SUMMARY: Ashley's adoration of Sam grows, worrying Mercedes. The couple have a heart-to-heart talk about the situation.

RATING: Mature. Sex and language.

CHAPTER 33


SECRETS AND DESIRES

As Sam and Mercedes cleaned the kitchen after dinner, his phone vibrated on the counter. It was Ashley. At first, he ignored it, thinking she would leave a message. But when she called again, he wondered if she wanted to discuss the latest renovation project. He knew meeting the project deadlines worried Ashley a lot. Sam answered the phone, thinking it was an emergency.

"Hi, Ashley," he said as he placed a greasy pan into hot soapy water. They had roast chicken for dinner, and the kitchen smelled like rosemary and lemons.

"Hi Sam, sorry to call so late, but the window manufacturer won't have that model you want until next spring."

"Next spring? That's too late."

"I know. I've been searching for other manufacturers but haven't found anything. Do you want to change the design?"

"Let me think about it. I'll get back to you tomorrow. Thanks for calling."

But Ashley kept talking as if she hadn't heard him. "I'm taking an online course on fenestration surveys, and I could help with some suggestions."

Sam wiped the counter and closed the dishwasher door.

"Another course? That's too much. Don't you have a full load already?"

"That's what Robert said." "See, I'm not the only one who thinks you're doing too much." "It's not too much if it's your passion." "True."

"I like how Robert appreciates my fascination for crumbling buildings. But he's too modern sometimes. Not sure how to handle it."

Sam sat down at the kitchen table, and Mercedes placed a cup of Earl Grey tea in front of him and sat beside him. He wasn't sure what to say to Ashley and wanted to get off the phone. Robert was a guy she met on a dating app. He was a fifth-grade math teacher. They had been dating for a few months, and Sam thought Robert sounded like a decent man. Ashley showed him his picture; he was ordinary and unassuming in his jeans, t-shirt, and glasses.

"I'm sure you'll work it out," Sam said, grabbing Mercedes' hand and kissing it. "Listen, I've got to run. I'm about to—"

Ashley rambled on, oblivious to his attempt to end the call. "He plays video games too much and is always on Twitch. I hate that, but he's also sweet and caring. I wish he would do something romantic like write me a handwritten letter instead of texting."

"Letters are nice but -," Sam said before Ashley interrupted.

"See, you get it. You would write a love letter. I bet you've done that, haven't you?"

"Yes, I have. But look, you haven't been dating long. Give it time."

"I'll try."

"Listen, it's late, and I have some stuff to do."

"I'm sorry for keeping you. See you tomorrow."

After she hung up, Sam looked over at Mercedes, who was staring at him.

"What did she want?"

"We need to find a different model for the windows, and she wants her boyfriend to write her a love letter."

"The windows thing, I get, but why is she complaining about her boyfriend to you?"

Sam took another sip of tea.

"I guess she feels comfortable with me."

"Hmm," Mercedes said, "Do you want to watch Ozarks or Squid Game?"

Sam put his arm around her.

"Let's skip Netflix. Fill the tub with lavender bubble bath. Lock the bathroom door, and not come out until we're wrinkled like prunes."

Mercedes smiled, kissing his cheek.

"That sounds wonderful."


The following evening, Ashley called again as Sam and Mercedes were getting ready for bed. Mercedes was putting on her silk hair bonnet, and Sam was changing into his pajamas. Sam wanted to crawl under the covers and hold Mercedes close to his heart. Both had a terrible day. His client was behind on payments, and Mercedes had argued with a student about vocal runs. She also got a flat tire on the way home from the grocery store.

After the daily family prayer in the den, which raised their spirits, Sam was still exhausted. But the ringing persisted, and he wondered if it was an urgent matter. Mercedes looked over at him as she rubbed lavender lotion on her elbows.

"Is it Ashley?"

"Yeah."

Mercedes said nothing and squirted more lotion into her hands, averting his gaze. Sam answered the phone.

"Hi Ashley."

"Hi Sam, my Aunt Agnes died."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."

"Thank you. I tried to call Robert, but he won't answer," she said. "I can't believe she's gone."

Sam tried to think of something comforting to say. Ashley began to cry.

"I'm flying to Phoenix tomorrow. I can't believe Robert didn't answer the phone."

"Get some rest. Again, I'm so sorry. Don't worry about work. We'll manage."

Ashley continued to cry, and Sam listened to her bawling until she hiccupped and said, "Thank you so much, Sam. I knew you would be there for me."

"Good night."

After ending the call, Sam looked over at Mercedes, who was switching off the bedside lamp.

"Her favorite aunt died."

"That's terrible."

"She said she tried calling Robert, but he wouldn't answer."

Mercedes kissed him.

"Let's get some rest."

Sam silenced his phone, got under the covers, and pulled her close.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you too."


One Month Later

Mercedes was putting a load of clothes into the washing machine when her phone rang. It was Ashley.

"Hi Mercedes, how are you?"

"Fine, and you?"

"Hanging in there. Listen, do you know where Sam is?"

Mercedes heard classical music in the background and the clang of pots and pans.

"At the Town Archives, why?"

"He's not answering his phone. The board meeting with the Star Pride Preservation Council is starting soon. He needs to give them some updates."

"I'll call him. He's probably getting carried away with his research."

"Yeah, our guy can lose track of time, can't he?" Ashley said.

"Uh, yeah, he can," Mercedes said, pouring detergent into the dispenser.

"Oops, hold on." Ashley said, "Be right back."

Mercedes heard some commotion, and then Ashley returned to the phone.

"Sorry about that. I'm making beef wellington for dinner, and the meat is temperamental," she said. "When you call Sam, ask him if he hears Edna knocking on the fifth floor."

"Huh?"

"He'll know what I mean. Talk to you later. Bye."

Ashley hung up before Mercedes could say anything else. She felt unsettled. The doorbell rang, and it was her 2:00 appointment. After she got her client, Danielle, situated in the studio, she called Sam, who answered right away.

"Hey, angel."

"Ashley's been trying to reach you. You need to get to your board meeting."

"Damn, you're right. I'll call her now."

"Oh, and she wants to know if Edna was knocking on the fifth floor."

Sam laughed hard, the kind of laugh he reserved for joyous moments and raunchy jokes.

"I'm glad you're amused," Mercedes said, leaning against the wall and gazing out the window.

"Sorry, she's talking about the ghost of Edna Sprouse; there's this legend that—"

"Baby, I can't chat now; Danielle is here."

"Ok, no worries, have a good session. I love you."

"I love you too. Bye."


On Saturday morning, Mercedes met Tina downtown at the local coffee shop, Bean Here, Done That. They wanted to catch up since both had been busy with their jobs and kids the past few months. Rosy, Jake, and Abby were in Dusk Hollow visiting their grandparents, and Sam was with Finn on a hiking trip. They enjoyed going to Bean There, Done That because of the homemade donuts. The coffee was wonderful, but the donuts were spectacular. There were only four flavors: blueberry, plain, glazed, and cinnamon sugar. The coffee shop also had Limited Edition Fridays. This is when they offered unusual flavors like Sweet Bourbon and Roasted Cherry. Still, she and Tina always returned to the "fantastic four," as they called them. Sitting in a pink leather booth near the window, they sipped on frothy vanilla lattes with honey. They munched on warm, deep-fried blueberry donuts. All golden brown on the outside and purplish blue on the inside. Fresh, plump blueberries dotted each donut. The coffee shop served lattes in pink ceramic donut-shaped mugs.

"It's the lard," Tina said, biting into her donut, "That's what makes these things so damn good."

"Whatever it is, it works," Mercedes said, dipping her donut into her latte. The creamy foam dripped from the edges of the pastry.

"So, what's new?" Tina asked.

"First, thank you for those candles. Sam and I had some amazing sex." "I swear, sandalwood is an aphrodisiac."

"Tell me about it."

"And the massage?"

"He was screaming from here to Kingdom Come."

"Can I get an amen?" Tina said, raising her mug,

"Here's to future orgasms."

Mercedes laughed, clinking her mug against Tina's.

"Things are great, except I have a problem."

"What is it?" "Remember how I found a bottle of Pearly Gates to give Sam for his birthday?"

"I do. You said you found a vintage spirits dealer in North Star who had a bottle sell from his rare collection."

"Well, I was too late. Somebody bought it."

"I thought he said he would hold it for you."

"He claims his assistant sold it by mistake. Or some bullshit. I don't know. Anyway, I'm back to square one. Pearly Gates is like the holy grail for vintage collectors. He was my last hope. That would be the ultimate gift for Sam. And now that we know Christmas Tinsley was the true creator, it's even more precious. I'll keep looking, but my time is running out. Every dealer I've contacted laughed or said they sold their only bottle years ago. They were like, "Even the best dusty hunters" have trouble tracking it down."

"Dusty hunters?"

"People who collect vintage spirits."

"Oh."

"I wanted to get him something special."

"You wrote that song."

"I know but…"

"It's a beautiful song, Mercedes, and it came from your heart. that will mean more to him than old booze."

"Well… even if I can't get it for his birthday. No harm in keeping up the search. Maybe I'll have it by Christmas. Do you think my song is beautiful?"

"It'll blow him away. Trust me."

Mercedes sipped her latte.

"I hope you're right."

"When have I ever been wrong?"

"Plenty of times."

"Oh, come on. I'm 99.9 percent accurate," Tina said, breaking a cinnamon sugar donut in half and taking a bite. "I wouldn't steer you wrong. "

Mercedes laughed.

"I know. I like messing with you."

"What else is wrong?" Tina asked as she licked cinnamon sugar from her fingertips.

"How did you know something else was wrong?"

"Because I know you. That's how."

Mercedes sighed.

"You know Sam's assistant, Ashley?

"Yes, what about her?"

"She calls him a lot."

"You mean like after hours?"

"Yes." "

"Are they talking about work?"

"At first, they are, but then it gets personal."

Tina raised her eyebrows.

"Mercedes, are you eavesdropping?" "No, of course not. He's having these conversations when I'm in the room with him."

"What do you mean by personal?"

"She'll talk to him about her love life."

"Does he give her advice?"

"Sometimes. For the most part, he listens. I don't know. It feels weird."

"Have you ever met her?"

"Only on the phone."

"What are your conversations with her like?"

"Nothing strange. She'll call me when she's looking for Sam, when he's running late for an appointment or needs some business info. She's always pleasant and professional. But she said something once that gave me pause."

"What was it?"

"She called Sam 'our guy' like he belonged to us. I about it whenever she calls him after work. And it's not just the dating advice; their little jokes about history bother me too. She's getting a historical preservation degree or something like that. She inspires Sam's inner geek. I don't know about that stuff."

"Nobody needs to inspire Sam's inner geek. He's a geek all on his own. And he immortalized you in blue crystal. I doubt he needs you to recite historical facts."

Mercedes chuckled.

"True."

"You're feeling insecure because they share an interest, and she has the hots for him."

"I sense she does. Sam says she's a great assistant, smart and efficient. I love my husband, but when a woman flirts with him, he doesn't always catch on. She must do something drastic."

"Have you told Sam how you feel?"

Mercedes shook her head.

"No, I don't know what I would say. Nothing is happening."

"Nothing is happening… yet."

"I trust Sam."

"I'm not worried about Sam. I'm worried about that young thing who's asking him for dating advice and sharing geeky jokes. Doesn't she have friends?"

Mercedes shrugged, taking a bite of her plain donut.

"I don't know. She hasn't lived here long."

"What's her last name?"

"De Young."

Tina Googled Ashley De Young and found her picture, and then handed the phone to Mercedes.

"Ashley is ok, if you don't like seasoning. She's got nothing on you, that's for sure."

Mercedes took the phone and gazed at the picture of Ashley. The slender, raven-haired woman seemed harmless. Her hair was in a sleek ponytail, and she wore a purple polka-dot sundress with a full skirt and petticoat. She stood in front of a dilapidated Victorian house, squinting in the sun. A naive waif in Mercedes' eyes.

"At least I can put a face to a name."

"I want to know why she's dressed like Gidget."

"She's into vintage. Sam mentioned it to me once."

Mercedes scrolled through Ashley's Instagram. Most of the pics were of old buildings. Then she stopped on a photo of Ashley and Sam. They stood in front of the restored Monarch Mansion in west Star Pride. The caption said: "We saved the beautiful Monarch Mansion. So much history restored. I have the best boss ever! Sam Hummel is everything! Learning so much from him! #restoration rocks #preserve old things."

They weren't hugging, kissing, or doing anything inappropriate. Sam smiled into the camera as if he wanted to escape, like a celebrity placating an adoring fan. Ashley beamed, glowed even, and pressed against his side. Her sleeveless white eyelet dress, showed off her sunburned arms. Sam was in jeans and a pressed white shirt. Mercedes hated the picture. She handed the phone to Tina.

"Look at that."

Tina stared at the photo.

"Sam looks uncomfortable."

"She took it a few weeks ago."

"She has a crush," Tina said. "No denying that."

"I hate this. I mean, I know women find him attractive. But this hits too close. And it was my idea for him to get an assistant. What would you do if you were me?"

"Look, I'll be honest with you. You should talk to him first and tell him how you feel about everything. He may think you are overreacting, so prepare for that."

"Ok, what else?"

"During your talk, tell him to set boundaries with Ashley. If that doesn't work and she's still calling like he's her therapist, then you should look for a new assistant for him." "

"So he should fire her if she doesn't start acting right?"

"Yep. Send her ass back to 1952. I'm sure she can take shorthand."

Mercedes laughed. "Oh, Tina."

"I'm serious. She looks weird. Don't you think it's odd that she has more pictures of old buildings instead of people?"

"A little. Maybe people aren't her thing."

"One of the few pics with another person is with Sam. I say keep your eyes open."

"Thanks for the advice."

"Anytime."

They went to a movie after leaving the donut shop. The horror flick Tina chose helped Mercedes forget about Ashley and Sam. She concentrated on the blood and gore. But afterward, as she drove home, she remembered how Ashley said, "Sam Hummel is everything." Those words burned into her brain, leaving an ugly mark.


Ashley and Sam sat in a booth at the Moonstone Restaurant, waiting for their usual order. Ashley's laptop was open on the table, and she stared at the screen, biting her bottom lip. The V-neck blue swing dress she wore seemed to show more cleavage than usual. A strand of pearls adorned her porcelain neck. Her black hair was in a chignon bun. She smelled like the perfume his Grandma Hummel used to wear for weddings and funerals. It came in a small red bottle, and the scent was like lemon icing and soap. He tried to recall the name as the fragrance drifted across the table, filling his nostrils. It smelled different on Ashley, less cloying and more subtle, but he still recognized it. Then he remembered.

"Are you wearing White Fire?" Ashley looked up from the screen, a bit startled.

"Yes. How did you know?"

"My Grandmother loved that perfume. She only wore it for special occasions because they stopped making it."

"So, I smell like a senior citizen?" Ashley said, trying to sound light-hearted, but her voice was tight. Sam waved away her concern.

"No, I don't think you smell old. How did you find it?"

"eBay."

"I guess they do have everything." Ashley emptied a couple of sugar packets into her tea and changed the subject.

"Where do you want to stay for the conference?" Sam sipped his coffee.

"The Hyatt is fine. They have reasonable rates."

"Vincent is coming too, right?"

"Yeah."

"You know, I was thinking. I've never been to the Traditional Building Conference. Do you mind if I tag along?"

As he was about to respond, Mercedes walked up to the table, wearing a royal blue wrap dress with matching heels. Her hair was in cascading curls hanging down her back. Sam looked at her, his eyes wide. He stood up and hugged her, kissing her full, ruby lips before she could even give a proper hello.

"You look gorgeous. I didn't think you could make it."

"My hair appointment ended early," she said as she looked up at him. "I take it you like my new dress."

Sam kissed her again and stroked her cheek. Then he heard Ashley's phone vibrating on the table, ending their intimate moment. She didn't bother answering it and only stared at them.

"Sorry, I forgot my manners he said, looking over at Ashley. "Mercedes, this is my assistant, Ashley De Young. Ashley, this is my beautiful wife."

Mercedes walked to Ashley's side of the booth and extended her manicured hand. Her wedding ring sparkled in the sunlight. "It's so nice to meet you in person," she said.

"Likewise," Ashley said, shaking her hand.

"Sam didn't tell me you were joining us."

Mercedes sat next to Sam on the other side of the booth. "Have you ordered?" she asked them.

"Not yet," Sam said, waving his hand at their waitress, Nina, to beckon her over. "We can order now."

"Thanks," Mercedes said, "I'm starving. I'm getting my usual."

After Nina took their orders and left the table, Ashley said to Mercedes: "How's your business these days?"

"Great. In fact, I recently got three more clients."

Ashley stirred her tea. The clink of the spoon against her orange mug made an unpleasant echo in the empty restaurant.

"I don't know if I could work with a family."

"It's challenging," Mercedes said, sipping her glass of ice water.

Ashley smiled. "I'm more of a traditional type."

Mercedes tilted her head. "Traditional?"

"You know, stay at home, raise a family, one paycheck kind of girl. I know I'm getting my degree and everything, but once that ring is on my finger, and the babies come, that's it."

"I see."

Sam held Mercedes' hand.

"We made our own tradition," Sam said, "And it works."

Ashley looked away from them and turned her attention to her laptop.

"Lovely," she said, clearing her throat.

Nina brought their food. She filled the table with pancakes, bacon, scrambled eggs, and grits for Sam and Mercedes. And milk toast, one poached egg, and a fruit cup for Ashley.

"Aunt Josephine made milk toast for breakfast sometimes. She sprinkled hers with brown sugar," Mercedes said, gesturing toward Ashley's bowl.

"My breakfast always disgusts Sam," Ashley said, taking a sip of tea, "Even though I tell him it's good."

"It's soggy bread," Sam said.

"It's not bad," Mercedes said, "At least that's what I thought when I used to eat it as a kid."

As they ate their meal, Sam noticed Ashley wasn't as talkative as she was when they were alone and wondered why. It wasn't as if she and his wife had never spoken before, talking many times on the phone. Mercedes attempted to engage her in conversation.

"Ashley, how's grad school?"

"Ok," Ashley said, taking a bite of milk toast and not saying more. "I remember when I was in grad school, and it was hard juggling everything."

"Yes," Ashley said, nodding.

"I love your pearls."

"Thank you."

"Is your toast soggy enough?" Sam asked Ashley, trying to fill the awkward silence at their table.

"It's good. Though it could use a bit more cinnamon. Are you sure you won't try some?"

"Hard pass."

Ashley laughed a little too loud and reached over, taking a piece of bacon from Sam's plate. She broke it in half, dipped it into the yolk of her poached egg, and then took a bite.

"Mmm, nice and crisp," she murmured. "You know, I can make delicious honey bourbon bacon."

Mercedes picked up the bottle of syrup and drizzled it onto her pancakes.

"Honey bourbon bacon? That's original."

Ashley nodded.

"Yes, it's an old family recipe."

"Maybe you should order some bacon," Mercedes said, cutting into her pancakes. "You seem to enjoy it."

"I only needed a slice."

"Are you sure?"

The two women stared at each other until Ashley looked down at her plate and resumed eating. Then Ashley announced she had a surprise for Sam when the meal was over.

"You do?" Sam said, "What for?"

"Your birthday, silly."

"That's not for another three weeks."

"I know, but I'll be knee-deep in exams. I couldn't wait to give it to you. After you gave me that beautiful purple passion plant for my birthday."

"What purple passion plant?" Mercedes asked Sam.

"Greta gave it to me. You know how she thinks I'm her son."

"I adore it," Ashley said. "It was the best birthday gift."

"I'm glad you like it," Sam said, turning to Mercedes, "We had so many plants at home, and it was in my truck and -. "

"And you gave it to her for her birthday," Mercedes finished for him. "That was thoughtful of you."

"It looks so pretty, right on my windowsill next to my bed. It's where the best light comes in," Ashley said as she reached into her tote bag. She took out a box wrapped in metallic purple paper and handed the gift to Sam.

"Here you are," she said, smiling at him. "Happy Birthday."

"Thank you," Sam said, taking the present from her. "You didn't have to do this."

"I wanted to do it. Go on, open it."

Sam unwrapped the box.

"Ashley is this… wow."

"I knew you would like it." Sam lifted the flat rectangular bottle out of the box filled with dark amber whiskey. It had a yellowed label that said, "Pearly Gates Whiskey Bourbon Bottled in Bond. And beneath that, it said, "died and gone to Heaven after one taste." The logo showed two angels sitting in chariots before heaven's gates. A long green tax stamp sealed the bottle. Sam read the dates on the stamp: "Distilled in Spring 1912. Bottled in Fall 1925."

"This must have cost you a fortune. And it's bottled in 1925, which means–"

"It's a rare Prohibition Era bottle of whiskey. A dealer in North Star had it," Ashley said. "Isn't it wonderful?"

Sam nodded; turning to Mercedes, he said: "We get to taste Christmas Tinsley's bourbon after all."

"Christmas Tinsley?" Ashley asked.

"Christmas Tinsley was my deceased husband's great-great-aunt. She's the true creator of Pearly Gates," Mercedes said.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply anything."

"You asked if I was serious."

"I did a lot of research about Pearly Gates, and Christmas Tinsley never came up," Ashley said.

"The way Nearest Green never came up in the Jack Daniels history," Mercedes said.

"We found out from a book I got online called "Calvin James: Kentucky Bourbon Legend," Sam said. He then told Ashley the story of Christmas and Calvin's love affair, and the birth of Pearly Gates.

When he finished, Ashley said, "Wow, that's fascinating."

"I can't believe you bought this for my birthday," Sam said, staring down at the bottle. Handing it to Mercedes, he said, "This is more yours than mine on account of Shane's family."

Just then, a tall, slender man wearing a white linen shirt and wrinkled slacks walked over to their table. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes, and his brown, curly hair fell across his forehead. He looked to be in his mid-twenties and was quite handsome.

"Surprise, love," he said, leaning down and hugging Ashley.

He had an English accent and smelled of citrus aftershave and cigarettes. Ashley's cheeks turned red.

"Tim, what are you doing here? I thought—"

He faked a sad expression and pouted.

"You aren't happy to see me?"

"Of course, but you said you were flying in later this week."

"Change of plans. Now introduce me, or I'll do it myself."

Ashley blinked as if only realizing that Sam and Mercedes did not know who this man was.

"Um, this is—"

Tim grew impatient and thrust his hand out toward Sam.

"Hello, I'm Tim Metternich. You must be Sam. I've heard a lot about you." "Nice to meet you," Sam said, shaking Tim's hand, "I wish I could say the same. Either Tim didn't hear him or ignored the remark because he turned to Mercedes.

"And you must be his lovely wife, Mercedes," Tim said, shaking her hand. "Ashley has spoken of you as well."

Mercedes smiled.

"Pleasure meeting you, Tim."

"Likewise," he said, sitting next to Ashley, and putting his arm around her. "I hope I wasn't intruding, but Ash has been gushing about this restaurant, and since I came early, well, here I am."

"Here you are," Sam said. He had no clue who this guy was. He assumed it was Ashley's latest boyfriend since she broke up with Robert, but she had mentioned no one.

"I wanted to surprise you, love," Tim said to Ashley, picking up her water glass and sipping from it. "They canceled my workshop, so I changed flights."

Ashley touched his cheek.

"It's wonderful to see you. I'm shocked, that's all."

"Don't worry, dear. The effect will wear off soon enough. It always does. Now, where can I get a menu? I could murder a bacon butty."

"I don't think they have anything like that here," Ashley said.

Tim stared at her, then buttoned the top three buttons of her dress, leaning close as if he were about to kiss her. Ashley's lips puckered, but he tucked a tendril of her hair behind her ear instead of kissing her. She blushed, looking embarrassed from misjudging the situation.

Nina came to the table and gave Tim a menu and a glass of water before walking back to the kitchen. Tim opened the menu biting his bottom lip as he perused its contents.

"I'm getting a BLT," he said, then turned to Ashley. Leaning over, he picked a small lint ball from her dress collar and kissed her. "Go to the loo, love. You smudged your lipstick," he said, glancing at her before looking at the menu again.

Ashley nodded and got up from the booth. On wobbly legs, she walked back to the bathroom.

"A treasure, isn't she?" Tim said to them.

"I suppose," Mercedes said.

Tim tilted his head, smiling at her, revealing perfect white teeth.

"I hear you sing."

"Yes."

"I sing a little myself."

"Oh, you do?" Mercedes said.

Then Tim sang the chorus of the Smokey Robinson classic, "Cruisin."

"You're gonna fly away, glad your goin' my way

I love it when we're cruising together

The music is played for love

Cruising is made for love

I love it when we're cruising together"

Sam had to admit, the man had pipes, much to his chagrin. But even more to his dismay, Tim's singing impressed Mercedes. She smiled as he sang, and it wasn't a polite smile, either. It was a genuine, bona fide; I like his voice kind of smile.

"Wow, that was great."

"Smokey Robinson is classic," Tim said, leaning back in the booth. "And, thank you."

He gazed at Mercedes for a moment, then said: "You look lovely in blue."

"She knows it's my favorite color," Sam said as Mercedes looked down, shy, and thanked Tim for the compliment. Sam scooted closer to Mercedes, covering her hand with his.

"A wife that pleases her husband," Tim said, sipping his ice water, "Charming."

Staring at Mercedes, Tim's blue eyes grew intense. She glanced at him, then looked away. Sam put his arm around her, glaring at Tim.

"How long have you and Ashley been together?"

"Long enough."

"Do you always sing Smokey Robinson on a whim?" Mercedes asked.

"No, sometimes it's Kurt Cobain if I'm melancholy. I get nostalgic. Ash yearns for old things. I just yearn. It suits me, don't you think?"

"I don't know. We just met."

Tim looked at his watch. "It's been ten minutes since our introduction. Long enough to form an opinion."

"Are you a singer?" Sam asked, his arm around Mercedes growing tighter.

"That I am. Also, a producer. A model, and an actor too."

"I see," Sam said, "Jack of all trades."

"And I've mastered all," Tim said.

Nina came to the table and took Tim's order. As she was leaving, Ashley returned, her lips crimson, eyes bright.

"I hope I didn't miss anything," she said, sitting down.

Sam looked at his phone and saw it was almost 1:00.

"We have to go."

"Don't hurry off because of me," Tim said, "I wanted to get to know the great Sam Hummel. And I have an invitation for you."

"An invitation?"

"Yes, I have a one-man play that I'm performing at the cultural center downtown. The owner is an old friend of mine. The first performance is next Saturday."

"Are you friends with Duke Lawson?" Sam said. He thought of Mr. Lawson's Southern twang, and affection for sweet tea and peach cobbler. He was more wholesome than Mayberry. How was he even associated with this guy?

"He knew my father."

Sam didn't care to hear anymore, but Mercedes asked:

"What's the play about?" Tim looked at her, giving another intense gaze:

"It's about relationships."

"He's a wonderful actor," Ashley gushed, holding his arm. Tim looked at her as if he loved and pitied her all at once.

"Sweet Ashley. Always my champion," he turned back to Mercedes, "It's called Segreti e Desideri."

"Secrets and yearnings," Mercedes said, "Interesting title."

Tim raised his eyebrows. "You speak Italian?"

"A little. I studied abroad for a while."

"Sembri un angelo in blu."

Mercedes narrowed her eyes and gave a tense smile.

"Lo so e lo sa anche mio marito."

"Translation, please," Ashley said, laughing, clinging to his arm.

"Friendly banter. Nothing more." Tim said, kissing Ashley's cheek.

"You said blue," Ashley said, "Was it about my dress?"

"Both of you are wearing my favorite color."

"We are? I thought you didn't have a favorite color."

"I do now."

"We have to go," Mercedes said, taking Sam's hand as she slid out of the booth, her wedding ring flashing in the sunlight.

"It was nice meeting you," Tim said.

Sam picked up Ashley's gift.

"Thank you again for my birthday present."

"You've thanked me enough. I'm glad I could buy it for you."

"Is that the old whiskey you've been going on about?" Tim asked.

Ashley nodded.

"I finally found it."

"That was quite a feat," Tim said.

Nina came to the table and placed a BLT and fries in front of Tim before flitting away again.

"Ah, now I can eat. I've only had a cuppa and crisps today," he said as he took a bite of the sandwich.

"Enjoy your meal," Sam said, squeezing Mercedes' hand, "Nice meeting you, Tim. Goodbye"

"Goodbye, Sam the Great. I hope you can make it to my little play. I think you'll find it inspiring."

A blob of mayonnaise landed on Tim's chin as he devoured the BLT. He didn't bother wiping it away, only letting it sit until Ashley grabbed a napkin and wiped it off. He kept eating and handed her a French fry.

Sam didn't know what this weirdo could do to inspire him, and he knew he didn't want to find out.


When they got in the car, Sam said to Mercedes:

"What did he say to you?"

"That I looked like an angel in blue, and I said I know, and my husband knows too."

"Jesus, what a dick," Sam said as he started the car, "What does Ashley want with him?"

"Who knows? Why do you care who she dates?"

"Because she's a friend. And she could do better."

"Really?"

"You don't think so?"

"She's a grown woman who can make her own choices. Good and bad. You don't need to look out for her."

"I don't think I look out for her like that."

"Never mind," Mercedes said, opening her purse and taking out a bottle of Advil.

"Headache?"

"Yes."

"Listen, I was thinking I'm going to cancel my meetings today."

"Why?"

"Let's spend some time together."

"Doing what?"

Sam shrugged.

"I don't know. We could go for a drive. See a movie. Anything."

"I want to go home."

"Are you ok?"

"I'm fine… Let's just go home."

"Tell me what's wrong."

Mercedes swallowed two Advil and looked at him.

"Ashley likes you."

"What?"

"She wants you."

"No, she doesn't. But Tim likes you."

"Tim likes everybody."

"You don't say? Well, he wasn't calling me a blue angel. Which by the way, pisses me off because that's what I call you."

"It's not like he knew that."

"So, you're defending him?"

"No, of course not."

"You liked his voice."

"You liked her gift."

"But that had to do with us, Shane's family, and Pearly Gates. It wasn't about her," Sam said as he pulled over to the side of the road next to a cornfield.

"Why are we stopping?"

"I want your full attention."

"Sam, you don't have to —"

"I'm not attracted to Ashley."

"I know."

"Then why are you upset?"

"I hate how she looks at you."

"She seems like she's into Tim."

"I'm sure she is, but she has feelings for you too."

"I don't see it."

Mercedes held her head in her hands.

"She has inside jokes with you. You two talk history. She thinks you're the greatest thing ever."

Sam sighed.

"I never gave the jokes and talking about history much thought. It was casual conversation, and I never thought it crossed the line beyond friendship."

"She calls you about her love life and eats off your plate. Those are warning signs."

"Her phone calls bother you?"

"Yes, because it isn't all business. I can't explain it. I'm sorry. I felt she had an ulterior motive like she wanted you to save her. And then one day, when she's talking to me, she calls you our guy, like we shared you or something, and I know I'm babbling. I know these feelings are crazy. I'm not trying to control you and say who your friends should be, but I can't stop these feelings."

Sam hugged her.

"Don't be sorry. Nothing you said is crazy. I felt the same way with Tim serenading you and speaking in Italian. I felt threatened. It was like he had a part of you. I never see myself as insecure, but —"

"But sometimes you're faced with a situation, and it brings it out."

"Yeah."

"I have zero attraction to Tim."

"I know."

"Yet here we are. Both of us are jealous. I can see how us speaking Italian, and his roaming eyes made you feel how you did. I guess it's harder to see when you're on the receiving end and not welcoming the attention."

"Right. And now I get how Ashley eating off my plate, exchanging inside jokes, and calling me after hours looks like to you. I'm clueless about flirting unless it's obvious, then I'll get it. Remember when we were at the beach? And that woman sitting next to us stared at me, licked her lips, and took off her bikini top. You couldn't get any more obvious than that."

"I remember that heifer. You set her straight too."

"That I did. Kissing you like I hadn't seen you in a month of Sundays. You wore that beautiful aqua-blue bathing suit."

"And what was even better was that security came over and asked her to leave because it wasn't a nude beach. She got all indignant. Screaming about the female body, then she had the nerve to insult me, saying, you let that whale show skin, but I can't. But you, Mr. Knight in Shining Armor, ripped her a new one when you—"

"When I said nobody insults my wife. And my wife is the most beautiful woman in the world, and you're the ugliest woman I have ever met."

"Then the bitch started crying."

"Karen tears."

"Salty as hell."

Sam laughed and kissed her.

"I see where you're coming from about how you feel. The way Tim stared at you bothered me."

"I always said I wouldn't be that woman, and now look at me. I'm glad we got the whiskey, and I'm looking forward to tasting it."

"Abby will get a kick out of this since we did that report on Christmas, Tinsley," Sam said.

Mercedes smiled, thinking of their daughter.

"Yes, she will. Won't she?"

Sam stroked Mercedes' cheek.

"You know I love you, right? I don't know about Ashley's eyes, but I know about my eyes, and they're always on you."

"I love you too."

He kissed her and ran his hands through her hair.

"I can't blame Tim for wanting you. You look gorgeous," Sam said, kissing her again, longer this time. Mercedes moaned into the kiss. He pulled her closer, smelling her ocean perfume. The scent took him back to when they were in Hawaii, making love on a moonlit beach and swimming nude in the Pacific. His hand roamed beneath her dress, feeling her silky skin grazing her bare bottom. He realized she wasn't wearing underwear.

Breaking the kiss, he said, "Mercedes, you're not…"

"I know."

"So, this entire time during lunch, you were sitting next to me, and the only thing separating us was blue silk?"

"Yeah," she said.

Sam unbuttoned her dress. He gasped when he saw her brown, stretch-marked breasts in the sunlight, her nipples hard.

"Does your head still hurt?"

"No, the Advil is kicking in."

He squeezed her bare breast.

"We better get you home anyway," he said, tweaking her nipple, "Can't have us getting arrested."

"What do you want to do?"

"Take you in the back seat."

"What's stopping you?"

Mercedes stared at him, long hair tousled, lips full and red. Her heavy breasts displayed. The sun shined on her skin, giving it a pleasant glow; she was his angel in soft, yellow light. Damn, she was sexy.

"Do you want to?"

"I'm asking, aren't I?"

They climbed into the back seat, with Mercedes lying beneath him. Sam recalled a fantasy he'd told his wife about one late night, as they came down from mind-blowing orgasms. It involved the back seat of a car on a deserted road at midnight with a full moon in the black sky. This was midday, with bright sunshine and a cornfield, but the kinky scenario still played out in his mind.

Gazing down at Mercedes, he said. "Hey, do you remember—"

"Sam, of course, I remember. Let's do it."

Leaning down, he kissed her. "Let me know if you get uncomfortable."

He reached up, pulled the seatbelt down, and tied her wrists together.

"Is it too tight?"

"No, I'm good."

"You scared someone might catch us?"

"A little. But I like it."

Sam pushed up the skirt of her dress, showing off her shaved pubic area, big thighs, and toned calves. With her knees bent, he spread her legs; her glistening pink center was beautiful as always. He slid his finger inside her, and she clenched around him, wanting more, moaning and biting her lip.

"If I had known you were naked under this dress, I don't think I could've finished lunch." he said. Gliding his finger in and out, "Did you do it to see if I would figure it out?"

Mercedes nodded, pulling on the seatbelt restraints, and thrusting her pelvis upward.

"So, you got up today and said, how can I make my husband go crazy?" Sam said, inserting another finger and picking up the pace.

"Sam…"

"Did anyone else know? Did Tim know?"

Mercedes was breathless, raising her hips as her breasts jiggled. Then she tried to close her thighs, but Sam kept them open.

"No, baby, you gotta stay open for me. Can you do that?"

Sam took his other hand and squeezed one of her breasts, pinching her erect nipple. He leaned down and suckled on it, knowing how much she loved when he did this.

"There's something you forgot about that beach story," he said, fondling her breast as he fingered her. He tapped and rubbed his thumb across her clitoris as her hips gyrated.

"That night, remember you asked me if I wished your breasts were like hers? You whispered it in bed. And I said if I had wanted a silicone, botoxed, fake-tanned woman, I wouldn't be in that bed with you. I guess you had a weak moment, but then you did the sexiest thing, do you remember?"

Sam knew she was close to coming. So he removed his fingers, unzipped his pants, plunged inside, thrusting his hips. Mercedes wrapped her legs around his waist; her royal blue stiletto heels dug into his back. Sam continued his story as he pumped into her.

"You took off your nightgown, got on top of me, and took what you wanted. I didn't have to do a thing. You were so confident and self-assured. And I lay there. Looking at your breasts, hips, and thighs shaking, feeling you all snug around my cock, like a velvet glove. I don't care about Ashley or random women on the beach. I only care about you. I love you. Always." At those last words, Mercedes came hard, screaming as she pulled on her restraints. Sam followed suit a few minutes later, laying on top of her.

"Fuck," she whispered, "Damn, that was good."

"Amen," Sam said, kissing her lips and neck, "I hope I didn't ruin your dress."

"That's what dry cleaning is for."

Sam untied her. He inspected her wrists for bruises. Kissing each one.

"You sure you're not hurting?"

"I'm fine, except I need to get up. My neck hurts."

He helped her up, then placed her on his lap, squeezing her breasts and rubbing her neck as he kissed her. She snuggled against him.

"Thank you," She said.

"No, thank you. You gave me my fantasy after all."

"I know we're going home, but we should get cleaned up, anyway."

"You got wipes?"

"Yeah, in my purse. I can get it."

Mercedes reached over and got her purse, taking out the pack of wipes. She kept them handy because the twins always had something on their faces or hands, without fail. Sam took the blue and pink package from her, and opening it; he pulled out a few wipes.

"Spread your legs," he said.

Mercedes did as he asked, and Sam wiped her vagina, getting between the crevices and folds. When he brushed against her sensitive clit, Mercedes became aroused. Sam indulged her, giving the tiny pearl a few more light rubs. He set her on edge but refrained from letting her orgasm. He used more wipes to clean her neck, breasts, and thighs.

Sam lingered on her plump nipples, pinching and squeezing them between the moist cotton cloth.

"Wait till I get you home," he whispered in her ear. He gave one last pinch to the hardened nub, before buttoning up the dress again. Mercedes shivered at his words as she cleaned his rigid member. Feeling the cloth against his skin was too much for Sam.

"Baby, that feels so good, but we need to go," he said.

She gave him one final prolonged stroke and kissed him.

"I won't be the only one on edge."

They kissed and got in the front, situating themselves in their seats. As Sam started the car, he saw Ashley's car pull up to theirs.

"What the hell is she doing here?" Mercedes asked, then checked herself in the mirror, smoothing down her hair.

Ashley opened her window and motioned for them to do the same. Tim sat beside her in the passenger seat, a vague smile on his face.

"Hi Sam, are you having car trouble?"

"No, we just stopped for a moment. Mercedes was feeling ill."

"Oh, that's too bad. I hope it wasn't the food," Ashley said, her eyes squinting in the sunlight. "Well, we're on our way to North Star. I'm getting perfume from that shop you told me about where those sisters make it for you."

"Yes, I remember. I hope you like it."

"Tim wanted to go for a drive, too, to look at the scenery, so I'm killing two birds with one stone."

Tim smiled.

"Kentucky is breathtaking," he said, as his eyes drifted to Mercedes, "I really hope you both can come to my play. I'm rather proud of it."

"He's going to win an Oscar one day," Ashley said, gazing over at him, grinning, "You're so talented."

"Thank you, love."

"We'll think about it," Sam said, "With the kids and all, it's hard to make plans."

"I understand," Tim said, "Keep it in mind."

"Bye," Ashley said, waving her hand as she drove away.

"We stopped just in time," Sam said as he pulled onto the road.

"Let's go home and finish what we started," Mercedes said, squeezing his knee. Sam grinned and drove above the speed limit.


That night while Sam and the kids watched Encanto; Mercedes went upstairs to the bedroom and called Tina.

"Hi Mercedes, what's going on?"

"Can you talk?"

"Sure. Mike has bath duty tonight."

"Good. Listen, Ashley is the one that bought the Pearly Gates whiskey," Mercedes said.

"What? That bitch."

"I was there when she gave Sam the gift today at lunch. She didn't like how I showed up."

"Looking fierce, no doubt."

"How did you know?"

"I wouldn't expect less, considering the circumstances. And you're always fierce, so there's that."

"Thank you. Sam loved my dress. Said I looked beautiful."

"Of course, he did. I'm glad that quirky little minx saw everything. I know how Sam looks at you."

"Quirky little minx?"

"That's the best way to describe her after bitch."

"I know she didn't know I was going to buy it. I told no one except you. And I know she's the one who told Sam about Calvin James but still - "

"It gets to you how she's saying your husband is everything and buying him the perfect birthday gift."

"Right. I called the dealer in North Star. I asked how much the last bottle of Pearly Gates sold for and found out she paid double what I would've paid. The salesperson had loose lips and said the buyer convinced them to sell it to her after offering to pay more."

"What kind of money does she have? She's a grad student with an admin job?" Tina asked.

"That's what I'd like to know."

"Doesn't she have a boyfriend?"

"Yeah, I met him too. He showed up at lunch."

"He did? Why?"

"Something about flying into town early."

"What was he like?"

"You're nosy as hell."

"And you love me, anyway. So, what was Ashley's boyfriend like? I mean, he's with Ashley, so that's already sus."

Mercedes leaned back on the pillows, trying to get more comfortable.

"He was strange. Good looking, though, and he's an actor and singer. He even sang Cruisin for us."

"In the restaurant?"

"Yeah. His voice is nice. Anyway, he has a play at the cultural center downtown."

"Segreti e Desideri?"

"How did you know?"

"It was in the Star Pride Scoop."

"You read that?"

"Somebody has to."

"I read the Star Pride Chronicle."

"That's too big city. I like reading about bake sales and bingo."

"And one man plays with no-name actors."

Tina laughed.

"Right."

"He invited us to a performance. Ashley wanted Sam to come, but he's not feeling it."

"Tim was checking you out, wasn't he?"

Mercedes closed her eyes and sighed. Her best friend knew them too well.

"You figured it out, huh?"

"Yeah, I know how Sam is. Hold on."

Mercedes heard Tina yell out to Mike.

"Don't forget to oil Alexandra's scalp!"

Then she heard Mike saying he wouldn't forget, and Tina said that's what he said last time, and he still failed to do it. After bickering for a few minutes, the conversation ended with what sounded like a kiss. Mercedes smiled to herself. Those two fought about the most trivial things but always made up in the end.

"Sorry about that. Have you talked to Sam about how you feel about everything?"

"Yes, I have."

"And?"

"He couldn't see how she wanted him but understood how I felt because of Tim. Then something X-rated happened."

"Pray tell."

"For now, all I'm saying is that seat belts make great restraints."

"What? You know I need details," Tina said, laughing into the phone.

"And I'll give them to you later. That's a bottle of wine in front of a fireplace conversation. I will say that Sam had to cancel all his meetings. It was a long afternoon."

"Ok, Mrs. Hummel, I'll let you off the hook now, but I'll keep reminding you until you give up the smut. Mercedes laughed.

"Alright, Tina. The good thing about her buying Pearly Gates is that we can taste it."

"Are you ever going to tell Sam that you almost bought the whiskey?"

"No."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I guess I want to let it go. And enjoy drinking the whiskey, which is another reason why I called you. Are you and Mike free this Friday night?"

"Yes, why?"

"We'd like you two to come over for dinner. Sam is making lasagna, and we're going to try the whiskey. We thought it would be fun for us to taste it together."

"That sounds great. I've never had 100-year-old whiskey before. A toast to Christmas Tinsley."

"A toast indeed. Well, I need to go. See you Friday. Come around 7:30."

"Ok, see you then."

Mercedes put her phone on the nightstand and sighed. After the week she and Sam had, she was looking forward to the dinner party.


Author's Note: Thank you for reading my story! Chapter 34 is forthcoming in the future.