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MERCEDES
Sam looked like a prince, but if I was going to cast him in a fairy tale now, I'd cast him as The Dragon! A beastly, judgmental, fire-breathing dragon!
Of course, it wasn't surprising, really. My skill in judging character was sadly not skillful. That had been proven once. Quite painfully.
Still, I hadn't been prepared for his mocking contempt. And yeah, okay, so my offer probably sounded outrageous to him initially. But I was the one doing him a favor here.
I was offering him free money. Or practically free.
There was a price, I admitted that. I was asking him...a practical stranger...to marry for money. I couldn't help cringing at the blunt truth.
But I'd made a list and there were far more pros than cons for both of us.
Although, arguably, the cons were very weighty and could tip any scale, regardless of what you titled it.
Despite having tried to present the offer in a very business-like manner, Sam looked at me with such disdain, as if I was yesterday's trash.
And the fact that I felt like yesterday's trash only made it that much worse.
The more condescension he showed me, that faint derision never leaving his expression, the more nervous and ruffled and unsure I became.
I hated that feeling...
I'd known it my whole life. And being scorned felt heartachingly familiar.
And then he'd told me I wasn't his type. As if it mattered. It didn't matter. Not at all. Not one bit. I only needed my money to be his type.
So why had it hurt?
I let out a sigh...
He'd said he would call me, but based on his rude dismissal, I wouldn't hold my breath.
Well...I'd tried. This was another one of my Very Bad Ideas and Sam Evans had let me know that's exactly what he'd thought of it.
In that slightly bored, pleasantly masculine voice of his no less.
I felt my lips curve down...
So the question was, what was I going to do now?
Going back to my father was out of the question. I'd sooner sleep on a street corner. Or at the drop-in center.
My heart sank when I thought of the center... What were they going to do now?
So much was riding on getting my hands on the money my Gram left.
I supposed, I could pull my car over and choose any number of people off the street to make the same offer I'd made to Sam. Or place an ad on the Internet like I'd joked about with Melodie.
I could even sell my car... It was in my name, one of the few things I'd bought with my own money.
But then I wouldn't even have a place to sleep if and when my cash ran out.
I'd just thought... Well, seeing Sam at the bank, it seemed like fate. And the more I'd thought about it yesterday in my small, lonely hotel room, the more my heart had felt like there was something very right about sharing my Gram's money with that man in particular, considering the connection I knew existed between him and my father.
Not that I could share that with him, and not that it would do him any good to know anyway. But I could share the money with him... Money he desperately needed...
And maybe set something right...balance the score in some small measure.
I have to be honest, Sam's looks had swayed me, too. He looked like every hero in every fairy tale I'd ever dreamed, come to life. And, God, I wanted to believe in heroes again.
But sometimes, I supposed, a girl just had to be her own hero.
Especially when the hero in question turned out to be a dragon.
I knew Sam had done wrong in his life, but after examining his case particulars, it seemed more like a terrible accident. And regardless, it was a mistake he'd paid for.
More than paid for.
And now he was still paying by people's perceptions of him. No one would give him a chance, or at least the loan he so desperately needed.
So I'd gone with my gut, decided at the very least to reserve judgment until I'd met him in person, and rushed to his home the next morning before I could completely lose my nerve.
Well...
The Dragon would have to figure out his life for himself. Just as I would. Because I alone controlled my destiny. And I hardly had time to indulge in despair.
I parked my car in the hotel lot and made my way to my hotel room.
There, I stripped out of the dress and sandals I'd worn to meet with Sam...an outfit from my old life I hadn't even realized I'd packed as I'd hurriedly thrown items into my suitcase willy-nilly.
As I'd dressed this morning, I'd been happy for the mistake, though. I'd wanted to appear professional and the jeans or frayed shorts I normally wore didn't exactly say, "take me seriously."
I paused...
But maybe they did say,
"I'm desperate! Marry me!"
Perhaps I should've worn those after all.
After changing, I left the hotel and spent the day walking around downtown Napa, doing some window shopping, browsing through several shops including a bookstore, and stopping for a leisurely lunch at a small café Gram had liked.
Despite being hopeless and without a plan, I made a conscious effort to clear my mind and enjoy the day as much as possible.
If I had to get a waitressing job like Melodie had suggested, then that's what I'd do. I wasn't afraid of hard work. I had hoped for a plan offering more options, but that wasn't to be.
I straightened my spine and channeled my inner Madam C. J. Walker... I'd take today and then I'd come up with a new plan once the disaster that was this morning had rolled off my shoulders.
It was late afternoon when I returned to my hotel, the sky a clear, calm blue. I let myself into my room and lay down on my bed for a minute, fatigue suddenly overwhelming me.
I had tossed and turned the night before in anticipation of my morning call on Sam, so I was exhausted and fell asleep almost immediately.
I came awake blearily, confused for a minute about my surroundings, still in that gap between sleep and wakefulness, knowing something was wrong, but not yet recalling exactly what.
Then reality flowed back in slowly, the same way grief does, the pieces coming together to sit heavily on my chest.
Wincing slightly, I rolled over and looked at the bedside clock... It was after four, so I'd only slept for a little over an hour.
I sighed and sat up. Then headed for the bathroom.
The warm shower soothed my muscles if not my heart and when I got out, I felt a little more alive. I couldn't be bothered with my hair, so I stuck it up in a knot on top of my head that was sure to fall out.
My grandmother had always said my hair was as unmanageable as I was. But she'd said it with so much love in her voice, I couldn't help but hear it as a compliment.
God, how I missed her, even after all the years she'd been gone. And the absence of her unconditional love was still a painful wound.
Just as I was pulling clean clothes out of my suitcase, my cell phone rang...
Melodie, I was sure. But when I looked at the screen, it was a local number I didn't recognize.
My heartbeat stalled and then sped up in my chest as I ran my finger across the screen...
"Hello," I answered breathlessly.
A deep voice returned my greeting, no warmth in it at all.
"It's Sam."
"Oh." I feigned nonchalance as I collapsed on the bed in my towel. "How can I help you?"
"What room are you in?"
"Room?"
"Hotel room. Motel 6, right? Solano Avenue?"
"Uh, yes. But..."
"What room?" he repeated.
"Two eleven. What time will you... Hello?"
Did he just hang up on me?
What the...
Three swift knocks sounded at my door and I let out a startled squeak, dropping my phone on the bed and jumping to my feet.
"Hold on!" I demanded, rushing to my suitcase and hurriedly pulling on a bra and underwear.
The knocking resumed...
"Hold ON!" I yelled again. Of all the rude...dragons!
I pulled the dress I'd worn this morning over my head and buckled the belt before I pulled the door open. Sam Evans filled the doorway, wearing the same thing he'd been wearing earlier...a pair of jeans and a blue T-shirt that stretched nicely over his lean, but obviously well-muscled chest.
His masculinity hit me in the gut...
He smelled like he did that morning too...some sort of fresh, manly smelling soap. But now there was the slight addition of a man's cologne.
I leaned forward, drawn to the masculine scent of him, but then suddenly realized what I was doing. Crossing my arms, I stepped back.
"This is highly unprofessional. You should've given me some warning you were on your way."
He stepped into the room, taking his time looking around. His eyes stopped for a second on my Louis Vuitton luggage before he finally made eye contact.
"I wasn't sure I was coming until about fifteen minutes ago."
"I see. Well, would you like to go downstairs? We could get coffee..."
"This is fine. I won't stay long. I've gotta get back to work."
I glanced around my room at the unmade bed and the clothes strewn about. Then I dragged the chair from the desk forward and sat down on the upholstered bench at the end of the bed.
Sam sat down on the chair.
"I've been considering your offer. But before we go any further, I'd like to meet with the executor of the trust to make sure the money will be paid out as you said it will, upon our marriage or shortly afterwards."
I nodded, my heart rate accelerating.
"Of course. I understand."
He gave one succinct nod.
"And if everything looks fine there, we'll need to have a prenuptial agreement drawn up, stating the financial terms of our marriage."
"Obviously."
"No matter what happens financially in the next year when we're married, no finances or property will be split in any way, shape or form."
"Of course."
His expression remained enigmatic.
"Once I meet with your executor, I'm going to have to trust that upon the payout, you'll actually give me half of it."
I frowned...
"That is our deal."
A piece of hair fell out of my knot and I tried to tuck it back up. Doing so, I saw Sam's eyes following my hand then lingered there as the lock slipped loose again.
"Yes, it is. But Mercedes," he said almost distractedly before looking back to my eyes. He leaned forward, his gaze steady and alert now. "I don't know you. For all I know, we get married, then you get the check and take off for Brazil. Trusting you in any respect would be an act of faith on my part."
I bristled...
"I would never do that."
"So you say. I've found that people say what suits them in the moment. It doesn't always mean it can be counted on."
I knew exactly what he meant.
I took a deep breath and nodded my head.
"I...realize that. But, I intend on keeping my word."
He regarded me for one heartbeat...possibly two, before he looked away.
"I'll agree to you living at Evans Vineyard for two months. That should be enough time to notify your father of our marriage and for you to find a place of your own with your share of the money. If there's an issue with your father, we can renegotiate the timeframe. There's an old gardener's cottage on my property that you can live in. It's small and doesn't offer many luxuries, but it has a bed and running water."
He eyed me in some way I couldn't read.
"Sounds quaint."
"Quaint would be a generous description."
Was that a challenge I read in those green dragon eyes, and perhaps a small quirk of his lip?
"Fine." I lifted my chin. I'd never backed down from my father, and I wouldn't back down from this man.
"You are desperate."
"So are you."
"True enough." He paused. "If you don't mind me asking, why'd you pick me? I mean, other than my desperation?" His lip did quirk up slightly then, but there was no amusement in his eyes. "You could've picked some homeless guy off the street and shared half your inheritance with him. There are lots of desperate people in this world, Mercedes, if you're looking to give money away."
"My father would never believe I had fallen in love with...and married...a homeless man, Sam. It would be too easy for him to contest the payout of the trust. My father is well connected, as you can probably imagine, and I have to be careful. I had to pick the right person. A convincing person."
He tilted his head...
"Your father contesting the payout of the trust... Is that something I need to worry about?"
I shook my head. He would more likely expend every effort towards covering it up or putting a spin on it that worked in his favor, should my marriage to Sam actually happens.
Still...
"I don't think so, but I've learned that where my father is concerned, it's wise to be diligent."
Despite my optimistic words, a chill went down my spine...
"I see. So you intend to convince your father you saw me on the street, fell madly in love and we married in a week?"
I sighed...
"He won't find it such a stretch. He sees me as...impulsive...flighty...irrational."
Sam's green eyes regarded me speculatively...
"And are you? Are you those things?"
I bit my lip.
"Impulsive, yes, I admit I can be. Flighty, no, I don't think so. Irrational, aren't we all sometimes?"
He seemed to consider my answer for a second.
"So that will be our story? We bumped into each other here in Napa, fell in love and impulsively married because we were irrational...but not flighty...with new love?"
I gave him a small smile...
"Basically. I guess we can discuss the details so we're in sync." My heart had started racing again. "So you agree? We have a deal?"
"If all pans out once I meet with the executor, yes, we have a deal."
I nodded and let out a breath. "You won't regret this, Sam."
"Oh, I'm sure I will in some way or another, Mercedes. But...desperate times..."
"Call for desperate measures. And this is about as desperate as measures get."
Sam smiled, flashing me a set of straight, white teeth, but the same disdain he'd shown me earlier was back in his expression.
He didn't see me as someone giving him a gift, but as someone driving him to do something he didn't want to do.
As if I hadn't given him a choice.
Well, that was fine. I didn't need his gratitude. I needed his name.
I couldn't deny the disappointment I felt, though.
When I'd seen him on the street the day before, he'd seemed...lost, broken, but still compassionate. However, the man sitting in front of me now was completely different...stiff and cold.
Had I really misjudged him that poorly?
As if he had read my thoughts, the smile disappeared from his face as quickly as it had appeared.
"There are just a few more things I think we should discuss briefly."
"Okay." I crossed my legs. And his eyes followed my movement. Then he clenched his jaw and looked away before speaking.
"Since you're going to be living on my property and doing some accounting work, I think we should be up front about the nature of our relationship."
"Relationship? I thought that was clear. We're marrying for money. We have no relationship."
The awkward, stilted nature of this meeting highlighted that fact perfectly.
"We'll be business associates. Nothing more."
"Agreed. As long as you're discreet, conduct your personal life as you see fit."
"I intend to."
"Fine."
"Good. I don't want you to get any...fanciful ideas about this arrangement."
I raised a brow...
"Fanciful?"
"Romantic. Inaccurate."
I gritted my teeth...
"Yes, you've made it clear I'm not your type. And I'll try my very best not to fall for your irresistible charms and make things..." I narrowed my eyes, "...unbearably awkward."
"Good."
I wanted to kick Sam. Regardless of what else he was, he was obviously a man used to being pursued by the opposite sex.
And apparently, he either assumed I was some sort of nun, or he had zero concern with how I conducted my own personal life. Most likely the latter.
"What else?" I asked coldly.
He...henceforth referred to as The Dragon...studied me. And I didn't even try to figure out what he was thinking.
But he was probably trying to ascertain whether or not I was actually going to be able to keep myself from falling in love with him.
He was getting uglier by the second...
Arrogant reptile!
"You mentioned my record. I'm assuming you know the nature of my crime?" he asked.
That immediately cooled the anger I'd been feeling. I felt heat creep up in my cheeks.
"I hope you don't find it too intrusive, but I thought it best that I research you before making my offer."
He shrugged...
"That's a wise business decision. Do you have any questions about what you read before we move forward? I'll answer your questions now, but I don't intend to discuss it later."
I couldn't hide the surprise that came over me.
"I...well, from what I understand, you got into a fight with a man outside a bar in San Francisco. And you hit him...repeatedly. He fell and hit his head and died. It was an accident. You didn't intend to kill him. Is that the truth?"
I felt embarrassed to sum up what was certainly an extremely upsetting situation, even now. He'd gone to prison for five years for his crime...
He was silent for so long, I wondered if he'd answer me. Finally, he said simply,
"That's accurate enough."
I regarded him for a moment, but his face was unreadable.
"Prison must've been...very hard for you."
Something passed over his expression, but he schooled it with passivity before I could attempt to name it.
"You have no idea."
There was an awkward silence... I bit my lip...
"And now, you're a felon."
Sam leaned forward, his steady gaze fixed on me, his masculine smell clouding my senses...
"Yes, Mercedes, I'm a felon. I can't get a loan as you well know. My employment options are limited to say the least. And many doors are now closed to me. You're going to be married to a felon. Darius Jones' daughter is going to be married to a felon."
All the more reason for my father to extend our estrangement, perhaps make it permanent. Which suits me just fine. But I didn't say that.
Instead, I answered,
"It'd be difficult for me to disappoint my father more than I already have."
Sam studied me again with his dragon eyes, the ones that seemed to see right through me...
"I'll take your word for that."
He suddenly stood, startling me slightly. Then I jumped up and we almost collided when we both went to step forward.
He steadied me by putting his hands on my upper arms...
I raised my eyes to his and when he looked down at me, he seemed startled, too.
"I have to go," he said, turning and beginning to walk towards the door.
"Okay," I said, following him. "Just one more question, um, regarding the timing of this arrangement." I looked around the hotel room, calculating quickly how many days I could stay here. Of course I'd also need to hire a lawyer to draw up a prenuptial agreement with The Dragon...someone who had no connections to my father. "I know you probably want to... Well, the thing is..."
"You don't have the money to stay here."
I let out a breath.
"I do, but, not for long. Especially if I'm going to need to pay lawyer fees."
He stood in front of the door, rubbing the back of his neck. Finally he said,
"Pack your suitcase. You can come with me now. We'll arrange a lawyer tomorrow. But Mercedes," he turned, looking me in the eyes. "If this doesn't pan out in a way we're both satisfied with, I'm going to ask you to leave immediately."
I nodded.
"You wouldn't have to ask."
He jerked his head in a quick nod.
"I'll give you five minutes to pack."
Yes, sir, Dragon, sir, I was tempted to respond sarcastically. But I zipped my lips and hurriedly began packing my things...
Thirty minutes later I had checked out of the hotel, and was following Sam's black truck. Now we were pulling through the gates of Evans Vineyard.
I had been taken aback by the vineyard's beauty the first time I'd arrived here, and I was just as taken aback now.
Massive oak trees bordered the long driveway, the canopy of leaves shading our vehicles as we drove beneath them.
And the Evans home, which stood just behind a courtyard with a large, round fountain in the center, was a vision of grace and elegance. And yet it managed to look warm and inviting at the same time.
Ivy climbed one side of the large structure and elegantly curved, wrought iron balconies flanked every window on the upper floor.
The acres and acres of vineyards created a breathtaking background to the house and gardens, and I could see a small grove of fruit trees off to the left of the house.
At first glance, it looked like a lush paradise just waiting to be explored. It was only as you drew closer that you noticed the fountain wasn't running, the ivy needed tending, and the lawn and surrounding gardens were overgrown.
The gardener had been dismissed, no doubt. But it was beautiful nonetheless.
In its glory, this place must have been magnificent... My eyes lingered on the rolling hills of vines in the distance, as I wondered at the state of grapes they'd produce.
I looked forward to seeing it restored, not just for Sam's sake, but for the sake of beauty itself. A place like this shouldn't be allowed to crumble to ruin.
I believe Gram would agree. But I pushed the thought of my Gram aside for the moment...
No, she wouldn't want to see this beautiful vineyard in the place she'd loved so much crumble to ruin, but she'd also roll over in her grave to know I was marrying just to get the money.
I was a woman who would marry a complete stranger for money... That was me. Mercedes Jones.
Despair filled my chest momentarily.
And now that I knew that about myself, it brought another small measure of self-loathing.
Sam pulled the truck over before we'd driven around the fountain and I pulled behind him, just noticing a small house on the right, partially hidden behind a very large oak and overgrown foliage.
He had called it the gardener's cottage, but most likely, any gardeners who had worked here recently hadn't lived on the property and had used this 'house' strictly for equipment storage.
Still, there was something quaint about it, half hidden as it was, and draped in overgrown wisteria.
I got out of my car and Sam did the same, walking towards me.
There was a glint of a devilish challenge in his expression...
Did he expect me to balk at the accommodations?
Probably.
Surely he saw me just as everyone else did, a spoiled princess and a daddy's girl who lived a frivolous, useless existence.
And now he was going to have some fun with me...
But what did I care what he thought?
In a few months' time, I'd never see him again. Our lawyers could handle the extremely straightforward divorce proceedings and I wouldn't think of him again.
And vice versa I was sure.
I followed him to the door of the cottage, where he moved the large showy blooms of purple wisteria aside and opened it without a key.
Inhaling a big breath of the vining flowers, I stepped inside...
Well...
Old, obviously unused gardening equipment filled the front room. It was dusty, dirty and smelled of mustiness and motor oil.
I fought my way through the cobwebs and walked into the second room, what had once been a bedroom, but now only held a small metal bed with rusted springs.
"I'll have Alice bring you some blankets and a pillow, of course," Sam said from behind me.
I whirled around and eyed him...
Was that amusement in his eyes?
Why yes, it was.
His lip trembled as if he was trying to control a smile that wanted to burst forth. He thought this was funny, did he?
Well, what he didn't know was that the accommodations I'd been keeping for the past year were far worse than this.
To the people I'd been living with, this would be a castle.
"I'll bathe in the fountain, I suppose?" I asked, smiling sweetly at him.
"The fountain doesn't work. There's running water here. Only cold, though, no hot. That won't be a problem, will it?"
"Noooo," I drawled out. "A nice cold shower invigorates a person, I've found. I prefer cold showers actually."
The scaly dragon appeared to consider that...
"I'll bet you do," he finally said, leaning one narrow hip on the doorframe as he watched me.
How nice for him that he was having so much fun. But I'd never back down now. I'd sleep on the floor in this dusty shack if it meant getting the best of Sam Evans.
"Is there a kitchen? A place I might eat the crusts of bread you'll throw me?" I asked. "After I give you your portion of my inheritance, of course."
"No, you'll have to eat up at the main house. I'll tell Alice to expect you for dinner," he said, ignoring the second part of my question.
I remembered Alice from earlier... A plump, sweet-looking, gray-haired woman.
"Will you be there?" I asked.
"No. I'll be going out."
Silence...
Okaaaaay...
"Who will you tell Alice I am exactly?"
"I'll tell her and her husband, Harold the truth. They've known me my whole life. They're the epitome of discreet."
Anxiety assaulted me and my heartbeat sped up at the thought of his housekeeping staff knowing our marriage was fake. But I decided to trust his epitome of discreet description.
Plus, there would be no way to pretend we'd fallen in love when yesterday, I hadn't existed in his life at all and they'd very well know it.
I wished this was something I could do on my own, but it wasn't. I needed him.
"I see. Okay." I looked around the cottage again, distracting myself with an assessment of the space. "Well, there are some definite cons, but there are pros, too."
He furrowed his brow, nodded once and then turned to leave.
"Dinner's at seven thirty."
That was in less than an hour. I guess I'd get started cleaning this place up as much as possible, then.
Sam came back inside a few minutes later, set my suitcase down, and then turned to leave.
Suddenly he stopped, and I thought he was going to tell me he'd just been kidding about this place. Instead, he said coldly,
"By the way, I absolutely prohibit the use of drugs on my property. If I find that you've brought them here, our deal's off."
I sputtered, trying to think of a retort, but before I could come up with anything, he turned and walked out, closing the door behind him.
A second later, I heard his truck roar to life and drive away.
Clearly he'd looked me up and read about the 'situation' I'd been in a year ago.
It was too late, but I picked up an empty soda can off the floor and hurled it at the closed door.
Vile serpent!
I should call this whole sham off immediately.
How dare he treat me like this after I'd made him the most generous offer of his scaly life?
His arrogance knew no bounds. And he'd judged me to be a spoiled brat. A spoiled druggie brat.
But beneath my anger, there was an undeniable feeling of shame and sadness. Was this worth it?
God, I had to believe it would be.
Someday...
Stay safe!