Disclaimer: I own nothing. Most of this is borrowed from Glee, the author, Twyla Turner, role plays, and other sources. I am just the juggler keeping all these perspectives in the air as this story is told for our fandom.
Chapter Two
March 31, 2023
Mercedes closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. Her attempt to give her failing patience some CPR, as the couple across from her bickered back and forth with each other. It was Friday, and she was so over dealing with people for the week. The muscle in her jaw was beginning to tick and her head had started throbbing with a killer headache. All induced by the severe pains in the ass across from her. The Claringtons.
From the moment they hired Mercedes, she thought that their name was rather fitting. Because they'd been a thorn in her side ever since.
"Ms. Jones-"
"Mercedes," she corrected Mr. Clarington. She felt like people were addressing her mother when they called her that.
"Mercedes, isn't there a way to incorporate my modern-industrial aesthetic with Kitty's country/French Provincial/shabby chic style?" Hunter Clarington asked, looking up from the digital design on Mercedes's laptop that she had worked on for hours.
"Not unless you want your house to look like it was designed by a blind man." Mercedes blurted out honestly.
They blinked at her in surprise.
Time for some tough love.
"Look, Mr. and Mrs. Clarington, you have to pick a preference and stick to it. Hunter, last week you wanted rustic and the week before that mid-century modern. Kitty, you originally wanted English country, then Coastal, and now a combination of country, French, and shabby chic? I've been working on digital mockups as well as collecting samples and swatches for your renovation for three weeks and neither of you have been satisfied with what I've come up with because you keep changing your mind." Mercedes leaned forward and snapped her laptop shut with enough force for them to jump slightly and flutter Kitty's hair.
"By this point on any project I've worked on in the past, we'd be past demolition day and well into the contractors framing, putting up walls, and laying down floors. Yet here we are, as I listen to you both continue to argue."
The couple looked at each other guiltily. Mercedes smiled internally and sat back in her chair as if she had all the time in the world. Now, I've got their attention.
"Now, I can work with rustic and country, modern and French, or even industrial and shabby. But you better pick and you better pick today. My company is not struggling for clientele, and I have no problem with letting you go as a client. Time is money. You've paid me the first half of my commission, but I'd like to get paid the final half sometime in this century." Mercedes finished looking back and forth between the two of them, not backing down for one second.
She'd been working on building her interior design career for nine years since joining Kurt and then leaving to open up her own company. The last three years she'd reached a level of success where she had to turn away clients. Some still insisted that she be the one to design their homes, so she'd had to start a wait list. There was no way in hell that she was going to continue to let this entitled couple waste her time with their antics while she wasn't getting paid in full. Not when she had plenty of clients who were waiting with bated breath to move forward with their projects and renovations.
"Maybe we should just take our business to someone with a little more patience," Kitty said indignantly.
"That works for me. I have several clients waiting to move forward with me." Mercedes nodded happily, surprising the woman with her eagerness to kick them to the curb. "But I would be remiss if I didn't warn you. Many of the designers in the area know each other, and the word about…difficult clients can spread rather quickly. So, if I were you, I'd think long and hard about what I want before going to another designer. Because if you waste the time of one more designer, no one in the area will touch you. Got it?"
Mercedes purposely made it part warning and part threat. She didn't want to unleash this couple on another poor, unsuspecting designer. One was enough.
"Fine." Kitty said looking at Mercedes if she was gum on the bottom of her red bottom shoes.
"If you stop by my assistant, she'll issue you a refund of seventy-five percent of your initial payment to me. You did take up three weeks of my time, so a full refund is impossible at this point." Mercedes raised an eyebrow, waiting for any rebuttal.
"That will be fine." Hunter stated.
Mrs. Clarington lifted her nose up so high in the air, if it started raining, Mercedes was sure she'd drown. Mr. Clarington looked away sheepishly, knowing in his heart they'd been a pain in the ass. They needed a therapist more than an interior designer. After getting a check from Mercedes's assistant, he nodded briskly and escorted his wife out the door of Mercedes's quaint little office on Riley Street.
"Dang it!" Mercedes let out her frustration as the door closed behind them. "Bree?" Mercedes called over to her efficient associate.
"Yes, Mercedes?" Her assistant answered immediately, looking up from her computer.
"See who's next on the waiting list. Give them a call and let them know that my schedule just opened up. And if their project is small, call the next after that on the list to let them know I can work with them as well. I have to make up for being three weeks behind schedule." Mercedes grumbled as she headed into her smaller private office.
"Will do," Bree called back to her.
"Thank you, Bree. You're the best."
Mercedes closed her door and collapsed in her chair.
She was so happy that she had Bree. The nineteen-year-old was loyal and efficient. All while attending online college to get her design degree. They'd met through Second Chances. A mentor/surrogate mother or father program for troubled children growing up in single parent homes, who needed that mother or father figure that they were missing in their life.
Mercedes had been assigned to Bree four years ago, and they'd hit it off immediately. So much so that they didn't want to let each other go when Bree aged out of the program at nineteen.
It was Mercedes's way of righting past wrongs. The guilt for not realizing what Shane had been doing early on, and all the children who were trafficked because she was blind and didn't save them, ate at her like a cancer. Signing up to be a mentor for someone, eased the guilt little by little. Knowing that there was a chance she was possibly saving a life.
Now that Bree was doing well and in college, it was time for Mercedes to be assigned to a new girl who needed guidance. She had been notified a week ago that she'd get to meet her new mentee next month.
She was anxious and nervous all at once. Anxious to finally meet her, and nervous that she wouldn't be able to make a difference in the girl's life. Only time would tell.
Mercedes turned onto her street later than usual that evening. She circled the neighborhood, all the while seriously thinking about moving to a place that had private parking or a garage. A spot finally became free about a block and half away from her place. She parked and locked her Maserati Ghibli, a gift to herself after her first successful year, and headed towards her building.
As she rounded the corner, she heard voices and music and knew that the cause of the jam-packed street was because someone was having a party. The closer she got to her condo, the louder the sound became. When Mercedes reached the path that led to the building's front door, she could tell that the party was raging in her building.
"Great," she said to herself sarcastically.
All she wanted to do was drink a glass of wine or two and pass out. But she feared that the thumping and raised voices coming from below would probably keep her up all night. And it did.
Mercedes made her way downstairs the next afternoon, on her way out to meet up with her friends for their regularly scheduled Saturday lunch. Just as she reached the first floor landing, her neighbor's door opened.
It was her neighbor's sister that she'd met at his housewarming party. Mercedes had seen her a few times in passing over the last two years. Especially since her brother's friend, Jake continued to try and talk her up, but she wasn't interested in sleeping with any of her neighbors or her neighbor's friends. That would give the man thoughts that easy access meant repeat performances. She was not into relationships, and the more she was according to Jake playing hard to get, the more he was intent on pursuing her. Even though she questioned her neighbor, Mason's tastes in friends and partying so much, his sister always seemed like a cool chick, but Mercedes had her circle and didn't need to add more.
"Hey, Mercedes!" She said, easily remembering her name.
"Hey, Madison. How are you? It sounds like you guys partied hard last night. I would know. It took me forever to get to sleep over the music." Mercedes grinned good-naturedly.
Madison cringed, "I'm so sorry!"
"Don't worry about it. I put in some earbuds and listened to the soothing sounds of the ocean to try to drown you guys out." She winked.
"Good." She placed a hand on Mercedes's arm. "Oh, by the way, I have a message for you from some of my friends."
Madison backed up and started bowing with her hands out.
"We're not worthy. We're not worthy."
Mercedes scrunched up her face in confusion.
"You've done a number on Jake and my friends are loving every minute of it. Some of the ones he's screwed over in the past were here last night and they saw how pitiful he looked when you walked past him as he was obviously trying to get your attention last night!" Madison finished with a happy sigh.
"Uh…glad I could help." Mercedes said awkwardly.
Mercedes vaguely remembered Madison saying something about how much of an ass he was to her friends when they'd met a couple of months ago.
"Sorry, I'm not trying to make you feel weird. You just have no idea how arrogant he is when it comes to women and how much of a player he is. For him to have found someone who is his match or quite honestly so far out of his league that even Don Juan Puckerman himself couldn't tell his dick from his asshole is the most amazing thing to behold." Madison looked up at Mercedes as if she'd hung the moon.
"Well, there will always be someone who can play the game better than you. Plus, it's always fun to knock these arrogant men down a peg or two." Mercedes winked conspiratorially.
"You're our hero. Let us know if you ever hold classes. We'd sign up in a heartbeat. Anyway, I didn't mean to hold you up. I just thought you should know."
"Don't worry about it."
They both walked outside. Madison waved goodbye as she headed to her car parked out front, where Mercedes normally parked. Mercedes nodded and started the trek to her car.
"Come on, Mercedes. Don't be a party-pooper." Tina scolded. "I need to be a little more proactive, if I'm gonna find myself a man. And that goes for you too."
"Who said that I needed or wanted a man? Surely not me."
"But you did say you'd be open to the possibilities." Kurt reminded her.
"Or at the very least be the supportive wingwoman. So, even if you aren't looking for a man, I am. And I don't want to go alone."
"What is your idea, Tina? I will go, even though I have Blaine." Kurt chimed in agreeably.
"Thank you, Kurt. I wish Santana was back from her tour. Since she met and got engaged to Dani the two of them have been away touring, acting, or just being famous" Tina continued."So, I heard that there's this popular cooking class that everyone in the city has been going to. I found it online, saw that there were only a few spots left, and took the initiative to sign us up. It could definitely be an opportunity to meet men.
"Plus," Tina said quickly before they could come up with excuses. "Apparently the chef, Sam Evans, who teaches the class is the best chef in the city, if not all of California. And I hear he's really hot. How can we go wrong? Learn some new recipes, have eye candy to look at as we learn, and possibly meet some cuties who are trying to learn how to cook."
"Hey!" Kurt said brightly. "I know him! Blaine wants no expense spared for the wedding, so he hired Sam to cater the wedding. I'd heard he does cooking classes too. Maybe, I can learn some new things to cook for Blaine!" Kurt clapped his hands together.
"Don't look at me like that," he waved them away.
"But you're just so darn cute," Tina teased.
"Do you see that look?" Mercedes reached over to clutch Kurt's chin and turned his face from side to side. "I don't believe I have it in me to have this face again. This face died a long time ago."
Mercedes was referring to the look of love written all over Kurt. She knew she would've been a hell of a lot better off if Shane had just cheated on her with some random woman. She would have possibly been able to come back from that. To love again. But she could remember the look of pure evil and hatred on his face at the police station, and when she gave her testimony in court when he was on trial. A look that was so different from the looks of love and adoration he'd given her when they were kids. A real-life Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. To know she'd lain next to a pedophile, a rapist, a man who sold children for all those years without suspecting a thing.
How would she ever be able to believe anything a man said again? No. For her, men were only good for one thing screwing and then dropping like a bad habit.
"You'll find it again, Mercedes. Not all men lead double lives. There are some good ones out there that are not gay;. Somewhere." Tina reached across the table and clasped Mercedes's hand.
Mercedes wasn't sure if Tina was trying to convince her or herself. Either way, she didn't feel comfortable with the pity she saw in her friend's eyes.
"Yeah, name two even if they are gay besides, Blaine and Kurt."
"You don't know every man, Mercedes Marie Jones. And I happen to know both of Tina's exes as well as you do, and yes they had some domineering ways, but Mike and Artie are good men. Just not the right man for our Tinabelle."
She shook off her morose mood and turned to Tina.
"So, when do these classes start and for how long? I may not be able to find love, but I really do enjoy helping my friends find theirs." It will have to be enough for me.
"Thursday nights, from 6 to 8. And it's a 4-week course." Tina read them the information from her phone.
"That means, no Thursday night workouts?" Kurt asked.
They tried not to laugh at Kurt's sad face. They had been working out at Blaine's gym for the past two years. After a day at work, Kurt enjoyed watching Blaine from across the room as they worked out. They basically had eye sex with each other until they were able to go home for the night and actually do it.
"Dude. You do realize you live with him, right?" Tina teased him. "It's only two hours."
"I know." Kurt smiled dreamily.
"He's no good to us anymore," Tina said.
"Yeah, he worships at the altar of Blaine's abs and curly fro."
"Oh, whatever. You guys suck!"
"Why, yes. Yes, I do. And very well, I might add." Mercedes smirked.
They all rolled their eyes and giggled like prepubescent schoolgirls.
"I know. You taught me well, best friend. Blaine thanks you." Kurt bowed his head respectfully.
Their giggles turned into full blown hysterics. Their antics also turned the heads of quite a few patrons in the restaurant, but they ignored them.