Thank you for your continued interest and support. I appreciate it.
I do not own Glee or the characters, neither do I own Grayson's Vow.
SAM
Mercedes had remained as if she was really going to live in that small, dirty hovel. I smirked to myself, wondering how long it would take her to come running to the main house, telling me there was no way in hell she'd stay there.
Fifteen minutes? At dinner, tops.
I had to give her a small measure of respect, though. She'd played along with the joke. I had expected outrage, foot stomping and maybe some breath holding.
But the little witch had a tad more grit to her than I'd originally thought. And I hadn't had so much fun in... Well, in a really long time.
I had even wanted to laugh for a minute there. And to be honest, I hadn't even realized how foreign that feeling had become until the amusement rose in my throat.
I took a quick shower, changed into clean clothes and then went downstairs to let Alice know there'd be a guest for dinner.
When I walked into the kitchen, it was fragrant with the smell of her beef stroganoff. Maybe I'd eat in after all...
"Beautiful evening, isn't it?" Alice asked, smiling brightly at me.
I grabbed a beer from the refrigerator, opened it and downed half the bottle before grunting an affirmative response.
"I have something to talk to you about."
She stopped stirring and eyed me...
"Sounds ominous."
I shook my head, taking another swig of the cold beer.
"For me, yes, but not for you."
"You know anything that affects you negatively affects me, too, Sammy," she said softly. And a small corner of my heart, the part that still lived, throbbed with regret.
"I know, Alice."
"So what is it? Just get it out there."
"I'm getting married. Probably."
The spoon clattered to the stovetop and she brought her hands to her mouth.
"You knocked someone up. Oh, Sammy!"
I choked on the sip of beer I'd just taken...
"No, God no!"
"What then? Why? Who?" Alice sputtered.
At that, I gave her the bare facts of what Mercedes had presented to me in my office that morning.
And even after having a whole day to think on the topic, it still sounded crazy. Utterly insane.
"The facts haven't been confirmed, yet. But she'll be here for dinner, so I wanted to let you know. Actually, she's staying here for the time being."
Alice's face was a study in disapproval. She clearly hated this idea.
"Marrying for money, Sammy? No, I don't want this for you. And does this girl have no ethics? You deserve more. You deserve..."
"It's temporary, okay. If it turns out to be as Mercedes says, it will be a good thing for this vineyard. And frankly, it's my last hope." I set my jaw, unwilling to argue about this with Alice. "You know my situation."
"Yes, but...temporary? Marriage isn't temporary. Marriage isn't a business deal either... It's not a matter of contracts and negotiations. Marriage is sacred. A sacred vow to love forever."
I snorted...
Alice knew I had little to no respect for the sanctity of marriage after witnessing the frigid nature of my own father and stepmother's wedded bliss.
"Most people aren't like you and Harold, Alice. Just look at Jennine and Dwight Evans."
Tenderness filled Alice's expression as she stepped closer to me. She took a moment, seemingly to collect her words...
"Sammy dear, I know since you've come home, things have changed so much and everything has been so hard for you. And I know you blame yourself...for all of it. But you've changed, love. You don't smile... You just work. You've shut down. But this is not the answer to your problems. It can't be. I can't let you do this..."
I set the empty beer bottle down, the glass clanking loudly on the marble countertop, anger and helplessness filling my chest.
I hardly needed Alice's summation of who I'd become... Who I'd been forced to become.
I lived with myself every second of every day.
"You're my housekeeper, Alice, not my mother. I won't discuss this further. Set another plate."
Hurt flashed in Alice's eyes, but she pressed her lips together, turned back to the stove and muttered something I couldn't hear and didn't care to.
She was as soft as her husband was rigid.
"You'll be staying for dinner, of course," she said without turning, as I started to leave the kitchen. "To introduce us to your future wife."
I halted, the word wife making me jolt slightly. I much preferred business partner when it came to Mercedes. But I know Alice was purposely trying to rattle me, trying to make clear what I was considering.
I hadn't really planned on eating dinner at home, but I said,
"Of course."
I'd give Alice that much at least.
I closed myself in my office and opened up the website for the Napa Valley Clerk's Office...
There was no waiting period for getting married. Me and Mercedes simply needed to make an appointment and show up with a witness, or use one provided by them.
Hopefully, she wouldn't have a problem quickly making an appointment with the executor of her trust.
Because the sooner we got this fake marriage started, the sooner we could get this fake marriage ended. And then we could both get on with our lives.
I rifled through my mail, putting the bills aside. And for the first time in months I didn't cringe at the very large pile.
If this worked...
If this worked, I could pay them all. I wouldn't let myself think about specifics, though, until everything had been confirmed.
I halted when I saw a personal letter addressed to me in feminine handwriting I recognized immediately...
And my chest squeezed momentarily before I had a chance to steel myself.
However, curiosity pricked at my mind, but I held firm and tossed the letter aside.
There was nothing she could say that would ever change anything. I didn't need to hear her pitiful words of explanation or apology.
"God damn you, Olivia," I whispered, leaning my elbows on my desk and taking my head in my hands for a few moments.
Now I really wanted to get out of here and blow off some steam. Instead, I had to dine with a stranger who might very well be my wife in a short time.
Alice was right. This was a terrible idea. Absolutely ridiculous!
Because no matter in what capacity I let them in, somehow women always had a way of ruining my life. And the truth of the matter was, Mercedes Jones would end up being the worst of all.
She would be a constant, shameful reminder of just how far I'd fallen...
A constant reminder of what I'd been reduced to... Marrying a stranger for money.
If I could find any humor in it at all, I'd laugh at my own pitiful predicament... I'd laugh at the fact that I was even considering this insanity.
A few minutes later, I heard the front doorbell, so I finished up what I was doing, knowing Harold would answer it in his formally cold, no-nonsense demeanor.
Of course, if anyone was used to dealing with servants, it was undoubtedly Mercedes Jones.
She was probably used to a whole swarm doing her bidding and meeting her every whim.
When I finally made my way to the kitchen, she was seated at the large, well-worn, farmhouse dinner table, with a glass of wine in front of her.
She was wearing jeans and a green blousy-type shirt. And her hair was pulled back as severely as it had been that morning.
Had that been only hours ago?
It seemed more like a decade...
Alice was moving around the kitchen, ignoring her. Then she addressed me without looking my way...
"I didn't clean the dining room today as I was unaware there'd be a guest." She shot a disdainful look at Mercedes. "I hope eating in the kitchen meets with your approval, sir."
She had put the emphasis on sir, obviously trying to make me feel guilty about referring to her as nothing more than a housekeeper earlier.
"You know I don't like to eat in the dining room anyway, Alice. This is fine."
I sat down at the table, nodding once to Mercedes and taking a sip of my water.
"You don't drink wine?" she asked.
"Only sometimes."
"Isn't that unusual for someone who runs a winery?"
"I suppose."
She kept looking at me, but when I didn't continue, she looked away, taking in the kitchen.
"This kitchen is really beautiful," she said softly.
Before I could answer, Alice placed a plate in front of her, a little harder than necessary, I noted, causing a small dollop of sauce to splash onto the table.
Then she delivered my plate in the same fashion, turning her nose up as she walked away.
Without acknowledging her, I began to eat...
Alice started clanking around in the kitchen, ignoring me and Mercedes. And other than the noise of dishes being handled, an awkward silence ensued.
And continued...
Then continued some more...
The clock on the kitchen wall ticked loudly, too, the only other sounds...Alice's angry dish washing and our forks hitting the plates now and then.
I noticed Mercedes shifting in her seat and looked up to see a dark red flush in her cheeks.
She caught my eye...
"Have you ever been to Africa?" she suddenly asked.
Africa?
I opened my mouth to answer, but she spoke first. Apparently, the question had been rhetorical.
"Kenya, specifically. They have a wonderful welcome custom there. The warriors of the tribe, wearing their most vibrant costumes, do what's called a jumping dance. They all form a circle and compete to jump the highest, demonstrating to their guests the strength and bravery of their tribe. It's magnificent! The heights some of them can jump is unreal." A lock fell loose from her pulled-back hair, but she ignored it, taking a big bite of stroganoff, not even bothering to swallow before continuing... "I was just thinking what a run for their money you could give them with the Evans welcoming custom, though. It's heartwarming. I can't tell you how comfortable you've made me feel. Of course, in Kenya, you can also expect a mixed cocktail of cow's milk and blood to be part of your greeting, so that does knock off a few points for them. Still..."
I put my fork down...
"Are you done?"
Sparks seemed to flash in her eyes as she met my gaze.
"Not really. Why?"
A jolt speared down my spine at those sparks making her large brown eyes bright with indignation. But then she took a casual sip of wine and returned to her meal.
I looked at Alice and swore I saw one side of her lip quirk up before she turned away.
I clenched my jaw at Mercedes' sarcastic response, but had to concede that she was right... We'd been rude to her.
I was in a shitty mood. But she hadn't really done anything wrong.
I didn't like her...or rather, I didn't like her type. And her existence in my home was a blatant reminder of the many ways I'd failed.
But that didn't mean I couldn't be civil.
She was presenting a way out. I wouldn't act like she was doing me a huge favor despite the money, though. And I wouldn't pretend I liked this situation or that we weren't partners in this distasteful business deal, either.
But we were both making a sacrifice here...
She was handing over what amounted to be a lot of money to me, but she was also going to be disrupting my life for the next few months, the next year, maybe longer when it came to taxes, seeing her name on forms for the rest of my life...
But we'd be civil business associates, I decided. And honestly, she'd been all right so far. I'd even had a little fun earlier with the whole gardener's cottage thing. Which, come to remember, she hadn't brought up yet.
"We should discuss..." I started...
"The fact that you're the offspring of a fire-breathing lizard? I already figured that out."
Alice snorted from the kitchen but covered it up with the bang of a pot.
"Listen, Mercedes..."
"No, you listen, Sam..." More hair fell to frame her face as she banged her little fist down on the table and glared at me, her witchy eyes flashing again, heating my blood, much to my own dismay. "I'm making you a very generous offer here. If this is going to work, I refuse to let you treat me as you've done so far. I can assure you, that with your credentials, you won't get a better offer than mine. Keep treating me like you of all people have the right to look down on me, and I'll leave and take my inheritance with me."
Anger raced through my blood and I banged my own fist on the table. And had the satisfaction of seeing Mercedes jump slightly.
"If this is going to work, I won't be treated like you're taking pity on me and I'm not making as much of a sacrifice as you are," I gritted out. "Do you think I have any desire whatsoever to marry you or anyone else?"
"No, I'd imagine you're about as capable of monogamy as a junkyard dog. Not that that has anything at all to do with me."
As if from a great distance, I heard Alice cough again and I narrowed my eyes to slits.
"Exactly! Do you think I'd be doing this if I wasn't utterly desperate and if you weren't my Very. Last. Option? So, throw the money in my face if you will, but don't act like you don't need me, too. Don't act like you're not just as desperate as I am. And don't act like I'm not your best and only prospect. You said it yourself. For someone who came here begging, you'd be wise to treat me with some respect."
Her face turned a very dark red...
"Begging?" she hissed. "Begging?"
Heavy cascades of dark velvet fell around her face as her hair came completely loose from whatever she'd been using to hold it back.
I almost sucked in a breath. I hadn't realized she had so much of it. It surrounded her pretty face and swung around her shoulders, looking as if it went halfway down her back.
She stood up slowly and I did, too, until we were both glaring at each other across the expanse of the kitchen table.
The air between us crackled with...something, the heat in the air practically shimmering.
And strangely, that tingling heat was now dancing through my blood in a full-blown performance much like the African welcome dance she had described, making me feel vitally...alive.
"I was crazy to come here. This..." she waved between us. "...is crazy. It'll never work. We should call it off. I could find someone else to marry. I can't imagine why I chose you. I find you...exceedingly difficult to like."
"I agree. It's ridiculous. And vice versa."
"Good. It's off," she hissed.
"Good," I growled. We stared each other down, her eyes dancing with angry fire. And why the hell did I like that so much?
After several tense, heated moments, I made a conscious effort to control my breathing, raising an eyebrow at her.
"And by the way, next time you offer to marry someone, you should try to be a little more meek. A man likes some obedience in a wife."
More fire glowed in Mercedes' eyes and another undeniable thrill shot down my spine.
"Alice," she suddenly said very sweetly. "Do you have a pen and paper I could borrow?"
"Oh yes," Alice said, grabbing a pen and pad of paper out of the junk drawer and practically running it over to her, as if she was suddenly at her beck and call.
I watched Mercedes closely, waiting to see what she would do next...
The little witch smiled politely at Alice and then uncapped the pen carefully, putting it on the end with deliberate slowness, and then holding the pad of paper up, the pen poised before it.
"What was that now? I want to make sure I get every single word of wise advice," she said, stretching out the word every. "Meek, was it? Does that have double e or is it ea? I can never remember."
I regarded her through lowered lashes, resisting the urge to laugh at her ridiculous display of sarcasm.
"I wouldn't worry so much about the spelling of the word meek if I was you... I'd worry more about how to embrace the concept."
"Hmm," she hummed. "And obedient, you said?"
"Yes."
"Obedient...yes." She made a big check mark on the paper. "And?"
"Your sharp tongue...that will be a turnoff to future husbands."
She pretended to write that down.
"Sharp tongue...no." She marked a big X on the paper. "What else?"
We stared at each other for a few more strained seconds, her expression a phony look of intense interest and mine a mild smirk.
The truth was, I didn't even know if the legal aspects of the fake marriage she'd proposed were legitimate. But talking about calling it off before even knowing caused a spear of disappointment to shoot through my body.
I hated the idea... I hated the little spiky-tongued witch standing in front of me... I hated that in reality, she did have more power in this situation than I did, but at the same time, it was the first thing in a long while that had given me some hope.
And I didn't even realize until that moment how sweet that hope tasted.
I looked away first, breaking the intensity flowing between Mercedes and I, but she was the first to speak as she set the pen and paper on the table.
"Listen, this situation is unusual to say the least..." She paused again and I looked back to her. The spark had gone out of her eyes as if the idea of calling it off wasn't exactly what she wanted either. "I called the executor of my trust before I walked over here. He can see us late in the day tomorrow. Maybe we could find a way to coexist at least until we've ascertained everything is as I've said. And then we can make a final decision from there."
"I can agree to that."
She took a deep breath...
"Okay, good." She held out her hand. "Truce?"
She arched an eyebrow. I looked at her hand and held out my own from across the table.
"Truce. Come here so we can shake."
"You come here," she challenged.
I smiled slowly...
"Let's meet in the middle."
She narrowed her eyes, but nodded, stepping away from her chair.
I stepped away from mine and we met next to the center of the large table, where I took her warm hand in mine and shook it even as we regarded each other warily.
Finally, she smiled and I gave one in return. Then she returned to her seat and so did I.
When Alice came over to refill Mercedes' wine, she regarded her not with disdain, but with a wary curiosity.
Very interesting...
Somehow our fighting had ingratiated her to Alice.
Women were all a mystery to me. However, Mercedes gave her a small smile and thanked her for the delicious meal.
"Would you like to see the rest of the house?" I asked, trying to make a small peace offering.
She looked surprised, but nodded yes. So we got up from the table and before we moved off, she thanked Alice again.
In return, Alice gave a smile that seemed genuine but didn't offer one to me.
Yes, very interesting...
I brought Mercedes back to the main foyer and we started from there.
"My father had this place designed to mimic a French chateau."
She nodded as we entered the formal living room.
"It really does. It reminds me of a smaller-scale fairy-tale castle. There's something...enchanting about it." She gasped when she spotted the large window overlooking the back of the house. The pool was directly below, down a set of steps, and off a natural stone patio. However, her head was lifted and I knew she was staring at the hedge maze just beyond that. She whirled toward me... "It's a maze! And it's massive."
I clenched my jaw just as I did each time I looked at that hateful thing.
"It's completely overgrown. If I had the extra money, I would've had it mown down when I moved back."
"Why?" she asked. "It's incredible! Can I go inside sometime...?"
"No! Absolutely not!" I gentled my tone. "It isn't safe."
She didn't know why I hated it and she never would, but I had spoken the truth...it was too overgrown to be safe.
Her head snapped up...those bright, penetrating eyes of hers no doubt flashing. I could feel them boring into the side of my face.
When I made eye contact, she raised one delicate brow.
"This is the heart of your lair, I suppose?" She smiled prettily. "Where you were...hatched?"
I narrowed my eyes and tried to give her a scathing look, but I knew she was joking and I couldn't resist the smile that made its way to my lips.
I chuckled softly...
"Perhaps." I raised my own brow. "But in all seriousness, just stay away from it."
After a short pause, she looked away and shrugged.
"Well, okay, it's your house."
I took Mercedes through the rooms one by one and watched her reaction.
This house had been a showpiece at one time, but signs of neglect were everywhere. And despite the now-sparse furnishings, Alice, being only one person, could hardly keep the whole thing as spotless as it had once been.
When I said as much, Mercedes looked at me and stated,
"You grew up in a life of privilege."
I knew what she wasn't saying... I had acted as if she was the only one who'd known luxury.
"Privilege isn't only defined by material wealth, Mercedes. I grew up in a fine home with lots of hired help, but I can assure you, I never lived a life of privilege. For all intents and purposes, I never had any parents at all."
She tilted her head, confusion filling her expression.
"What does that mean, Sam?"
I shook my head.
"The specifics of my family dynamics don't matter. Suffice it to say, I'm used to hard work, and I won't let a dollar of the money you're so generously offering me go to waste. In fact, I'm considering the money you're giving me a loan. Once the vineyard is bringing in a profit, I'll pay you back."
She was quiet for a moment. Finally, she simply nodded.
"We don't need to put that in the paperwork, but should you choose..."
She waved her hand in the air as if I could do as I pleased on that front.
Interesting...
I wasn't sure what to think of her response.
When we walked through the upstairs corridor, Mercedes stopped at the picture of my father and stepmother...
"They've both passed?" she asked softly, glancing back at me.
I shook my head.
"Only my father. My stepmother lives in San Francisco."
She turned slowly towards me.
"Does she have no interest in helping with the vineyard her husband loved? Or does she not have the financial means...?"
"She has plenty of money. My father left this vineyard to me. And I won't ask my stepmother for a dime of the money my father left her. We have no relationship. We've never had and we never will."
I should have to tolerate you when your own mother couldn't even be bothered? she'd asked me when I was twelve. I could still hear the cold words echoing through my head.
"I'd rather... Well, I'd rather marry a stranger for money before going to her for a loan." I gave Mercedes a wry smile, but she didn't smile back. "Anyway, the vow I've made is to my father. And it's for me to fulfill."
She looked at me, tilting her head.
"I understand vows, Sam. I've made them, too. I've vowed never again to depend upon my father."
Mercedes turned back to the photo and looked at it for another long minute.
"You must favor your mother," she said.
"Yes, to everyone's dismay," I said. "But I believe I'm a perfect mix of both."
She glanced at me, but didn't question that cryptic remark. I wasn't even sure why I'd made it. I hardly wanted her questioning anything about my life.
She looked back to the wall of pictures, leaning closer to a photo. And I studied her profile, her cute button nose, the curve of her jaw, the feathery curl of her lashes, and that long, silken hair falling around her face and down her back.
"You have a brother," she said, looking at the picture of Stevie and I.
"Yes."
"Does he live nearby?"
"No, he lives in San Diego."
"Are you close?"
"I haven't spoken to my brother in over five years."
She turned to me again...
"Oh, I'm so sorry."
"Don't be," I said, my voice clipped as I led her away before she could ask any more intrusive questions. I was already feeling very uncomfortable with this tour. And I couldn't blame her, it had been my own idea.
"Well, I'll leave you with Alice. She'll get you settled into a room. I'm going out," I said dismissively once we'd descended the stairs.
She looked confused for a second.
"Yes, okay. Well, thanks. Have a good night."
I nodded curtly and started to walk away, narrowing my eyes when I heard her humming. But I turned back and walked towards her...
"Are you humming 'Puff The Magic Dragon'?"
Her eyes blinked, looking big and innocent. A clear act.
"Is that what that song is? I never knew the name, or who exactly lived in Honali, just the tune mostly."
She shrugged.
I glared down at Mercedes for several long moments. And she held eye contact with me, that little chin tipped up.
The air buzzed, pinpricks of awareness hitting my skin...
Finally, finished with her little game, I turned away again, leaving her standing alone in my front foyer.
Stay safe!