Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of its characters.

A/N1: Hey all! This chapter took longer for me to write than I thought, and I'm sorry for that. Anyways, I just wanted to say thank you to all of you who reviewed, alerted, favorited, or only read the previous chapter! It makes me so happy that someone's reading!

I got a comment that said that she's read something that reminded of my story. The answer to that is that I actually don't know if someone else has written this. This was a prompt from Finchel-prompts. Sorry if I forgot to mention that in the first chapter.

Also there was a comment that said that Rachel doesn't really have to be a part of this marriage because she's 25 and can decide for herself. My simple answer to that is that this is a story and anything can happen! Also I really didn't want Rachel to be like 17 or something like that, 'cause that would have been weird.

I hope I didn't sound rude or anything, and if I did, I'm sorry. Again, thank you for reading!

All mistakes are mine! Enjoy!


Love me for me
Chapter two: Meeting with a stranger


[Manhattan, New York City - May 8th 2019]

"Seriously Thomas, I'm bored," Rachel exclaimed from where she was lying on her belly on the unbelievably clean floor. She had currently been reading the only book she took with her when she moved out of Lima, a Barbra Streisand biography, to pass time, and it had worked well as a time-killer for a day or two, but when reading it over and over again until she could recite the whole book in her sleep because there's nothing else to do in the damn house, it's boring.

She groaned loudly and closed the book with a loud thud and sat up, holding her book. She looked down on the floor where she had been lying barely five seconds ago, and she was sure she could see how her torso had molded the floor.

Thomas entered the big living room, in his suit with not a wrinkle in sight as usual, holding a cup of steaming hot coffee in his hands. Rachel's lips curled into a smile and she lay down the biography in her lap. She reached for the cup and took it when Thomas gave it to her. "How did you know?" she asked, sipping on the dark brown liquid that was floating around in her cup. She hummed happily as the taste of coffee spread in her mouth. She didn't really know when her favorite beverage became coffee, but all of a sudden she couldn't go through a day without at least two cups.

"Would you like something else, miss Berry?" Thomas asked politely, looking down at the tiny woman with his dark blue eyes. Rachel shook her head as she took another gulp of her coffee.

"No, but thanks for the coffee," she said, standing up on her bare feet, careful not to spill out her coffee. She ruffled a hand through her brown hair and took another sip from the cup. She looked over her shoulder, out through the window that stretched from the floor to the floor above and saw the silhouette of New York, not so far away.

"Is it fine with you if I drive into the city for a while?" she asked suddenly. She wanted to do something, so why not strolling around on the streets of the Big Apple for an hour or two. Maybe she could even rent a movie or something to take home, so she could have something else to do than reading about Barbra, even though she loved her.

Thomas nodded, his hands tied behind his back like always. "Yes, of course, Miss Berry. Would you like me to drive you?"

She wiggled her cup a little, considering his offer. Being driven in the black limousine would of course be wonderful, with the clean white seats and the bar, but she wouldn't travel long, the city was only twenty minutes away. And the limo would be an extreme attention-drawer and Rachel didn't really feel like being in the spotlight for the first time in her life. So she shook her head.

"No thank you, Thomas. I rather go there by myself, if that's okay?" she said, and Thomas nodded immediately. "Actually, does this house have any car I can borrow?"

Thomas smiled at her. "Yes, it does. And you don't have to ask me about permission to use it, it's yours."

Thomas handed Rachel a car key and what she thought was a key to the garage, and in exchange Rachel gave him her still half full coffee mug and her book. "Thank you very much," she said and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, careful not to wrinkle his suit. Thomas bowed his head respectfully towards her. "No problem at all, miss Berry."

She let her hand drop from his shoulder before she walked past him towards the grand foyer. But right before she exited the living room, she heard Thomas' voice call. "Miss Berry, I did just remember. You have a wedding dress trial with fashion designer Kurt Hummel this afternoon at three. Please wait here a second so I can write down the address for you."

Rachel sighed as Thomas started scribbling down the address on a piece of yellow paper. Right, her wedding. The exact date of the wedding had been set yesterday, Saturday July 16th, and Rachel just wanted to disappear from the surface of earth. She wasn't ready for marriage. At least not a marriage where she didn't know the groom. She took the paper from Thomas when he was done and after throwing a quick look at it she stuffed it in her jean pocket. She said one last thank you and goodbye before she turned around.

She walked into the big grand foyer and glanced around the room. She was still awestruck by the fantastic work they must had put into building it, because it looked amazing. Everything seemed to glister in the bright sunlight that shone through the clean windows and it felt like she was standing in one of those rooms she'd only seen in Disney movies when she was little.

When she'd put on her only pair of shoes, a pair of short, light green wedges, she grabbed her coat and purse and exited her big white house through the broad double doors. When she was standing on the doorstep she drew a deep breath of the clear air. The fragrances of grass and flowers mixed together with a distant smell of the busy city New York swirled around her. She could sense the summer come crawling, and she was really happy about that. Summer had always been her favorite season. Birds singing, blue skies, and boiling hot days where she can just lie outside and let the sun tan her skin. It's wonderful.

She walked around the house to a smaller building she believed was the garage. She picked up the garage door key she'd gotten from Thomas from the left pocket of her jacket. She pressed the button with an arrow that pointed upwards, assuming it would be the one that made the garage door to go up. And fortunately it did, and she lifted one perfect eyebrow of surprise when she saw the car.

It was definitely the fanciest car she'd ever seen, and probably the most expensive too. It was a black car, a Porsche she believed. She'd never really been that interested in cars, but her daddy was kind of. When she was little he sometimes got her small replica toys of different cars for her to play with when he was out on a business trip or something like that. It was really nothing, since she threw them away at the age of eight when she thought that they were too 'boyish'. But some of the car brands got themselves stuck in the back of her brain somewhere and they never really left.

Rachel stroke her fingers against the black paint, grazing from the yellow, red and black colored mark to the shiny black handle. She opened the car door and the corners of her mouth turned upwards. She could now see the inside of the car, that had been hidden behind dark toned windows. The seats were made of white leather, just like in the limousine. Even though there wasn't any bar in it, it was just as fancy with its all new, modern things. She couldn't really decide if she was incredibly disgusted by the fact that her 'fiancé' had the money, that would soon be her money too, to pursue a car like this, or just happy that she's the owner of it.

The smell of new car was flying around her, where she sat in the drivers seat. She threw her purse on the passenger seat beside her and fished up her car key from her pocket.

She started the engine, and let it run for a couple of seconds before she lightly pressed her foot against the gas pedal and drove out of the garage. She stopped right when she was fully out of the small building so she could close the garage door with the remote.

The 20 minutes it took for her to drive to the city was peaceful, nothing to complain about. Maybe the selection of music was a little thin since she didn't really enjoy any of the radio stations but she survived.

She parked in a parking house, not far from Central Park. When she was out on the streets of New York for the second time in her life she felt whole. New York was her real home, and it had always been, she just knew it.

The walk to the nearest shop that was renting out movies wasn't long. She quickly rented her favorite movie of all times, Funny Girl, before she practically ran out of the shop, totally creeped out by the guy behind the counter who looked like he was dressing her off with his cat green eyes.

She picked up her phone from her purse to check what time it was. Even though she was all against the marriage she didn't want to be late for her dress trial. She sighed out a breath she didn't even know she was holding when she saw that her phone only said 1:13 and that she had plenty of time to grab a coffee on the way. She felt like she was really in need of one.

She ended up at Starbucks, not far from where she would meet up with the designer Kurt Hummel. The coffee shop was misty and low voices turned into a buzz that came from all directions. She walked towards the line of people that had formed in front of the counter, waiting for their coffee.

Rachel placed herself in the line, and picked up her phone and wallet from her purse and decided to check her e-mail and messages while she was waiting. She'd gotten like four messages from her dads and an e-mail from the owners of the apartment she used to rent in Lima. She was just about to open it and read when she heard a loud, quite bitchy 'hello?' from behind the counter. Rachel looked up from her phone, and her cheeks turned red when she noticed that she was first in line, and even more people were filling up behind her. The girl behind the counter was staring at Rachel with her arms crossed over her rather impressive chest. The girl was a beautiful Latina with black shiny hair tied back into a neat ponytail. She wore a cream colored blouse with a matching skirt that showed off her nice, tanned legs. The name-tag on her shirt was saying 'Santana' with big bold letters, so her name was probably Santana.

Santana had a bored expression on her pretty face and her dark brown eyes were boring themselves into hers. Rachel almost felt the urge to take a step backwards but instead she tried to shake the feeling off and order, no matter how much the girl scared her.

Rachel cleared her throat before she began speaking. "Eh, a vegan Vanilla Frappuccino, please."

Rachel smiled a little when she said those words. Usually she doesn't give in to treats like these ones and only orders regular black coffee, but she thought that once or twice when she was in the kind of situation when she gets married to someone she didn't know, she kind of thought that she deserved it.

Santana started to mix her coffee together, and Rachel didn't really feel like she could do anything else than look down on the floor.

"What's with you, Midget? You look like someone just hit you in the face."

Rachel looked up from where the feminine voice had come from and it was Santana whom had spoken to her. Rachel frowned a little when she realized that she'd called her midget. Sure, she's not tall but not so short she deserved being called midget.

"Excuse me?" Rachel asked the Latina behind the counter. Santana answered with a low humming sound as she continued with Rachel's coffee. "I don't like being called Midget, thank you very much. And I haven't been slapped in the face, just so you know."

Santana finished making her coffee and placed it on the counter in front of her. The hot beverage splattered around in its protection made of plastic. "Here's your coffee, Midget," she said before she looked over Rachel's shoulder at the customer behind her. "Next!"

Rachel snorted and payed her before she picked up her mug. How could someone be so rude to her when they'd only just met?

She was just about to take a sip of her coffee when she saw a note on her mug, the text written with a black marker pen. 'Call me! 917-562-256. Santana xoxo' Rachel rolled her eyes when she read the note, bringing the warm mug to her mouth. Calling someone names and then giving out her number is a weird way of getting a date. But, maybe the people in New York are different from the people in Lima?

Rachel opened the door so she could have her coffee outside in the nice May weather, but she walked right into something broad and hard. The next thing that happened was that she stumbled backwards and her coffee mug flew out of her hand and landed right on the stranger before her. The lid flew off and she heard how the stranger hissed a quiet 'shit' as the hot drink touched his skin. When Rachel gained back balance she looked up at the strange man.

He was tall, and his shoulders and chest were broad and muscular. He couldn't be much older than her, and his face was very handsome, with its boyish features. His eyes were soft and whiskey colored and they glimmered in the light from the lamps in the ceiling. His hair was hazel brown and it was nicely styled into a fin that His face was splattered with freckles and birthmarks and he was looking down at his coffee-stained blue T-shirt and dark jeans.

Rachel's hand flew up to her mouth. She stared at him, both because he was really good looking and because she'd just drowned him in a low-fat vegan coffee. "I'm so sorry!" she squeaked, finally coming back to life. The tall stranger looked down at her as she began to desperately, without much success, wipe the coffee off his clothes with the sleeves of her red coat. To her surprise he chuckled, and Rachel stopped moving her arm, realizing what she was doing. She was standing in a coffee shop, trying to clean a strangers shirt with her sleeves. She slowly stood up straight and looked down on the floor, her cheeks reddened in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry," she mumbled again.

He grazed his fingers against his wet shirt, but he curled his lips into a loop-sided smile. "Hey, it's nothing. This shirt needed to be washed anyways," he said awkwardly. She laughed quietly together with him, but guilt was spreading through her body like a like wildfire.

"Yeah, but I still feel like I have to make it up to you in some way," she said, cocking her head upwards so she could see his face. His lips were still formed as a smile and she could now see that he had the cutest dimples she'd ever seen.

He shook his head, their eyes looking into each others. Rachel almost felt like she fell into some trance, looking into his eyes. "Please, let be buy you a coffee or something. I feel really bad about ruining your shirt," she said.

He looked like he thought for a moment before he answered. "Well, a white chocolate mocha does sound good." he said and Rachel's face lit up. She told him not to go anywhere before turned around and sprinted towards the now shorter line of people. When she looked into the eyes of the bitchy Latina who gave Rachel her number, she quickly rabbled up what the guy had wanted and another vegan Vanilla Frappuccino to herself.

"Wow Midget, I have to admit that I'm impressed. You succeeded to drown a Frappuccino all by yourself in less than five minutes, and it seems like you got high on it, since you're totally overexcited." Santana said as she handed Rachel the man's coffee. Rachel shifted her body weight from her left foot to her right, looking over her shoulder every tenth second to check that the man was still there.

The sound of the paper mug hitting the counter brought Rachel back to Santana. Rachel payed Santana for the second time today and took the mug in her other hand. Just when she was about to turn away and give the man his coffee she remembered. "Hey, Santana I suppose. It seems like someone dropped his coffee by the door. Can you be a darling and clean it up before someone gets hurt?" Rachel fluttered with her long, black eyelashes and Santana's gaze darkened.

"You're not my boss! You can't tell me what to do."

Rachel smirked. "The customer is always right, right?" She winked at the staring Latina before she turned around and walked towards the man. She handed him his coffee, her cheeks gaining back the rosy color it had had before her brief meeting with Santana. She heard how he mumbled a 'thank you' against his cup and Rachel answered quickly with a 'you're welcome'. It was quite awkward just standing there, so Rachel took control of the situation like she did with everything.

"Want to sit somewhere?" she asked, and he looked down on her where she stood small. He nodded and smiled once again. Rachel was starting to believe that the only thing he could do with his mouth was smile and talk. And maybe kiss, if she was lucky enough to experience that. His lips looked really soft. "Yeah, that would be awesome. My legs are starting to hurt a little from standing and walking all day."

They sat down at a round table, rather close to the door. She took another sip of her coffee before she spoke up. "So, what's the name of the man I just bought a coffee too. And a rather expensive coffee may I add," she asked, aware of that bragging about money would probably not make so many new friends, especially when it's not really her money yet. He chuckled, and looked down on his coffee mug.

"Finn," he said, holding out a hand for her to take. "Finn Hudson."

Rachel took his hand, and his big one swallowed hers. She lightly shook it and smiled at him. "Rachel Berry," she said before she dropped his hand. In some weird way she instantly missed the warmth of his fingers surrounding hers. So she embraced her coffee mug with her right hand, letting it warm her hand instead. They sat quiet for a minute or two, neither of the two knowing what to say.

"So, how was your coffee, Finn?" Rachel finally said. He placed his mug on the table before he answered her.

"It was great, thank you very much for it. I know this kind of coffee is a sugar-bomb but I kind of need the kick," he said, and not until now Rachel noticed how tired he looked. Rachel crooked her brow in confusion.

"Why?" she wondered, and she couldn't help but feel a little sympathy for the stranger across from the table. He sighed deeply.

"Well, ever since my dad died a couple of months ago, I had to take over his company. The work is really great and stuff, but it is just so much. I have to be everywhere all the time and it's just hard right now. But, I guess I'll get used to it like everything else, right?"

Rachel nodded. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry about your dad, by the way. It must be kind of hard for you." She felt a sudden urge to reach over the round table and touch his shoulder in support, and she just couldn't shake the feeling off.

"Both yes and no. Sure I miss him, but lets just say that he wasn't the kindest man on earth. Sometimes he just did stupid stuff and he let someone else take the fall. He died of cardiac arrest, and my mom took it very hard. But she's okay now. He was never really good to her either, but she stayed with him with the belief that he still loved her and still was the man she knew."

Rachel stared at him as he stopped talking. Instead he gulped down some coffee. "What about you? Are you okay?" she breathed. He shrugged, almost like he didn't care. "I don't know. He was a douche bag and I didn't really spend much time with him, except when I got older and he got me to work for him. But he was my dad. So-"

He stopped talking, looking down on his hands that were firmly entwined with each other on the table. Rachel saw that his face didn't look sad, it looked confused. She understood him. His father dies and right after that he's ripped into a work he wasn't prepared for.

"So, who are Rachel Berry, then?" he suddenly asked, just to change the subject. Rachel plastered on a smile on her face and she tried to forget what Finn had just told her. She started talking about her own life and a couple of minutes later all worries and were gone. They talked like they had known each other for years. It was nice and Rachel felt like she never wanted to leave the place. But all things have to come to an end and Rachel suddenly got a text from Thomas, interrupting her long monologue about how Barbra Streisand changed the world. He'd actually looked genuinely interested which surprised her a little, so she groaned quietly when she picked up her phone. But when she opened the text her eyes widened.

"You haven't forgotten about your dress-trial with Mr Hummel, right Miss Berry?" the text said and Rachel quickly stood up. She looked at the clock on her phone and her eyes got even bigger. She had ten minutes to pick up her stuff and leave. She abruptly stood up from her chair, making Finn's eyebrows pop in the air. "Where are you going?" he asked.

Rachel picked up her purse and tightened her grip around her phone. "I...I have promised my cousin to go shopping today. I have to leave now, because she doesn't like when people are late. I'm really sorry," she babbled, thanking god for her acting skills.

Finn seemed to buy it, because he nodded and lifted a hand towards her. "It's okay, Rach. But can I please give you my number? I would really like to meet you again."

Rachel's heart skipped a beat when he called her Rach. No one, not even her dads, had ever given her a nickname. Well, except Santana, but Midget didn't count. "Yeah, sure," she said, handing him her phone. He quickly punched in his number and gave it back to her.

"Done. Have fun with your cousin."

She smiled a little, glad that he didn't know that her cousin actually lived in Wisconsin. "Yes, I will. Bye! And I'm really sorry about your shirt again."

He waved at her as he chuckled. "The shirt is no problem. I hope I'll see you soon."

As she exited the coffee shop she was feeling hot inside of her coat. He wanted to see her again. A handsome, sexy and really nice man wanted to spend more time with her. She'd never really been a boy-magnet and it felt really good that someone like Finn noticed her. Maybe spilling coffee on him wasn't so bad after all.


A/N2: Author's note at the top this time!