The Mischievous Mrs. Maxfield

Chapter Six: Meet The Maxfields

"You're crazy, Charlotte. Crazy and stupid and in big trouble."

I opened my eyes and stared at my reflection in the mirror again.

It was Sunday morning and I had just finished getting ready for brunch with the Maxfields. I wasn't sure whether I was supposed to dress casually as Martin had seen me before, or dress up so that I looked like an appropriate bride for his son. In the end, I went with the outfit that Felicty and Armina picked out for me—happy to not have to make a choice of my own in the end.

It was a sleeveless, eggshell-pink shift dress cinched at the waist with a thin, dark pink leather belt and I paired it up with nude, high-heeled pumps made comfortable by two-inch platforms. I encouraged the natural wave in my hair with some light mousse as per Clyde's recommendation and let it hang loose around my shoulders. As for my face, I simply dabbed on some blush, flicked on some mascara and swiped a strawberry lip-balm across my mouth. 

I looked like a perfect lady and decided that it wasn't right because it didn't look like me at all.

For fun, I layered on a string of pearls and my old, long necklace with a dainty skull-shaped pendant and opted for my favorite denim wristlet instead of the fancy clutch Armina paired up with this outfit. I replaced the pretty belt with a black, single-grommet leather one I've had for years.

Satisfied, I headed out of the bedroom, grabbing my new, cropped denim jacket along the way.

Brandon had already arrived, dressed in dark jeans, a navy blue sweater and a cognac-colored leather bomber jacket. He was devastating and if I were weak, I'd combust on the spot. Unfortunately, I might not get away without at least a slow burning.

 He was talking with Gilles in the kitchen and the two men's conversation halted when they saw me. 

"I'll get the car ready," Gilles said with a small nod before turning to go and leaving Brandon alone by the kitchen island. 

"Where's your driver?" I asked, looking around the house. "I didn't get to meet him."

"He just dropped me off and will meet me back at Dad's house," Brandon answered distractedly as he walked around and circled me in inspection. 

He kept circling me like a hawk, saying nothing, that my patience snapped. I was still testy from our conversation last night and if he had plans to send me back to my room and change, I'd tell him he and his brunch could go to hell.

"What?" I demanded.

"I'm pretty sure Armina knew better than to get you skull accessories," he commented, his expression giving nothing away as he took a step back, his finger lightly brushing the pendant that rested on the swell of my breasts. 

The warmth of his touch seeped through the thin fabric of my dress and gave me a dizzying rush but I shook my head, determined not to let his fleeting intimacies succeed in disarming me. 

"It's mine and it's staying on," I said stubbornly, moving away from him as if it were the only way to stand my ground. "I didn't get a choice in what you got me for clothes so if I choose to play it up, I'll do it and you're not changing my mind."

I refused to let my gaze waver from him, refusing to stand down, but he caught me off guard when he just grinned and tugged at a lock of my hair playfully. 

"Okay," was all he said before he grasped me gently by the elbow and ushered me to the door. 

I was still reeling from his reaction as we sat together in the backseat of the car on the way to Martin's house. I couldn't muster any kind of conversation.