Thank you for your continued support. And special thanks to dorknhime, Emma, Mowatts87, monni2215, and HomiesOverHoes for showing this story some love. I appreciate it more than I could say.
Standard disclaimer.
Lunch wore on at the Texas Lily.
At Mercedes' elbow, Carmen was waiting with a giant bowl of mashed potatoes, so she helped herself to some. She also took slices of roast beef, when it was passed to her and politely asked,
"Did you cook this, Mr. Evans?"
"No, but I raised it." He gave her a dazzling smile. "Please call me Sam. All the ladies do." She gave him a cold stare.
"Mr. Evans is fine, and you may continue to call me Miss Jones." Sam sighed.
She looked around the table, realizing that the girls were dressed in sexy low-cut clothes. She's never felt as dowdy and homely, as she did right now.
"Some men would feel their masculinity threatened by an apron." Sam simply grinned again.
"Now, Miss Jones, do I look as if my masculinity is lacking?"
"I promise you it ain't," Quinn tossed in and all the girls laughed. Mercedes felt her face flush.
"It was not a personal enquiry. I can assure you, Mr. Evans." Her tone was as cold as ice.
Carmen came through the kitchen door, just then, carrying another giant tray, full of meat this time.
That was followed by hot rolls, gravy, all sorts of vegetables and huge glasses of iced tea.
Sam dug into his food, like a man who likes to eat, but then, all his passions were big, Mercedes thought critically.
He was probably like Falstaff in that Shakespearean play…with a huge appetite for women, food and drink.
The girls were now chatting with each other, while Mercedes ate daintily.
The gambler frowned and gestured with his knife.
"Miss Jones, eat up, there's plenty more."
She hadn't meant to, but she found herself eating heartily after that.
The girls were too busy eating and chatting to pay much attention to her. They talked and laughed like a bunch of magpies.
Mercedes winced at their table manners and their grammar. There would certainly be a lot to teach them, to turn them into respectable women.
Just when she thought she couldn't eat another a bite, Carmen appeared with a huge chocolate cake.
"I really don't think…" she began, but Sam cut her off and gave her thick slice.
"Eat up," he commanded. "A little more here, or there, won't matter." The girls giggled and smiled at him. Evidently, in their eyes, the rascal could do no wrong.
"Mr. Evans," Mercedes said coldly. "Don't you know it's rude to comment on a lady's physical…"
"I'm just worried about you. You don't have to eat sparingly here. I'm a ladies' man, remember…doesn't matter what size, shape or color," he grinned.
She stared him down, in a disapproving way, but he went on,
"After all, if something happens to one of us, the other gets both halves of the Lily. By the way, Mercedes seems very stuffy. You look more like a Mercy to me."
Mercedes wanted to slap him. Her hands itched to do it.
"My name is Mercedes, but you may call me Miss Jones."
She kept her voice frosty, which was difficult between bites of the delicious chocolate cake. She pinned him in a stare and said with finality,
"Mr. Evans, we need to talk."
"Again? And please call me Sam."
Again, he gave her a warm charming smile, that was so full of animal magnetism, her hands shook, as she sipped her iced tea. She drew in a calming breath and silently told herself,
'That might work on these young, daffy girls, but I'm a mature young woman…and I'm not easily taken in by some four-flusher.'
The girls had just about finished chattering amongst themselves and now, they all got up and left the table without asking to be excused, or waiting for the host to leave the table first.
They were manner-less, so to speak. They all seemed friendly though, except for Quinn, who had glared at Mercedes all through lunch.
She seemed to see her as an interloper…a threat, competing for Sam's attention.
'As if I would consider…' But in her mind, she was naked in his bed and he was kissing her roughly, his big hands pulling her to him…
"Miss Jones, are you alright? You're trembling." He was staring at her, as if he could read her thoughts. She felt the blood rush to her face.
"It…it's cold." She could kick herself for sounding so damn silly. It was the middle of the year and very warm.
"Cold? It's almost June," he said.
"Never mind," she snapped and let out a breath. "Mr. Evans, after much thought, I have decided on what I'm going to do with my half of the establishment."
"Good." He wiped his mouth and lay his napkin next to his plate. "Your aunt had a head for business. If we must be partners, I'm glad to hear you're taking an interest."
"More than you know." She smiled at him. He shifted in his chair, a bit uneasy. Obviously, he didn't trust her, but that smile of hers, would be his undoing.
"The locksmith will be here right after dinner," he offered.
"Good. I'm pleased to hear that."
He leaned towards her and smiled, and she took a deep breath. The sheer animal magnetism of the man made her uneasy and she shifted in her chair.
Sam picked up on it. He decided to play with her. Smiling, he said,
"Surely, Miss Mercy, you wouldn't think that I would push myself up to a lady? I'm a southerner and I do have some sense of propriety." She snorted.
"I doubt you know the meaning of the word." He grinned broadly.
"Whatever I lack in formal education, Miss Jones, I'm sure I make up for it in the school of Hard Knocks. I may have come from a poor family…what others call white trash, but I've always believed that a man should be judged by his actions, not his ancestry."
"In that case, you would've probably been hanged, a long time ago." She stood, giving him a cold, hard look. "As I said before, I have decided."
"Good." His smile was genuine. "I've got a few ideas myself, on improving the business and…"
"No, no, Mr. Evans. You don't understand. I wasn't bluffing. I intend to close the upstairs and help these women, in every way I can."
Sam Evans' face went pale, stony, and then dark.
"What? You're serious?"
"Yes, you heard me. From now on, the upstairs is off limits to men. I will go up and inform the ladies, that from tonight, we will have classes in my room instead."
"You will ruin my business, Miss Jones."
"I'm not bothering your half, Mr. Evans. Just remember, I own the upstairs. Good day to you."
A slew of curse words followed her, as she walked briskly towards the stairs and disappeared up them.
Sam sat watching the space where he had lost sight of her, with a murderous look on his face. His fists were clenched and every visible vein seemed to be bulging.
He wanted to go after her and drag her back, so that they could hash things out. But he knew he had to cool off first.
There was no way in hell, he could try reasoning with her, wound this tight. This wasn't finished, not by a long shot.
Mercedes is bound and determined to do what she says. Poor Sam, this is the first woman he's ever had to deal with, that he couldn't charm. And Quinn, still trying to be vindictive and as rude as ever, towards Mercedes.