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Maxwell took a deep breath as he knocked on the door. He hadn’t felt this nervous since… since his first-ever show. He wrung his hands before dropping them to his side, putting on his calm facade as her voice came through the door.
“Come in.”
He turned the knob and walked over to where she was standing in the middle of the room. Charlie was dressed and ready for their show tonight, she didn’t spare him a glance as she seemed to be reading an envelope.
Maxwell cleared his throat, hand impulsively adjusting his tie as he opened his mouth to speak—
“So, Maxwell isn’t your real name?” Charlie looked up at him with an eyebrow raised.
Maxwell froze with his jaw hanging open and his hand grasping his tie.
No, no, no, this isn’t how he intended to tell her—
His eyes landed on the letter she was holding up; ‘William Carter’ was written clearly on the envelope. It was probably from Jack, delivered to her dressing room by mistake.
He snatched the letter from her hands— perhaps a bit harder than he intended to, and pocketed it in his suit. He looked down at Charlie and saw that she had her arms crossed, looking at him with a prodding expression.
There was no getting out of this one.
Why did he have to be enamoured by such a witty young woman?
Well, at least she didn’t seem to be cross. Perhaps even a bit intrigued, which made his panic cease.
“What?” He relented, expression softening under her now fully curious gaze.
“Why ‘Maxwell’? William is a perfectly fine name.”
“I needed something a little more…” he squared his shoulders, “…intimidating.”
Charlie’s eyebrow only rose higher.
“For the stage,” Maxwell quickly added.
Her gloved hand went up to cover her lips as she burst into a fit of giggles.
Great. Now she was laughing at him.
Maxwell felt his cheeks redden in embarrassment.
This really wasn’t how it was supposed to go—
“Oh Maxy,” Charlie stepped forward and adjusted the rose on his lapel. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t help but draw in a shaky breath at the proximity. “You’re not the least bit intimidating.”
Maxwell scrunched up his nose.
“At all?” He asked. Really, he should be offended. All the hard work put into this confident stage persona…
“At all.” She still had mirth in her eyes as she stepped back and crossed her arms. “Maybe a little bit mysterious,” the accusatory look was back, “Anything else I should know about you?”
There was that heat on his face again—
Wait, this was his chance! It wasn’t quite how he had planned, but Maxwell knew he was one to take opportunities in the direst of circumstances. He adjusted his tie nervously but his voice didn’t waver as he spoke:
“Perhaps if you’d accompany me to dinner, I could tell you.”
Charlie giggled again, a rosy blush tinting her cheeks.
“So smooth…” a mischievous glint in her eyes, “…Willy.”
“Charlie!” Maxwell scowled, though not showing any malice. (Even if he did the woman didn’t find him intimidating anyway.) Nobody has ever called him that nickname, save for his brother.
She burst into fits of giggles again and Maxwell had only a split second to register that she was standing on her tiptoes to peck him on the cheek.
Maxwell froze for the second time.
“Sure, Maxy. Dinner sounds wonderful.” She patted his arm and skipped off to the door. She looked back when he didn’t follow. “Come on, we have a show to run!”
“R-right.” Maxwell cleared his throat and squared his shoulders, releasing a relieved sigh. He only hoped that he wouldn’t end up revealing too much about himself— a magician should never reveal his secrets, after all…
Well, maybe his assistant was an exception.
(And if The Amazing Maxwell had a faint lipstick stain on his cheek that night, well, no one said a thing.)