The Mischievous Mrs. Maxfield (40 page)

[B, what u doing right now?]

A minute later, my phone buzzed with his reply. 

[Big meeting about a possible acquisition. Been at it since this morning. How’s your tea party?]

I resisted the urge to be forthcoming right away. He was in an important meeting and I didn’t want to distract him with my problems. 

[Done. Can I come to ur office? I’ll wait till ur done. I’m in downtown anyway.]

[OK. Done for the day after this but it might be another hour. We can dine out after. I’m starving.]

[Sure. How many ppl u meeting with?]

[Six. Why?]

[Just curious. OK. See u soon! Kiss!]

[Kiss. Kiss again. And again.]

[Get back 2 work, u lazy bum. =P]

[Yes, ma’am. =P]

I grinned, imagining Brandon’s expression as he interrupted his meeting to send me silly replies. I wouldn’t put it past him.

Spotting the Maxfield Towers a short distance away, I headed toward it with a renewed sense of purpose.

I stopped by Burpee’s, one of my favorite pizza places, and grabbed two large pizzas and a dozen-pack of soft drinks. Working at Marlow’s trained me on hefting large and heavy orders in my arms but I was a bit out of practice and my sprained wrist just got unbound this weekend. I was sweaty and panting by the time I made it to Maxfield Towers.

It wasn’t until I walked through the front door and faced a reception/security desk that stood between the turnstiles that I realized I’d never even been inside the building before and I had no ID or security pass of any sort.

This will be tricky. I don’t think they’ll let you Google yourself this time.

I upped the wattage of my smile as I approached the counter. A tall, intimidating man looked up and frowned at me and the stack of pizza I had my chin perched on.

“You need to call the number of the person who ordered the pizza because they’re expected to come down and pick it up on their own,” he said without preliminaries. 

Really? You think I’m a pizza delivery person? Who goes around delivering pizza in a dress and enough pearls to buy a luxury car with them? 

I had a feeling that whether or not I was still wearing my sixteen-hundred-dollar booties (according to Cindy from the shoe store), it wouldn’t have made a huge difference with this guy.

I fixed the smile back on my face and glanced at the name tag pinned on his shirt. “Hello, Roger. I’m not really here to deliver pizza—” He raised a brow at me. “—I mean, not technically like a pizza delivery guy, or girl. What I’m trying to say is... I’m here to, uh... You see, it’s because—”

Well, that was articulate. It’s really going to win you some big points with Robo-Roger here.

When the man just raised his brows at me, obviously waiting for me to keep tripping over my words, I sighed and blew the hair off my face.

“I’m here to see my husband,” I blurted out. “He’s in a meeting and I’m bringing him some food as a surprise since they’ve been at it since this morning apparently. I don’t know where his office is. I’ve never been here before.”

“And what’s his name?” Roger asked, exhaling sharply as if he was drawing for patience from some inner well. 

“Brandon Maxfield.”

Roger looked at me with a You’re-shitting-me face. I wish I were, buddy. I wish I were.

“Can I see some ID please?” he asked warily. I would guess from his cautiousness that he was probably aware that his boss had married but since he didn’t seem the type to read the gossip rags, he probably had no idea who the new Mrs. Maxfield was. I would twirl and dance if I wasn’t carrying an armful of food and wasn’t about to get kicked out of the building.

“Sure,” I said, placing the pizza boxes on the counter and digging into my clutch for my mini-wallet. Since I didn’t have a driver’s license, I usually provided my passport as photo ID but I didn’t bring that with me today. I pulled out a credit card that Felicity gave me instead when she gave me my banking stuff right after I got engaged to Brandon.

“Here you go,” I said, handing the card to Roger.

He took it and with narrowed eyes, looked up at me in question. “It says Charlotte Samuels.”

I bit my bottom lip. “Yes, well, I haven’t had a name change yet. I just got married a couple weeks ago and a lot of things were going on. My assistant is getting it all done by the end of this week. She’s been hounding me for it but I’ve just been so busy.”

Roger didn’t seem swayed by my explanation. “This is a credit card.”

I rolled my eyes. “I know that. It’s a black credit card, you see? It’s supposed to mean something. Apparently, really rich people have it. If I was just a pizza delivery person, would I have one?”

“It depends whether a certain Charlotte Samuels is missing a credit card somewhere,” Roger replied baldly, handing me back my card. “You’re going to have to do better than that, miss. There’s no food delivery past this door unless you have authorization.”

I groaned and bumped my forehead softly against the edge of the counter. 

I was screwed. 

The pizza was cooling down and I needed to sit down soon but I wasn’t going to drag Brandon out of an important meeting for this.

“I know!” I exclaimed as the light bulb in my head lit up. I dug out my cellphone and scrolled through some photos I took of Brandon sometime this week.

I pulled up the one of him in a white T-shirt, holding up a book in front of him that he had been reading when I took this shot. It was the only one that had a clear profile of him. The rest of the photos were a little too intimate—like him sleeping or walking around the bedroom in just his pajama pants without a shirt on—and I didn’t want to show those to just anyone. 

“Here, look at him,” I said, trying to shove my phone at Roger’s face but he quickly stepped back, refusing to even look at the screen.

“Listen, miss. I asked for ID and that’s what I’ll need to see if we’re going anywhere with this,” he said sternly. “I am not looking at your credit cards or photos or anything else that doesn’t qualify as ID.”

“Fine, fine,” I muttered with a loud sigh, slipping my phone back into my clutch. “Alright. How about you give Marissa a call? She’s Brandon’s personal assistant. She knows me.”

I had only met the woman a couple of times and she was like the female version of Roger actually, now that I come to think of it. She was pleasant enough, efficient to a point of being robotic, and stayed out of Brandon’s way most of the time.

Roger’s brows furrowed. “I don’t disturb Ms. Felix unless it’s something she’s directly dealing with. I haven't received any memo from her detailing your arrival.”

I glared at him. “Of course not. Didn’t you hear what I said earlier? I said it was a surprise. Who announces they’re coming when it’s a surprise?” 

When Roger’s expression just tightened, I shook my head and scrolled through the contacts list on my phone. “I’d really hate to do this but you’re not giving me any choice.”

I called Brandon’s office number and after a couple of rings, Marissa Felix picked up.

“Mr. Brandon Maxfield’s office, how may I help you?”

“Hey, Marissa!” I greeted brightly and loudly enough for Roger not to miss a single word. “It’s me, Charlotte. I’m just down here at the front lobby actually. I brought food for Brandon’s meeting but I don’t have any ID with me or anything I can use to get through security. Could you please let me in or something? I don’t mean to impose but I just didn’t want to stand here and wait with the pizza or it’ll get cold.”

“Oh, Charlotte,” Marissa said in surprise. “Of course. I’ll call the front desk. Don’t you worry. Hang on, please. I’ll just put you on hold while I make that call.”

I kept the phone to my ear as the hold music played and smiled sweetly at Roger. It wasn’t my intention to throw my weight around but he wouldn’t even bother to inquire about me and whether I was telling the truth or not.

The front desk phone rang and Roger eyed it nervously before picking it up.

“Yes, Ms. Felix,” he replied into the receiver, a thin film of sweat forming on his upper lip. “I understand. Yes. I apologize. Yes, I will. Thank you. Alright, bye.”

Marissa came back on the line with me as Roger lowered the phone back to its cradle. “You’re cleared, Charlotte. I’ll make sure to have facilities and security updated with your info so this never happens again. I apologize if you had a hard time.”

“Oh, please, don’t worry about it,” I assured her. “I totally understand that Roger is just doing his job. I’m good now so thanks. I’ll see you in a bit.”

I hung up with Marissa and grinned at Roger. “I’m so glad we sorted that out, Roger. I’m sorry for the trouble but I couldn’t think of anything else.”

“I apologize Mrs. Maxfield,” the man said awkwardly. “I, uh...”

I shook my head. “Please, call me Charlotte and don’t worry about it. I won’t get you into trouble.”

“Thank you,” he said in obvious relief as he guided me through the turnstiles. “Would you like me to find someone to escort you to the office and help you carry all of this?”

“No, I’m good. Thanks,” I told him as I took the pizza from him. “I used to be a waitress in a diner so I have strong arms. By the way, how do I find Brandon’s office? I forgot to ask Marissa.”

“Twenty-ninth floor. Turn right when you arrive at the lobby. The hall leading to it is labeled.”

“Awesome, thanks!” I gave him whatever wave I could manage before walking toward the bank of elevators.

There were a couple of people in the elevator when I got in and one of them held the door open for me.

“Which floor?” the guy who held the door for me asked since I was barely able to see the panel from the edge of the pizza box. 

“Twenty-ninth, please,” I told him with a grateful smile. 

“What? Is the boss throwing a pizza party or something?” he joked as he punched some buttons on the panel and the door slid close. “And Burpee's sent its prettiest delivery girl to bring the order?”

“No, Burpee's didn’t,” I bristled. “It’s a surprise.”

Keep your mouth shut, Charlotte. Just get through this elevator ride or you’re going to have another episode like the one with Roger.

The elevator gradually emptied as people got off different floors until I was left alone to make the rest of my way up.

Following Roger’s directions, I walked down the hall on the right and stepped in through the open office door until I saw Marissa look up from a desk.

“Hi!” I flashed the forty-something woman a big smile as she stood up to help me with my shopping bag and the food. “I'm so glad you were here when I called, Marissa, or I would’ve had to sit out on the front steps until Brandon was done with his meeting.”

“I actually had just stepped out when you called. He didn’t mention you were coming so I hadn’t been expecting you,” she told me as she and I set the food down on a small side table. “But I just checked with him and he confirmed it. He’s just distracted. It’s been a long meeting.”

I stood back after everything was set down on the table and looked around, flexing my aching arms and admiring the large, airy office and the large glass windows that were filled with the view of downtown. “I was in the area so I thought I’d stop by. I’ve never been here before. It looks great!”

“That’s Brandon’s office there,” she said, pointing to a closed, heavy oak door. “You can go in and freshen up or wait for him there. It’s up to you. His meeting is in a conference room just down the next hall.”

“I was hoping to serve the pizza,” I told Marissa as I propped one box open. “If it’s too much food, we can leave some here and whoever else wants some can have it. Brand said he was starving.”

“We did serve lunch earlier but that was about three and a half hours ago and it was mostly just light sandwiches,” Marissa admitted. “Well, we can grab both boxes and the drinks and go knock on the door. At this point, they might be grateful for the reprieve.”

The thing that I liked Marissa, even though I had only interacted with her once or twice, was that nothing perturbed her. She never looked at me in confusion or thought that I was crazy or something.

Together, we toted the pizza boxes and the soft drinks down the hall.

“Maybe you should let me go first in case he gets totally pissed and blows up for the interruption,” I told her as we paused by the door. “I can take the full impact.”

A rare smile curved on the woman’s lips. “I have no problem with that.”

I knocked but before I gave anyone a chance to answer the door, I pushed the knob open and poked my head in.

Seven heads sporting scowls turned my way.

I grinned and waved. “Hello!”

Brandon was sitting at the head of the table, looking up at a wiry, older man who was in the middle of a presentation. 

When our eyes met, his expression softened and he smiled so broadly, I felt the tremors of its potent power all the way to my toes wiggling inside my sneakers.

“Charlotte!” he said, rising to his feet and coming toward me. 

Murmurs filled the room at the greeting but I barely noticed because Brandon grabbed me by my shoulders and planted a quick kiss on my lips even if he had to lean over the pizza box I was still holding between us.