Enjoy! If you guys tell me which you want me to update next from these, I will! While I am working on the others!

Lawyer and Chef

Mercedes sat at the kitchen table, meticulously scanning through the pile of loan paperwork while Mary set down a tray of lemonade and cookies. The warm scent of freshly baked treats filled the room, but the atmosphere remained tense. Dwight sat across from Mercedes, his hands clasped together tightly as he watched her work.

"I'll be honest with you, Mr. Evans," Mercedes said, her voice calm yet firm. "These terms are predatory. It's no wonder they're causing issues. But don't worry—this is fixable."

Dwight exhaled deeply, his head lowering. "I should've known better," he muttered. "I didn't fully understand what I was signing, but they made it sound like it was the only way to get what we needed for the farm. If I've screwed over my family—" His voice cracked, and he clenched his fists. "I'll never forgive myself."

Mercedes reached across the table, gently placing her hand over his. "This isn't your fault," she said, her tone resolute. "These people prey on hardworking families like yours, and I'm going to make sure they don't get away with it. I promise you, Mr. Evans—I'll fix this."

Before Dwight could respond, Mercedes' phone buzzed on the table. Glancing at the screen, she saw Sebastian's name. "Excuse me for a moment," she said, gathering the documents. "Mr. Evans, may I use your office to take this call?"

"Of course," Dwight replied, motioning toward the hallway. "It's the first door on the left."

As soon as Mercedes disappeared down the hall, Mary turned to Sam, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "She's sweet," she said. "And beautiful."

Sam groaned, slumping back in his chair. "No, Mom. Don't even start. She's here to help us, nothing more."

"What a shame," Mary said with a wistful sigh. "She's perfect for you."

Dwight nodded in agreement. "Smart, kind, and she doesn't seem intimidated by you. That's a rare find, son."

Sam rolled his eyes, but Stevie chimed in with a wide grin before he could respond. "If Sam won't make a move, I will. She's a twenty out of ten, and Sam's a fool if he doesn't at least take her to dinner."

"Cut it out," Sam muttered, running a hand through his hair. But his cheeks betrayed him, tinged with a faint blush.

Mary chuckled, giving her son a knowing look. "You can deny it all you want, but I see the way you look at her. Just don't let a good thing pass you by, Sam."

Mercedes reentered the kitchen, her heels clicking softly against the hardwood floor. She returned the documents on the table and took a deep breath before addressing the Evans family. "I have good news," she began, her calm demeanor immediately drawing their attention.

Everyone leaned in, anticipation thick in the air.

"It's exactly what I suspected," Mercedes said. "The terms they set in this loan were not only unreasonable but downright unrealistic. What these lenders do is trap you in agreements you can't possibly meet. Once you fall behind, they threaten you with either paying up or losing your property entirely."

The room erupted into a collective "Well, hell, and dammits." with Dwight shaking his head in disbelief and Mary covering her mouth in shock.

"It's infuriating," Dwight muttered. "They're preying on people who work hard just to keep their families afloat. It should be illegal! This has to stop!"

Mercedes nodded, her expression serious but determined. "I know it's upsetting, but here's the good news. I just got off the phone with one of my partners at the firm. He specializes in property law, and together, we're going to take care of this for good. Not only can we get them off your back, but we'll also ensure they can't pull this on you—or anyone else in this area—again."

Mary clasped her hands together, her voice trembling with gratitude. "You mean… you can really stop them?"

"Yes," Mercedes said with certainty. "I just need to pay a visit to the loan officer at the bank and have a little… conversation. If they're smart, they'll see reason."

Dwight looked at her, his brows furrowed. "What they did—was it illegal? Right?"

Mercedes gave a small, thoughtful nod. "It's complicated. What they've done is operate in a gray area of the law. Technically, it's legal, but their methods are unethical, and they don't expect anyone to push back. That's where I come in."

Sam, who had been listening intently, straightened in his chair. Mercedes met his eyes. "If you can drive me to the bank," she said, "I can have this resolved in less than an hour."

Mary, unable to contain her emotions, stood up and wrapped Mercedes in a tight hug. "Thank you," she said, her voice thick with tears. "You have no idea what this means to us."

Mercedes patted her back gently, offering a reassuring smile. "I'm happy to help. Your family doesn't deserve this."

"I am coming with you," Dwight said as he stood.

Sam pushed back his chair and stood, grabbing his keys. "Alright," he said, his voice steady but with a flicker of admiration in his tone. "Let's go finish this."

Mercedes grabbed her bag and smiled at the family. "I'll update you as soon as we're back. Don't worry—we've got this."

The drive to the bank was quiet, save for the occasional "Uh huh" from Mercedes as she spoke to Sebastian. Sam sat in the driver's seat, glancing occasionally at her, both impressed and a little in awe of how meticulously she reviewed the documents. In the backseat, Dwight Evans sat stoically, his sharp eyes taking in everything while his jaw remained tight with restrained anger.

Once Mercedes hung up and placed the files back in her bag, she looked out the window. Sam, trying to distract himself from the tension in the truck, cleared his throat. "So, does Sebastian own the law firm?" he asked casually.

Mercedes smiled. "Yes and no. He's a partner. His dad started the firm with his grandfather, and when his grandfather retired, Sebastian became a partner. I met him at Yale, and we graduated together. About five years ago, I was in Maryland, and he called and offered me a chance to do some real good. I jumped at it, and after three years, they named me the third partner."

"You didn't have a family?" Dwight asked.

Mercedes shook her head. "It's just me. I grew up in the foster system, and when I aged out, I lived in a shelter until it was time for College."

Sam looked over at her before turning back to the road. "How old were you?"

"I aged out at 17, which, considering the places I lived, was a step up. The shelter wasn't so bad. I knew the owner, so I always had a room, and it had a lock on the door." She shook it off. "Sorry, I just mean, I didn't have family. I went to Maryland because I was a headhunter by a firm, but they were intimidated by me, and I wasn't going anywhere, so when Bas called me, I jumped at the chance."

"So it's Smythe, Smythe, and Jones?" Sam asked, his curiosity piqued. "Is that why that guy gave you a hard time earlier this week?"

Mercedes laughed. "Yeah, Biff was in line to become partner based on seniority, but I outshined him. They chose me instead."

Dwight's gravelly voice broke the momentary silence. "A well-deserved promotion, Ms. Jones. Don't let anyone judge you because of where you come from."

"Well, thank you, Mr. Evans, but only Sebastian and his dad know. Well, now you two do," Mercedes replied, a respectful yet confident tone in her tone.

"I tell you all of this," she continued, turning to Sam, "To let you know your family is in good hands. I promise."

"I know, we are," Sam said, giving her a small smile. "Are you nervous?"

Mercedes's lips curved into a sly smile as they pulled into the parking lot of the small-town bank. "Sam, I'm about to ruin a man's day. Nervous doesn't even cross my mind."

Dwight let out a soft, approving chuckle as they exited the truck.

Inside, the bank had a polished but dated look, with beige walls, gray carpets, and the faint hum of fluorescent lights. A receptionist looked up, startled, as the trio strode purposefully toward her.

"We're here to speak with Howard Figgins," Mercedes said, her tone firm but polite.

The receptionist hesitated. "Mr. Figgins is in a meeting—"

Mercedes raised an eyebrow, and the receptionist faltered under her gaze. "Let him know that Mercedes Jones, partner at Smythe, Smythe, and Jones, is here to discuss the Evans loan. I suggest he makes time."

Dwight stepped forward, his imposing presence making the receptionist shrink back. "Tell him it's not a request," he added, his voice low and commanding.

The receptionist stammered out a response, but before she could leave, a door down the hall opened. Howard Figgins, a short, balding man in a cheap suit, stepped out, looking irritated. His expression shifted to alarm when he saw Sam and Dwight.

"Mr. Evans," Figgins said, his voice thin and wary. "I wasn't expecting you today."

Mercedes stepped forward, her heels clicking against the tile, drawing his attention. "I'm the one you weren't expecting," she said coolly, extending a hand. "Mercedes Jones. I represent the Evans family."

Figgins blinked at her, clearly taken aback. "Uh… yes. Well, this isn't a good time—"

Mercedes cut him off with a pointed look. "It's a perfect time. Let's talk in your office."

Figgins hesitated, glancing nervously between the three of them before reluctantly leading them to his cramped office. Once inside, Mercedes wasted no time spreading out the documents on his desk.

"You approved this loan," she began icily, tapping the papers. "You knew the terms were predatory. You knew the Evans family wouldn't be able to keep up with the payments, and you counted on that."

Figgins paled, his hands fidgeting nervously. "I don't know what you're talking about. This was a standard loan—"

"Spare me," Mercedes snapped, her tone sharp enough to make Figgins flinch. "You operate on the assumption that families like the Evanses don't have the resources to fight back. You manipulate their trust, bury them in fine print, and then swoop in to snatch up their property when they fall behind. It's not only unethical—it's disgusting."

Dwight leaned forward, his hands resting heavily on the desk. "I trusted you," he said, his voice rumbling with restrained fury. "My family trusted you. That trust ends today."

Figgins shifted in his seat, his face beading with sweat. "Mr. Evans, everything was done according to policy—"

"And your policy," Mercedes interrupted, "is going to land you in legal and financial ruin if you don't fix this. Here's how this will go: You're going to void this loan and return every dollar the Evans family has paid in interest. In exchange, I'll keep this conversation between us. But if I find out you've tried this with anyone else, I will make sure your name becomes synonymous with corruption in every legal and financial circle in this state."

Figgins swallowed hard, his composure unraveling. "There's no need for that. I-I'm sure we can work something out."

Mercedes handed him a piece of paper, and Sam noticed it said fifteen thousand dollars on it. "This is what the Evans are owed; it's the overpayment of interest and my fee."

"This is Ludacris!" Figgins started, but Mercedes's look had him cowering in his seat. "Fine!"

"Good," Mercedes said, her voice like steel. I'll have my partner send the paperwork today, and you better sign it tonight. Don't even think about backing out—because I don't bluff. Once it's signed, tomorrow I expect you to hand deliver the check to Evans. Let's say by 2 p.m."

"What!"

"You sent someone there to intimidate them; I am sure you can send someone with the check. Now, I am going to keep this paperwork and the report I am going to write; if anything goes wrong, this goes public."

Dwight straightened, giving Figgins one last withering glare. "You messed with the wrong family," he said coldly.

As they left the office, Sam glanced back at Figgins, who looked ready to collapse. Once outside, he turned to Mercedes. "Remind me to never make you mad."

Mercedes laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Don't worry, Evans. You're on my good side—for now."

Dwight nodded approvingly. "You're more than worth every penny you charge, Ms. Jones. I think I speak for my family when I say we couldn't ask for a better ally."

Mercedes smiled. "You asked me to deliver results. And that's exactly what I'll do."

The Evans family farmhouse was warm and bustling with activity as Sam and Dwight recounted their trip to the bank. Mary Evans stood at the counter, her hands frozen over the pie dough she had been rolling out, listening in awe as Sam animatedly described Mercedes' unyielding confidence.

"I'm telling you, Mom," Sam said, leaning against the kitchen island, his arms crossed. "She walked in there like she owned the place. Figgins didn't stand a chance. The man was sweating bullets within two minutes."

Sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of iced tea, Dwight nodded in agreement. "I've dealt with a lot of people in my life, but I've never seen anyone handle a situation like that. She's a force of nature."

Mary put a hand to her chest, her expression equal parts astonished and grateful. "Well, thank the Lord for sending her our way. I don't know how we would've managed without her."

Mercedes, who had been sitting quietly on the couch texting with Sebastian in the adjacent living room, smirked and shook her head. "It wasn't that dramatic," she called over, standing to join them in the kitchen.

"Not that dramatic?" Sam turned to her, raising an eyebrow. "You just made that man void the entire loan, pay back the interest, and cover our lawyer fees—even though you're not charging us. I saw the paper you gave him. You told him fifteen thousand dollars! I think that qualifies as dramatic."

Mary gasped, her eyes widening. "Fifteen thousand dollars?" she repeated, almost dropping the rolling pin. "Are you serious?"

Mercedes shrugged casually, though a small smile played on her lips. "It's closer to ten thousand in interest payments, but I added a clause to cover your legal fees—hypothetically, of course. And since I'm not charging you, that's an extra five thousand coming your way. I was just texting with Sebastian. Figgins signed off on everything. Tomorrow, the check will be her, and it's a done deal."

Dwight let out a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. "You mean to tell me we've been paying that loan for ten years, and we're finally getting something back?"

"Exactly," Mercedes said, folding her arms. "My only advice is to find a new bank. I doubt this one will be too friendly after today."

Mary's eyes filled with tears as she rushed over to Mercedes, pulling her into a heartfelt hug. "Thank you, child. I don't even know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything, Mrs. Evans," Mercedes said, patting her back gently. "I'm just glad I could help."

Mary pulled back, dabbing at her eyes with the corner of her apron. "Well, you're not getting away without letting me thank you properly. I'm cooking dinner, and you're staying. No arguments."

Mercedes opened her mouth to protest, but Sam grinned and cut her off. "You can't say no, Mercedes. She won't take it for an answer. Besides, my mom not only taught me how to cook but also inspired me."

Mary nodded firmly. "He's right. You're part of the family now. So sit tight while I whip up something special."

Mercedes laughed, raising her hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. You win. I'll stay for dinner."

Dwight chuckled, taking a long sip of his tea. "Smart woman. You don't say no to Mary's cooking."

For the first time in a long time, the Evans home was filled with a sense of hope and gratitude, and Mercedes couldn't help but feel like she had found a place where she truly belonged.

While watching the horses graze in the field, Mercedes found herself being gently pulled away by Sam. "Come on," he said with a grin, "let me show you around the place."

She followed him through the house, taking in the well-loved furniture, the family photos on the walls, and the cozy charm of a home that had seen years of laughter and love. Sam pointed out little details—the scratch marks on the doorframe where he and his siblings had measured their heights, the fireplace they'd gather around during winter, and the spot in the hallway where he had accidentally broken a vase as a kid.

Eventually, they reached his room, and Sam hesitated for a moment before pushing the door open. "And… this is my room, or my old room I sleep in when I come home," he said, a hint of shyness in his voice.

Mercedes stepped inside, her eyes sweeping over the space. It was exactly what she'd expect: simple but distinctly Sam. A well-worn guitar leaned against the wall next to a small bookshelf filled with cookbooks, novels, and baseball memorabilia. Posters of athletes and a few movie posters adorned the walls, and the bed was neatly made.

"You're surprisingly tidy," she teased, running a finger along the edge of the desk. "I pegged you for a 'clothes on the floor' kind of guy."

Sam laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, well, you caught me on a good day."

Her gaze landed on a framed photo on his nightstand. It was of him with his parents and siblings, all smiling brightly. She picked it up, studying the happy faces. "You've got a beautiful family," she said softly.

"They're the best," he replied, his voice quieter now. He watched her as she set the photo back down, his chest tightening with an emotion he couldn't quite name. The way the evening sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm glow around her, made her look almost ethereal.

"Thank you, Mercedes," he said suddenly, the words spilling out before he could stop them. "For everything you've done for my family. For me."

Mercedes turned to face him, her expression soft. "You don't have to thank me, Sam. I'm just doing my job."

"No," he said, stepping closer. "It's more than that. You didn't have to go above and beyond for us, but you did. You were at court and could have pawned me off on someone else, but you didn't. You care. And it means more than I can say."

They were standing so close now that she could see the flecks of gold in his green eyes and could feel the warmth radiating from him. Her breath hitched as his gaze dropped to her lips, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still.

"Sam…" she began, her voice barely above a whisper, but whatever she was going to say was lost as he leaned in and kissed her.

It was soft at first, tentative as if he was afraid she might pull away. But when she didn't, it fueled something in him. Sam deepened the kiss as she leaned into him, her hand coming up to rest on his chest.

It was like the culmination of every unspoken word, every shared glance, every moment of unacknowledged tension between them.

Sam's hands gently gripped her side as her hands moved from his chest and around his neck; the once soft kiss was now passionate and needy.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless. Sam searched her face, his heart pounding. "I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I shouldn't have—"

Mercedes shook her head, her fingers still lightly clutching his shirt. "Don't apologize," she said, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. "But… we should probably get back before your mom starts wondering where we are."

Sam nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah. You're probably right."

As they left the room and headed back to the kitchen, the air between them was charged with an undeniable electricity. And though neither of them said it, they knew that something between them had shifted—something neither could ignore.