***Hey you guys! I had major problems uploading this chapter, but yeah! Here it is. Maybe it was God's way for me to work on it a little more. I really like this chapter and I hope you do too. Anyhoo…
Disclaimer- I do not own Glee or its characters. I think RIB for creating them, but hate him for ruining them. He builds us up, just to let us down. Why, RIB? Why?
Chapter 9
Mercedes hung her head on the back of her gray office chair as she spinned around. The office was empty and was going to be closed for lunch soon. With every turn, she eyed the clock on the office wall. The clock read 12:30pm. Her heart was palpitating in excitement because she knew in thirty minutes she would be talking to Sam. Since her surprise dvd gift, Sam has religiously called her office everyday at 1pm for their lunch time chat.
The conversations involved just about everything- stories about friends, family, highschool, college, and work. Laughter was sure to follow with a couple of Sam's amazing impressions. Mercedes kept telling him that he should perform them on youtube, because they were so good. Their chats had become the highlight of Mercedes' day and she was becoming more and more impatient with it's' arrival. Sam was always so much fun to talk to and made it so easy for her to open up. She told him more things about her family and her life than even Sugar!
"So does your whole family sing?" He asked during one of their lunch chats a couple of days ago.
"Are you kidding? My mama sings in the church choir, my auntie is the choir director. My uncle is the leader of an R&B band back in North Carolina. And my daddy use to sing back up for James Brown. He only sang in two gigs, but my dad will ride that experience until the wheels fall off." Mercedes giggled. Sam giggled too, sighing internally at the sound of her laughter. He had to bite his lower lip to keep from himself from telling her how much her laughter turned him on. His mind imagined her face in slow motion. The corners of her mouth curling up, with her full, luscious lips parting slightly and part of her gleaming white teeth showing. Sam had to literally slap his face to pull himself out of his daydream.
"Um…James Brown, huh? That's pretty impressive."
"Oh, James Brown is 60s black R&B singer who sangs mostly…"
"Mercedes, I know who James Brown is." Sam interjected quickly. Mercedes laughed lightly.
"Ok, sorry. I didn't know. Not that many guys who look like you listen to James Brown."
"Hey, I'm offended. I know Mr. Showbiz. And you better watch out, Papa don't take no mess." Mercedes hollered in laughter.
"Oh, you do know a little something, something, Sammy. I am impressed."
"Do I impress you, Ms. Jones?" Sam asked mischievously, his voice dropping an octave deeper.
"Oh yeah, Mr. Evans." Mercedes smiled at the phone. "There is definitely more than meets the eye with you." Sam felt his pulse race.
"I hope you don't forget that." Mercedes felt her face get hot and started fanning herself with a manila file folder.
"So does your family sing?" She asked, trying hard not think about what he was wearing at that very moment.
"Yeah, but not professionally. Mamma sings in the choir and so does my younger sister. Daddy plays the guitar. He is the one who taught me. Him and Poppa. Poppa taught me pretty much everything I know about guitars and music. He would teach me all kinds of bluesy musical chords. He loved the blues."
"Really? He sounds like a wonderful guy. Is your Poppa still in Tennessee?" There was a brief moment of silence and then Sam released a heavy sigh.
"No, Poppa passed away about a year ago."
"Oh Sam. I'm sorry."
"Thanks. He was a character. He always tried to give me advice about girls, but I never took it. Now, looking back, he made so much sense."
"What was one advice that you wish you had taken?" She asked curiously.
"Hmm…great question. My favorite would have to that being in love is like a small fire. You have to care for it, take care of it, or it will disappear. But if it's hot enough, and if you blow on the ambers real sweet, the flames will always come back up." Mercedes laughed softly.
"Poppa sounds like he was a charmer."
"Oh yep, he was. I wish you got a chance to meet him."
"Yeah me too." Mercedes said quietly.
Last night, Mercedes could not sleep and thought about expanding their lunchtime talks to the night time hours, but she just when she was going to call, she got cold feet.
Suppose he ends up being just like Noah? He was great in the beginning too. I can't put myself out there like that right now.
Mercedes' fears talked her out of calling Sam and she went to bed after two hours of baking chocolate-chip cookies. And the kicker? She couldn't even bring herself to eat one. When she woke up the next day, Mercedes decided that today she would invite him out to lunch with her.
I am just going to do it. It's not a date, exactly. It's two people sharing a meal while talking. Two people having fun. Two people with one of them built like a greek god and lips that could kiss every minute of the day away….
Before Mercedes knew it, she was spiraling into self-doubt again and back pedaling on her midnight promise to herself. She kept seeing Sam's amazing chiseled body, half-cocked smile, and sparkling green eyes and suddenly felt petrified.
Suppose I'm not his type? Suppose he decides that after the challenge of getting me, he's not that interested? Suppose he decides that I'm not what he's looking for?
Her thoughts were interrupted with the buzzer for the front door. Mercedes swiveled around to look at the door as she buzzed the visitor in and was frozen by the sight of the man walking in. Noah.
Sam couldn't wait to talk to talk to Mercedes. He decided that he was going to ask her to go to lunch with him tomorrow. He knew she would probably be more comfortable with lunch rather than dinner. It was a safe route to getting closer. Sam also couldn't stand not seeing her beautiful face in front of him. He loved talking to her on the phone, but it paled in comparison to seeing the real thing - up close and personal. He only hoped she would be up for it.
"Puck, what the hell are you doing here?" Mercedes asked in a stern tone as she stood behind her desk. She couldn't believe this fool was actually standing in front of her. He smiled a toothy grin and walked toward her desk.
"Hot mama, just calm down. You won't answer my call or take any delivery. I just needed to see you. And damn, you look good, girl!" He looked her up and down, smiling at her tailored office pants suit. Mercedes rolled her eyes and walked toward the door.
"Are you serious Puck? Okay, well now you've seen me, so hit the streets." He made a confused face at her response.
"Since when do you call me Puck?" he asked, standing next to her desk.
"Since you showed that you are more of a Puck and less of a Noah. Puck is your true nature. You know "Puck, the guy who don't give a…" I think you know the rest." Puck smirked and sat on the side of her desk.
"Ok, I deserve that one. But can I get 5 minutes of your time?"
"Hell no!" She exclaimed, her hands on her hips.
"Come on Baby. You can atleast give me that." Mercedes shook her head, feeling like steam was going to jet out of her ears.
"I don't have to give you a damn thing, Puck. Did you forget that you cheated on me? And don't call me baby, you ass. Atleast give me the courtesy of calling me by my name. And get your punk ass off of my desk!" Immediately, Puck jumped off her desk.
"Baby, I mean Mercedes. Alright, Mercedes. I came here to apologize, okay. I was a complete jerk and I am sorry, Hot-, Mercedes." Mercedes crossed her arms and leaned against the door.
"Yeah, you're sorry. Great. Are we done here now?" Puck sighed.
"Do you really hate me that much, Mercedes?" He asked quietly. Mercedes tilted her head to the side, contemplating his question.
"Yep." She replied emotionlessly.
"Can I please take you out to lunch and we can talk? Please Mercedes. Please, please." Puck dropped down to his knees and started knee walking toward Mercedes, his hands begging with a pout on his face. Mercedes rolled her eyes.
"Uh! You make me sick!" She screamed exasperatedly. "Fine. Across the street at the café. That's it Puck." Puck jumped to his feet and smiled widely.
"Great! I swear you will not regret this."
Mercedes walked to her desk, picking up her purse and grabbing her office keys. As the two walked out of the door, the office phone rang.
That's strange. The office is closed for lunch and she's always at her office. Sam began to get nervous that something might have happened to Mercedes after calling the office three times. He looked at his phone and saw the time was 1:10pm. He knew he was not going to feel better until he knew for sure that she was alright.
I'll just drive by and check on her through the window. Sam packed his things up from the library and grabbed his bike helmet as he walked toward the door.
Mercedes sipped her glass of white zinfandel, staring out the window of the café. Puck was seated across from her and was nervously drinking his glass of water.
"Are you going to look at me Mercedes or are you going to keep with this attitude?" Puck asked with an annoyed tone. Mercedes leaned to the side of her chair and raised her eyebrow. She slowly placed her glass on the table and leaned over the table toward Puck.
"Let's make something real clear, Puck. I am here to hear you out. Don't you try to dictate what type of attitude I can or cannot have. You have no standing here. Got it?" Puck swallowed hard and nodded his head.
"Sorry." He answered quietly. Mercedes rubbed her forehead. She felt a headache coming on. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples.
"Puck, why are we here? What did you want to tell me, because this is feeling like a waste of time." Puck cleared his throat and took a sip of water. He lifted his eyes to meet Mercedes.
"Mercedes, I have really been thinking about you the last couple of weeks. I really missed you." Mercedes looked blankly at Puck, emotionless.
"And?"
"And I want us to get back together." Puck pleaded. He reached over and held her hand softly. He lightly stroked her hand, smiling at her.
"Come on Mercedes. You know me. You know I'm not all bad. Remember the night at the Jason Statham movie. We had a good time right?" Mercedes smiled thinking about the fun they had that night, laughing and walking after the movie. Then words of Sam's grandfather ran in her ear. Were the ambers ever really hot between Puck and I? Looking back it feels like we were better friends than anything else.
Sam circled his bike in front of the window of the office building. It was definitely empty. Sam was disappointed she wasn't there, but also glad to see that everything seemed normal there. He realized that she probably just made other plans. He was hurt by that possibility, but preferred that option than the idea that she was in trouble in some way. Sam was preparing to go back to the library when he noticed a familiar car in front of the office building. Black 1967 Chevy Impala.
That's Puck's car. Could someone have the same car?
Sam looked around the street and glanced toward the window of the café across the street. He squinted at the window, thinking he noticed something. He pedaled across the street, heading toward the café when he finally recognized the images on the other side of the window pane.
Puck and Mercedes!
Sam biked away from the window, but close enough to see the pair talking. Puck was speaking. Then Sam saw Puck reach over and put his hand over Mercedes'. He turned his head and felt his heart stop. He felt like he couldn't breath. Did he just see what he thought he saw? He turned his head back and saw Puck's hand still resting on Mercedes. Sam began to pedal away from the restaurant.
Mercedes dropped her head to look at Puck's hand on hers and lifted her eyes to Puck.
"Puck, have you slept with anyone since we broke up?" Puck's smile disappeared and he withdrew his hand from hers.
"Huh? What did you say?" Mercedes picked up her glass and took a sip of her wine.
"Mmm, hmm. I just asked you if you've slept with anyone since we broke up two and a half weeks ago." Puck cleared his throat and took a gulp of water.
"Uh…well…I have been dating. I mean…Mercedes, we weren't together, right?" Mercedes nodded her head calmly and folded her hands, with her elbows resting on the table.
"Definitely. That's not the point though, Puck. The point is you're a ho. While I do believe that you are sorry for screwing up, I don't believe you want the same things I want. I actually knew that when we first dated, but you were cute and I let my guards down. But the truth is you were more interested in getting inside my shorts rather than getting to know me." Mercedes motioned to the waitress. The young lady came quickly to the table.
"Miss, can you make my lobster raviolis to go? I am leaving now." Puck looked stunned as the waitress walked away.
"Mercedes, I can change. Really, I can." He pleaded.
"Puck, why are working so hard on this? Why do you want me so bad?" She looked at Puck closely. "Am I the first girl to ever reject you?" Puck sat sulking in his seat, playing with the cloth napkin.
"I don't know. Maybe." He grumbled lowly, looking down at the napkin. Mercedes smirked at Puck and shook her head. The waitress returned to the table with Mercedes' meal in a to-go bag.
"Boy, grow the hell up. We're fine, ok? I don't hate you. But hear me when I tell you this. Now listen really close, ok? We are NEVER getting back together. Like ever." Mercedes stood up and grabbed her bag.
"Thanks for lunch." Mercedes walked out the café and suddenly sucked her teeth. Pulling out her phone from her purse, she looked at the time. 1:45pm.
Damn, she thought.
****Puck was trying hard, right? What do you think Sam should do? Should he tell Mercedes he saw her and Puck? Love your reviews and feedback! Tootles xoxo
