Thank you for your kind support. I appreciate it.
Standard disclaimer.
Second last chapter...
Mercedes was still in a numb daze, when she returned to work two days after Christmas.
She had no idea how, or why Sam had reacted as strongly as he did.
She had just wanted to have all their cards on the table, so to speak, if they were to take things any further...going beyond pretend.
For a moment there, she had really thought he wanted something real with her and she couldn't go further without the truth between them.
For the past two days, she has gone through every emotional stage and when anger finally reared its ugly head, she'd been grateful.
Cussing Sam, was better than burying her head in her tear-soaked pillows.
Had he really believed, she'd just go out with him, because, he was that damn awesome? For fuck sake, his ego knew no limits.
But the anger didn't hang around long, and she really shouldn't have been surprised, that she was going to work, using a ton of concealer under her swollen eyes.
Her heart was broken, just ahead of schedule.
She turned her computer on and listlessly started checking her e-mails.
Fifteen minutes later, Marley bounded into the office, with a smile so huge, Mercedes had to wonder if she'd won the lottery over the break.
Or if Stevie had proposed to her.
But Marley's smile faded, the moment she saw her.
"Oh no, what has happened?"
Mercedes wasn't sure if she should tell her now, that she and Sam were broken up.
The last thing she wanted to do, was ruin his contract, so she opted for a lie.
"I'm not feeling well."
Marley stopped in front of her desk, a look of sympathy crossing her face.
"You look like crap."
"Thanks," she muttered.
"But you need to feel better before the third, because guess what?" Of course Marley didn't wait for her to guess. Not that she ever did. "Director Bernstein changed his mind. He wants you at the Gala."
"What?" Mercedes turned away from her computer. "But he didn't want me..."
"I know, because of Sam, but he's even okay if Sam comes."
Marley rocked back on her heels, happy as can be, while Mercedes' heart cracked a little more.
"At first, I thought someone pulled the stick out of his ass, but then, he shared even bigger news, which is why he's in such a great mood."
'Viagra no longer posed heart attack risks?' "What?" she asked.
Marley slapped her hands down on the desk, rattling every item on it.
"There was a generous donation that came in after Christmas."
Despite Mercedes' craptastic mood, hope swelled.
"How generous?"
"Generous, as in, we have met our goal for the year!"
Mercedes shot to her feet.
"Are you serious?"
"Yes!" Marley jumped. "The department has their funding for the year, and there are still some donations expected to be made at the Gala!"
Rushing around the desk, she joined Marley in the jumping and squealing celebration.
Her mood had most definitely improved, upon hearing the good news, which helped get her through the day.
There were only a few times the stuff with Sam overshadowed the good, but she kept telling herself, at least she didn't have to worry about finding a new job for another year.
It was when she returned home that evening and set Kellogs' dinner on the table, she almost broke down again.
Tears never solved anything, but she wanted to cave to them.
Right now, she had so much to look forward to, but it had lost a little of its luster.
A knock on her door had her heart stopping.
Was it Sam?
She'd called and texted him several times, wanting a chance to explain...to talk...to do something, but he hadn't responded.
She rushed through the living room, catching her toe in the threadbare carpet, nearly face-planting onto the floor.
Righting herself at the last minute, she threw open the door.
"Sa...oh, it's you."
Kitty Wilde arched a brow.
"Nice to see you, too."
Well, if Mercedes hadn't felt like crawling into a hole before, now she did.
"What do you want?"
"We need to talk." She pushed her way into the apartment.
For someone so small, she was definitely strong. Turning around, she placed her purse on the coffee table and folded her arms.
"Can you tell me why, I just got off the phone with a really pissy Sam, who just explained to me, that the whole thing was off, ahead of schedule, and will not tell me why?"
Mercedes' shoulders slumped.
"It's over."
Miss Wilde's eyes narrowed.
"What do you mean? We weren't planning to break things off..."
"There isn't any 'we' in this! And I don't care if this messes up everything for you!" Mercedes barked.
She stepped back, taking a deep breath.
"Look, I want Sam to keep his contract and for everything to work out for him, but it's over."
Kitty watched her a long moment and then sat down.
"What happened?"
"Why do you think something happened?"
"Because you're hurt," she said, taking off her glasses. "I can tell. It's in your eyes. So, I imagine something happened. And we had planned to call this off after New Year's. And that is still a few days away."
Mercedes couldn't even believe she was considering telling this woman the truth, but she sat down, shaking her head slowly.
"I'm in love with him," she said.
Kitty wordlessly sat back.
"And I think...well, I thought he felt the same way." Tears crawled up her throat. "But I screwed up. I told him the truth."
"The truth about what?" Kitty asked. "The student loans? Look, I know that's a sore spot with you, obviously, but it's not that big of a deal. I doubt Sam..."
"No." Mercedes sighed. "I told him why I agreed to do this."
Miss Wilde paled.
"Oh, dear..." she started, but Mercedes went on.
"I told him, I hadn't wanted to and that you basically blackmailed me." She pursed her lips. "By the way, don't think I'm not still pissed off by that...I am."
Kitty nodded.
"Understandable. And he was mad, wasn't he?"
"Mad?" Mercedes let out a short, humorless laugh, that just sounded really sad. "He was beyond mad. He walked right out."
Miss Wilde raised one brow.
"Well, I imagine it doesn't do wonders for a man's ego, especially one of his size, to hear a woman agreed to be his girlfriend, because she was blackmailed. Have you tried calling him?"
Pressing her lips together, Mercedes nodded. The ball of 'ugh' was in her throat and going nowhere.
"I've called. I've texted...he hasn't responded."
Kitty Wilde's brows puckered and several moments passed, before she uttered a word.
"I do believe he's developed strong feelings for you...possibly even love."
Mercedes scowled.
"What part of the conversation do you not understand? He left. He doesn't want to see me. That's not love."
The publicist smiled.
"The only reason why he'd be mad, is because, he has feelings. If he didn't, he wouldn't have cared. The fact that he is upset, proves that he has feelings."
She leaned forward, and patted Mercedes' hand.
And Mercedes jerked back, but she remained unperturbed.
"This is good...actually, it's great. I couldn't have dared to hope for a real relationship to come out of this, but this is perfect. People will be clamoring to hire me."
"You're insane," Mercedes said, staring at her.
"No. You just wait and see. He'll come around." She stood, smiling, like she'd just had the best year at work. "You know, I was starting to suspect something."
She clapped her hands together.
"You will end up thanking me for this."
Mercedes' mouth dropped open and her face hardened.
"Get out of my apartment."
Kitty picked up her purse.
"I'm serious. In the end, you'll invite me to the wedding, and you'll thank me in the toast."
In total shock, Mercedes did the same thing she had done, the very first time, Miss Wilde visited her apartment.
She flipped her off...with both hands.
Sam was in a funk or, how his brothers put it, PMSing for the past couple days.
He hadn't told them what went down between him and Mercedes. Because, he felt it wasn't any of their business.
His feet pounded on the treadmill, he'd been running on, for the last hour.
Sweat poured from him, but he remained unfazed.
Every night, since he discovered the truth behind why Mercedes had readily agreed to be his pretend girlfriend, he'd spent more hours on the treadmill, than he cared to count.
His muscles burned an unholy fire, but it was better than the cold cavern in his chest.
It was better than sitting in front of the TV, not really paying attention to the screen.
And it was far better than laying in bed, staring at his ceiling, wondering how in the fuck he had misjudged her so badly.
He slowed down and then smacked the stop button.
He got off the treadmill and ripped the towel from the arm and started mopping up his sweat, with much more vigor than was needed.
How fucking stupid was he, that he really thought she'd go along with this, just because of who he was?
Even he could admit, that his ego had surpassed all of his brothers' combined...his father's.
Maybe, he could one day understand why she did it, but he could never get passed it.
Not when his father did shit like that...buying his 'girlfriends' jewels, cars, paying off debt, and furnishing their apartments, while his mother doped herself into an early grave.
And what the hell was he thinking, anyway?
Him in a relationship...one that had started off by two people pretending to be in love?
Shit, he was worse than his father, when it came to his track record with women.
'Fuck!'
But he missed Mercedes' smile...her laugh.
He missed, how she always smelled of jasmine and the way she felt against him. He missed her beautiful brown eyes and the way they sparkled.
He missed the witty comebacks and the way she was okay, when things were quiet.
He missed her asking about his day and hating the paparazzi and the way she never let him get away with anything. He even missed that fat-ass cat of hers.
He just fucking missed her.
Dropping the towel, he ran his hands down his face in frustration.
Avoiding the calls, had been hard enough, but not reaching out to her, had been a real effort.
He was about to hop in the shower, when he heard a knock on the front door.
Figuring it was one of his brothers, trying to drag him out for New Year's and ignoring the rush of excitement at the thought it might be Mercedes, he answered the door.
It was worse.
"Miss Wilde." He drew her name out, the way he knew she hated. "What did I do to earn this pleasure?"
She scowled, as her gaze drifted over him.
"Do you ever wear a shirt when you're home?"
"No. If you have a problem with that, stay..."
She put her hand up, stopping his attempt to close the door in her face.
"I wouldn't have to be coming here, if you would answer your phone and stop acting like a general ass."
Sam closed his eyes and counted to ten.
"Like I said, in the last phone call, I don't need your services anymore. You did your job. Congrats and thank you. Now please get the hell out of my life."
Miss Wilde pushed passed him, went into his kitchen, hopped up on the bar stool and crossed her legs.
"I'm still your publicist, until the Nationals decide my services are no longer needed."
"Great," he muttered.
"And you do need me."
Sam grabbed a bottle of water and propped his hip against the counter.
"You're the last person I need."
"Okay." She smiled. "You need Mercedes."
A sharp pain hit him in the gut, but he played it off.
"I stand corrected. She's the last person I need."
"Really?" she replied. "Then, if she was the last person you needed, why did you sleep with her?"
Sam swore under his breath.
"I'm not talking..."
"Oh, you'll talk to me, all right," she challenged.
She spun on the stool, tracking his movements.
"You shouldn't have slept with her, if you were going to turn around and walk out!"
"Why are you upset? You set this whole damn thing up!" Sam was dumbfounded. "What did you think was going to happen?"
"I don't know." Miss Wilde folded her arms. "That you actually got over yourself? So what? She didn't want to date you in the beginning...she needed a little push."
Sam was seconds away from throwing this woman out of his apartment.
"You blackmailed her into being with me."
"I didn't blackmail her into sleeping with you, you big dumbass!"
"Yeah? You're paying her to be with me." Sam raged. "Big fucking difference there."
"What?" Kitty Wilde sat back and let out a laugh. "You're an idiot."
"First off, I don't think any of this is funny and secondly..."
"Yes. You're an idiot." She shot to her feet, planting her hands on her hips. "Let me guess. Mercedes started explaining to you why she agreed to do this, but you heard only what your sensitive male ears wanted to hear and jumped to conclusions. Well hear this...I didn't pay her a dime for doing this."
"That's not..."
"Yes, I did offer to pay her...to pay off her student loans, to be exact. I thought that would be a better incentive," she said. "And after dealing with you for less than a month, I figure, we still need to pay the poor girl."
'Wow.' Sam set the bottle down.
"Well, that's unnecessary."
"Is it? Mercedes refused the money, which forced me to take more drastic steps. Trust me, I'm not proud of what I did, but she has done nothing wrong. I gave her no choice in this."
Sam thrust his fingers through his hair and turned, breathing in deeply. Anger began to sizzle under his already mussed exterior.
"She turned down the money?" he asked.
"Yes."
"And you forced her to do this...to be my pretend girlfriend?"
"Yes," she replied. "But whatever happened between you, had nothing to do with me. That was all you two."
Sam closed his eyes, as a rush of mixed-up emotions hammered inside him.
He didn't know what to think or what to feel.
Relief poured through him, but so did anger...mostly at himself. Miss Wilde was right. His overinflated ego had gotten the best of him.
"It's not too late," she offered.
He faced her.
"Yeah, I think it's too late."
"Why?"
"How can anything come from a relationship, that started off because, someone was forced into it?"
Kitty threw her hands up.
"Look, you've spent your whole life never accepting responsibility, for anything you do. It's always everyone else's fault. But here is the one chance for you to realize, you had something to do with this. And do I need to remind you, that you had a relationship with her...before I stepped in? I just helped it along."
"Helped it?"
She nodded, smiling.
"Do you love her?"
"I..."
"It's an easy question, Sam. Do you love her?"
The answer was easy.
His heart already knew, what his mouth didn't want to say.
For some reason, he thought about a damn playground, saw his life going round and round, but never really ending up anywhere...or with anyone.
It was time to get off the merry-go-round.
"If you do," she said firmly, "You will find a way to fix this."
Sam stared at his publicist/babysitter/daughter of Satan.
"Jesus, woman, I do not envy the man you end up with."
Miss Wilde's smile was one of pure evil.
"Neither do I."
Stay safe...stay happy and stay blessed.