Good Morning Bunnies! I hope that your Mother's Day was everything that you had hoped it would be. That you were spoiled rotten and told in a million different ways that they do not take you for granted.
Anyway, ladies and gentleman, I present you with chapter 6 of Rolling The Dice.
DISCLAIMER: This story is loosely, very loosely, based upon the book "Divorce In Vegas" by Tamara Black. The rights to that novel belong strictly to Tamara Black and the publishing company. The characters in Glee are the sole property of Ryan Murphy, his writing team, and the executives over at FOX. However, as a fanfiction writer, I just wanted to give my favorite characters the love that they did not receive on the show, in my opinion. If fanfiction writers wrote Glee, it would still be on.
The BETA is a small company called Me, Myself, and I.
ENJOY!
SAM
I'm living a dream. I am fully awake, completely sober, and I am living a dream. The face that I thought I would never see again. The face that still haunts my dreams, even all these years later. The face that I brought tears to. She wasn't a mirage. She was a live, living, breathing, stack of curves.
Mercedes was wearing a pale sage green cap sleeve, wide legged pants jumpsuit that was separated at her waist by a wide Obi black belt and black 6-inch platform pumps. In addition to that, she was wearing what appeared to be a Barefoot Dreams olive duster and bold jewelry to finish off the look. Attached to her was a black hobo bag at the crook of her arm. Her hair was a little longer than I had remembered, but it framed her face beautifully as it cascade on her shoulders. When we were married, she didn't wear makeup all that often, but when she did, she really knew how to apply it. Her face was made for makeup. The vision in front of me left me with no doubt that she still had the ability to do that.
Memories of our very first encounter many moons ago, brought a smile to my face. "Isn't that my line, Cede?"
"Well, I never thought that you were the Humphry Bogart type. James Dean, sure, but never a Humphry Bogart. Besides, you didn't answer my question." Mercedes replied.
"And what question is that?" I asked.
Mercedes took a couple steps towards me. Using that walk that makes me salivate each and every time. She has only been in my eyesight for a few minutes and I am already not able to control my body's reaction to her.
Now she is standing in front of me and she cocked her head the side. "Out of all of the gin joints, why are you at mine?" Mercedes seductively questioned.
"What can I say, I like gin." I countered.
"Play it again Sam," she flirted right back. "Play it again."
Bonnie did not appear to be too happy about Mercedes' little visit to me. She was looking back and forth between us and trying to figure out the scene that was playing in front of her. But here I am, having a front row seat to her confusion. Then again, I may be using her confusion to mask my own.
I still cannot believe that she is standing before me. I still cannot believe that I can actually smell her perfume. She is taking over my senses and my thoughts are all scattered.
My eyes had never left her face. Even after all of this time, I am still drawn to her lips. But our stare off continued. Finally, Mercedes broke her visual contact with me and turned her attention to Bonnie. "Ah, excuse me, but you are sitting in my seat."
She looked at both of us in a huff. "And who are you?" she asked.
An amused look appeared on Mercedes face. It caused me to chuckle to myself. Never taking my eyes off her beautiful face, I answered Bonnie's question. "She is my wife."
I caught the look of surprise on Mercedes' face, but she did not correct me.
Bonnie was looking at me like I was crazy. Her face pretty much told me that she was disgusted that Mercedes was my wife. To say that Bonnie and Mercedes were polar opposites was an understatement. That I could be attracted to someone like Mercedes was beneath her. It is attitudes like that, that always makes me angry.
When I didn't say anything more, she snatched her drink from the bar, turned, and made sure that her whipped hair swiped the tip of my face, before she stormed off into the bar.
Once Bonnie was gone, I motioned for Mercedes to take a seat. "Time is definitely your friend Cede," I said.
Mercedes smiled as she took a couple of steps towards the barstool. It amused me to watch her as she decided on how to climb up in it. As I recall, Mercedes was always sensitive about her height. She would always refuse to have any help getting stuff down from the top shelf. Never in my life, have I met someone who had such a tremendous ability to climb on in adamant objects just to reach stuff. The best part of seeing her trying to climb up the stool is the fact that I got a really good look at her ass.
How I miss that ass. How I miss every part of her.
"You look like you hadn't aged a day. Just as beautiful as the last time I saw you," I stated.
"I bet you say that to all of your ex-wives," Mercedes answered back as she hoisted her purse onto the bar counter.
I paused a little before I answered her. "The last time I looked, you were my only ex-wife," I said simply and I took a sip of my drink.
It was then that the bartender came over to us. He placed a napkin and a coaster in front of Mercedes. "Is there anything that I can get you ma'am?" he asked her.
Without skipping a beat, she looked at me and then turned her attention back to the bartender "I'll have what my friend here is having," Mercedes answered.
"One club soda, coming right up," he said as he proceeded to place a glass in front of her and used the spray nozzle to fill her glass up with club soda.
Maybe it was an unconscious thing, but I did catch her looking at me when the bartender mentioned that I was currently nursing a club soda. I could understand her reasoning. The last time she saw me, I was pretty much an alcoholic. Scratch that. I wasn't pretty much an alcoholic; I was very much an alcoholic. Back then my whole being embodied demons that I would give everything that I have in the world for her to have never seen. It was those demons that drove her way.
"Do you want a lime or lemon with that?" the bartender asked her.
"The lady will take lime with that thank you," I answered, before I even realized what I was doing. I guess old habits die hard. Mercedes turned her head to me, with her eyes opened in shock. The emotion didn't stay long. She casted her eyes downward before she turned her head to face the bartender.
The bartender looked at Mercedes for verification. "He's right. I will take a lime, thanks." she replied. The bartender added the lime to her drink and walked over to another customer that appeared at the bar.
"You remembered," she whispered.
"Well, it is not every day that you meet someone who isn't a fan of lemons. As I recall, even pictures of lemons freak you out." I answered amused.
"Well, you know me. I like to be different," Mercedes stated. "Lemons are just so ordinary and I am anything but."
"You got me there," I replied. "Truer words were never spoken."
Mercedes picked up her straw and removed the wrapping from it, before placing it inside her glass to take a sip. Right now, I couldn't decide if the silence between us was comfortable or just plain tragic. When everything went well, conversation had always come easy between us.
After finishing her sip of club soda, Mercedes placed her glass down on the coaster. "Club soda, huh," Mercedes announced simply, looking up at one of the TV's that hung over the bar. It almost felt like she wanted to look at anything but me. Of course, if she hadn't changed in the past decade, she is probably still formulating her thoughts.
"Yeah, six years now," I said. Then I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my wallet. I opened it up and found what I was looking for. I placed my six-year sobriety chip on the bar counter to show her. "It took a lot of fits and starts, but eventually it stuck. Go to meetings twice a week now."
Once I slid the plastic coin over to her, I saw Mercedes looking at it. She was trying to decide if she should pick it up or not. I gave her a slight nod saying that it was okay, before she picked it up with her fingers. She used her gold colored nails to trace the grooves of the coin.
"I am proud of you Sammy," she said as she looked over to me and stared straight into my eyes. "I mean it. I am really proud of you."
I looked over at her and her eyes told me that she was being sincere. That she is proud of me. Up until now, I didn't think that it would be something that I needed to hear. But her reaction just proved me wrong. Just like that, I felt an invisible weight being lifted off my shoulders. Weight that I didn't even know that I had.
She handed the coin back over to me. When our hands touched for a brief moment, I felt the same electricity that I had felt when I held her in my arms that very first time all those years ago. I savored the sensation. I placed the coin back in my wallet and slid it into my back pocket.
I smiled my thanks to her and toyed some more with my drink. I was about to speak when I saw a couple of people walk up to us and stood behind Mercedes. One of them cleared their throat.
"Miss," the female said.
Mercedes turned around and gave the couple a smile. It was a smile that I have always missed. "Yes," she said.
" I .. I mean we," she said as she pointed between her and the gentleman that was with her. "Just wanted to say that you were fantastic out there earlier. I'm still crying. Normally, I would blame the booze for that, but I know that is not the case."
"Thank you for that," Mercedes replied. "Believe me when I say that the pleasure was all mine. It was an honor."
"I didn't mean to interrupt you two, but I just wanted to say that." the stranger said. "It was nice meeting you. Goodnight."
"Good night to you guys as well and have a safe journey home" Mercedes replied and gave a slight wave to them as they turned around to leave.
When I saw them exit out of the club, I turned my attention back over to Mercedes. "What was that about," I asked.
Mercedes just shrugged her shoulders. "It was just a favor that didn't turn out to be a favor after all." she answered. Her reply piqued my curiosity. It was a really cryptic answer.
"Do you want to elaborate on that?" I asked.
"Maybe one day I'll spill." she teased with a twinkle in her eye.
"You know that's not fair," I pouted. "You are going to leave me hanging like that?"
"Oh, you will live." Mercedes answered.
By then, the bartender came back around and asked if she wanted anything else. Mercedes shook her head no and the bartender presented her with the bill. She signed the bill and proceeded to slide off the barstool.
"Seeing them, made me realize how long of a day I have had. I am calling it a night." she said as she grabbed her purse of the bar counter and slouched it on her shoulder. "It was really great to see you again. I'm glad to know that you are okay. Take care of yourself."
That got my attention. I may not know much, but I do know that I do not want Mercedes to walk out of my life again. She reappeared in my life for a reason. My mom always said, that if life ever gives you a second chance, you should reach out, grab it with both hands, and never let go. Now, I have never really been a religious man, but I do believe that Mercedes being here is a sign of something. I would be a fool to let this second chance go.
"Mercedes?" I said as I stepped down from off the stool and walked over to her.
She turned around to face me. "Yes, Sam?"
"Can we talk?" I asked her. "I mean, can we really talk? I know that we cannot do it here, right in the middle of a bar, surrounded by people, with a piano playing in the background and the sounds of slots in our ears. What I am trying to say …. " I raised my arms up and placed both of my palms on my forehead and quickly brought them back down in exasperation. "What I am trying to say …. rather clumsily that is … that I don't want you to go."
I stared at Mercedes in hoping that she would say something. She was just looking back at me, but I could not read her face. So, I continued. "How long are you in Vegas?"
"I fly home on Tuesday." Mercedes said simply.
The moment that Mercedes answered my question, I let out a breath that I didn't know that I was holding. "So, are you open to talking?" I pressed my luck. "I didn't like the way that things ended with us and there is so much to say. So much that I need for you to hear."
Mercedes was still staring at me, like she was reading me, studying me. Maybe she was just trying to decide if this conversation would be good for her to hear or even if she wanted to hear it at all. But I didn't back down. Emotionally I was a nervous wreck and my hands were sweating, but I stood my ground as I waited for her answer.
"Give me your phone," Mercedes ordered.
"Huh?" I replied. I was expecting a yes or no answer. I wasn't expecting a question.
"I said, give me your phone," Mercedes repeated. "Please."
I turned around and went back over to the barstool to grab my jacket that was hanging on the back. Reached inside the pocket, pulled out the phone, and handed it to her. She took the phone and looked at it. When I noticed that she was doing a swiping motion, she paused a little bit, but then started punching away.
Mercedes started to giggle. Pretty soon I found out why she was giggling. "I cannot believe that the lock code on your phone is still the same. You really need to change it."
"Now, why should I change it? You and I are the only ones who know what my code is." I countered.
Mercedes just shook her head and proceeded to punch in numbers. It was then that I heard a phone chime go off in her purse. She disconnected the call and handed my phone back to me. "My number is now in your phone and your number is now in my phone."
"Thanks," I said. "So, does this mean that you are open for us to talk?"
She nodded her head. "I wouldn't have given you my number if I wasn't. You're right. Ten years is a long time for silence."
"I know that it is pushing 3 AM right now, but would you like to meet for breakfast?" I asked.
"Well, I have a hot stone massage scheduled at 8. How about if we make it a late breakfast? Let's say around 10:00?"
"10:00 is fine with me. How about we meet at Mystique?"
"10:00 at Mystique," Mercedes repeated. "Got it. I will see you then Sam. Goodnight."
With that, she is gone, and I am left alone with my thoughts. Right now, my thoughts are telling me that I need to get out of this bar and head back to my room. In a few hours, I will have the most important conversation of my life and I can't afford to fuck it up. I need to get some rest and have a clear head.
I fucked up my relationship with her once. I will be damned if I am going to do it again.
MERCEDES
I swiped my key card into the door lock on my room and went inside. Tossed my purse on the bar counter as I walked around it to get behind the bar. I grabbed a bottle of gin from behind the bar, located a glass, and pour me a fingers worth. Before I knew it, I threw that sucker back and then proceeded to pour me another.
"What in the Hell did I just do?" I asked myself as I felt the liquid from my second glass burn its way down the back of my throat.
In the span of 5 minutes, I have gone through a wide range of emotions when it came to my encounter with Sam downstairs. I lost the number of emotional switches that I made on the elevator ride alone. Chances are, security had a lovely view of my mental breakdown.
"I am having breakfast with Sam in a few hours! How do I get myself into these messes?" I thought to myself.
I put the glass in the sink and walked over to the couch, kicked my shoes off and plopped myself down on it. I grabbed the remote and turned on the fireplace. Looking at my watch, I found that Sam was right. It was approaching 3 AM. Unfortunately, I cannot sleep. After the events of the last 30 minutes, I was too wired to sleep. My brain was conjuring up a bunch of doom day scenarios when it came to my meeting Sam in a few hours.
In the end, I decided that I needed someone to talk me down. With that in mind, I got up and went back over to the bar to grab my purse and brought it back over to couch. After a desperate search inside my purse, I pulled out my cellphone. After unlocking it, I saw Sam's phone number flash in front of me as a missed call. Before I had too much time to think about it, I updated the information, so I could save his information into my contacts.
This time of night, there is only one person that I can call. I found the name that I was looking for in the contacts and proceeded to hit the send icon on my phone to dial the call. Before I knew it, the voice that I needed to hear greeted me with a smile in her voice.
"Hey there Merce!" Bree greeted me enthusiastically on the other end of the phone.
"Hey girl!" I replied. "I hope that I am not calling you too late. I did the mental time zone countdown in my head, but I wasn't sure if Sydney was 14 or 15 hours ahead of us."
"Oh no, sweetie. It is only 8 PM here. You're fine."
"I'm not interrupting anything am I?"
"No, I am just hanging out in my trailer getting my hair done while the camera guys figure out the lighting that they want to use in the scene," Bree said. "And even if you were interrupting, you always know that you would come first."
I have known Bree Thayer since college. It was Sugar, Bree, Brittany, and myself against the world. We were 4 different people, with 4 different backgrounds, but we always have each other's back. Out of the 4 of us, Bree was the beauty. If there was a pageant, then she won it. Her milk caramel complexion and her swan like grace made her stand out of the crowd. She also had these astonishing blue eyes that did not come from a contacts box. Once we graduated from Northwestern, she packed up everything that she had owned and moved to Los Angeles in the hopes of getting into acting.
After a lot of hard work and some embarrassment, she finally made it. Now the only title she holds is Queen of the Red Carpet. Both the fashion world and the photographers at large look forward with great anticipation to see what glorious glamorous gown that she is going to grace the world with. Due to this, Bree was touted as being this generations Halle Berry. Winning the Oscar 2 years ago for Best Actress, pretty much sealed the comparison. I remember the 3 of us flying out to Los Angeles and camping out at her house as we watched the Oscars on television. Once it was over, she headed home to change, and then we went out to all of the parties, so we could celebrate her accomplishment with her. That night, Bree was being very generous. She allowed each of us to hold her Oscar for about 5 minutes.
Right now, she is in Sydney, Australia filming a romantic comedy with Chris Evans.
"The life of a movie star," I giggled into my phone.
"Well, the glamorous life has you waiting all of the time," Bree said. "So, Sugar tells me that Preston is treating you to a weekend in Vegas right now. How's it going? Are you having a good time?" she wanted to know.
"To answer your question, up until about an hour ago, it was a perfect vacation."
"Talk about sounding ominous. What happened?"
"It is a long story. The reason for my call is I need your advice. Help me OB1 Kenobi, you are my only hope."
"Oh my! This seriously must be bad if you are quoting Star Wars. Spill."
"I saw Sam," I blurted out.
"Sam?" Bree questioned.
"Sam, Sam," I countered
"SAM! I do not like green eggs and ham, Sam I am, Sam," Bree shockingly said as the light bulb went off in her head.
"That's the one. My ex-husband."
"Where?" Bree wanted to know.
"Downstairs. I spotted him right before I left Symmetry."
"Awkward! So, did you talk to him?
"Yeah."
"Okay girl, tell me everything! Does he live in Vegas? What was he doing at the Montecito?" Bree peppered me with questions.
"Well, I didn't get that far to find out," I answered. Then I proceeded to tell Bree everything about what happened in the last few hours. Bree was silent as she listened to me tell my tale.
"It definitely does sound like he has finally gotten his life together. That is good thing, right?" Bree asked.
"Yeah. It is a good thing. I mean, I told him that I was proud that he had dealt with his alcoholism. I am proud that he had managed to put it in his rear-view mirror, but…"
"But what?" Bree prodded.
"Just that this whole thing came out of the blue. Yet at the same time it didn't." I answered.
"What does that mean?"
"It means that I had a dream about Sam. It happened on my flight to Las Vegas yesterday. My dream replayed the conversation from the day that I had left him. It was so vivid. I still remember the look on his face." I whispered. "Bree, I hadn't thought about Sam in years. I hadn't even so much as dream about him. But the one time I do have a dream about him, I see him a few hours later. How fucked up is that?"
"So how does all of this make you feel Merce?"
I removed my feet from the floor, lifted my legs, brought them to the couch, and tucked them underneath me on the couch, "Confused. Hopelessly confused," I answered. "If it was my work life, I would know exactly what to do. I wouldn't even break a sweat. But I am 32. I am no longer a teenager. But when I saw him again, I reverted back to that 21-year-old who had met Sam for the first time. My heart stopped. Butterflies entered my stomach. When he touched my hand, my skin felt like it was on fire. He looked at me and I felt like I was going into a puddle on the floor. It was a rush. All of that happened in a span of 15 minutes. Now I am meeting him for breakfast in a few hours. What in the Hell am I doing!"
Bree sat at her makeup station inside her trailer as she listened on the other end of the phone line as her friend rattled on. She was getting the final touches done to her hair. Her hairdresser was removing the rollers from Bree's hair as she was absorbing everything that Mercedes was saying.
Mercedes has always been the cool, level headed one. The planner. The organizer. She was the one that made sure that we were protected. She was the person that we leaned on the most. The person that we all turned to in a crisis. She was the strong one. Some would say that she was the momma hen. I say that she was the glue that held us together. To hear that her friend was being rattled, worried me more than anything.
When my brother was killed in a car accident our junior year at Northwestern, I wasn't in any emotional shape to do anything. Mercedes held me as I cried. She packed my suitcase, spoke with my professors about the situation and obtained my school assignments. She even drove me back home to Detroit, Michigan for the funeral, held my hand through it, in addition she stayed with me. Merce was my rock. But it is very weird that the shoe was on the other foot this time.
"What you are doing is you are allowing yourself to feel," Bree answered.
"What is that supposed to mean," Mercedes asked.
"Girl, you know me. I am brutal truth. So right now, I am going to give you some Bree honesty 101. The only time that I have ever had a filter was in beauty pageants and even then, I only did it to get the crown. So, I am going to give it to ya straight. Tonight, you felt something that you have forced yourself not to feel for almost a decade. You walked away from Sam and I know that it was something that you needed to do. It wasn't easy for you to do that, but you understood that with the way that things were going, you had no choice. I fully supported you in that decision.
"To make a long story short, you still love Sam. You have never stopped. Your love for him hasn't even diminished one iota since you both signed the divorce papers. It definitely didn't diminish enough to let anyone else into your brain, blood, much less your heart. You have spent the last 10 years being cold as ice to anyone of the opposite sex that wants to be anything more than a friend to you. Sure, you have dated, but you have never let any of these guys in. Instead of actually feeling some type of emotion for another guy, you threw yourself into work. Chances are, your diaphragm hasn't been used in so long, it probably has cobwebs."
"BREE!" Mercedes shouted.
"Don't Bree me Mercedes Jones," Bree admonished. "You know that I am speaking the truth. Here are some more truth bombs for you. If what I have said wasn't the case, Finn would be with you right now instead of resuming his life in Seattle."
"What does Finn have to do with anything?"
"Plenty," Bree continued. "When I first met him, I could tell that he was beyond crazy about you. At the same time, I knew you well enough to know that you did not respond in kind. The man was tall, handsome, a lawyer, and he treated you like a queen. But the reason why he didn't want to move with you to Chicago was the fact that he knew that he would never have your heart and that was the only thing he wanted from you. So, when your promotion came along, he decided to cut his losses. There was no point in picking up your life and moving to a new town for someone who flat out refuses to give you everything. One of those, if you love her, you would let her go kind of things."
Mercedes listened to what her friend had to say. It was late, she hadn't slept, and she was doing her best to have what Bree was saying sink into her brain. "How do you know about any of that?"
"Let's just say that Finn and I have friends in common and just leave it at that. Contrary to what it looks like on a map, the world is a really small place."
"So, what should I do?" I asked her.
"You should put on a really nice, comfortable outfit, and meet him for breakfast in the morning. It is time to face your past and to hash all of this out. The only way you are going to ever be able to move on with your life is for you to deal with it, because you never have. Ten years ago, you ran off to another city and didn't look back. After a while, running becomes exhausting. Aren't you tired of running?"
"I'm scared Bree."
"I know. But I also imagine that he is too. I am sure that it wasn't easy for him to even ask you to meet him for breakfast. Look girl. I know that you can do this. You are the strongest person that I know. If I was in the exact same spot that you are in, you would have given me the exact same advice."
"Thank you for being there."
"Anytime my friend," Bree replied. "I would stay on longer, but a PA just came in and informed me that I am needed on the set. So, it is time for me to go and earn my paycheck."
"Alright, speaking of paycheck, have you macked on Chris Evans yet? I imagine that he is a delicious snack."
Bree laughed. "I will never tell. I guess you will just have to watch the movie. Love ya girl!"
"Love ya too. Thanks again for everything."
"Call me back later and fill me in on your breakfast date. Oh, what I wouldn't give to be a fly on that wall when you meet Sam in a few hours. Bye girl!" With that, Bree disconnected the call.
After I had hung up the phone from Bree, I just sat on the couch and watched the flickering flame from the electric fireplace dance in front of me. I just needed to take the time to absorb everything that Bree was telling me.
I came to the conclusion that she is right. Running is exhausting.
"I'm going to bed," I said out loud to no one in particular.
Up next, breakfast at Mystique with Sam and Mercedes. Will they be able to pick up where they left off or is there still too much hurt?
Until We Meet Again ... Good Morning Bunnies!