I don't own these characters, or anything else. I'm borrowing them. I promise to leave them in a better condition than I found them.
The seagulls squawked loudly above Mercedes as she tried to focus on the sound of the waves crashing on the sand. The irrepressible summer heat made her retreat behind her big aviator glasses and even bigger big floppy hat, finding respite in her book. It was her summer vacation and all she wanted was to go back inside and work but her aunt had other plans.
This summer was spent at her aunt's house on a small beach town in Virginia. She had visited every summer since she was ten and she loved every minute of it, well except the crowds. Every year got progressively worse as college students and families flocked to the already overpopulated beach. She planned on spending the day at the local boutique where she'd been working since she was 15, but her aunt got her manager to let her out. She persuaded the older woman into letting Mercedes 'have fun and be a teenager.'
So here she was, shifting uncomfortably in a beach chair that kept sticking to her legs in the scorching summer heat. She'd rather be making money but she knew her aunt's heart was in the right place. Besides, it might be nice to just lay around doing nothing.
Her eyes were focused on her book, just like her mind was focused on colleges and applications. She had everything mapped out and nothing was going to derail her future—she was to major in political science, get an internship in her final year, and apply to grad school for international affairs. A couple of years and a master's degree later, she would work for the U.N. or world affairs council. No worries, no confusion about her future, and no possibilities. She never did anything without a reason or purpose, never deviated from her plans, always played it safe. These were her rules and she was more than content to follow them.
Little did she know, sometimes veering off the map and descending into chaos can bring unexpected surprises.
Glancing at her watch she closed her book and smiled. 2 hours. She gave this event the modicum of time allowed to appease her aunt. 2 hours—no more, no less. Now she could go inside where sand wasn't rubbing against her feet like sandpaper and the sun wasn't melting her legs to this chair. She gripped her book in one hand and the chair in another. This was her favorite part about going to the beach…leaving it. Still she could hear the laughter and chattering of people a few years older than her and felt a slight twinge of jealousy. It must be nice, to run around with reckless abandon. She sighed and grabbed the chair tighter when a sharp object hit the back of her knee and propelled her forward. The chair broke her fall, although the force of it caused her beloved sunglasses to break. To top it all off she fell with her face firmly planted…in the sand. Yeah, she was definitely wishing she went to work today.
More embarrassed than anything she quickly tried to gather the chair and book when she felt sand kicking at her back as assumed someone approached.
"Oh I'm so sorry miss, are you okay?" The low deep timbre confirmed her suspicions.
The only thing worse than falling was drawing attention to it. As she nodded and tried to stand on her own a large, pale and calloused hand reached out to help her up.
Without assessing the risks or the proper rules of the situation she grabbed his hand, instinctively wrapping hers around it.
Part of her wanted to crawl in a hole and hide but another part, which she refused to acknowledge, wanted to never let his hand go. An even larger part wanted those large pale hands roaming a lot lower than they were now. What the hell was wrong with her? She blamed the sun. Always a worrier, she was aware these types of notions led to girls being missing and then found dead in ditches days later. Okay, maybe she was exaggerating, but the fact remained, nothing good could come of this.
Wiping the sand from her cheek she winced as she tried to stand up gracefully. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine."
He took his thumb and removed the final remnants of sand from her face. She tensed at first but soon relaxed into his touch. It was then she chose to finally look him in the eyes. She wished she didn't because once she did she couldn't stop. She knew she was in trouble.
It was all therin his eyes—his kindness, patience and compassion. His gentleness, his care. It was all on display and it was all for her.
They stood there for a minute—him worrying his bottom lip to concentrate on cleaning her face and her gawking at his eyes. After what felt like forever she tore her gaze from his and scurried off.
Sam rubbed the back of his neck as he watched her walk off. The first thing he noticed was the book she was reading. It was one of his favorites. He was going to talk to her about it, offer to help her carry her things, but she was gone before the words could leave his mouth. She intrigued him, made him take notice. He thought she was adorable, if not a little out of place. Honestly, he didn't know what to think of her, but he did know she left before he had time to form an opinion.
Mercedes sat strumming her nails on the counter and flipping through one of the many dress catalogues in the store. In her hand was the keys to the shop which she twirled around her pointer finger. Tuesdays were always the worst and this Tuesday was just dead. Adding to it was the unrelenting rain outside. Luckily she was just nearing the end of her shift. She could go back to her aunt's and look at some more colleges.
She closed the book quickly when she heard the bell on the door jingle. Looking up she wished for more cause those same eyes she met yesterday were looking back at her.
She couldn't help the feeling of dread that washed over her. She needed her rules and routines, clung to them even. It was the only way she could make sense of the world. The only way she could ensure she wouldn't get hurt.
It was as if her body was alerting her to the fact that his presence would disturb her routine. That he could turn every priority she clung to on its head. That this disturbance could lead to distraction. And this distraction could spiral into chaos and lead to her ruin.
In an unnecessary display of fear she decided flight was her best option. She put her head down and tried to make her way to the back without being seen. Unfortunately she was uncoordinated and instead slammed into his broad chest. It took her a minute to open her eyes and right herself. He probably thought she was a mess. Well, she was.
"You dropped this." He handed her the keys she didn't realize she dropped.
The smile on her face was forced, contrived. Still he had done nothing wrong and she had no reason not to remain cordial. It wasn't his fault she overanalyzed everything. "Thanks."
She tried to walk away but her short legs were no match for his much longer ones. He easily strode alongside her in the small shop.
"How's your knee?" He pointed to the little bruise and winced a little. She forgot all about it.
"It's fine." Her attempt at showing him so lost its meaning when she stiffened a bit. "Can hardly feel a thing." Sighing she slid behind the cash register, aching for some distance. She was completely aware of how spastic she was acting but she couldn't stop. No matter how loud that voice in her head was begging her to.
Sam looked up and smiled at her, relieved his original assumption about this girl was correct—she was adorable.
Once behind the counter she went right back into work mode, never missing a beat. "How may I help you today sir?"
She was so guarded, and he wondered what happened in her life to make her that way. But bigger questions loomed in his mind. Like why did it matter? Why was it so important to talk to this girl? To see her smile? Why did it feel that his happiness hinged on hers? She was for all intents and purposes a stranger. Why did she feel so familiar? And moreover why did all of his recent thoughts go back to her?
"Sir?"
Shaking his self from his thoughts, he responded. "Oh right. Sorry." He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and slid it on the counter. "I'm here to pick up some clothes for my mom."
Mercedes smiled as she noticed the name on the slip. Mary Evans had been her favorite customer this summer. The woman was kind, smart, and an excellent advice-giver. She would spend hours with the stylish woman, always enjoying her company. She wasn't sure, but she always thought Mrs. Evans may have nudged her aunt into asking for her day off.
"Your mom is Mary Evans?" Looking up at him, she gasped slightly as his proximity. He leaned onto the counter his face inches from hers. His grin told her everything she needed to know. Like the effect his nearness was having on her.
She cleared her throat and backed away a little. "Your mom's amazing."
He pointed to himself then and winked. "Like mother like son."
He was cute, she had to give him that. "I'm sure." Excusing herself, she went into the back and went to look for Mrs. Evans' order.
"I wonder how many people I have looked at all my life and never really seen."
She walked to the front slowly, her arms full. Was he really quoting her favorite book? And he did it so casually, like he was reading food off a menu. If she wasn't sure before, she was certain now…Sam Evans was trouble.
"What did you say?" Her voice was soft, but it didn't belie her intensity.
He rubbed his neck and looked into her eyes. He didn't know why but he was nervous. "That's my favorite quote."
She dropped the garment bags on the counter and stepped closer to him. She wasn't going to fight whatever pull she felt towards him. "That's my favorite book."
He smiled, a little relieved she didn't run away. "Mine too."
Not saying a word she regarded him for a moment, the same as she had at the beach, only this time she looked into his eyes. He loved the way they lit up. It was a sight he would see more often if he had his way.
Catching herself she cleared her throat and handed him the bags. "That'll be 485.77, sir."
"Sam."
"Excuse me?"
"The name's Sam. Sam Evans. You know, as opposed to 'sir'." He handed her his credit card, loving how flustered he made her.
She took it and smiled at him, then handed him the receipt to sign. "Please tell your mother I said hello Sam."
After he signed and handed her the receipt. "You can tell her yourself if you'd like. We're having a family barbeque next week. I'm sure she'd love to see you."
Shaking her head she tried to decline politely. "Sorry, but I can't. I have to work."
Taking a chance he leaned forward and whispered in her ear. "But I haven't even told you what day it'll be."
She tried to hide her face in her hands, hoping it would make her invisible. He had her there. Trying to recover, she responded with: "I meant I have to work all week so I probably won't be able to go."
"Well, let me give my number in case you change your mind. It would be great if you could be there, you know, for my mom."
"I'll see," she responded diplomatically. He already knew she wanted to say no, she didn't have to be ruder about it.
He gripped the bags tighter and walked backwards towards the door. "That wasn't a no."
She raised an eyebrow, "That wasn't a yes either."
Placing a hand over his heart he pretended to be wounded but her words. In reality, they gave him hope. "We'll see." He waved at her and left the store.
Looking down at the receipt he noticed her name. Mercedes. It wasn't a typical name, but it suited her. He wanted to know more about her, he wouldn't give up now. Prepared to be wooed Mercedes.