Thank you for your continued interest and support. I do not own Glee or the characters, neither do I own Stuck-Up Suit.
As promised...bonus chapter.
SAM
My phone vibrated just as I was leaving the office.
"Jennifer."
"Why haven't you answered my texts?"
"Busy day."
"I was hoping you could come by after work. We need to talk about what happened between us."
"I'm already on my way there to see Madison."
"Alright. We'll see you when you get here."
The last thing I was in the mood for was to rehash the other night with Jennifer.
Up to my ears in work from having been preoccupied over the past few weeks, the last two nights I'd skipped going to see my daughter...again...because it was way passed her bedtime by the time I left work.
That couldn't happen again. I planned to have dinner with her tonight before heading back to the office after hours.
Rain drops were pelting the windows of the town car as I left work.
And almost every night on the way home, I'd instinctually go to text Mercedes, forgetting for a split second that we were done.
Then that awful acidic feeling of reality souring in the pit of my stomach would linger.
It angered me that I'd trusted her so fully.
After what happened with Jennifer and Callum, I was probably the least trusting person around. But I would've trusted Mercedes with my life.
How could I have not seen a change of heart coming?
The whole thing just didn't make any fucking sense.
"Not sure how long I'll be here, Mitch. I'll text you when I'm ready to head back to the office," I said as we pulled up to Jennifer's brownstone.
At the door, Jennifer greeted me, taking my wet jacket and hanging it up.
She stood there awkwardly, playing with her pearls.
"About the other night…I..."
"Can we please not discuss this until I've seen my daughter?"
"Okay." She looked down at the floor. "She's in her room."
I headed up to my daughter's room. She was playing with her dollhouse.
"Sam I Am! I missed you."
Bending down and pulling her into a hug, I said,
"I missed you, too, sweetheart."
"Are you still sad?" she asked.
"What do you mean?"
"About Mercedes?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Your smile isn't as big as it usually is."
She was so perceptive.
Apparently, she didn't take after her clueless father.
But the last thing I wanted was for my daughter to think that something was seriously wrong with me or that it might've been her fault.
Trying to wrack my brain for a way to explain, I ultimately decided that it was better to just be honest.
"I am a little sad, Madi...about Mercedes. But that's not why I wasn't here over the past two days. I got out of work very late, but I won't let another two days go by without coming to see you again, okay?"
"My daddy used to work late a lot."
I wondered how much of that was actually work or Callum just fucking around on Jennifer.
"He did, did he?"
She nodded.
"So, when will you stop being sad?" she asked.
"Not sure, but you know what? I already feel better just being here with you."
"That was how I felt when I met you. After my daddy died, you made me feel better even though I was still sad."
'I AM your Daddy,' I screamed internally. 'And I love you so much.'
Pulling her into me, I kissed her forehead.
"I'm glad I could do that for you."
Madison and I played with her dollhouse for a bit until Jennifer entered and knelt down to join us.
I could feel her staring at me, knowing she was eager to discuss 'things'.
But after the other night, I was apprehensive about being alone with her again. Although with my daughter home, not much was going to be able to go down.
"Dinner will be ready in five," she said before exiting the room.
Jennifer had baked a homemade prosciutto and fig flatbread pizza for the two of us and a plain cheese one for Madison.
I noticed she kept filling my wine glass with Cabernet. And I let her, knowing it would help take the edge off of whatever discussion we were going to have later.
After I had tucked Madison in and read her a bedtime story, I found Jennifer waiting for me in the kitchen, polishing off the last of the wine.
And before she could open her mouth, I said,
"There's really no need to get into it. What's done is done."
"I know. But I need to apologize again. I came on too strongly. I don't know what came over me. But seeing you lying there so comfortably in my house, it just took me back. That, coupled with the fact that we'd had too much to drink..."
"It wasn't the alcohol, and you know it. You've made your intentions very clear for some time. And I think you planned for things to happen the way they did."
"You're right. Inebriated or not, I want you back, Sam. And I'll do whatever it takes to have the opportunity to make you happy again."
"I was happy. Without you. You thought that showing me your pussy was going to make me forget everything? What you did?"
When she had disrobed in front of me that night, I'd jumped up off the couch and demanded that she put her clothes back on.
She'd actually seemed shocked at my rejection.
Whatever.
"Did you assume that because of my breakup with Mercedes, that I was going to give in? What happened with her won't change the fact that I simply can't ever trust you again, Jennifer. And while I think you'd be great for a quick revenge fuck, I'm sure as hell not going to screw you if I have no intention of ever being with you."
She flinched. But as I said before...whatever. She needed to know I was never ever going to get back together with her again.
"You're not thinking straight, Sam. We have a small window of opportunity now to change our daughter's life. I'm not going to be able to wait around for you forever."
"Let me save you some time." I leaned in. "Stop waiting."
"You don't know what you're saying. How can you just close the door on that possibility so easily?"
"You closed the door, Jennifer. You closed it and threw the fucking key away."
"I made a mistake!"
"Shh. You'll wake her," I said. Closing my eyes for composure, I took a deep breath and said, "Madison will always have my love. You, as her mother, will always have my respect. But you lost your chance at a future with me the day you decided to betray my trust. I want my daughter to have self-respect. And for that, I need to set a good example by holding onto my own."
Unable to tolerate any more of this conversation, I walked over to where my jacket was hanging and put it on.
"My driver is outside. I need to get back to the office. Thank you for dinner. I'll be back tomorrow night."
My office was completely dark, except for a small amount of light coming from the green banker's lamp on my desk.
Fidgeting with my watch, all I could think about was that fucking pile of newspapers taunting me from across the room.
Over the past week, I'd repeatedly nixed the idea of going through all of the Ask Sue responses for any potential clues into Mercedes' mindset.
But between admitting my sadness to my daughter and the argument with Jennifer tonight, I was feeling weaker.
Bringing the stack over to my desk, I sifted through each edition's Ask Sue column like a lunatic.
And after thoroughly dissecting over a dozen responses, nothing stood out as unusual.
That is, until I got to response number twenty...
A woman had written in with a dilemma about whether or not she should break up with her boyfriend whom she was deeply in love with.
All so he could get back together with the mother of his child.
For the sake of that child.
I looked at the date, which was shortly before me and Mercedes broke up. And I noted the other details outlined exactly what happened with Jennifer and I.
My heart started to hammer against my chest.
The name...Patricia. Address...Brooklyn.
Patricia was Mercedes' stepmother's name.
If there was any doubt that she had written in the question, the response only confirmed it.
Because she acted on it and did exactly as it said.
Sue's advice was to break up with the boyfriend and suggested that 'Patricia' make it appear as though she was cheating on him, so that the poor fool would cut her off more easily.
Smart over heart, Sue had advised.
Right about now I'd like to show Sue how 'smart' I was, by introducing her to some colorful language in addition to a few hand gestures.
I threw the newspaper across the room. Everything was starting to make sense.
Mercedes lied.
She wasn't really dating that...man. She was pretending to.
Suddenly, anger over Sue's response transformed into elation.
And somehow, I'd never been happier to learn for the first time in my entire life, that someone had lied to me.
I read the beginning of the question again.
I've been dating a man for almost two months who I've fallen deeply in love with.
She'd fallen in love with me.
Deeply.
I froze, paralyzed first by shock, then intense relief, then an overwhelming urge to just get to her.
'I fell deeply too, baby. So fucking deep.'
I immediately picked up my phone and dialed her number.
It kept ringing and went to voicemail.
So I dialed it again.
Same thing.
I wrote out a text.
Sam: Where are you?
There was no answer after five minutes. So I texted again.
Sam: I need to see you. Are you home?
Unable to wait any longer, I grabbed my coat and called for Mitch to pick me up.
I needed answers.
I needed my girl back.
When we arrived at Mercedes' apartment in Brooklyn, there was no answer.
Looking up at the window, I could see that the lights were off.
Where the fuck was she?
"Where to next, sir?" Mitch asked as I returned to the car.
"Eighth Avenue. Puck's Tattoo Shop."
When we arrived, I told Mitch to wait outside; I was going to need that car ready to book it once I got Noah to tell me where Mercedes was.
Noah blew out the last of his cigarette just as I entered.
"Suit! What the hell are you doing here? It's late. We're about to close."
"Where is she?"
"She's not here."
"Where is she?" I repeated louder.
"She's in California with Quinn."
"California?"
"Yeah. They went on a girls' trip. Just the two of them."
"Where are they staying?"
"I'm not telling you where they're staying. You're her fucking crazy ex!"
"I need to call the hotel they're staying at. She's not answering her phone. Actually, call Quinn. Tell her I need to speak to Mercedes."
"No!"
I approached him, getting uncomfortably close to his face.
"Give me the info, Noah. You have no idea what I'm capable of in this state of mind."
"Oh, I know what you're capable of, pretty boy. You wrecked my cousin Marcus' jaw."
And right at that moment he seemed to realize that he'd slipped up. His cousin. He was in on the act.
"Just as I surmised. He's not her boyfriend at all, is he?"
"I didn't say that."
"I read the fucking Ask Sue column, Noah. I know she made the whole thing up. Whether you admit to it or not I know the truth. You need to tell me where she is."
"So you can do what? Charter your fancy jet to California? With your money, you can hire a private investigator. You're not getting her whereabouts from me."
A light bulb went off in my brain as I walked over to a small box hidden in the corner of the shop.
"What's this over here? Your stash of weed? I bet the cops would love to know about this."
"You wouldn't do that..."
"Try me. I will do anything to get to Mercedes right now. Do I look like I'm kidding?"
"Jesus! Your fucking eyes look demonic."
"Tell me where she is, Noah!"
He angrily scrolled through his phone and wrote an address down on a scrap of paper before handing it to me.
"Here. It's Quinn's brother's condo in Hermosa Beach."
I patted the paper to my chest and walked backwards to the door.
"Thank you. No hard feelings. I wouldn't have snitched on you, though. Mercedes would never speak to me again if I did that. And I couldn't risk that because I really fucking love that woman."
"Whatever, MBP."
For the first time, Noah looked like he actually believed me. He shook his head, his mouth curving into a slight smile.
"You'd better not hurt her, Suit."
I hopped the next commercial flight to LAX.
But when I arrived at the condo, no one was there.
Mercedes' phone continued to go to voicemail as did Quinn's.
At least, I knew she'd be coming back here. According to Noah, they were scheduled to be here another few days.
Taking a walk down to the beach, I decided I needed to let her know I was here. So I started shooting off a series of texts to her, pouring my heart out, even though she hadn't been responding to any of my messages.
I hadn't been paying attention and somehow knocked into a muscular man walking a little spotted goat.
What the fuck?
"Watch where you're goin', mate," he said with an Australian accent.
"Sorry, man. My head is not together today."
"You alright?"
"I'm looking for someone."
He nodded his head knowingly.
"A woman."
"What gave it away?"
"You remind me of myself a few years back, roaming this beach, lovesick over my Ashley...oblivious to everyone around me. It all works out if it's meant to be, you know."
"Why are you…walking a goat?"
"It's a long story. But if you want to take a walk with us, I'll give you the deets. It'll get your mind off the woman for a bit…till you find her."
The guy's name was Charles Bowman. He was a former Australian soccer star, now living in Hermosa Beach.
He told me the story of how he'd met his wife, Ashley, at a rest stop in Nebraska.
They went on an adventurous road trip together but ended up getting separated for some time after.
But things worked out in the end.
I proceeded to share my own story with him. The one big similarity was that we'd each met our women in the unlikeliest of places.
"Think about it, mate. These are not coincidences. An Australian and an uptight princess from Chicago happen to connect in the middle of bumfuck Nebraska. Yet, she was my soulmate. And you…you said you didn't normally take the train. But for some reason, that morning you did. You have to trust in fate. It's all written. Doesn't matter if it's today or in two years. If it's meant to be, it will happen one way or the other."
Charles looked down at his phone.
"Gotta run. You're a good chap. If it all works out with your lady, you should bring her by our house for some brekky before you leave town."
This guy was probably one of the most charismatic people I'd ever met.
I smiled for the first time in what felt like forever.
"I just might take you up on that."
He patted me once on the shoulder.
"Good luck, mate."
As if to say goodbye, the goat let out a long,
"Baa."
Watching him walk away with the animal, I shook my head in amazement.
Then I shot out one additional text to Mercedes, still unsure if she'd received any of my other texts from earlier.
Sam: I just ran into a man walking a fucking goat!
Stay safe!