The Mischievous Mrs. Maxfield

Chapter Thirty-Four: The Harrowing Road to Happily-Ever-Afters

I'd just come out of the shower when I heard an insistent rapping on my door. 

It was four-thirty in the afternoon and I'd checked off my entire to-do list for the party. I was ready to get dressed, order in some Chinese food and maybe watch an old movie.

With my hair still wrapped in a towel, I slipped on my old, oversized robe and walked to the door.

Keeping the chain on, I propped the door open only to find four or five faces trying to cram themselves into my view.

Anna, Tessa, Felicity, Layla and Simone were all standing there, grinning broadly at me.

My mind still trying to process the sight, I opened the door completely but before I could even get a word out, they swarmed in, talking all at the same time.

All five women were dressed fabulously, a bright, cheerful palette of colours in their beautiful and extravagant ball gowns. Clyde announced himself right behind them with an outlandish hello, pecking me on each cheek before dropping his giant make-up box on the floor.

"Oh, you've just showered—perfect!" he said as he yanked the towel from my hair. "Felicity dear, grab her a chair, will you? We've got no time to waste."

"Time for what?" I demanded as Clyde steered me by the shoulders and pushed me down one of the dining chairs that Felicity dragged over. "What are you all doing here? The party isn't at my house!"

"A quick detour, sis," Anna said as she pulled at the belt of my robe, untying it with one twist and exposing me in my cute but cotton underwear. She arched a brow at me in amusement. "Purple watermelons, really? You're not twelve."

"Good thing we planned this to the last detail," Tessa said as she set down a large, wide box on the coffee table with Simone and Layla's help. "We were a little late because of a slight change in plans but I think it worked out perfectly, didn't it?"

She winked at Layla and Simone who smiled back mischievously before Felicity peeled off a small envelope on top of the box and handed it to me.

It was expensive, beautiful white linen paper with my name scrawled in bold, familiar strokes on the back.

With trembling hands, I opened it and drew out a small note card that simply said:

Charlotte,

I am no prince if not yours.

Brandon

I bit my bottom lip to keep down a sob but Simone waved a tissue in front of me.

"None of that now," she said as I dabbed my eyes dry. "You don't want to have red, swollen eyes at the ball."

"But I'm not going to the party," I said as I got up on my feet, only to be promptly pushed back down into my seat by Clyde. "I have to get dressed. I have to go talk to Brandon."

"You will—at the ball," Layla answered. "Read further down, will you?"

I didn't even notice it at the bottom of the page. 

He simply wrote the date, time and the venue of the ball with the line: I will wait for you.

My heart pounding, I re-read the entire note, trying to make sense of it.

"Bessy came to see Brandon earlier today to tell him what really happened before she left for Florida for good," Layla said slowly, touching me on the arm. "She thought this was the least she could do after all that you've done for her."

My heart squeezed at Bessy's kindness—the first and perhaps the last of it that I'll ever see in this lifetime—but I didn't miss the implications of her actions.