The Mischievous Mrs. Maxfield (72 page)

“Don’t scream the house down, you goat!” I chided him, frowning when I realized that while his shout certainly pushed my ear drums to a near-shatter, the effort wouldn’t have caused as much strain on him as I was noticing.

Beads of perspiration had formed above his brows and his upper lip, his skin was a pasty white and his lips were dry and chapped. The sleek sweep of his hair was gone, leaving damp brown locks stuck in chunks around his forehead and temples. 

As if suddenly realizing my intent scrutiny of him, he straightened his hunched shoulders and pushed his hair off his forehead, the slight trembling of his hands not escaping my notice.

With a deep shudder of breath, he inhaled and exhaled, speaking in a lower, more even voice while his sharp blue eyes fell on me with laser-like focus. “I will not let you or anyone else stand between me and my family.”

I blinked, the rake I was holding lowering slightly. “Interesting choice of words for someone who couldn’t get away from them quickly enough.”

But a hand fell gently on my shoulder and I glanced up at Nicole who stepped around me, her eyes locked on Francis. 

“When I’ve decided what’s best for me and Zach, I’ll find you,” she said in a small but steady voice. Atta girl. “But until then, show me that I can trust you to respect my choices. Start by backing off on your threats to the people who’d done nothing but look after me and our son when you’d refused to.”

I watched Francis’s face tighten with what I could only imagine as a chaos of emotions because while his jaw tensed and his lips tightened into an agitated line, his eyes were pleading and... desperate. Just like Brandon observed about his cousin.

“I don’t have time for games, Nic,” he said in a grave voice even though he gave her a stiff nod. “But since time is only one of the few things I’ve got to make up for, I’ll start with giving you that right now. But don’t make me wait too long.”

My eyes widened in disbelief as I stared at him. “If I understand something about what you’re trying to do here, Francis, I’d say you’re in no position to be demanding anything.”

He turned his gaze at me, the fiery blue stare doing its best to scorch me. “Don’t push me, Charlotte. I might be persuaded to get off your case but I’m in no means happy with you or Brandon. I wouldn’t stand around and listen to hypocrites preach.”

I strangely found that remark funny and gave him a crooked smile as I lowered the rake to the floor. “Get off your high horse, Francis. We’ve all got a little hypocrite in us—kinda hypocritical to say we don’t, don’t you think?”

But before Francis could respond, I felt Nicole tug at my arm. “Let’s go, Char, before we all change our minds about this and you end up murdering him with a rake.”

“And I will call the police on all of you and make you clean up all the blood because I’m already on overtime!” the old woman, whom we’d totally forgotten about, said loudly as she stood there with her hands on her hips, looking at us in exasperation. “Now, get out of here so I can go home!”

I cringed and started digging into my purse for some money because while I necessarily didn’t believe in monetary rewards to people, I had no idea what our little soap opera scene had cost her. 

“I’ll take care of it,” Francis interrupted, smoothly handing the woman a thick wad of cash. “Thank you for accommodating us, ma’am. Goodnight to you.”

The woman still gave us the evil eye even as she pocketed the cash and pushed the door open to escort us out.

“How are you going to get home?” Francis asked, turning to Nicole as we stepped out of the greenhouse.

“By a pumpkin I’m magically turning into a grand carriage,” I snapped, narrowing my eyes at him. “You’re not driving or following her home, Francis. She’d come find you, remember?”

His lips thinned but he nodded. “I remember.”

“Since he’s promised to stay out of your way, why don’t you just stay and enjoy the party?” I asked Nicole hopefully. “There’s going to be lots of amazing food and it’ll be so much fun. I can introduce you to everyone—”

Nicole glanced at Francis before shaking her head at me with a small smile. “I think I’ll go home and spend the evening with Zach. He’d be missing me by now. We’ve never spent this much time apart.”

I watched Francis’s expression from the corner of my eye and felt intense satisfaction at the helplessness that flickered in his eyes, like a man who desperately wanted to do something—anything—to help the situation.

If I didn’t know better, Francis would walk to hell and back to undo the mistakes he’d made. Just a feeling. 

“He’s in good hands but if you want to go, I won’t stop you,” I told her gently, knowing that the thought of Zach with his new babysitter (who was a young girl who lived a couple doors down from them) would never completely reassure her. I gave Francis a sideways glance. “And neither is he. We’ll go and get you home, okay?”

“Okay, thanks.” Nicole gave Francis one last surreptitious glance, her face baring all her confused emotions for him for a second, before turning away.

Nicole started toward the hall again with me behind her but as we kept going, I snuck a glance at Francis over my shoulder. 

He was staring long and hard at Nicole, his face intense with emotions that of a man who’d zeroed in on what appeared to be a long and difficult way home. 

I smiled as I turned away, continuing behind Nicole.

The villains who come out of the shadows are those who crave the light despite all the ugly things it reveals.

After an amazing and highly successful weekend, the Teaser grossing a seven-digit number in auction proceeds, Martin threw a small but extravagant lunch to celebrate. 

Our friends from Cobalt Bay, having been acquainted with the old man as well for years, were invited to make it their last stop before they returned to California.

Of course, no one could say no to Martin.

The entire family came and close friends joined in. 

Despite Brandon’s reservations, I persuaded Nicole to attend with Zach. 

Actually, I brought up the idea but didn’t really think she would take me up on it. She caught me off guard when she contemplated for a long moment and suddenly said yes—but without Zach.

“I want to make sure I can trust Francis,” was the reason she gave me, adding, “He’s suddenly so adamant about being a part of our lives. I don’t want to find out he just wants to take our son away to get back at me.”

Things were still muddled between the two that Francis’s motives were like mud on dirt. Good luck telling one from the other. 

After I dragged Nicole away from that ugly confrontation with Francis, I’d tried asking her what he had demanded. 

All that she’d told me was that there was mostly a lot of yelling about everything that had happened between them more than two years ago and all that she’d really understood from him so far was that he now wanted to claim his right to them.

She didn’t trust him but as much as Nicole didn’t want to admit it, I could tell that she clung to a small hope that Francis, for all the vile things he’d done to her and Zach in the past, was redeemable.

Fair enough, right? We love the savages despite their wildness because we hope that we can someday tame them. They can either leave us bleeding or beloved. 

If Nicole’s presence bothered Francis, when he arrived and saw her perched on a couch talking with Tessa, he didn’t show. 

He gave her a slight, courteous nod before glancing back and forth between me and Brandon, his expression inscrutable.

The others didn’t really know Nicole except for the Maxfield sisters who vaguely recognized her, and Jake who used to hang out with her when she still ran in the same circles he and Brandon did.

I introduced her as a good friend of mine and Brandon’s and if anyone thought it was strange that I dragged her along, no one said anything about it. 

“Something going on that you want to tell me about?” Jake said when he came up to me at the wet bar where a variety of non-alcoholic mixed drinks were also served. “I haven’t seen Nicole in years and the last time I did, she and Francis weren’t so enthralled with each other.”

I smiled, sneaking a glance over my shoulder to check on Nicole who was now in a small group with Tessa, Cassandra, Felicity and Aimee. 

They were all listening with rapt attention to something Rose was animatedly telling them about.

Jake and I were in a quiet corner at the fringes of the group that no one was really paying us any attention.

“It’s not my story to tell but I hope things will come to light pretty soon,” I told Jake. “Speaking of things coming to light, have you had any progress with your lady love?”

If the word love bothered Jake, I couldn’t tell because he merely rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I’ve never met a more stubborn girl. For the first time in my life, I let myself suffer the indignity of calling a girl and leaving a billion messages on her phone only to hear nothing back except for one polite voicemail saying I hope you’ve cured your guilt now. Have a good life, Jake.”

I barely suppressed a chuckle. “Message-bombing someone may not be the best way to win them over. I thought you were smoother than that, Jake.”

“I was,” he said with a withering stare. “I’ve tried all the moves I know—flowers, chocolates, a casual invitation to coffee, a dinner date, a movie, a walk to the park—and I’m out of ideas. I’m trying so hard but nothing seems to have worked.”

I refilled my glass with some fizzy cranberry drink and turned to look at Jake in thought. “Maybe that’s the problem—you’re trying too hard. Based on the message she left you, she might think you’re desperate to apologize or make up for what she thinks you might consider as a terrible mistake. She might think you need to assuage your guilt asap so you could feel better and move on, and despite her nonchalance, that probably stings.”

Jake gave me a bewildered look. “Maybe she should stop assuming how I really feel and give me a fair chance, don’t you think?”

“Indignant, I see,” I teased, wrinkling my nose at him before speaking in an overly dramatic distressed female voice, touching a hand to my forehead. “Oh, fate, what do I do? This man who has broken oh-so-many hearts and not lost any sleep over it, pleads that I trust him with mine! Oh, fate! Why is it so hard?”

Jake scowled at me for a good five seconds before his face broke out in a grin. “I get it, I get it.”

We laughed for a moment before the humor in Jake’s eyes faded into an expression of restless turmoil. He glanced in Tessa’s direction and caught her eye for a second before she quickly looked away.

“I’m fresh out of ideas, Char,” he murmured with a heavy sigh as he turned back to me with a weak smile. “For a moment, I convinced myself that maybe this was for the best—that maybe neither of us should take it farther—but that resolution lasted about ten seconds before I started thinking about her again. I’ve got to get through to her and I don’t know how.”

I put a hand on Jake’s shoulder. “Maybe just ask her to talk—without a major production or any kind of expectation. No smooth-talk or grand gestures or the slick, heartbreaky-Jakey style-seduction.”

He cast me a dubious look. “Do you think she’ll take me up on it?”

“You won’t know till you try and at this point, you don’t have much to lose,” I told him with a smile. 

That got him to brighten up a bit, his eyes lighting up with inspiration. “A bullshit-free conversation. I see where this could be convincing.”

“You two seem as thick as thieves, plotting the next big heist in history.”

Jake and I looked up to find Brandon coming up to us, his brows furrowed in amused curiosity. “What’s the big secret?”

The story of your best friend and baby sister having a one-night-stand isn’t one you’d want to hear, I answered in my mind even though I flashed my husband a broad smile and shook my head quickly, mentally groping for some plausible excuse to give. “Nothing. We’re just talking about one of Jake’s, um, love interests.”

Jake gave me a sideways glance before straightening up and shrugging casually. “Same, old boring stuff you don’t really want me to tell you, Brand.”

Brandon raised a brow at him. “You don’t think I should hear it but you’re telling it to my wife who’s as innocent as a lamb?”

“Hey, I’m not innocent and definitely not wooly!” I protested with a weak laugh, smacking Brandon on the arm. “Besides, Jake’s stories are simply for my amusement and educational purposes.”

I didn’t like lying, despite how good I got at it, and while I wasn’t exactly lying outright to Brandon, I was certainly doing my best to avoid giving him an honest answer.

I caught sight of Tessa’s slight frown over her brother’s shoulder and my stomach churned slightly. 

Since Jake and I got substantially louder when Brandon came, the way it happened every time people were caught off guard doing something they shouldn’t be doing, she probably overheard our thoughtless dialog.

The last thing she needed right now was more proof that Jake was just as indifferent about women and relationships as he’d been his whole life.

White lies—a pristine backdrop where you could start bleeding when you hit a snag and tear the truth open.

In this case, a white lie was a risk I was willing to take over an assuredly bloody spectacle if Brandon learned the truth about Jake and Tessa’s not-so-platonic status.

“I think I’ll take full accountability of my wife’s education about these things, Jake,” Brandon said with a mock-glare as he put an arm around me possessively. “Don’t let her curiosity slow you down from all that love you’re spreading around.”

I could see Tessa’s expression tighten and I wanted to smack Brandon in the head for unwittingly making the situation worse. 

She was clearly paying attention to us now and she wasn’t liking anything she’d heard so far.

I caught Jake’s eye and from the flicker of panic in his gaze, I knew he realized the same thing.

Slipping an arm around Brandon’s waist, I expertly turned him around, signalling Jake with a discreet look to get away as I went. “Sorry to abandon you, Jake, but now that Brandon has made it clear he intends to look after my education, I’m assuming he’s now willing to tell me all of his naughty past escapades.”

“I said nothing about telling you any of that,” Brandon argued with a laugh, oblivious to my steering as I guided us away from Jake who now had to figure out a way to dig himself out of that hole we just pushed him in head first.

I’d throw him a shovel later when Brandon wasn’t around to pack the dirt in around him.

Brandon and I were intercepted by Vivienne and Oliver who swiftly solicited a promise out of us to come and join this big New Year’s party that Vivienne was organizing for family and good friends.

While I heartily enjoyed participating in that conversation, I kept watch of Jake and Tessa in the corner of my eye, internally relieved when Jake finally managed to approach her as she got up to head out to the back porch.

The temperature was a little brisk today that most people were inside so when the two came back in fifteen minutes later, infinitely warmer toward each other based on the small, shy smile Tessa gave Jake before they parted ways, I mentally fist-pumped our swift recovery from that disastrous stumble off the track.

Things were going so well I was beaming and humming all to myself when I came down the stairs after checking in on Rose. She was now in one of the guest bedrooms upstairs after she drifted off on Brandon’s shoulder when the adults had sat around for some after-lunch tea in the rec room.

Aimee was winning an intense game of billiards with Jake, Vivienne and Sebastian so I took the liberty of making sure the exhausted little girl was still napping soundly.

When I came back to the rec room, the game was still playing out with everyone seated around the billiards table, observing intently as Vivienne took her position.

Smiling, I stopped by the side table and was pouring myself a cup of tea when a tall figure loomed over me.

I looked up and found Francis glowering.

I picked up my cup and sighed. “What is it? I can think of so many reasons why you’d be giving me that look so you’re going to have to help me narrow it down to a specific one.”

“Nicole left. Brandon just hurried after her.”

I choked on the warm liquid and spat some out back into my cup which I quickly lowered in hope to save myself and Francis some healthy anti-oxidant bath.

I swiped the back of my hand over my lips before narrowing my eyes at him, my anger instantly spurred. “And why would she do that when she was having such a good time ten minutes ago? I can think of only one reason and he’s standing right in front of me, looking ridiculously righteous.”

Francis’s jaw tightened. “I was only asking to see Zach. I don’t see anything unreasonable about that. He’s my son.”

“Being a sperm-donor doesn’t make a man a father, you know?” I said acidly, my hands curling into tight fists at the truth of my own words, not just from Zach’s perspective but from my own as well. 

Fathers are supposed to care for you, protect you, teach you about life and the world. They’re there to teach you how to ride a bike and how to pick yourself up when you fall. They’re not supposed to neglect you or decorate your face and body with bruises and broken bones. 

“Abandoning your child is the work of a coward, not a parent deserving of the privilege of being one. Just because you wish to be a father now doesn’t mean you can just erase the years you weren’t one to your son.”

“I know that, Charlotte,” he grated. “As unfortunate as that may be, it’s a truth I can’t change. But it won’t stop me from doing what I need to do now and you have no right to get in my way. You can’t rub my sins in my face when you’re neck-deep in your own.”

A short, sharp laugh of disbelief escaped my lips. “Oh, so because I’m not a saint myself, I don’t get to do the right thing and protect the mother and son you left vulnerable when they inconvenienced you? What should I do instead? Sit back and enjoy the heartless-gutless-excuse-of-a-father-who-now-wants-to-be-the-world’s-best-daddy show?”

No one saved me early enough. Even though I survived, I will always know the difference. Zach doesn’t have to.

His blue eyes flared with a furious fire. “I doubt that my storyline would be half as entertaining as yours and Brandon’s when the world finds out that the great, infallible Maxfield heir paid an ambitious yet penniless diner girl a million dollars to marry him and play house for a year. I still have your contract burning a hole through my desk, thanks to your housekeeper whose loyalties you should’ve paid extra for when you had the chance. The new yet highly-celebrated Mrs. Maxfield is no one special—just an extremely expensive, long-lease hooker.”