The Mischievous Mrs. Maxfield (64 page)

***

I didn’t have a lot of time left to contemplate on Gwen’s mysterious behavior and motives.

I had to rush down to the RMV to get my learner’s permit before all testing was done for the day. The line up for it was thankfully short. After presenting all my documents, taking the vision test and having my photo taken, I went and passed the exam for it which wasn’t too bad with only a little over twenty questions on it.

When I finally got my learner’s, I hurried back to the penthouse to make the paella. 

Then I got on the shower and spent another half hour getting ready, putting on a raspberry pink, belted tunic dress and flat summer sandals, and pushing my wavy hair back with a thin white headband decorated with a small, pink silk rosette. 

Brandon rang me while I was in the shower and left the beginnings of a message on my voicemail before he got interrupted by someone.

I tried calling him back but it went to his voicemail again. I wanted to talk to him but I had no time to play phone tag when I was running late for the family dinner.

Since Gilles was off, I used the car service the concierge provided to head to Martin’s house just right around five in the afternoon.

Having grown up practically like an orphan, I craved family gatherings.

There was something warm and tight in my chest every time I found myself sitting around smiling and affectionately bantering people—even the occasional drama.

Since having been initiated into the Maxfield’s circle, I haven’t once missed a family gathering. So even without Brandon, I came, armed with square cake-sized sans rival and a warm dish of paella.

The dinner guests were lounging in the formal sitting room, snacking on some appetizers and talking casually, when I arrived.

The Maxfield brood was there, except for Brandon, of course. Jake was sitting across from Martin on a leather armchair, talking business although I caught the conspiratorial gleam in his eyes when he saw me come in. Tessa was in a corner with Mattie, humming some kind of duet with him probably for a new composition. She looked up at my entrance but quickly looked away, doing her best to turn her attention back to her brother instead of the man she was clearly aware was watching her in the corner of his eye.

Their awkward avoidance of each other was obvious to me but no one else seemed to notice—or if they did, no one uttered a word.

I promised Jake I’d help champion him to Tessa but now, in front of everyone, wasn’t the right time for it. 

Anna was swirling a glass of wine as she stood by the half-open french doors that led to the patio, speaking with one of my least favorite people in the world—Francis.

I spent nearly twenty minutes just talking and catching up with everyone but eventually, I had to face Francis. 

He’d been standing in the periphery of the group the whole time, long after Anna had left him to his devices to sit with Tessa and Mattie. Like a stranger looking in from the outside, he just stood there, sipping his drink and watching the scene, occasionally tossing in a comment here or there.

I wanted to avoid him because I didn’t want to get into another ugly argument with him but I reminded myself that he was family and no matter how I felt about him, I had to try and be civil for sake of the others.

“Hello, cuz,” he greeted politely when I completed my round of hugs and greetings and finally turned his way. “You look a lot less stressed out than you were when I last saw you.”

I forced a polite smile. “Yes, well. When leeches suck the blood out of you, you get a little lightheaded and nauseous. Same effect with the Championettes.”

His brow lifted, his blue eyes glinting with wry amusement. “Eloquently put, as usual.”

“Nah, just lazy. I save my nasty creatives for showdowns,” I said with a shrug, smiling a little when I saw him roll his eyes in exasperation, like someone who realized he should’ve known better.

“You’re irreverent,” he muttered.

“You’re irritating,” I answered without heat or hesitation.

He exhaled loudly and shook his head. You’d think after a few confrontations, he’d be used to me by now.

“I heard Brandon is still handling the pulp mill crisis,” he said, changing the topic. “It’s a small one he could’ve left to the operational director.”

“Brandon is a little more hands on than that,” I answered, bristling at the criticism I could detect in Francis’s statement. “He doesn’t like to just sit from his throne and watch the world burn around him, thinking that there’ll be servants to put out the fire.”

Francis’s smiled with that same half-disdained, half-amused proportion to it. “I can see why Brandon is so obsessed with you. You’re as fiercely loyal as a dog.”

I wrinkled my nose. “I wonder how you get dates. You have the same good genes as the Maxfields, you’re wealthy and placed high up on the ladder, but you’ve got about as much charm as a tree stump.”

He didn’t seem offended by that as he shrugged. “Just lazy. I reserve my charm for those I actually care to flatter.”

“Oh, right!” I said with a cheerful clap of my hands although I was mildly irritated by his mimicking my line from earlier. “You reserve it for goddesses like Simone. How’s that working out anyway? Are we going to hear wedding bells soon?”

He narrowed his eyes, his voice low and soft when he answered, “No. Not everyone has a secret agenda for getting hitched. There’s no million-dollar check in it for me.”

I felt my insides turn into ice as his words settled in my gut like a mini iceberg.

Of course, he knew. How could I forget?

Simone confirmed with Brandon that Francis knew something and had proof.

He knew about the million dollars. He must have one hell of an accurate proof.

Like the contract.

He couldn’t possibly have it. My copy was still sitting safely in a shoe box in a crevice in the wall inside the linen closet in the hallway at my house. It was where I used to keep my important documents like passports and bank stuff. I’d left the contract there when I moved in with Brandon, thinking I was going to go back to it in a year and knowing I would be uneasy to have it within reach, knowing the lie it represented.

Brandon must still have his because I was certain he would’ve said something by now if he’d lost it.

My hands felt clammy as I steadily met Francis’s stare. The urge to flee felt like a bad itch on my feet but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he could cow me with the truth—even with the rest of the Maxfields within earshot of a declaration in case Francis decided to make one.

I quickly glanced at the others in the corner of my eye, making sure that no one was paying us too much attention. We were standing together practically halfway out to the patio and everyone else seemed busy talking to each other inside.

“What I don’t get is,” I said in an equally soft voice despite the erratic pounding of my heart. “What’s in it for you, Francis?”

He frowned slightly. “You don’t know?”

I arched a brow at him. “Would I ask if I did?”

“Not much of a team, you two, after all,” he mocked.

The comment rankled but I focused on the answers I wanted to find. “What’s in it for you, Francis?”

His eyes glinted as a smug smile turned up one corner of his mouth. “A whole damn lot. For the first time in years, I’m the one with the upper-hand. Brandon can finally stop playing God.”

Oh, Brand. What did you do?

Resentment was clear in Francis’s icy blue gaze, anger sharp under his lowly murmured words.

Reason with him, Charlotte. Come on. Give it a shot. See if you can reach into the cage to feed the tiger without getting your arm chewed off.

“Do you really want to cause a lot of people unhappiness just to get ahead on your rivalry with Brandon?” I asked. “You admitted to caring a lot about the old man before. Do you really want to put him through that misery?”

He scoffed. “Shouldn’t you have asked yourself that question before you agreed to yours and Brandon’s arrangement? Don’t try to lay guilt on me, Charlotte. I merely know the lie and wonder how to best use it to right things. You and your husband perpetrated it.”

Anger and panic fused inside me but I kept the polite expression fixed on my face. “You’re no better than the people who committed the crime if you go out of your way to profit from it.”

A smile broke out on his face. “There is no truer statement. You should tell Brandon that and maybe he’ll realize exactly what he’d done to me.”

I opened my mouth to argue, floundering as I sought for the right words to say, when I heard the voice I would know anywhere.

“Charlotte, love.”

Brandon.

I whipped around and saw him standing by the archway that led to the living room from the front hall, wearing a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, dark gray pants and expensive leather shoes. 

He looked like he ordinarily would coming home from the office except that he was slightly wrinkled, his dark hair disheveled, his jaw scruffy, and his face almost gaunt with exhaustion.

His mouth though was crooked with a smile, his hazel eyes shining happily.

“Brandon!” 

Later, people would comment on how fast I ran across the living room, clumsily dodging those who were in my way, before I flung myself into Brandon’s arms.

His arms locked around me as he lifted me off my feet and swung me around in a half-circle until my back was to the hall, his broad shoulders blocking us from the view of his family who would mostly likely stare openly and roll their eyes.

“Oh, Brand. I’m so happy you’re home,” I murmured to him just before he caught my mouth in a sweet but urgent kiss, his hand cupping the back of my head, his fingers threading through my hair. 

The smell, feel and taste of him invaded my senses—much like that painful relief when your blood rushed back to your veins after your circulation was cut off.

With great reluctance, I let him step back when he broke our kiss, willing to trade the ministrations of his mouth for a close-up glance of his face.

“I’ve missed you, Charlotte,” he murmured with a smile, kissing the tip of my nose and the space between my brows almost reverently. “I had no idea how hellishly long two days without you was going to be.”

I grinned and stood on my tiptoes to kiss him again, clutching the front of his shirt, when we heard someone sigh loudly.

“I understand you’re both ecstatic to be reunited but maybe you should sit with us and eat first before getting the hell out of here,” Martin said with a knowing smirk when Brandon and I broke apart to face the amused expressions of our audience.

Brandon scratched his head and gave his father a sheepish grin.”Good idea, Dad. And hello, everyone. Sorry, I was distracted from the moment I walked in.”

Anna grinned at her brother as the rest of the family got up on their feet to head to the dining room. “Don’t worry, it’s a good kind of distraction, Brand. I swear, sometimes, when you’re smiling and looking all dreamy-eyed gazing at your wife, I forget you’re my brilliant, powerful older brother.”

Brandon smiled put an arm around my shoulder as he followed the rest toward the dining room. “Thank you, Anna. Although I’m wondering if you’re just softening me up so I don’t scold you for dragging Charlotte and Tessa out to a college party last night.”

Anna gave a dismissive shrug. “Oh, please. I don’t remember a whole lot but I’m pretty sure that Charlotte was as sober as a fresh breathalyzer stick last night. Besides, she’s still young even though she’s already married and making important strides in society. She can afford a little bit of fun partying with people her age.”

“Up to a point,” I said to Anna with a smile. “When people my age start to get really wasted and do things they will never want to talk about in public again, I’m reminded why I was never a big party-person in the first place.”

Anna and I laughed but when I glanced up at Brandon, I could tell by the knit of his brows that he’d taken in what Anna had said with grave seriousness.

He was about to say something as we filed into the dining room where a couple of Martin’s house staff was laying out an assortment of dishes on the long, elegantly set up dining table, but Francis suddenly came up behind us.

I’d totally forgotten about him!

“Good to see you, Brand,” he said in a friendly tone that didn’t quite mask the hint of derision in his voice. “I was wondering whether I was going to have to fly to Virginia to see you.”

My heart had resumed its nervous pounding as I felt Brandon stiffen at his cousin’s comment.

Anna had excused herself and went ahead of us to take her spot at the table while we all paused by the doorway.

“I wasn’t running from my responsibilities, if that’s what you’re implying,” Brandon bit out. “I was doing the exact opposite, in fact, but you wouldn’t recognize accountability if it looked you right in the eye now, would you, Frans?”

I glanced at the dining room and saw that Jake and Martin both had their eyes on us. The tension between the cousins was palpable you could hit your head on it and get bruised but the last thing I wanted was for them to hash it out here, right before dinner and in front of the family.