Thanks again for continuing to support this crazy story. Please forgive all mistakes...

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 Six

June 10, 2023

The following weekend, it was one of those cool last days of spring, so Mercedes opted to dress for the weather and kept it relatively conservative to meet the young impressionable girl she'd be mentoring. She chose her acid wash jeggings, white wedge sneakers, and fitted white tank top which she threw a light-washed denim jacket over it. She pulled her still straightened hair back into a mid-high ponytail with silver earrings on her ears. She kept her eye makeup fairly subtle and only wore her favorite lip gloss in lieu of lipstick.

She wanted to look like the young professional that a young girl would aspire to be not an old stodgy adult. Looking in the mirror, Mercedes felt like she'd accomplished that. Because of her height and good black don't crack skin, she was carded when she didn't dress up and put her make up on. She and her friends could easily pass as a college student still not that she would want to, but it did boost her ego when no one guessed she was in early thirties unless she told a person. She thought her youthful appearance helped when she first met a new mentee. It put them at ease especially if they had been abused by an adult.

Along with the information on when they'd hold the meet and greet, Second Chances also sent over information on Mercedes's new charge. Her name was Chelsea and she was fifteen-years-old. Her mother had died of breast cancer, and her parents hadn't been together at the time, and she'd been living with her father shortly after her mother died. Apparently, Chelsea had been giving her father hell ever since. She was doing poorly in school, she refused to listen to her father, and was coming and going from home at all hours of the night.

Basically, she sounded a little like Mercedes before she met Shane. Although it wasn't because she lacked a parent. Her behavior had more to do with how strict her parents were. They didn't want her hanging out with Tina, Kurt, and Santana at all, so she had to sneak out to do so. She had resented their rules and rebelled. She didn't do poorly in school, but she did come and go whenever she felt like it. Until Shane had come into her life and he'd been studious, popular, and made her feel like she was the only girl in the world. How he'd fooled her. The mask he wore to hide the devil behind it. But as much as she hated him now, he'd made a difference in her life. She would have tried to run away to California much sooner and become a singer than waiting until she was of age and having a back up plan like college in case she decided to not pursue music. He'd made her want to be a better person. Do better.

Now, it was her turn to change lives. So, she pressed a hand to her nervous stomach, took a deep breath, grabbed her purse and headed out of her condo.

The Meet-n-Greet luncheon was being held in an arcade/pizza-type place, so that the children would feel more at ease. The schedule consisted of the mentors and children getting to know each other one-on-one over games for an hour and then lunch with the kids and their parents. Most single parents wanted to know who their children were going to be spending their Saturday or Sunday afternoons with almost every week. So, it was just as important to meet them as it was to meet the kids.

Mercedes walked inside the bright and colorful arcade. A hostess walked forward to greet her.

"Hi, I'm here for the Second Chances luncheon."

"Follow me."

Mercedes trailed behind the girl as she led her into the banquet room where the lunch would take place in an hour. The foundation coordinator smiled brightly as the hostess handed Mercedes off.

"Mercedes, it's great to see you." Carmen said as she turned and waved over a young girl. "Mercedes, I'd like you to meet Chelsea Davis. Chelsea, this is Mercedes Jones, your mentor.

The young girl was stunning and awkward and unsure of herself and completely lovely. Although she didn't know it yet.

"Hi, Chelsea. It's nice to meet you." Mercedes held out her hand to the girl.

Chelsea took it reluctantly. It was obvious that the girl was not a willing participant.

"Hi," she said quietly.

"Come on, let's go play some games."

Mercedes walked out of the banquet room as Chelsea followed reluctantly. She got a game card with a twenty-dollar credit, courtesy of Second Chances.

"What would you like to play first?" She asked Chelsea.

"I don't know. Whatever." Chelsea responded without looking at her.

"I've always loved race car games. Let's play one of those."

"This is so stupid. Why do you even want to be here?" The girl grumbled.

Mercedes wasn't one to sugarcoat things and she wasn't about to start now. She didn't care how old the girl was. Sometimes kids needed to hear hard truths. Mercedes dropped her professional voice, and spoke to the teen on her level.

"Because there are young girls like you with no one to look up to. Girls who run the streets with God knows who, trying to act grown and getting snatched up, sold into sex slavery by men who will use and abuse you and leave you in the gutter hooked on heroin and eventually dead. I've seen it firsthand and could've saved girls just like you if I had paid attention sooner. Society rarely cares if little Black and Brown girls go missing and never come home. But I do. Nobody else may tell you the truth but I will. And what you're doing ain't nothing new, girl. Been there, done that. Have wrote several songs about it." Mercedes gave her a pointed look before changing subjects. "Now, do you want to play or not?"

The teen blinked up at her in surprise with a healthy dose of respect. She nodded.

"Good. I'll try not to kick your ass too badly," Mercedes winked.

"You cursed." Chelsea said.

"I sure did."

"Adults aren't supposed to curse in front of kids."

"I think you're old enough to handle it. Let's make a deal. If you don't go around repeating everything I say outside of us hanging out together, you can say whatever you want in front of me. Just be yourself, be honest and I'll do the same. Deal?" Mercedes held out her hand again.

This time Chelsea took it gladly.

"Deal!"

They played the race car game and Mercedes let Chelsea beat her a couple times, just to keep the camaraderie going. They moved on to Skee-ball and won enough tickets for Chelsea to get a prize. She decided on a little makeup kit.

"I can always teach you how to wear makeup properly if it's okay with your father. Hell, I can even teach you to wear makeup that looks so natural he wouldn't even know, but boosts your confidence a little." Mercedes winked at her.

"Cool." Chelsea smiled happily.

She was smiling more freely with each minute that passed.

"Why don't you go ahead and ask it?" Chelsea asked as she snuck a look up at Mercedes.

"What?" Mercedes cocked her head to the side, giving the rude question right back.

"I'm biracial. Most people want to know what I am. I am black and white." Chelsea shrugged like it didn't matter, though Mercedes knew better. "My mom was Black, and my dad is white."

"Well, I come from a diverse family like most black people living in America. I have relatives lighter than you. I'm the darkest one in my family with the kinkiest hair."

"Do you ever feel out of place? Like you don't belong?" Chelsea looked down at her feet.

"Yeah, I used to. My family used to tease me, and some of my classmates ignored or bullied me. The boy I dated in high school made me feel wanted for who I was. He turned out to be a terrible person in the end, but he was the first person to accept me for me except for my three best friends who were considered to be different as well." Mercedes took a deep breath and then smiled. "He is gone, but they are still in my life. It may take some time, but once you find your tribe, nothing matters."

"My tribe?"

"Yeah, the people who understand you. Who get you, and don't make you feel bad for it. They accept you for who you are. I found three of them when I was in school and we went to college together."

"You went to college?"

"Yeah I sure did. Depending on what you want to do when you grow up, you don't necessarily have to go to college. You could always go to a trade school. I'd never push college on anyone who doesn't truly want to go or doesn't fit their dreams because it can be expensive. But with that being said, college was an experience I'll never forget. I had the time of my life. I know adults are always saying stuff like this, but you really should start thinking about your future now. Good grades now will get you into a good college later. But if you choose to go to trade school later; you still need the discipline of getting your work done. Adulting is hard and the inflation in this world means that having a good job is a necessity now. Just saying."

"I know." Chelsea said looking down at her shoes. "What is it that you do?"

"I'm an interior designer who owns my own firm. If you want, you can always help me design a house I'm working on to see if you like it."

"Really?!"

"Absolutely! The last girl I mentored is now working for me and going to school to become an interior designer, too."

"That's awesome!"

"Hey, you two." Carmen called out as she approached them. "Lunch is starting and the parents are showing up. So, when you finish up here, come to the banquet room."

"We're ready," Mercedes said.

Mercedes gestured towards the direction of the room. She noticed that Chelsea's face had fallen into a sullen mask. She didn't know what the relationship was between the girl and her father, but she figured it wasn't good as Chelsea dragged her feet to the banquet room.

They were assigned to table 9. As they sat, Mercedes noticed how fidgety and quiet the teen was. Mercedes prayed that Chelsea's father wasn't some abusive asshole. She didn't want to start off her relationship with the teen on the wrong foot by cursing out her father.

Chelsea's eyes glanced up and then looked away in disgust. Someone spoke from behind Mercedes right as she took a sip of water from her glass.

"Forgive me for being a few minutes late." The voice said.

She nearly choked on the water and coughed slightly as the man walked around the table to greet his daughter and kiss her forehead.

He looked up with a smile and green eyes collided with hers.

"Mercedes?!"

"Sam," She'd already had a second longer to get over her shock than he had.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" he stammered.

"I could ask you the same thing."

"You know each other?" Chelsea glanced back and forth between the two of them, suspiciously.

"I…uh…met Mercedes during my last cooking class and I catered her friend's wedding." He looked back at Mercedes, still waiting for her to answer his question.

"I'm Chelsea's new mentor." Mercedes looked around the room. "Or are we here for something else?"

"Uh…yes. I'm…uh…I'm CeCe's father." He continued to stumble over his words as he took a seat next to his daughter.

"Don't call me that." Chelsea grumbled under her breath. "Only my mom called me that."

"Please forgive me, Chelsea. I meant no harm." Sam apologized.

Mercedes glanced between the father and daughter and instantly recognized the dynamic between them. The formerly estranged father was trying his best to bend over backwards to please his teenage daughter and gain her love and respect. And the daughter, still mourning her mother, resented her father for her mother's absence and was making him jump through hoops as well as using it to get away with murder.

Mercedes knew it was time for Sam to put his foot down, but she also knew it wasn't her place to tell him.

She was trying to play it cool, but Mercedes didn't know which emotion was stronger. The excitement that wanted to make her jump up and do a little happy dance, like she was Tina or something. Ecstatic that she would get multiple opportunities to run into this panty wetting man. Or intense frustration that she'd have to see him. A reminder of his rejection and a hunger that only seemed to come when he was around yet couldn't be sated because he refused to screw her brains out.

After the reception, she'd thought that she'd never see him again unless by chance. Who knew her chance would be quite so soon. If she were a romantic like Tina, she'd even say that maybe it was kismet pushing them together. Hell to the no. Mercedes gave up on fate and romance a long time ago. This was strictly about sex. Two healthy adults physically expressing their mutual passion for one another a couple of times and then moving on. That's all.

At least that's what she kept trying to convince herself as she gazed at him across the table.

He was still acting just as shy as before.

How can a man who at one point, had a lot of sex on camera for a living, be this dang shy?

Sam tried not to stare across the table at Mercedes, but his eyes kept finding a reason to wander over. She was stunning as usual. It didn't matter what she wore. She was a natural beauty and would wake up looking like the same woman he went to bed went unlike some women who contoured and did every make up trick known to man. She looked good with or without makeup. He couldn't remember a time he was more attracted and drawn to a woman. She was sexy, for sure. But there was something else. Something that made his soul move towards her, like the pull of a magnet.

It was the look in her eyes as they connected with his that made him pull back. Made him run from that magnetic pull. It was the look of pure lust. She wanted to use him for sex only. And she seemed to be the type of woman who would chew a man up and spit him out when she was done, moving on to her next victim. The chorus of Hall and Oates' song "Maneater" came to mind and it fit her to a tee.

Sam couldn't take one more failed attempt after Quinn. No matter how badly he wanted her.

But fate seemed like it had stepped in to screw him over even further. One, how was he supposed to avoid her and stay strong if he saw her every weekend? And two, learning that the sexy siren was more than meets the eye didn't help. He was already intensely attracted to her. Physically and sexually. Now, seeing her with his daughter. Acting as a mentor, or even when needed, a stand-in mother to CeCe, he feared would draw him even closer to her.

An uncomfortable silence had fallen over their table. CeCe was back to pouting. Mercedes looked at him surreptitiously with a raised brow. Sam tried to look at everything but his daughter or Mercedes.

"Alright, everyone!" Carmen, the Second Chances coordinator called out. "You all can come up and get your food. Enjoy!"

"I'm not really all that hungry. Can I go play some more games?" CeCe asked without looking at him. Her face was a picture of a teen who was 'so over it.'

Sam nodded in response. Mercedes handed CeCe the game card, and his daughter got up and disappeared into the arcade.

And then there were alone.

"So…" Sam said and blew out a breath.

He hated to admit that he couldn't relax when his daughter was in his presence. What kind of father did that make him?

"So… you have a biracial teenaged daughter."

"Yeah. And she hates me." He looked down at his hands.

"What's the story?"

"Uh…her mom was new at my…um…former job. And–"

"Sam," Mercedes cut him off, "Let's start by getting this out of the way. I know what your former job was. You don't need to pretend. We're both adults here. And there's nothing to be ashamed of. I don't judge you or others in your former career."

Sam's shoulders drooped in relief. He never knew how a person would react when they knew about his background. He'd had enough people turn their noses up in disgust to know it was best to keep his past in the past.

"Thank you." He said sincerely.

"Go on." Mercedes encouraged.

"Well…she was new to the scene. And she was gorgeous. There was an industry party. There was an instant connection between us." He smiled wryly. "And one thing led to another and Shayniece ended up pregnant. She told me and said she didn't want me to be a part of the child's life. Mainly, because after getting pregnant, she decided that the porn life path was not for her. She wanted to raise our daughter far from it. And my dad ran the studio. She didn't want her daughter to know about her past or to follow in our footsteps.

"So, I stayed out of CeC– I mean Chelsea's life out of respect of her mother's wishes. At that time I didn't think I could be anything else but my dad's successor. But I did send them money monthly. Her mom never asked for it, but I sent it anyway. She moved as far away from California as she could to a small town in Alabama called Phenix City which she said was affordable and gave her a chance to start over. She would send me pictures, videos, and like a monthly report of how Chelsea was doing until she was diagnosed with cancer. I had no idea she had been sick until right before she died. She sent me a long letter detailing what was happening and that she needed me to take Chelsea. Two years later, Chelsea still hates me. I am at my wits end." Sam said heavily. "Which is why we're here."

"Can I give you a little advice?"

"Uh…sure."

"I know I don't have any children. But I remember being a teenager and this isn't my first rodeo with mentoring. Anyway, I think it's time to stop trying to be the nice dad, letting her get away with murder to make up for her mom dying and not being there for her younger years. It's not your fault that her mom wanted her away from the pornography industry. Put your foot down. Be the asshole if you need to be. Don't always be the pushover dad. Sometimes you have to be the stern dad. You're letting her call the shots. Who's the head of the house?"

"I am."

"Then act like it."

"It's just…" Sam ran his fingers through his hair and looked up at her. There was sympathy in her eyes as well as attraction. "I don't know. She's shaken up my world. I do feel guilt and responsible for not changing my life sooner and getting to know her as a baby, toddler, and kid. I am responsible for my mistakes. I have made several. I love my daughter, and I want to do right thing. I just don't know whether I'm coming or going with her. I just want to be a good father. She means everything to me."

"From what I can tell, you are doing the right thing now. You can't change the past. Mistakes were made on both sides but instead of revisiting the past it's important to deal with the here and now. You want the best for her. It's obvious just by you signing her up for Second Chances. You took her in when you could've been a bastard and given her away, you care, and you're trying. That's a promising start to being a good dad." Mercedes reached across the table and laid a hand over his.

The innocent touch sent a charge of electricity up his arm. It must've done the same to her because they both flinched back quickly.

Sam could still taste her on his tongue and feel the hot, wetness between her thighs. And just by the look in her eyes, she was remembering too.

"Plus, being a good parent doesn't mean you're nice all the time. Kids need discipline. But I'll try to work on her as well. If I can gain her trust, I'll urge her to ease up on you. How's that?" Mercedes smiled.

"Sounds good. Thank you, Mercedes. Especially after…" He let the rest of the sentence trail off.

"Especially after getting me all hot and bothered and leaving me hanging." Mercedes cocked her head to the side and gave him a sarcastically sweet fake smile.

"Yeah, that."

"I'd ask why, but this probably isn't the appropriate place for that particular conversation," Mercedes said.

Sam glanced around to make sure no one was in earshot of them before speaking.

"I'm very attracted to you, Mercedes. You're a very sexy and charismatic woman. But after Chelsea came into my life, I'm not interested in casual sex anymore. And I can tell that's all you want. I've left that lifestyle behind. I want…more. I won't settle for less." Sam said firmly.

"Hmm…" Mercedes hummed thoughtfully. "I understand. It's unfortunate, but I understand. I, on the other hand, don't want commitment. I'm not looking for a boyfriend or husband. I like my life just as it is. Virtually drama-free."

"Who said a relationship equals drama?" Sam asked.

"In my experience, it somehow always ends up messy." Mercedes shrugged.

"So, your friend that just got married."

"Yes? What about him?"

"Is his relationship messy?"

"When they were younger, yeah, but when they got back together as adults it's been beautiful, actually."

"And are any of your other friends married or in a relationship?"

"One other one is."

"And?"

"And their relationship is wonderful too. At least once they got it together. But they are all in same sex relationships, and try as hard as I have, I am not attracted to women."

"Even though they are in same sex relationships, you have examples of how relationships aren't filled with drama?"

"Yes, but–"

"But what?" He cut her off.

"But that can change in a split second. Your life could be just fine. And then…BOOM! Your whole life can be blown up. There's no guarantee. Especially, when there's more than one person involved. You only have control over yourself. You can't control what your partner feels, says, or does. So, I will never relinquish control over my life again."

"Humans need companionship. Sometimes you just have to trust."

"Nope, I'm good." Mercedes shook her head. "My trust, when it comes to committed relationships, was irrevocably broken a while back. I've got my friends and that's all I need."

"What happens when they're all married with kids?"

"I become the rich aunt who spoils their babies."

"Well, you seem to have it all figured out."

"I do."

"Hmm…" Sam hummed thoughtfully, like she had earlier.

Whoever hurt her, really messed her up.

"It is a shame, though." Mercedes eye-sexed him from across the table. "It could've been fun."

"Indeed."

Just then Chelsea walked back up to the table and plopped down as if she was so exhausted.

"I ran out of money on the card."

"How about we eat?" Mercedes suggested.

"I'm not that hungry." Chelsea insisted.

"You're not that hungry or you don't want to gain weight?" Mercedes said knowingly.

Chelsea remained quiet. It was all the answer both adults at the table needed.

"Let me tell you something. There will always be someone hotter than you. Prettier than you. A better body. And you will spend your life trying to starve yourself to fit a standard that was not made for the body you were born with. And all you'll be is miserable and hungry with a banging body to attract dudes who aren't even worth your time. You have curves. Curves that people are paying money for. So, eat and enjoy your life. Just make sure you eat more good stuff than bad and exercise, and you should be fine. Now, let's get something to eat." Mercedes finished and stood up.

CeCe watched as the woman with the brickhouse body stood up and sashayed her way to the tables loaded with food. Her womanly hips swaying from side to side. Her eyes darted to the other men in the room. Sam's eyes followed as well. Every man in the room was either blatantly or subtly staring at Mercedes. Or more accurately, staring at her generous ass.

Sam watched as his daughter did what she was told. She got up and went over to get a plate of food. And not just enough for a baby bird to eat, like she normally did which broke his heart as a chef. But she grabbed a few slices of pizza along with a salad and came back to the table with Mercedes. A rare smile on her face as Mercedes nudged her with a rounded hip.

Who would have guessed this? Sam thought.

He looked at Mercedes as she sat. She gave him a conspiratorial wink. He smiled back. But secretly he was struck silent. In a matter of an hour or so, Mercedes had managed to get his daughter to listen and smile.

She was an extraordinary woman.

Yeah, an extraordinary woman who is also broken, and wouldn't give you the time of day, unless it's to ride your cock.

"Hmm…" Sam hummed under his breath and mentally rubbed his chin in thought.

We shall see about that.