AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you to each of you who has taken the time to review especially Zeejack, Carebearcaryn21, Jujubee58 and Isis. I also need to scream out a huge thanks to KayBee80 and Illiandyandra both of whom are completely instrumental in me getting anything out of my head and posted in a sense-making fashion.
BTW: This story is pretty much an Angst-free zone. I hope that you'll enjoy. Please Read and Review!
CHAPTER 7
Mercedes and Sam exchanged looks; Kurt had put them on the spot by saying that they would tell the bridal party who they were that evening. He knew they would have to do it; they couldn't procrastinate any longer. They would have to actually call people as soon as they got home for the evening.
After they all split up after dinner, Mercedes and Sam talked quietly in the taxi on the way back to his apartment. "Ok, I'll call the east coast girls first. Then Santana, after that I'll work my way to the west coast."
Sam nodded understanding her reasoning. "That sounds good, so I'll start with Blaine and Mike and work my way out to Jake."
"Thanks for not getting all crazy about me choosing to have Puck stand as a bride's attendant." Mercedes laughed.
"You girls need at least one guy on your side…he'll have pockets and he can hold all you're glosses for you." Sam teased. "Are you sure that you don't mind me asking Brittany?"
Mercedes laughed. "I don't mind. I just don't envy you having to explain that she'll be on your side and in black."
"Same dress though, right?" he asked.
"Yes, same dress, just in black." Mercedes assured him. "Thank you for agreeing to have a female on your side to make everything even."
"Well, I know how close you and Puck are…if he wasn't so completely friendzoned that you have him in the same category as Marcus, you and he might have been together all these years." Sam said putting into words the one thing he had feared more than any other.
"Puck and I decided before you ever came to McKinley that we couldn't be 'that' for each other. Instead we'd be what we actually needed. Puck needs a woman that he can really respect. So many women have just rolled over for him, that he was creeping to a place where all women were sluts and whores to him. With Beth on the way, he knew he needed someone who reminded him that there are women worthy of respect out there. That there are women who don't just spread their legs because he smiles at them, his relationship with his mother isn't the best, so there is a little maternal care and concern there too, but mainly I just remind him that there are women who Beth can look up to and aspire to emulate." She told him honestly. "For me Puck is my confidence when my internal knowledge of my own fierceness takes a beating, he is always there to shore it up. Especially when we first moved out to LA. When my confidence started to wane, when the executives were all giving me notes that they love my voice, but I should see them when I dropped seventy-five to a hundred pounds."
"Hold up Mercedes, you're barely five foot two…even back then, if you dropped that much weight you'd have looked like a skeleton." Sam interrupted.
Mercedes laughed. "Think back to how ridiculous the perception of female beauty had gotten back in the early 20 teens. Skeletons were considered sexy. Even artists like Ciara and Keri Hilson had people comment about their thighs…never mind that their thighs were rock hard muscles." She chuckled. "You know that is exactly what Puck said when I asked him to help me lose the weight. He helped me tone, and flatten my tummy…but when I'd dropped twenty five pounds, he sat me down and told me that he'd help me with maintenance…but no further loss. In fact, I didn't lose any more weight until I did West Side Story."
"Wow…I mean I knew you two were close, through Jake, he's been pretty much my go to 'Mercy News' person. But I don't know if I ever realized it was that deep between you two…that is so awesome." Sam told her, his voice conveying his sincere happiness that she had someone who provided her with those assurances whenever she needed them. "Brittany had really been my hope. Those times when I would want to give up, suddenly the phone would ring and it would be Brittany reminding me that things could work out, and I just had to have faith. Believe it or not, she was the one who helped me understand what happened senior year. She told me that you'd been trying to do what you thought was best for me…mostly. She also told me that there was a big part of you that felt that eventually I would throw you over for the thin blonde. She said that by hooking up with her, I'd subconsciously sabotaged our relationship because part of me knew that and was punishing you for your lack of faith in me…but it was a total catch 22 because in your mind all I did was prove you right. Granted all of this was couched as advice coming from Lord Tubbington, so it took me quite a long time to realize that she, or maybe the cat, was right."
Mercedes took a deep breath, and finally they addressed the elephant in the room. "You know, I think Brits was right. But first I have to say, y'all do be sleeping on her just because she prefers to call her intelligent side the same thing as she calls her cat. Anyway, I think that there was part of me that I held back, not on purpose, just because I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. I'm not sure that I was thinking you'd throw me over for anyone, I just…back then, I wasn't used to good things happening to me. Every time something good happened, something exponentially worse usually came behind it. Like when you had to move, I was so happy for your family, for you…but then it took you away from me. I never wanted to hurt like that ever again, so I think I tried to make sure that you wouldn't be able to hurt me like that again, only it didn't work. It still hurt like I had lost a limb, or a lung…I honestly worry what would have happened to me that year if I hadn't had music. My entire first damn CD should have just been titled Pity Party. I poured my heart out into that one, but it saved me." She paused in thought, "Okay, there may have been some fear that you didn't really want me…that eventually some skinny blonde, or tiny Latina would turn your head."
"And now…is that fear still there?" Sam asked quietly. His breath caught in his throat. "Because I have to tell you honestly, I haven't had a relationship with a 'skinny blonde or tiny Latina' since high school. I learned those lessons well. I mean not just the emotional ones, but guy things like small boobs maybe some guys' thing, but I like big, soft, real breasts. I like full, round, sexy bottoms that sway and jiggle when a woman walks. Thick thighs that cradle a man just right when he's moving between them, all soft and warm against his hips." Unconsciously, Sam licked his lips. "I gave up on trying to replace you by the time I was twenty two. But I'm just not built for celibacy, I tried that. I lasted a grand total of 23 months, and by the time I reached the end of my rope, I was depressed and hated the whole entire world, and mean enough that it hated me right back. So I started to…once a month, I'd go on what I called my hunts. I'd go to a club and spend the better part of the evening finding some girl who was just looking for what little bit of me I could offer."
"If you're referring to the part of you I think you are…ain't nothing small about that." Mercedes quipped hoping to lighten the mood and to let Sam know that she wasn't going to hold this against him.
Sam pulled her into his side and chuckled at her joke. "Thank you, Darlin'. But I was making a point. At first I was lucky. About four or five hunts in, I found a girl who was just coming out of a bad breakup. She and I would hook up once a month just to 'hit it and quit it', every month for a year and a half. By then she was ready to go try for something real. She met a real nice guy a couple of years ago, she sends me Christmas cards. After her I didn't go back out for another six months. I got set up by this guy at work, 'Man, you have to meet my sister-in-law. You two would be perfect together…yeah, she looked like Quinn and Kitty had gotten together and spawned an even more cray-cray love child. That dumbass got me stalked by his sister in law who I only dated twice. She cured me of even trying to do the whole serial dating thing, so I went back to hunting once a month. Club hookups at their place, condoms, no kissing and making sure I got tested every three months. You know how they say hind sight is twenty/twenty, well looking back, when I went hunting, the skin color might change but the curves never did."
"I've gotta say, I'm sure that I'm probably supposed to be jealous, but truth be told I'm rather flattered." Mercedes told him honestly. "I went the other route. The guys I dated were usually brown skinned. I dated a couple of Hispanic guys, several black dudes and even a guy whose family came from Egypt. Most of the time they were cute, but not fine; the Hollywood version of Shane…minus the kind heart."
"Kind heart my ass." Sam muttered. Even after all these years Sam couldn't hear the name Shane Tinsley without having violent thoughts. When the behemoth had been sidelined due to an injury during his rookie season with the Atlanta Falcons, Sam had cheered like his team had won the Super Bowl. "So you subconsciously decided to keep you heart safe by dating men who were nothing at all like the one you really wanted."
"Yeah, something like that…big head much." She teased. As they got out the taxi, paid the driver and headed inside Sam's building.
"Honey, you can't tell me nothing no more. I've got my girl back, we're planning our wedding and if trying counts then I know we've got a bun in the oven already." Sam laughed. "My head is so big; I can barely fit it in this lobby."
"I've got somewhere you can fit your head..." Mercedes said alluringly.
"Such a nice tight fit, too." Sam moaned. He lowered his mouth to hers and captured her lips in a kiss that had them both so aroused and lost in their passion that they barely made it into Sam's apartment before they joined together again. Once their passion was sated, only then were they able to focus and make the calls asking their closest friends to be in their bridal party.
The next morning Sam left Mercedes asleep in his bed as he dressed and headed to his office. He ended up running late, because he so enjoyed seeing her finally back where she belonged. Mercedes awoke at nine, and called Freddie just to touch base and start him thinking about what she would do to him when she got back to LA. She also reminded him that he had no choice but to attend her wedding. She also got him started on the negotiations with NBC and their entertainment news division for the rights to any pictured they decided to release to accompany whatever Santana would put together after the wedding. Then she contacted Monica and set her to work finalizing the addresses for the guest list as well as verifying the details for the next day's meeting with the media mogul.
Mercedes cleaned the apartment, and was rather glad she did. She found three different bras that had been tossed hither and yon around the living room in the week she had been there. She looked through the kitchen, and made a grocery list. She dressed and used her phone's GPS to find an organic market close to the apartment. She knew she was taking a risk, but she really didn't see the point in making Monica hoof it all the way over to Sam's neighborhood just to go grocery for her. She was able to get the shopping done, and was on her way back to the apartment when she was crowded by well-wishers and autograph seekers. She wasn't able to break free of them, until several officers stopped and gave her their assistance. She took their offered ride back to Sam's building and his door man helped her to get her groceries up to the apartment door. After all that, she barely felt like putting them in their proper place, but once that chore was completed, she realized that she had only killed a little over two hours. She sighed, got herself ready; she called a car service and her Rangemen and decided to do a little solo time at the stores.
Mercedes didn't consider herself to be a shopaholic, she just liked nice things. She worked diligently to make sure that her spending wasn't too excessive, but she really only made it to New York two to three times a year, so she was going to enjoy her time amongst some of the nations' most iconic stores. And yes, she knew that they were chain stores, she regularly visited them in LA, but there was just something special about being in Neiman Marcus or Bergdorf's or Nordstrom in Manhattan. She hit the big three with a vengeance, limiting herself to one outfit, from the skin out, at each store. First at Neiman Marcus she found a gorgeous red silk faille origami neckline suit jacket with a tea length, pencil skirt. It was a bit much for a meeting between 'friends' but given that she was determined to have Sean Combs invest in the show she wanted produced, she was willing to table their friendship for the duration of the meeting. She searched for the proper underpinnings and discovered a forming chemise that was perfect. She also found a bra and pantie set from the same designer that would look just right under the slip. While in the shoe department, she was enraptured by an adorable pair of black and white tiger print calf hair pumps, and knew that they would be perfect with the suit. She stopped in the men's jewelry department and picked up a gift for Sam. She tried to find him something in the men's clothing section, but most of the suits there struck her as too much Kurt not enough Sam, so she moved onto Bergdorf Goodman's.
At Bergdorf's she found several things for Sam. Jeans that, with a little help from Monica, would fit as perfectly as the ones her PA had purchased their first night in the city. A suit that would be absolutely perfect for a night clubbing at any of the places that were the NYC equivalent of the clubs Diddy dragged her to on occasion on the west coast. She also found a very professional suit that she purchased as a gift for Monica herself. The Calvin Klein tweed suit would look very nice on the smaller girl, Mercedes even searched and searched until she found a pair of slacks that Monica could change out with the skirt. In this store, Mercedes found a very cute one shoulder white mini dress. Since it was summer and therefore she could, Mercedes decided to go for all white. The dress had a diaphanous sleeve on the one side and nothing on the other. It had some silver and crystal beading and the underskirt was lace. Mercedes paired it with a pair of Badgley Miscka ultra high heeled sandals in white. Feeling naughty, she headed to the lingerie section and decided that she would continue her theme, though she knew that it could backfire on her grandly. The set she found, she wasn't sure she was bold enough to actually wear. It was made of sheer white lace, and the demi bra would play peek-a-boo with her brown skin and even darker brown nipples and areolas. The panties looked like girl briefs from the front, but the back was an entirely different story. The back barely had enough material to be called a thong.
In Nordstrom, she found an incredible mini dress with a jagged hem and beading and multicolored crystals all around the sweetheart neck line of the corseted top. The color of the dress was almost impossible to define. It looked like rose silk had been covered by a sheer black overlay, though she couldn't feel any layering. Though she thought she had planned her 'out with Puffy' outfit to the tee, Mercedes couldn't resist this dress. She tried to be good and leave it there, but it kept calling her back. Finally she decided that she would try it on. The dress fit as though made for her. So she headed to the lingerie department. A dress that hot called for something special. Given the size of Mercedes endowments, and the fact that the dress didn't have even the thinnest of straps, she decided to go with a bustier. But as she looked for one, she found an Elomi molded underwire convertible strapless bra. At an EE cup Mercedes may have loved the luxury brands, but she lived for the few companies that catered to women like herself. She still felt daring, so she bought a tiny black thong…then she bought a cute little pair of boy shorts to wear over it. Then she headed to the shoe department. There she found a pair of hot pink ultra-high stiletto sandals with mirror detailing on the vamp. Completely happy with her purchases, Mercedes decided she wanted to treat Junior, who had had to endure four and a half hours of intensive shopping. So she bought him a thousand dollar gift card that would be good anywhere they took VISA.
He saw her back to Sam's apartment and the poor beleaguered bodyguard had never been so happy to return a client to their domicile before in all his days. It was the only reason Mercedes was able to give him the gift card. He wasn't paying any attention, he took the greeting card she handed him with a thank you and helped her and Sam get all her purchases up to the apartment. Then he disappeared like smoke.
Sam looked around at the plethora of new clothing Mercedes had gotten. "Darlin', we're running out of room for your clothes."
Mercedes surveyed the closet in front of her. With an unconcerned shrug she replied, "If it gets too bad, I'll ship some things to Kurt. By the day after tomorrow, the stuff I bought myself will be able to go. I just needed something to wear to meet with P Diddy and to go to the club. I got you a few new pieces too. I wasn't sure if the places you went hunting were anything like where we'll probably end up tomorrow."
"Probably not," Sam admitted.
"Hey speaking of your hunting trips…if you could get by hunting once a month, why is it that you've been barely letting me out of the bed unless you're at work? I'm not complaining…not at all, but it almost feels like you're trying to stockpile in case I'm gone soon. Is that a fear you still have?" she asked him seriously.
Sam gave her a lopsided grin. "No. I know that if you weren't all in, you might have come, but you'd be in some posh, fit for a diva, suite at the Waldorf. The fact that you're here with me in this, admittedly nice, but not super remarkable, apartment tells me that you're here for good. I guess maybe, well if you were in a desert for a very long time, when you got out, wouldn't you drink your fill?" he pointed out. "Besides, I was old enough to remember when my momma was pregnant with the twins. She got sick those first few months, I mean, 'Sam be quiet, your mom is resting' sick. She was barely able to move from her room some days. So maybe I am stockpiling a little, just in case you get that bad off."
Mercedes gave him an alluring smile. "Well, why don't we go and add a little to your stock." She whispered against his ear.
Sam lifted her up and carried her to their bedroom. "You know what I realized this morning on the train to work? I realized that somehow, I've neglected to taste you." He murmured as he laid her down on the bed. Slowly Sam gently and carefully removed the clothing hiding his woman's body from his hungry eyes. When she was laying before him completely naked, her soft skin beckoned him forward. Sam kissed Mercedes full lip, teasingly nipping at her lush lower lip. His hands were busy gently massaging her sumptuous, full breasts. He rolled her nipples between his strong fingers, pinching just hard enough to make his woman keen and beg for more. "I haven't played with my girls as much as I should have either. But do you know why?"
With a moan, Mercedes shook her head. "Because, Darlin' ever since you called me that Saturday afternoon, all I can think about is being inside you, pressing my dick as deeply into you as I can…so deep that I'm fucking your damn cervix and unloading every bit of seed I can. In my dreams I see them, like in a sex ed tape, rushing to your eggs. Fucking their way inside, creating out child." Mercedes gasped, she could see his words as he spoke. See everything play out the way he saw it. "But tonight, I'm gonna taste you. I'm gonna make you cum with my hands and my mouth until you're crawling out of your skin."
Sam started to kiss and nip his way down her neck. He latched on to one of her turgid nipples, his tongue licking and poking the sensitive flesh. He waited until Mercedes back started to arch, pressing her breast more fully into his face, before he nipped the bud between his teeth. "Fuck." Mercy hissed. Sam started applying more pressure; he wanted to see if he could make her cum without any stimulation below. He tormented her breasts moving back and forth between them driving her to the brink time and time again. Eventually the rich vanilla and honey, slightly musky scent of her arousal filled the air around them.
He couldn't resist the siren's call any longer. He kissed his way down her belly, stopping to dip his tongue into the little dip of her navel. Further he nibbled and kissed until he settled with his face between her thick brown thighs. He leaned forward and inhaled deeply. "You smell so damn good, Darlin'." He whispered into the silence of the room. Sam stuck out his tongue and licked Mercedes from bottom to top, collecting her essence on his tongue. "Umm, and Baby, you taste even better." Sam's tongue was much like his mouth, broad and plump and very, very dexterous. He used broad strokes to open her up for his questing tongue. When he'd teased her clit out from hiding, he fastened his lips round it and flickered his tongue against the sensitive morsel of flesh.
Just as he'd remembered Mercedes went wild. "Holy fucking Shit!" she screamed. Her body convulsed, she curled into herself despite Sam's broad, strong hands holding her hips in place. "Oh Sam! OOOHHH SAM!" she called out as he suckled the bundle of nerves. Sam loved the sounds of her pleasure and he was rewarded with a flood of her thin, slick juices. But he wanted her to cum more…he wanted her to give him more of her taste. He had missed the taste of her, the feel of her on his tongue. He slid a long, thick finger into her tight little tunnel. Making a come hither gesture with the digit, he launched Mercedes into the stratosphere. "Jesus, yes! God, please! Sammmmy!"
With a start, Sam realized that he was still dressed. He used one hand to keep Mercedes locked in the throes of an epic orgasm. With his free hand, Sam managed to undo his belt, popped the button right off the front of his slacks, ripped down the zipper and freed his weeping cock. He latched onto a bouncing, jiggling breast and replaced his finger with his dick. His quick hard thrust didn't just sheath him fully in his love's tight wet heat, it also caused Mercedes to scream his name and beg him to fuck her hard. Sam was nothing if not obliging. "There is something really fucking hot about having you under me writhing and beggin', nakeder than the day you were born; while I'm fuckin' you hard and fast still dressed for work." He whispered darkly against her ear.
Mercedes arched up into his rabid thrusts. "So…good!" she moaned incoherently. "Sammy…baby…hold me down." She pleaded.
Catching her train of thought, Sam growled and grabbed both her wrists in one hand. Rearing back he held them above her head, and started to swivel his hips as he thrust faster, trying to go even deeper. "Fuck you feel so good Baby." He moaned. "You like it hard and fast don't you, my dirty Darlin'. You're so damn sexy. Love it that I have you back where you belong." Sam panted. "You're mine now. Mine…Never letting you go again." Mercedes screamed as she was overcome yet again by her pleasure. His name tripped off her lips with every expletive that slipped out. Her hips were humping up at Sam as he stilled. He pulled out, and released her hands. Grabbing her hips, Sam lifted Mercedes as though she weighed nothing at all. He carried her over to the chair he'd spent his punishment strapped to. He tossed her onto the seat on her knees. He grabbed her wrists again and pulled both her arms behind her back. His pants were around his ankles as he thrust forward, entering Mercedes roughly from behind. Her screams of pleasure echoed off the walls as Sam made her cum over and over again. His rough, coarse words of love were as arousing as the way he was holding her hands, "Tomorrow, I want you to dress like a dirty girl. I want your tits on display, I want to be able to put my hands under your skirt and feel the soft skin your sexy ass when we're dancing." He growled right against her ear. "I want you in the hottest dress you've ever worn. I want you to wear the tiniest panties you can, and bring a pair to keep in your purse." Sam paused to wet his forefinger in his mouth. "You're gonna be my Dirty Darlin' all damn night tomorrow." He told her. He pressed the pad of his wet finger against her rosebud. Her whimpers and moans and cries of passion were music to his ears. "And soon…real soon." He whispered, his tone dark, almost threatening. "I'm gonna fuck 'dat big, sexy, round, soft, amazing ass."
It was Sam's turn to cry out as the intensity of Mercedes' orgasm did him in. He felt his balls bathed in her essence as she tightened down on him. Together they rode the waves of ecstasy, Sam's hand tightened almost painfully on Mercedes wrists…which only served to heighten her pleasure. Mercedes body grew so wet and hot that she boiled over, her passion wetting not only her thighs, but Sam's as well, the undulating waves of her walls and the intense, wet heat of her orgasm only served to heighten his. When they finally came down from their meteoric high, Sam's face was plastered against Mercedes sweaty back. At some point he'd released her wrists, though they remained trapped between them, and his hands were clutching her breasts tightly enough to leave light bruising in some spots. Mercedes was squished into the back of the chair, her cheek gaining a clear impression of the upholstery. They found themselves too exhausted to even worry about food; instead they took a shared shower and climbed into the bed still damp. They were asleep before they dried.
The next morning, Mercedes forced herself out of bed with Sam. Together they had a quick breakfast and cleaned up the bedroom Sam dressed and as he was heading out the door, Monica arrived. Mercedes took one look at her PA and turned and entered 'her closet', as Sam had begun referring to the guest bedroom. She came out with a garment bag. "Here, go get changed, then we'll work on me." Mercedes commanded.
Monica hesitatingly opened the bag to find the cute tweed suit. She knew she probably shouldn't accept but the suit she was wearing, while classically cut, was severe and a little out dated. She hurried to comply with Mercedes command. As soon as she rejoined Mercedes, however, she was assessed and evaluated. The petite diva returned to the guest room and remerged with some great costume pieces that she used to spice up the look. Once Mercedes was happy with how Monica looked, she adjourned to her own shower and to begin to get ready. While she was dressing, Monica went to work making sure that the car service would be there on time and that Junior and Binkie were set. The very efficient PA even verified that they would be having more bodyguards for the evening and sent out a mass schedule for the evening's events, though she did warn all of her boss' friends that she would have to let them know club name and dress code after their meeting.
By the time Monica finished her morning check list, Mercedes was finished in the bedroom she came out freshly showered, her hair pulled back into a voluminous bun, her makeup appropriate for a day meeting, though her lips were done in a glossy warm tone red rather than a matte, and her eyes were lined to make them look bigger and more gamine like. She was wearing her new lingerie, including the body molding chemise that was far less likely to ride up than a traditional slip and give her the slight support she needed given the very close cut nature of her suit. "Call Sam and remind him that I'll be out of pocket from ten until at least one." Monica nodded and shot off a quick text. She knew that Sam had taken to calling to talk to Mercedes during his lunch hour. Mercedes came out this time, having added her shoes. She struck a pose. "Aren't they gorgeous?" Mercedes crowed. "And they were on sale. Once TMZ catches me in them a few times though I'll have to pass them along…oh the perils of being famous."
"Silly lady, get dressed. The car will be here in the next fifteen, twenty minutes." Monica admonished her employer. "Or was this your way of coming out to say, 'Monica, I need your assistance to get into this incredibly fashion forward, yet horribly uncomfortable article of clothing I recently purchased'."
"Yeah, what you just said." Mercedes shot back. They were both giggling as they zipped, tucked, buttoned and jiggled Mercedes into her cherry red, second skin tight suit. Monica quickly gathered everything Mercedes would need in her own black leather, large tote bag. They made it down to the lobby just in time for Binkie to usher them into the waiting car. The usually taciturn bodyguard had a look on his face that baffled Mercedes. She checked herself over but could find nothing out of place. "What?" She asked. "Do I have something on my face?"
"No ma'am." Binkie rushed to assure her. "I was simply thinking that Sam Evans is a very lucky man." He said respectfully.
She laughed. "Thank you Binkie, but you've got to be less creepy about it. Sam used to stare at me like that. I had to explain to him that intense staring is only okay for about a minute. Once you hit and pass the minute mark…you slide into creeper territory."
Binkie blushed bright red. "That might be why I'm still single."
"That and the fact that, thanks to Morelli, the chicks in Trenton act like we at Rangeman are all thugs and criminals." Junior groused.
Mercedes gave both men assessing looks, "Well if they can't see what's in front of their faces, then do you really want to be with somebody that stupid. Every Rangeman I've ever dealt with has pretty much oozed honor and dignity. I've never understood men's ability to ignore stupidity just because the woman is fine…that might work for a night, but long term…that's just asking for drama."
"And really dumb kids." Monica pointed out.
"Hey, don't knock dumb kids, sometimes they are actually loony toons, not dumb." Mercedes defended, thinking of Brittany's outside the box method of thinking. She thought about what she was saying Brittany was special. Neither of her parents were judgmental, bigoted idiots. "Ok…you're right…but let's say stupid…not dumb."
"What is the difference?" Binkie asked perplexed.
"Dumbness, in my way of thinking, is an inability to learn. You can't fault people for not having the ability to gain or retain knowledge or to learn from the mistakes of others. However, Stupidity is the conscious decision not to learn. To me racism is stupidity. Science and history have shown time and time again that there is little to no difference between the races, so to hate someone based on the color of their skin is willful ignorance…stupidity. Remember ten years ago when senators and congressmen were still arguing that global warming wasn't real…despite all the science that said otherwise. That was willful ignorance…stupidity. Your chicks in Trenton, they could learn from your actions, the job you've chosen to do…hell they could just give you a chance and get to know you. But instead they chose to rely on bullshit and hearsay. That's willful ignorance…hence me calling them stupid." She explained reasonably.
"If they ever bring back 'The More You Know', they should definitely have you do that one." Binkie remarked.
"Okay…what?" Mercedes asked.
Binkie rolled his eyes, "You are so young." He teased. "Back in the day when NBC still had Saturday morning shows, they used to have a PSA type deal called 'The More You Know'. They taught life lessons and warned kids against drugs and bullying and stuff."
Monica found some on YouTube and they watched a few as the car winded its way through traffic. When they arrived at the building that housed P Diddy's corporate offices, they exited the car and were met in the lobby by Sean Combs' personal assistant, a tall, dapper young man named Geoffrey. Geoffrey escorted them up to the top floor and showed Binkie and Junior into the room where Diddy's bodyguards relaxed for the few hours he came into the office every day. Mercedes and Monica were ushered into Puffy's inner sanctum. The office was not what one would expect from a media magnate. Instead of harsh lines and black leather and chrome and glass, Sean's office looked like that of a late nineteenth century banker. The large real wood desk looked antique, the three chairs, two facing it and one behind, were all leather; but simple, warm, rich brown leather with gold stud pins holding it in place. There was a large couch that was finished in the same way and a small round table in the corner that seemed to be ideally suited for the PA's to take notes on the meeting without their presence being remarkable.
