The Mischievous Mrs. Maxfield (3 page)

Thrusting my chin up in pride, I walked on after I leapt off the table, forcing myself to forget the man whose face had filled each of my secret fantasies for years, and the million dollars he offered me to become the one thing I wasn't alone in dreaming of—his wife.

I walked away because I was about to do something I would likely regret for the rest of my life.

I was very angry at him moments ago but now, after putting a good distance betwen us, I just resented the fact that he took away one of the last few good things I had—the illusion of this great man I could love in secret and from a distance.

Brandon Maxfield wasn’t the man I imagined, but he was another one that let me down, and that stung most of all.

"You're kidding me!"

I groaned as I kept refreshing the browser page and got the same message over and over again saying that I have no internet connection.

It was my day off the next day and after sleeping in a little, I got up, ate a granola bar I grabbed from Marlow's snack room yesterday, and sat down in front of my laptop to check on some job listings. I needed a second job or something better-paying than my current one.

After checking all my connections and power-cycling my wireless modem, I grabbed my cellphone and called the cable company. I didn't have cable or phone but I kept the internet service, the cheapest and slowest I could possibly get.

"Hi, I'm just wondering why you guys cut my internet off," I said nicely when a girl picked up twenty minutes later. 

She asked for all my information and reluctantly, I gave them to her.

I didn't even know why I was calling. I knew the answer.

"Ms. Samuels, the reason you were disconnected is because we haven't received a payment from you last month and what had been current had just rolled over to a past due today. If you can pay us the overdue, we will be able to reconnect your service for you," she said and I sighed out loud.

We made arrangements and she restored my services for a few days until my online banking payment came through. After we hung up, I went into my web-banking account and grimaced at the negative balance. I was in overdraft on my checking account and my small line of credit was already maxed out. Even with my paycheck from Marlow's coming in a week, I wouldn't have enough to rise above the water. The internet bill was only one of the many unpaid ones I had stacked up on the kitchen table.

You can have a million dollars if you just put up with Brandon Maxfield for a year.

It wasn't the first time I recalled it since yesterday. In fact, his outrageous offer kept popping up in my head every fifteen minutes.

A million dollars would definitely get me out of debt and set me up comfortably. It could put me through pastry school and still leave me with enough to start my own small bakeshop. All I had to give up was a year of my life.

That plus your principles, your sanity and possibly your virtue.

Despite his awful behavior yesterday, I highly doubted that I would be able to fight my attraction to the man while living with him for a year. There was no mention about the more intimate parts of the marriage he proposed but recalling how enthralled he was with me, I didn't think he'd want to exercise his husbandly rights. I didn't want to go there either because so many things about it will just be so wrong—we didn't love each other, he's paying me to marry him and everything will just be a pretense.

It's like being an exclusive, high-class prostitute who gets a ring on her finger as temporary as her new last name.

The thought immediately doused any interest I had in the money. Sure, the money would make everything easier but I wasn't too far gone yet.

I dialed a number on my phone again. "Hey, Bobby. Do you need any shifts picked up today?"

An hour later, I was waiting on tables at the diner. It was lunch time—a busy couple of hours—and the tips were good. The bustle also took my mind off two of the biggest things that kept bothering me—Brandon and Bills. 

My good mood soured a little when I saw a man walk into the diner and stand by the elevated entrance, scanning the crowd. His face lit up when his eyes fell on me and I inwardly cringed.

Dustin Clarence was a junior partner in one of the top law firms in the city. He was in his mid-thirties and still attractive with his light blond hair and blue eyes but something about him just seemed... slimy.

He was always a little too over-friendly with the waitresses at Marlow's but he especially held a disconcerting interest in me. He'd asked me out many times, even when I was way too young to be going out with. He'd pay the other waitresses extra tips if they agree to always give me whichever table he was at. I never complained because he would always leave anywhere from fifty to a hundred dollars for a tip which no person in his right mind would do if he didn't want some 'extra service'.

He smiled at me, his eyes raking down my body and I fought the urge to shudder and take off.

I returned his smile and spotted the table he pointed to. 

Just endure it. If you play nice with him today, he might just give you enough to pay your internet bill.

I felt a little nauseous. Despite my protestations about striking a deal with Brandon to play his wife in exchange for a million dollars, I was pushing close to the line by sucking it up and letting men ogle me and flirt with me for larger tips. So much for my principles.

"Hello, Dustin," I greeted as I came over to his table with my notepad. "How are you doing?"

His eyes strained on my breasts which were molded by my tight shirt before looking up and smiling at me. "Better now that you're here. You're looking good, Charlotte. You've really filled out that cute, little uniform perfectly."

My feet tickled with the urge to flee but I just shifted my weight between them and gave him a tight smile. "Thanks, Dustin. Now, you want the usual or something different today?"

"Something different, I'd say," he responded, reaching out to touch my hip. I almost lost it and backed away but I forced mysel to stay still even when he gave my hip a light squeeze. "Maybe give me that pulled pork sandwich with fries and some hot peppers. I'm in the mood to indulge in something a little decadent and hot."

I nearly rolled my eyes as I wrote down the order and finally stepped back. "Alright. I'll be back with your usual Coke in a minute."

I did my best to ignore Dustin throughout his lunch but he wasn't an easy customer. He kept calling me over for the littlest things, taking advantage of every opportunity to openly leer at me or touch me.  He was gone when I came by his table to do a final check and a hundred dollar bill was tucked in receipt book. 

I kept telling myself it was worth it, no matter how sick it made me feel.

Wanting a breath of fresh air now that the diner had mostly cleared out, I stepped out to the back alley, grabbing one of the trash bins on my way to empty into the dumpster.

I had just set it down and was stretching my arms over my head when a noise startled me.

"Dustin. Mr. Clarence. What are you doing here?" I asked nervously as the man stepped through the back door and walked toward me. The alley was usually pretty empty except for the occasional employee who would step out for a smoke. 

"I was in the washroom when you came by to clear my table," he answered casually. "I didn't think I should just leave without saying goodbye."

I tried not to back away as he closed the distance between us. Even if I did, there wasn't a lot of room because the dumpster was a foot away behind me. 

"Well, you've seen me. Thanks for stopping by today," I said with a forced laugh, starting to back up a step. I glanced at the closed door. "I should probably get back to work anyway."

"Now, come on, Lottie," he cajoled, smiling suggestively, taking another step closer to me. "What's a few minutes? You have time for me, don't you? I'm your best-paying customer."

I frowned at him, my hand slipping into my pocket. "If you want your hundred dollars back, I'm happy to give it to you. Just... Just back off!"

My control was completely gone now.

I didn't like the lecherous gleam in his eyes and the way he kept stalking me as I backed up. When I felt the cold, hard steel of the dumpster on my back, I snapped.

"Here you go," I said, slapping the bill on his chest. He made no move to catch it so it fluttered to the ground, my gaze following it.

He chuckled. "If it's more money you want, Lottie, I can arrange that. I'm willing to spend a lot on you if it means I can fuck your brains out."

My cheeks burned and I shoved him on the chest. "Get lost, Dustin! Sorry to disappoint you but I'm not that kind of girl."

Unfortunately, he was a little bigger than an average-sized guy that my shove did little to get him off me.

He just laughed and grabbed my shoulder. "You could be at the right price, Lottie. And don't worry, I'm going to make sure we enjoy it both."

"I'll enjoy bashing your head, you asshole!" I yelled at him as I swung my knee forward to catch him in the groin but his hand shot out and intercepted it, pushing it back down as he pinned me against the dumpster, his mouth mashing against mine.

I screamed but little of it carried because he swallowed most of the sound. I twisted to get away but he leaned his weight against me, his one hand keeping me in place by the shoulder and his other groping my breast.

Tears burned my eyes and I squeezed them shut.

Goddammit! I'm not going down like this!

Suddenly, his weight was thrown off me and I blinked my eyes open to the scuffle that was playing out in front of me.

"You should keep your hands off unwilling ladies, Clarence," Brandon ground out as he slugged the other man on the face, sending him sprawling on the ground. 

"Maxfield!" Dustin hollered as he struggled to his feet but Brandon pinned him down on the chest with his knee. "This is none of your fucking business! She and I have an understanding."

"It didn't appear as if you were understanding each other very well," Brandon hissed as he grabbed Dustin by the collar and pelted his face with a few more knuckle-cracking punches. "Consider this your last warning, Clarence. Stay away from women who don't want you—especially Charlotte."

My already rapidly beating heart picked up its cadence not from the violent exchange between the two men but from the way Brandon said my name. 

Don't be pathetic, Charlotte. It's like trading one neanderthal for another.

Dustin laughed, spitting out some blood in the process. "Don't tell me she's got you too, Maxfield. She's a hot piece but I didn't think she was your type."

Brandon slammed him back down on the ground and Dustin groaned out loud in pain. "She's going to be my wife, Clarence, and if I hear you utter one negative word about her or come within a meter of her, I will destroy you, and you know that I can."

I gasped at Brandon's pronouncement. "Hey! I'm not—"

He looked up and glared at me. "Be quiet, darling. I'm not quite done here with your friend yet."

As much as I'd like to take Brandon by the ear and rant at him for making that presumptuous declaration, I was secretly thrilled to watch the fear register on Dustin's face as he glanced between me and Brandon. 

"Alright," I said with a sigh. "Toss him on his ass so he can get out of here before I decide to call the cops down the block. I doubt Mr. Clarence here would like being the weekend special with all those hoodlums down there."

A smile twitched at Brandon's mouth before he turned a cold, deadly gaze at Dustin. "Are we clear on this, Clarence, or would you like further enlightenment?"

The man blinked rapidly, stuttering in his reply. "I... I d-didn't know... okay? I'm sorry. I... Just let me go, Brand. I..."

Brandon lifted himself off Clarence and yanked him to his feet. 

"Get out of here," he barked out at the trembling man, pointing to the back door. "Now!"

Without pause, Dustin bolted for the door, leaving the two of us in pregnant silence for a long time, blood still rushing to my ears, my shoulders still shaking slightly.

"Do you need medical help?" he finally asked, glancing at me up and down as if checking for obvious injuries. 

I shook my head. "No, I'm fine. Just a little... rattled."

His expression darkened as he took out a perfectly pressed handkerchief from his pocket. "The next time something like this happens, there may be no one to help you. You gamble with your life every time you dally with a man like Clarence. He's sexually harrased a number of women and paid them all off to keep them quiet. He wouldn't have stopped at a kiss or a little fondle. If I didn't walk in on you, you could've been the newest addition to that list."

"How did you know where to find me?" I asked, a quiver in my voice.

"I just came in to talk to you again," he answered with a shrug, dusting his hands clean. "One of the waitresses told me where you were. I thought we could have a less public setting to talk again but when I got here, Clarence already had his tongue down your throat."

I opened my mouth to speak but gasped when he suddenly pressed the handkerchief to my jaw. I winced as I felt a slight sting.

"What the hell?" I muttered, grabbing his hand with the handkerchief, and saw the blood specked on the snowy white linen. "Why am I bleeding?"