The Mischievous Mrs. Maxfield

by Ninya Tippett

He looked up at me, his hazel eyes smoldering with the firelight and an equally fiery look of lust as he kept still, watching me slowly slide off my boots.

  He was still crouched down on his knees but it didn’t stop him from running his hands up my bare legs, his fingers leaving a heated trail against my skin.

  I heard his breath hitch as I eased my tight dress up and over my head, tossing it to the floor next to the sweater and shirt that I didn’t even see Brandon discard.

  He rose to his feet, pulling me close to him, the large, solid frame of his body surrounding me with warmth.

  Dropping a kiss on my shoulder, his hands found the clasp of my lacy bra and deftly unhooked it.

  His need pressed boldly through his jeans and with my own fumbling hands, I freed him, letting the hot, velvet feel of him brand the skin on my stomach.

  I sucked in my breath the moment his fingers strummed across my hardened nipples as he slowly slid my bra down my shoulders and off my arms.

  “Love me here, tonight?” My raspy whisper sounded like a plea but I was past the point of dignity. I ached in all the empty places I needed Brandon to fill and burned where his skin scorched mine.

  A soft smile ghosted across his lips as his large, warm hands settled on the flare of my hips. “I’ll love you here, tonight—everywhere, anywhere, forever.”

  It was, truly, the best birthday I’ve ever had.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine: Damn the Devil

  “Drink number eight now, isn't it?” I asked as Jake swiped another glass of wine from a passing server’s tray. “Do you want us to just hook you up to the bar through an IV and save yourself the trouble of getting more?”

  Jake sent me a quick glare as he downed the wine in one gulp. “It’s not funny, Charlotte.”

  “No, it’s not, yet here you are, making a joke of yourself,” I muttered as I plucked the empty glass from his hand and handed it to another passing server, yanking Jake away before he could grab another drink.

  It was the evening of the Arts Appreciation dinner and the entire Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum was nearly incandescent with soft, glowing light, and packed full of incredible art pieces and some of the country’s most fashionable patrons.

  It was turning out to be a huge success in terms of money raised and art pieces being sold off like they were hotcakes but under the shiny, sparkling surface, trouble brewed.

  It started with Layla’s appearance and her tight-lipped behaviour throughout most of the night. She barely spoke to me or looked my way and I had a nagging suspicion it had something to do with the grim-looking Don LeClaire stuck to her side like an ugly, painful wart. Her face didn’t look twice its size anymore and if there were any traces of her injury, her make up artist and stylist hid them well especially with some frilly fascinator nearly hanging down one side of her face. Something was definitely keeping her from reaching out to me and for Riley’s sake, I intended to find out why as soon as I found a chance. I didn’t want to confront her out of the blue and send her scurrying even farther away.

  Then there was Nicole’s first foray into the public eye. Brandon and I had been taking turns in taking her around and introducing her to people as a distant part of the Maxfield clan. Francis turned up and kept some distance even though his eyes followed Nicole everywhere she went.

  Despite their heartwarming family reunion on my birthday, we didn’t fully trust Francis quite yet to leave Nicole completely to his care. To his credit though, he neither threw tantrums nor sent snide comments our way—baby steps, even though he was a few years too late.

  Finally, there was Jake who arrived in a very good mood, smiling, laughing and greeting everyone with his usual easy charm—until Tessa showed up with a date, whom she introduced to us, right in front of a gaping Jake. His name was Michael and he was a law student attending Yale. He was quite attractive in a preppy way, and while he lacked Jake’s flirty, fun flair, he was certainly friendly enough that no one could hate him on the spot, even Brandon, the ever-protective older brother.

  Since then, Jake’s evening, and mine by extension because I was still really the only one who knew about him and Tessa, started going downhill.

  “You don’t think I know that?” Jake grumbled as he continued to glare in the direction of Tessa and her date. “I feel pathetic but there’s no helping it, is there?”

  I sighed, sympathetic to Jake’s suffering. “Looking like you’re contemplating ways to dismember her date isn’t going to warm you up to Tessa, you know?”

  “I’ve known her all her entire twenty years—what else does she need to warm up to me?” Jake’s words were hushed but they were heavy with resentment, which was very uncharacteristic of him. “I’ve had the logical conversation with her and the romantic one. I’ve stopped chasing skirts, not that anything or anyone else has interested me lately. I’ve been a goddamned saint so much that I’m now stacking up halos on my head.”

  It wasn’t nice to be amused with Jake’s dilemma so I stamped down on the giggle that nearly burst out of me at his speech.

  “Maybe you’re trying too hard,” I said gently. “As you’ve pointed out, Tessa has known you all her life and seeing you act so differently from how you always have is probably more disconcerting to her than it is reassuring. She knows you’re not a saint, Jake, and if you try to convince her that you are, she’s not going to believe you, or anything else you say for that matter.”

  “Then how the hell is she supposed to know that I can change?” he demanded impatiently. Good thing we were tucked away in a less crowded corner because even if they couldn’t hear Jake’s quickly fraying temper, they’d be able to feel it.

  “I know there’s a very fine line—one that people ignore or miss—but there’s one between changing some of your ways and changing who you are,” I said.

  He ran a shaky hand through his hair, which had lost its polished style over an hour ago, and exhaled sharply. “I’m just so run-down by this now, Char. She and I had the talk after your birthday, you know? I convinced her to let me drive her home. We talked in the car outside of her apartment because she wouldn’t let me walk her up to her door like a gentleman’s supposed to.”

  “And?” I prompted on baited breath.

  “And I told her that I might possibly be in love with her.” His entire sentence came out in a rush of breath and he softly groaned and ran a hand down his face. “I told her that while I’ve thought myself in love before, it hasn’t felt this raw or desperate. She looked at me like I killed a bunch of newborn puppies and walked out.”

  I would too if you implied that this wasn’t the first time you thought yourself in love. So much for convincing her that you want her for the right reasons and not just because you’re in love with being in love.

  “I quickly realized how I must’ve sounded to her so I jumped out and ran after her and stopped her from getting inside,” Jake continued, his suffering looking more acute. “And I kissed her wildly and told her I wanted to be with her. And just like the last time, we stumbled into her bed again and made love. There were no hysterics when we got up in the morning and made breakfast together. She gave me a nice, long kiss before sending me on my way. I thought things were going to be fine after that. I was thinking tonight I was going to maybe talk to Brandon about Tessa so things wouldn’t be too weird but what happens instead? She shows up with a freakin’ date!”

  Jake had a few drinks too many but it wasn’t the alcohol that had loosened his mouth but strung him up inside.

  He was hurting.

  I didn’t have answers to why Tessa came with a date. I could speculate that maybe her own feelings and the trust Jake was starting to win from her despite her reluctance forced her to flee and fling herself behind a man she could wedge between them to keep the gap from closing. Or maybe she just realized that she didn’t want the same thing Jake wanted and decided that the best way to drop someone was to drop them like a hot potato, no matter the splendid mess it made.

  “You’r
e right. I’m making a sad, pathetic joke out of myself,” he finally said with an abrupt shake of his head. “I think I should go.”

  I wasn’t going to argue with him. As much as I’d like for him to stay and enjoy the party, I didn’t want him around the person he was twisting the knife in his heart for.

  “Come on, I’ll walk you out and we’ll wait for your driver to come get you,” I told him as I looped my arm through his and yanked his cellphone out of his dinner jacket’s pocket before he could protest.

  “What’s his name?” I asked as I scrolled through the contacts list.

  “Terry,” Jake muttered, making lame attempts at civility when some people glanced our way as we walked past and greeted him.

  I held his phone to my ear as it rang while smiling broadly at everyone who nodded and waved hi at me, hoping that I was doing enough to appease those who were getting death stares from Jake.

  “Hey, Terry. It’s Charlotte,” I told the driver when he came on the other line. “Jake’s calling it a night. Can you come pick him up, please?”

  “I’ll just take a cab,” Jake gritted out but I shut him up with a look.

  “We’ll be waiting outside, right where you dropped him off earlier, okay? Thanks, Terry!”

  I caught sight of Brandon frowning in our direction as he stood in a small huddle of other guests including Martin, but I flashed him a reassuring smile and nearly shoved Jake out of view from everyone.

  The cloisters, which surrounded the majestic courtyard, was the main event venue, but to get to the entrance, which was at their newly constructed wing, we had to walk through a long glass-encased pathway that cut across the pristine grounds of the property.

  “Did you have a coat with you when you came in?” I asked Jake as we passed the coat check but he just shook his head absently.

  I suppressed a sigh.

  Jake was always the easy-going type who didn’t lose his cool or space out of a situation. Right now though, he looked like he could walk right in front of a speeding car without blinking.

  “I think, when you get home, you should shut your brain down and get an early night’s sleep,” I told him as we arrived at the new front lobby of the museum. “Try not to think about Tessa tonight. Hopefully, a clear head helps you figure out some answers tomorrow morning.”

  He gave me a sardonic glance. “Do you honestly think I can sleep tonight when Tessa’s out with that Mitch guy who looked like he wouldn’t oppose the idea of getting into her pants if the opportunity came up?”

  I rolled my eyes. “His name’s Michael and if Tessa decides to spend the night with him, that’s her choice, unfortunately. But remind yourself that Tessa isn’t really the kind of girl who just casually rolls into bed with any guy.”

  “She rolled into bed with me,” he retorted, looking more and more agonized that he started pacing, drawing a curious look from the man behind the information desk.

  “Well, you’re not just any guy, Jake,” I told him with an exasperated sigh. “You’re a guy she knows better than most—too well, actually, which I think might be part of the problem—and a guy that she thought she’d foolishly set her heart on when he wasn’t the type to care about that kind of thing.”

  “So you’re saying that my history with her is both a blessing and a curse,” he summarized flatly.

  I smiled tightly and smacked him lightly him on the shoulder. “That’s exactly what I’m saying, my friend.”

  Jake groaned and dropped down on the cushioned bench by the seating area.

  I sat next to him and kept him company in the next ten minutes until his car pulled up in front of the entrance.

  There was usually a handful of media people loitering about the entrance but they got called in about an hour and a half ago for the brief media address that the Society did with them. They were given free reign to cover the event, especially the artworks, and enjoy the food as well so there was barely anyone lingering out in the slight chill of the fall evening, especially since the party was still in full swing.

  “Don’t do anything foolish like drunk-dial her or something like that, okay?” I reminded him as I walked him to his waiting car. “Sleep it off and start fresh tomorrow.”

  “I might sleep but I’m going to have nightmares,” he grumbled as he slid into the backseat. “I guarantee it.”

  I grinned at him and patted his knee. “You’ll survive this, you know, no matter how much it sucks right now. At least, this is proving to be educational for you. You never had it this bad for a girl before, have you?”

  He met my eyes sheepishly. “No, not really. Not even with you and you were the first to even make me think about taking relationships seriously.”

  “A little suffering can be good for the soul,” I teased him. “It builds fortitude.”

  “You are a good friend, you know,” Jake said softly, smiling a little at me. “No matter how things turned out, I was never wrong about what a great girl you are.”

  My heart tugged at that and I laughed lightly. “You won’t always feel that way about me, especially when I give you advice that doesn’t match up with what you want.”

  “Like going home and letting Tessa be for the rest of the evening?” he asked sulkily. “When all I want to do is punch that grin off that Mitch-guy’s face and throw her over my shoulder?”

  “Once again, his name is Michael and yes, exactly like that,” I said with a wink. “Trust me, it’s for your own good.”

  “I know, I know,” he said, sighing in resignation. “Goodnight, Charlotte. Enjoy the rest of the party.”

  “I will,” I promised him as I straightened to let Terry close the car door. “Goodnight.”

  I stood for a minute and watched Jake’s car drive away before turning around to head back to the party.

  I was just about to walk back into the main lobby when my cellphone sounded off from inside my black envelope clutch.

  I frowned as I read the call display. It was a number I had to save but had hoped to never need to call.

  “Danny? What’s wrong?” I asked as a sense of foreboding washed over me.

  “Has Riley contacted you?” he asked, sounding rushed and distracted. “Have you seen him at all today?”

  My heart started to pound and I stopped in my tracks as soon as I got through the front door. “No, I haven’t seen him. And he hasn’t called me at all. What’s going on?”

  “The neighbor who usually checks in on him every now and then said that he hasn’t seen the boy come home from school and no one’s answering at the apartment when she tried the door,” Danny explained, the worry clear in his voice. “I’m working the late shift tonight at the shop and I thought I’d maybe check with you and Layla first before I head out to look for him, just in case he’s with either of you. It’s a new job and I don’t want to get fired if it’s nothing.”

  It wasn’t that late, only a little past eight, but it was late and dark enough to make me worry about a twelve-year-old boy wandering the streets.

  “Have you spoken with Layla?” I asked, trying to clear my imagination of morbid possibilities.

  “Yeah, I just called her and told her,” Danny said with a deep, weary sigh. “She hasn’t heard from him either. The school usually calls if something happened but I don’t have anything. He usually just takes the bus home and... I don’t know where he is, Charlotte.”

  Surging to my feet, I started striding back into the hallway. “Does he have kids he usually hangs out with? Kids or friends from school he spends—Oof!”

  I collided with another body and nearly fell back on my butt if I didn’t catch my balance just at the last second.

  Bracing a hand against the wall next to me, I straightened myself and looked up at the person I just body-slammed.

  “Layla?” I stared at the woman who was dressed like a beauty queen in a deep blue, floor-length silk dress she had on. Her hair and make up were perfect, the sparkling diamond jewelry was perfect—in fact, she looked exactl
y as one would imagine the formidable and fabulous Layla LeClaire—except that her light blue eyes were wide with fear, the blood slowly leeching out of her complexion.

  “Riley’s missing,” she stammered, clutching my arm. “I have to go find him. Danny called and... and I... h-he’s missing, Charlotte! I don’t know where Riley is!”

  Her panic jolted me back into reality and I gripped her elbow firmly as if it would somehow keep her from crumpling to the floor. “I know, I know. I have Danny on the phone, okay? Hang on.”

  “Hey, Danny,” I said as I put the phone back to my ear again. “Text me whatever name and address you’ve got of some of Riley’s friends, okay? Layla and I are going to go look for him.”

  Before he could protest, I hung up and faced Layla. “Hey, it’ll be okay. We’re going to go find him.”

  My reassurances barely did anything to quell the wild look of panic in her eyes but I paid it no additional attention before I led her to the coat check.

  “Hand me your ticket,” I instructed her as I pulled out mine from my clutch. “Let’s go.”

  “But what about the party?” she managed to ask as we shrugged on our coat and jacket.

  Mine was a cropped, black leather motorcycle jacket which didn’t really do too much for me except cover my bare arms. I was in a one-of-a-kind Vienne gown, a gift from Noli and Vivienne. It was the perfect outfit for an arts appreciation dinner—one I was going to now mostly miss.

  “The event planners are doing a great job of running the show,” I told her, our heels clicking on the tiled floor as we hurried back to front lobby. “Hopefully, we won’t be gone for too long. I’ll call Brandon and tell him we had to do a last-minute run or something like that for the party.”

  Her lips pressed into a grim line as we practically leapt out of the museum and out to the sidewalk.

  We had to walk down a couple yards away to the corner of the street where we could hopefully spot a taxi.

  “I hope Don doesn’t notice I’m gone,” Layla rattled on in a shudder of a breath. “He’s going to lose it on me if he finds out. He’s had me practically locked in my room all week before tonight!”