A/N: Hi everyone! Thanks for catching up on Brandon's newest journal entry. This covers chapters 18-20 in TMMM, during Charlotte's catastrophic brunch party with the Championettes. Hope you enjoy.

***

My life, in the past few days, could be mildly termed as heaven.

Jake has called me disgustingly happy a couple times and I was in such a good mood I couldn't even bring myself to cuff him in the head for that. He won't get it until it happens to him.

And because I've been in such a magnanimous state, I thought I could forgive anything.

Apparently not because I'm seething right now.

First, there's Simone's call.

First of all, I'm surprised that Charlotte even told me about it. There had been nothing stopping her from answering the call and just telling Simone to go to hell. I haven't cut her out of my life completely although after the incident at the engagement party, I know it's wiser to at least avoid her company whenever possible.

Seeing Simone doesn't really affect me in any certain way—definitely not the way it used to. I see her and I just... well, see her.

You can call it indifference, I guess. But it was more for Charlotte's sake that I'd just rather keep out of her way.

Not that Charlotte has anything to worry about. But she'll worry about it anyway.

I know this because even after Charlotte's admission, and after knowing, even without the words then, that she only felt this way about me, it didn't stop me from wanting to wring the neck of any guy who got too close to her.

Anyway, I wanted that conversation with Simone to be as brief as possible because I suspected it was going to sound very much like our last phone call—her telling me to get out of this 'charade' with Charlotte. I thought maybe she would change tactic this time and blackmail me into leaving Charlotte if I didn't want the truth to come out.

I was prepared for that. I don't care if it comes out. If not for the very likely possibility that Charlotte is going to be horrified, I would rather it came out. Then it will give me a chance to make it very publicly clear that Charlotte and I have come a long way since we first struck our deal.

This was no marriage of convenience. Nor is it a business arrangement.

There was nothing that convenient about our set up and neither of us were in it for the money anymore.

We're here together even if it's hard and complicated for the price of keeping what we unexpectedly found with each other.

I didn't get a hold of Simone. I just left her a message. I was happy not to hear back from her. With a busy week ahead, I never even thought of her again.

Finally, the Championettes deemed my wife acceptable to their sassy little club and officially made her a member.

What utter garbage.

Charlotte didn't need the Championettes—not when she can build her own charity group bigger and far more well-funded than that of Boston's spoiled sorority.

Sure, that makes me sound like an arrogant ass but my wife is someone I will never stint my pride on so whatever. Arrogant it is if it means doing what is well within my power, and my money, to give Charlotte.

But I did't say or do anything because I knew it would mean a lot to Charlotte to get back in there and prove every single one of them wrong. She can handle it. Besides, she's got an ally. Melissa may be a nice woman but she's from a family as old and as rich as the very rock Boston sits on. She would make a very compelling champion for my wife.

And just as I suspected, the temperature in that brunch was a bit frosty toward Charlotte. Glacial, was more like it.

It's her first public appearance as the much revered Mrs. Maxfield and while some people have definitely decided on how to feel about her, there was still a big majority left undecided. Without intervening too much, I made sure to make my rounds, talking business and getting social while ensuring that everyone knew just what a proud, happy husband I was.

Sure, some people were going to roll their eyes at me but they'd be far and few between. Not even the most highly vocal of critics would dare to be rude in my face. I'm not above using the weight of my very financially and politically heavy hand to further my cause. Like any Maxfield man, I'm a gentleman—mostly—but I'm a man with a certain persuasion that you wouldn't want working against you.

And I made sure everyone in the party knew that—including dear cousin Francis who might have set up his enemy camp right between Simone's legs.

I honestly don't care who she dates. In fact, I wish her well on that department. That's not why I was pissed off at seeing her with Francis. If they could both say they found true love with each other and not a common enemy, I'll buy them a wedding present and wish them all the best. But I know for a fact that the only reason Simone's with Francis is because he's found a way to use her to his advantage. And like a sulking child whose toy got snatched away, Simone's letting him do it. If she thinks she's safe from the kind of damage he could inflict, she's dead wrong.

But my talk with her had to wait until I could assure myself that my wife was going to survive the day. At first I didn't notice because Charlotte's good at that—picking herself back up and marching on like nothing happened. Then the series of pranks became a little more obvious. At one point, I was going to just flat out confront her about it because I was quite ready to pound people into the ground but Mrs. Rossiter, a tough, influential old lady Charlotte had unwittingly impressed, stayed my hand, telling me that my wife is stronger than anyone thinks and she should be allowed to show it—at least long enough for other people to realize the mistake they're making about her.

I tried to keep an eye on Charlotte, hoping to deter any more accidents from falling on her, but Simone found me before I could make time to find her and pulled me to the side to urgently warn me away from my wife. She said someone's sniffing around the truth and that if I didn't want to be eyeballs deep in this mess, I should start putting some distance between it and myself. I bluntly told her that maybe I wouldn't have to worry about any of this if she'd kept her mouth shut around Francis. He made enough implied threats to make me believe that yes, he might be onto something. Francis is forever digging to find dirt on me but I'm usually ahead of him so I wasn't worried.

Simone insisted she didn't tell him anything. That he was just being a nice guy. I had to break it to her, and not so gently, that Francis isn't anyone's idea of a nice guy. His head was stuck in his ass so deep all he can see and say and do is sh*t.

Yes, I am that furious with him.

Simone wouldn't give me any more information than what she hinted at. She said she didn't want to stir any trouble; just wanted to warn me. I scoffed at that. Charlotte would more than stir the pot—she would tip it over and back if necessary to right a situation, even if she got scalded in the process.

I used to appreciate a woman's ability to compromise with me and now I see it clearly. It wasn't that I liked women who compromised—I liked women who followed my orders without argument and that was a sorry preference, for both parties. I was just getting away with everything which in turn didn't let me appreciate anything of value anymore and the women became nothing more than a puppet who will never step outside their box and risk never getting back in. Charlotte's more than capable of compromise—in fact, sometimes she can be too generous—but she wasn't the type to cower and let you have your way if you're in the wrong. She's a brave little thing and I never knew how sexy that kind of bold courage in a woman can be until I met her.

And yes, that courage proved to be both her bane and blessing this week and despite the kind of mental and emotional stress she put me through, having to stand back and watch her prove herself, I still love her all the more for it—a point I made clear with Simone when she ran out of arguments and resorted to launching herself at me.

The unfortunate thing was that Charlotte was there to see the whole fiasco.

The fortunate thing was that despite her obvious struggle to see beyond Simone's stunt, her determination to believe in us, in me, won out. Even if it took a silly argument about Twinkies and chocolate mousse cake to get her to that point.

Trust Charlotte to find a metaphor inside the cellophane wrapper of a celebrated, if not once heavily commercialized, American dessert.

Chocolate mousse cake does sound more appetizing but I think, after today, I'll be the kind of man who'll have Twinkies in his pocket to sustain him through his gruelling day as a busy business executive. I should tell Charlotte that. She might find it funny.

Anyway, back to what felt like the longest day of my life...

While I like to think that I've majorly contributed in Charlotte's good standing with the large percentage of the brunch party after that day, in the end, she came to undo the damage the Championettes wanted to heap over her head all by herself and I couldn't be any prouder.

Yes, she didn't go gorilla on the other women even after they provoked her well past the point of civility. She fought back like she always did—with one smart but sharp set-down after another and her usual creative twist in turning whatever they said or did against them. I've seen her do it so many times she could probably teach a course.

Luckily, people noticed.

And instead of seeing Charlotte in the kind of unflattering light the Championettes wanted to cast on her, they saw her to be tenacious force she could definitely be when people try to shove her aside. The kind of force that could lead a charity group stuck in high school.

Thanks to Mrs. Rossiter's secret tally of the Championettes' pranks—all cruel, crude and incredibly childish dozen of them—and her steely ultimatum, the rest of the party rallied behind Charlotte that she went from being a junior member to the chairwoman.

But Charlotte being Charlotte, she wasn't happy to just let her poor, defeated rival limp away to hide in shame. She had to torture them by forcing them to work with her closely.

I pity Layla.

I pity Simone.

I pity all the women who couldn't see outside of their pretty little dollhouse lives.

For all the superior knowledge they feel they possess and the power they think they wield, they still have much to learn from a nineteen-year-old, blue-green-eyed and eternally smiling ex-waitress who lived a far richer life in a world that didn't easily give her the means for it.

- B

***

So, what do you think?

And can we just say... Charlotte's pretty badass? And Brandon's got sass? Wow, that rhymed. LOL!

Anyway, hope you guys are all having a great summer so far (if it is summer where you are). Till the next post!

P.S. I'm not usually as big a fan of mainstream pop but this song is too perfect. I actually enjoy Katy Perry's version but I prefer acoustic most of the time. 

XOXO!

-Ninya

♪♪♪ Chapter Soundtrack: Roar by Katy Perry (Cover by Boyce Avenue feat. Bea Miller) ♪♪♪

I used to bite my tongue and hold my breath

Scared to rock the boat and make a mess

So I sat quietly, agree politely

I guess that I forgot I had a choice

I let you push me past the breaking point

I stood for nothing, so I fell for everything

You held me down, but I got up (HEY!)

Already brushing off the dust

You hear my voice, you hear that sound

Like thunder gonna shake the ground

You held me down, but I got up (HEY!)

Get ready 'cause I've had enough

I see it all, I see it now

[Chorus:]

I got the eye of the tiger, a fighter, dancing through the fire

'Cause I am a champion and you're gonna hear me roar

Louder, louder than a lion

'Cause I am a champion and you're gonna hear me roar

Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh

Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh

Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh

You're gonna hear me roar