Thank you for your continued interest and support. I appreciate it.

I do not own Glee or the characters, neither do I own The Billionaire's Embrace.

MERCEDES

Saturday was a slow night at work...slower than usual, anyway. And around ten, I found myself in a sudden lull, with nothing to do.

My customers were all happy with their drinks and nobody was looking around for me. So I used my reprieve to step behind the bar, chug a glass of water and check my phone.

There were no text messages from Sam...which didn't surprise me. He was at a charity gala that evening but it still made my heart sink a little.

However, Joss had texted me...

Jocelyn: Girl bring that man to dinner tomorrow

I felt my eyebrows crawling up my forehead. I texted back...

Me: Not sure that's a good idea

My phone buzzed...

Jocelyn: I want to meet this hottie. Carlos says he'll cook. Please! it will be awesome

I sighed...

One of my customers had finished his drink, and so, I slid my phone back into my purse and went back out onto the floor.

After that, I had three tables seated in a row, and by the time I had a chance to look at my phone again, it was 3 a.m. and I was on the subway home.

Joss had left me a series of text messages, each using more exclamation points than the last, trying to convince me to bring Sam to her place for dinner.

She had been bugging me about him since the first time I mentioned him, and I knew she just wanted a chance to be able to interrogate him about his intentions, like we were living in a Jane Austen novel.

I didn't think he would appreciate being subjected to that.

Jocelyn: Does he like Indian food? You know Carlos makes good curry

Jocelyn: We can play Scattergories

Jocelyn: I promise I'll be nice to him

I rolled my eyes...

Once Joss got an idea into her head, it was basically impossible to talk her out of it.

I wouldn't even try; I would just let Sam's no doubt busy schedule do it for me.

If I told her that he didn't want to, or that he was too busy, she wouldn't be able to argue with me about it.

I knew he was probably asleep, but I texted him anyway. He would see it in the morning.

Me: My friend Jocelyn wants to have us over for dinner tomorrow night. I know you're probably too busy so I'll tell her no.

To my surprise, my phone buzzed with a reply a few seconds later...

Sam: I would love to. What time?

My plan had backfired...

Me: She's really nosy so maybe it's not a good idea.

Sam: I would love to meet any and all of your friends. Please tell her yes and thank you. ;)

His little winking emoticon made me smile despite myself. He didn't seem like the sort of man who used emoticons, and yet there it was.

Maybe dinner wouldn't be that bad. I would get Carlos on my side, and he would help me keep Joss under control.

Carlos, Joss' boyfriend, was a white guy she'd met at her spinning class. They'd been together for a couple of years, and every time I saw them, they seemed even happier than the time before.

I liked him. He was good for her. He was steady and unassuming, and he balanced out her wilder tendencies.

Before I met Sam, they both gave me hope that true love still existed in this world. And now...well, I wasn't going to use the word 'love' in conjunction with Sam anytime soon.

But now, Sam gave me hope.

The train slowed as it pulled into a station, and I glanced up to check where I was.

Still a few more stops. So I typed,

Me: I hope you don't regret this! I'll text you details tomorrow.

Sam: Great. Sleep well.

I tucked my phone back in my purse with a smile on my face. Sam wasn't a secret, but he felt like one... A good one, the kind that you wanted to carry close to your heart, like it wouldn't be as special if other people knew about it.

I let my head fall back against the window and looked up at the subway map above the seats opposite me. I knew the route by heart, but I liked maps, and it gave me something to look at while I let my mind drift.

There were a few other people in the car, enough that I didn't have to feel nervous. And they all looked like they were coming home from work...just like me.

One woman had fallen asleep. And I wondered if I should wake her up so that she didn't miss her stop.

Then I wondered if Sam had ever ridden the F train in the middle of the night...

And I further wondered if he'd ever ridden the subway at all. It was actually quite possible that he hadn't.

I hadn't seen him since that afternoon at the museum. He had asked if I wanted to go for dinner after, but I'd made up some lame excuse about having to run errands and had gone home to sit on my sofa in despair.

I regretted every moment of it.

I was afraid and as always, my response to fear was to run away.

My childhood taught me that bad things happened all the time and the only way to avoid them was to hide under your bed and hope that your drunken father found another outlet for his rage.

Sam was by no means drunk, or angry, but he scared me. And so, I fled. Maybe it wasn't the healthiest coping mechanism, but it was the only one I had.

And he did scare me... His charm, the strange hold he had on me and the way I wanted to be with him all the time.

I've spent a few hours with him and visions of the future started dancing in my head. He was my ticket out of the life I've been trapped in for so long, and that was what really scared me.

And...the idea that I was relying on a man to save me. It wasn't safe to rely on anyone but myself.

Sam was seductive. My body responded to him like it had been made for his use, and that was terrifying enough, but worse than that was the way I wanted to fling myself wholeheartedly into the world he offered to me, that life of wealth and security.

It wasn't real... It wouldn't last. He would get tired of me, or realize, too late, that I wasn't who he thought I was and then he would leave me.

And if I let myself get in too deep, I would be destroyed when he left.

I had to maintain a careful distance. I had to keep myself from falling for him. But it was so hard, like tearing my own heart out of my chest.

I wanted to let go and love him.

There's that word...

If I let go for one second, if I slipped up and relaxed my iron control, I would lose myself. And there would be no turning back.

So the safest thing to do would be to end it.

I should tell him that I couldn't see him anymore. But I'd tried that once already and it hadn't worked. I'd let him charm his way back into my life.

He hadn't even had to work very hard.

I'd welcomed him back with open arms. And I knew I wouldn't have the strength to refuse him again.

So I would just wait, tumbling head over heels, desperately trying to keep him at arm's length, until he wised up and left.

Everyone left me eventually...

I woke up feeling hungover, even though I didn't have anything to drink the night before. I still hadn't totally adjusted to working nights, and after I got home, I'd stayed up doing some mindless internet window shopping until almost dawn.

Poor life decision.

I had texted Joss asking for more details about dinner and when I checked my phone, I had a message waiting from her...

Jocelyn: 6:30, my place, don't b late! so excited to meet him!

I sighed and texted Brittany that I wouldn't be working that evening.

One of the nicest things about my job, aside from the ridiculous amounts of money I was making, was that Brittany didn't care if I didn't show up to work, as long as I let her know a few hours in advance.

She had actually gotten after me about working too much. That had changed a little, now that I was dating Sam, but I was still at work more nights than not.

I knew the job wouldn't last... I would mess up eventually and get fired, or they would go out of business, or the building would burn down in a fire...

And I was determined to make as much money as possible while I still had the opportunity.

My savings account had hit five figures the week before. I'd never had that much money in my life.

Sam probably spent that much on an average Tuesday afternoon.

That wasn't fair. I hadn't actually seen him do anything particularly extravagant. His apartment was really nice...the skylights, the big windows...but it only had one bedroom, and the furnishings were obviously well-made but not flashy.

There were no gold-plated statues of baby angels or anything.

Yes, there was the car and driver, the nice restaurants and the expensive suits, but I didn't think any of those things were out of the ordinary for a billionaire.

He ran a multinational corporation; he probably had to maintain appearances to some extent. And play the part to keep his investors happy.

I didn't know for sure if investors cared about that sort of thing, but I had a feeling they did.

He was rich and he lived like a rich person, but he didn't have a pet tiger or diamond-encrusted silverware. He had the things that I would probably want to have...if I was rich.

I rubbed my temples... Too much thinking before noon. Then I dragged myself out of bed and turned on the coffee maker.

Everything would make more sense once I had some caffeine.

While I was waiting for the coffee to finish brewing, I texted Sam...

Me: Dinner at 6:30. Joss lives in Carroll Gardens so we can meet there.

There was no reason for him to come all the way to my neighborhood and then backtrack to Jocelyn's place. I typed in her address and hit send.

He didn't respond until I was settled on the couch with my coffee, making my usual morning rounds of blogs and email...

Sam: Don't be silly. I'll come pick you up. What should I bring? Wine?

I thought about it... Wine was usually a safe bet, but Joss had said Indian food, and I didn't know what else she had planned.

Me: I'll have her call you if that's okay.

Sam: Sure. I'm in meetings all morning, but she can leave a message. Can't wait to see you tonight.

I bit my lip to hold back a foolish grin. That was the problem with Sam... My brain told me that it couldn't last, that it would end in sorrow and suffering, but my heart wanted him so much that it bloomed in my chest like an extravagant flower with the slightest provocation.

He was kind and thoughtful and good...a fundamentally decent person...and that was why I hadn't bailed yet.

He gave me hope. His earnest belief that the world was a good and worthwhile place was contagious. And being around him made me feel like everything would turn out okay.

It was all foolishness. And false dreams...

I looked around my apartment, grounding myself in reality.

There were dirty dishes, an overflowing hamper and drug addicts yelling outside.

This was real life. The way that real people lived.

Well, real people didn't have to live in filth...

I spent the day cleaning and then realized it was already five, which meant Sam would be ringing my doorbell in less than an hour.

Panicked, I hopped in the shower, and then spent far too long trying to decide what I wanted to wear.

I had finally settled on skinny jeans and a silky blouse when my doorbell rang...

My hair was still damp and needed doing, and I hadn't put on an ounce of makeup.

I swore a blue streak... Whatever. Joss and Carlos had seen me looking worse... And Sam would just have to cope.

I pulled on my coat and clattered down the stairs.

Sam was waiting for me in the vestibule. He was wearing...oh God...his usual outfit of wool slacks and a dress shirt, and an overcoat slung over his arm.

At least his sleeves were rolled up. I should've told him to dress down. We were just going to dinner at my friend's apartment; he didn't need to look so fancy.

I opened the door...

"You're early," I said. "I mean, you're not early, you're right on time, but I lost track of time, and...I didn't have time to do my hair, or..."

He smiled and touched my damp hair.

"So I see. You look wonderful." He bent to kiss me. "Are you ready? Harry's waiting outside."

I took a deep breath.

"Give me a minute," I said. He smiled and I dashed inside for a hairclip to hold my damp hair together. "I'm ready," I said.

We went outside and climbed into the warm car.

"I'm afraid I'm a little overdressed," Sam said. "I came straight from the office. I hope your friends won't mind."

Guilt washed over me. Of course he'd been at work, even though it was Sunday. He wasn't trying to show off, or make my friend's feel inadequate. He just hadn't had time to change. I shouldn't have assumed the worst.

"I hope you'll talk a lot about how you had a long, exhausting day at the office and make them both feel really lazy," I said.

He grinned.

"I'm sure that will endear me to them. Plus, it wasn't that exhausting."

Double guilt...

"I didn't mean to...I wouldn't have asked you if I'd known you were working all day. If you want to just go home and relax, I'm sure they'll understand. It's not..."

He took my hand.

"That's not what I meant. Being with you is relaxing, Mercedes. I would much rather do this than go home to my empty apartment."

I couldn't think of any way to respond that didn't involve bursting into tears, so I slid across the seat and leaned against him, resting my head against his shoulder and letting him wrap one arm around me and hold me close.

His warm and solid presence made me realize how nervous I'd been all day.

I was worried about what he would think about Jocelyn and what she would think about him. I wanted them to like each other, and I was afraid that they wouldn't, and I was annoyed with myself that it mattered so much to me.

I was an adult and I could make my own decisions. I didn't need anyone's approval.

"Jocelyn asked me to bring wine," Sam said. "So I picked up a couple of bottles."

I tensed...

"What kind of wine?"

He kissed the top of my head.

"Cheap wine. Twenty dollars a bottle."

Twenty dollars a bottle still sounded like a lot.

"I just don't want you to think you have to spend money on me," I said. "Or that I'm taking advantage of you."

"Seeing as how you get that horrified look on your face every time I try to do something nice for you, it would be difficult for me to believe that you're using me for my money," he said.

I covered my face with one hand.

"Horrified look?"

He laughed.

"Like you've smelled something repellent. It's very sweet, and I'm glad to know you like me for more than just my credit card. Although I do wish you would let me spoil you a little."

I didn't reply. I was still trying to figure out how I felt about Sam's money. It was a fact of his existence, just like his green eyes. So I wouldn't ever be able to strip away his wealth and find the real Sam.

Money wasn't a veneer concealing his true self. It was part of him, an inextricable part of how he interacted with and thought about the world.

I thought that probably a lot of the things I liked about him...his self-confidence, his easy charm...existed because he had money. Because it was easy to be confident when you never had to worry about paying rent.

And so, even though I sometimes wished that he was an ordinary person, that he took the subway and bought his toilet paper at a corner store, I knew that it didn't work like that.

Without the corporation and the money and the tabloids, he wouldn't be Sam. He had been shaped by his environment the same way I'd been shaped by mine.

And I couldn't reject his wealth without rejecting him.

"What are you thinking about?" Sam asked.

"Nothing," I said. "Dinner. I'm hungry. Joss' boyfriend is making Indian food. Did I tell you that?"

"She did, when I spoke to her earlier," he said. "She sounds very nice."

"She didn't say anything embarrassing, did she?" I asked.

That was exactly the sort of thing she would do... Go behind my back and tell Sam all sorts of humiliating stories about me.

"Not at all," he said. "We spoke very briefly."

I squinted up at him, suspicious, and even more suspicious when he gave me a look like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.

"I'm not sure I should believe you."

He leaned down and kissed me.

"I cannot tell a lie."

"Okay, George Washington," I said. Yeah, Joss probably told him about that time I got really drunk and threw up on the subway. She always told that story.

Sam laughed.

"Is there anything I should know going in? Sore subjects to avoid?"

I thought about it...

"Not really. I don't want to tell you too much about them because then you won't have anything to talk about."

Maybe he didn't have that problem, though. He had probably been glad-handing since before he could walk.

The car pulled up in front of Joss' house...

Sam and I got out, and I stood on the sidewalk while he spoke to the driver. Seconds later, the car pulled away, and he took my hand and smiled at me.

"Ready?"

"I guess so," I said, and we climbed the steps of the brownstone.

There was a note on the front door...

"Buzzer broken, come on in!"

The door was propped open with a brick. I rolled my eyes. The buzzer had been broken for at least a month. Joss' slumlord tried to cut corners whenever he could. I kept trying to convince her to move out, but she said the rent was so cheap she would put up with just about anything.

It was like her landlord didn't realize that Carroll Gardens had been gentrified.

Sam was holding the wine in his other hand, so I opened the door.

We went inside and climbed the stairs to the top floor, where Joss and Carlos lived. Well, technically he didn't live there, but he only went back to his place to pick up clean clothes.

I wondered if they were ever going to bite the bullet and officially move in together...

I knocked on the door and it swung open immediately, letting out a wave of curry-scented air. Joss must've been waiting just inside.

"Welcome, welcome!" she said, beaming.

She had combed her hair out into a fro and her highlights made it look like a golden halo around her head. Between that and her red lipstick and her teal dress, she looked like someone in a magazine.

"You look incredible," I told her, leaning in to give her a hug.

"Hey, what about me?" Carlos asked, coming up behind her.

"Of course," I said smiling. "Don't you think Joss looks incredible?" I asked him, and gave him a hug too.

"And this must be Sam," Joss said. I moved aside and let her and Carlos shake hands with Sam.

"Thanks very much for having us over tonight," Sam said.

"Mercedes has been trying to hide you," Joss said. "Can't have that! Come in, come in." She ushered us into the living room. "Dinner's almost ready, I think."

"Ten minutes," Carlos said. "Speaking of..." He disappeared into the kitchen.

"I brought wine, as requested," Sam said, handing Jocelyn the paper bag he was carrying.

"Aren't you a doll," she chirruped. "I'll open it right now. You two sit down."

She followed Carlos into the kitchen...

I sat on the tufted green velvet sofa we'd rescued from the sidewalk three summers before and patted the cushion beside me.

"Best seat in the house," I said. "Sorry she's so intense."

Sam sat beside me.

"I think she's delightful."

I pursed my lips, unconvinced. Seeing Joss through Sam's eyes as a stranger, made me all too aware of how high-energy she was and sort of bossy.

She and I got along great because I was a follower, not a leader; but I didn't know how Sam would react to being gently ordered around.

Joss came back into the room, somehow carrying three full wine glasses in her hands. I was glad I always got to use a tray at the club.

"This wine looks awesome," she said to Sam, handing him a glass, and then moving one to her now-empty right hand before she passed it to me. "Did you go all out? I thought I told you not to go all out."

"Don't worry," he said. "It came from the liquor store, not my private cellar."

She laughed...

"Do you really have a wine cellar? Is it underground? Mercedes, you didn't tell me anything about this!"

"It's a crypt," Sam said. "Medieval. I had it imported from France."

"I like him," Joss said to me. She sat down across from us. "Tell me everything. Do you know George Clooney? I would leave Carson for him in a hot second."

"I heard that!" Carlos yelled from the kitchen.

"I've met Mr. Clooney, yes," Sam said. "I think he has a girlfriend, though."

Joss made a dismissive gesture...

"That won't last. They all start talking about marriage, and then, well..." She shook her head. "Women really need to stop viewing marriage as the be-all and end-all of female aspirations."

I rolled my eyes... Joss was really into feminist theory, and I found it interesting and worthwhile, but maybe not the best topic of conversation when you were meeting your best friend's new boyfriend.

Was that what Sam was?

My boyfriend?

Man companion?

Boy-toy?

Whatever he was, he said to my surprise something about Betty Friedan and The Feminine Mystique, and then he and Jocelyn were off and running.

I sat there like a useless lump while they debated the merits of third-wave feminism and intersectionality. I didn't know enough about it to have anything useful to contribute.

All of my reading couldn't compensate for the fact that I didn't have a college education. And college seemed to be where people learned how to argue.

At least, that was the impression I'd gotten in my two semesters at CUNY.

Before I could really start feeling sorry for myself, though, Carlos came into the living room and announced that dinner was ready.

"And no more talking about feminism," he said. "Arguing during dinner gives me indigestion."

"We weren't arguing," Joss said. "We were debating. There's a difference."

"Semantics," he said. "Let's eat while the food's still hot."

Joss and Carlos didn't have a dining room, so we ate around the coffee table with the plates balanced on our knees.

Carlos had made naan and okra and curried vegetables and something with lentils, all perfectly spiced and delicious. This was the reason I never turned down an invitation to have dinner at their place... He could cook like nobody's business.

"This is incredibly good," Sam said, after he took a few bites. "You made this yourself? From scratch?"

Carlos grinned...

"It seems more impressive than it actually is. Indian is pretty easy as long as you get the spice mixture right."

"Baby, don't talk yourself down," Joss said. "You make some good food and you know it."

"She's right," Sam said. "Do you have professional training?"

"What, like culinary school?" Carlos laughed. "No, I've just had a lot of practice. Joss burns water, so I do most of the cooking."

"I don't burn water," Joss said. "That's impossible."

"You burned the bottom out of a pot three days ago," Carlos said. "Making instant oatmeal."

"That wasn't my fault!" she said. "The phone rang and it was work, so of course I had to answer it. And then someone had forgotten to make the bed, so..."

"And next thing you know, the smoke detector's going off," Carlos said.

I glanced at Sam, concerned. I was so accustomed to Joss and Carlos' good-natured bickering that I found it almost comforting, but I was afraid that Sam would be annoyed, or disconcerted.

But he looked back at me with his eyes crinkled at the corners and I relaxed. For whatever reason, he was enjoying himself.

"So if you don't cook for a living," Sam said to Carlos. "What is it that you do?"

"Well, I just started a business," Carlos said. Right away Sam sat up straight like somebody had shocked him, and they began talking about about start-up costs and venture capital and who knew what.

Joss looked at me and rolled her eyes... She'd told me that as proud as she was of Carlos, she'd gotten sick of listening to him talk about his business plans at least six months ago.

"You know, if you'd like to send me a prospectus, I might be interested in investing," I heard Sam say, and my stomach dropped.

I looked at Carlos, whose face had suddenly gone flat and expressionless.

"That's very kind of you," he said stiffly.

Sam didn't seem to notice...

"I'm always open to opportunities to support upcoming businesspeople," he said, digging his hole even deeper.

He sounded so condescending...

Upcoming businesspeople like Carlos was a charity project...a lost puppy he needed to save.

I put one hand on Sam's knee.

"I thought we said no talking business at dinner."

"Did we say that?" he asked, but he turned his attention back to his plate, and then asked Joss about her job.

I wasn't sure if he realized that he'd mis-stepped, but he was usually pretty insightful. I just hoped we wouldn't have an awkward conversation about it later.

Crisis averted, Carlos relaxed and started eating again.

I chewed on my lip, worried that he was offended, but he glanced at me and winked. He wasn't mad at me, at least.

I should've said something to Sam in advance, but it didn't occur to me that he would offer to give Carlos money.

He had so much of it that he didn't realize its power.

He made more money in a single day than most people made in a decade.

It wasn't real to him; it was like Monopoly money. So giving a few million to Carlos was nothing. But to Carlos, it would be everything and he was too proud to accept a handout.

I knew that he wanted his business to succeed or fail on its own merits, not because I happened to be dating a billionaire.

I looked at Sam, perched on Jocelyn's dumpster sofa, balancing a plastic plate on his knees. He looked expensive. And he made everything else in the apartment look cheap.

He was kind, warm-hearted and generous, and he would never understand what it meant to need money and not have enough of it.

'But so what,' I asked myself.

So what if he lived a life of privilege?

Things had been going so well; we had fun together, and he was considerate and respected my boundaries.

Was his money really an insurmountable problem?

Watching him talk to Joss, a piece of naan in his hand, I didn't know the answer to that question.

Stay safe!