

  Jason’s gaze narrowed at me slightly in thought. “You sound like you know how it’s like.”

  I managed a bittersweet smile. “My mother walked out on me and my Dad when I was six, without a word or a backward glance. Years later, I found out on my own that she has a new family, a new daughter, who was about the right age to have been born right around the time she disappeared on us.”

  While I didn't always volunteer the past at every opportunity I get, I didn't hide it when it needed to be said. Why bother? It wasn't going to change what had already happened. Besides, my secret wasn't anywhere near as damaging as Jason's.

  “I’m sorry, Charlotte,” he murmured softly, his brown eyes anguished.

  “I would’ve preferred the harsh truth to the years of endless questions,” I told him with a casual shrug even as I felt the sting that forever lingered. “I’d rather a quick stab to the heart than a slow, agonizing death, but then, that’s just me.”

  I grinned at his horrified expression, brightening up. “Hey, it’s a cautionary tale—not an instruction manual.”

  Reluctantly, he smiled back. “Alright. I’ll brave it and enter a den packed full of protective Maxfields.”

  I snorted. “It’s about time you showed some balls—metaphorically speaking, of course.”

  Jason choked on a laugh as he held the door open for me. “Let’s hope they don’t go straight for them—literally speaking.”

  The party was still in full swing when we came back in. We stood by the doorway to survey the crowd until Jason picked out Anna who had no trouble standing out.

  “There’s no training wheels from here on then so best of luck to you, bud,” I told him with a firm smack on his back before I turned around and walked away.

  Sweeping a quick glance around, I spotted Brandon and Martin in a corner, shooting hoops with the children at one of those basketball arcade games. The men were engrossed in conversation even as they took turns helping Mattie, Rose and Zach shoot balls through the hoop.

  Both men wore relaxed, smiling expressions and I felt a surge of relief that there seemed to be no notable damage to the relationship between father and son despite the wide berth they gave each other in the past couple of weeks.

  I left them to catch up further and headed for the bar.

  I had just asked Jenny for another fizzy drink when Tessa appeared by my elbow.

  Her brows were drawn in with disapproval, her lips pursed in a frown. “Is my eyesight going or was that Jason Reid who just walked in with you?”

  “I didn’t check for ID but I’m pretty sure that was him,” I told her with a smile as I hoisted myself up on a stool and happily accepted the pale blue mocktail Jenny handed me. I surveyed the crowd and found Jason talking to Anna at a corner booth, out of earshot from the other guests. “The sulky look on Anna’s face confirms it.”

  “What is he doing here?” Tessa demanded in a hushed tone that concealed none of her outrage. “I went through the guest list and he was nowhere on it.”

  “I’m sure he wasn’t,” I answered calmly. “I
saw him outside with his nose practically pressed against the window like a hungry kid watching people having fancy dinner.”

  Tessa scowled. “While I usually admire your charitable nature, Char, this particular recipient of it is a cheating, lying bastard who shouldn’t be anywhere near Anna. He’s hurt her from day one and he’s going to keep doing it.”

  I understood Tessa’s anger. I truly did.

  “I’m not sending them off to elope or anything like that, Tess,” I said in a placating tone. “It’s a conversation—one that’ll hopefully bring this whole episode with Anna to a close.”

  Tessa’s eyes widened. “You think he’s here to break up with her for good?”

  I shrugged. “Or fight for her this time around. Who knows? Either way, he needs to conclude this once and for all.”

  Tessa fell into a thoughtful silence as she sat next to me at the bar and watched Jason and her sister. “Even if he chooses Anna, how do you know he can be trusted to stay faithful to her when he obviously failed at that with his wife?”

  “I don’t know that,” I answered quietly, stirring my drink with the short straw. “I can’t really say for sure that a person who’d done one wrong is forever wired to do it over and over again, or that someone who’d made one mistake after another can’t just clean up his act one day and start living right.”

  “Then how do we know who we can trust?” Tessa asked softly, cautiously.

  I glanced at her in the corner of my eye and saw that her gaze was no longer narrowed at Anna and Jason but at the tall, blonde, grinning man who stood by one of the tables, talking to Bobby and a couple of girls, Macy and Becca, who worked for Marlow’s.

  His animated expression and hand gestures told me he was having a good time in the conversation but I was certain that while he may not be oblivious to the adoring looks the girls were casting his way, he wasn’t encouraging them either.

  But to Tessa, the sight was probably like tossing fuel to the fire.