Due to many MANY MAAANY requests for me to continue, I’ve had to kinda push some stuff to the side and let this one get written. Before you read this, I want you guys to know that this is only part one of chapter three. It was so long that I had to break it up into two parts. If you’re a little confused by what’s going on, rest assured, all your questions will probably be answered by part two. I hope you like it. xoxo :) P.S. I like Part two more than this, so if this seems too thin and dull, just know that part two is far more exciting.
“Are you dead?”
The leather clad figure shuddered and pulled his knees into his chest.
“I brought you coffee. Don’t worry. I didn’t poison it…or spit in it. Cream and two sugars right?”
He groaned and I shrugged dismissively.
“If you don’t want it, I’ll just drink it. I already have my Black Tea, but-”
“Fuck you,” he croaked, “Fuck you with a rusty pipe, Jones.”
The warm Nevada sunshine beat down on my pouting face and I shook my head in disapproval.
“That’s not very nice, Samuel. How can you say that when I’ve brought you coffee? I even called your fiancée to join us. Or at least…she would be your fiancée if the ring wasn‘t about 200 feet below us being crushed by traffic.”
He bolted upright, suddenly, and I snorted at how scared he was. The night before, I’d spent the night in Sam’s room, calling up his friends and asking about his girlfriend. The horny bastards honestly believed that the future CEO wanted to have a threesome with a hooker and his girlfriend. When I finally got in contact with her, there was something about her voice that was very familiar. I couldn’t quite place where I’d heard it, but it made me all the more excited about meeting her.
As I watched Sam stumble into the hotel room from the balcony, and collapse on the king sized bed, I bit back a grin at how miserable he looked.
“Are you sure you don’t want your coffee, Sammy?”
He mumbled more expletives into the plush, white pillow, and I rolled my eyes.
“Okay, fine. Look disheveled in front of your woman. I don’t care.”
Sitting in the armchair near the door, I filed my nails as I waited for the tell-tale knock on the door. After some time, Sam rolled over on his back and groaned.
“Why are you doing this to me?” His voice was raspy and tired, “What did I do to deserve this?”
I yawned and took another sip from my now warm tea, “Nobody has time for your victimization, Evans.”
“I am really curious to know.”
“Maybe I just enjoy fucking with you,” crossing my legs, I sat my tea on the coffee table and rested my hands in my lap, “I think six years worth of retaliation would suffice.”
“You’re a psycho-”
I shrugged and examined the ends of my hair, “And right now I’m irritated. Stop talking.”
We fell silent and he ran another hand through his hair anxiously.
“Why couldn’t you just keep, Lucy out of it?” he shot me a doe eyed look and wiped his face with his hands, “Why? She’s my entire world-”
I hummed over his bitching and shrugged, “I guess my sympathy for you was tossed over the balcony with your money and ring.” Examining my shoes, I added, “You‘re lucky, I should‘ve called your dear old daddy-kins. I‘m sure he‘d love to hear all about how his almost-CEO son was caught in a sex scandal with a high class escort. I‘m sure Lucy would definitely stay with you then.”
He clenched his fists threateningly and jumped to his feet.
He growled, “Are you fucking blackmailing me, bitch?”
“I’m sorry, are you going to hit me?” I tilted my head to one side inquisitively, “Please. Be my guest. I’ve taken quite a few punches in my time. But trust me, I won’t hesitate to beat the shit out of you right here in his room. So please, do it, Evans. I won’t even have to take my heels off.”
Staring at me for a beat longer, Sam slumped back down on the bed.
“Fucking whore.” He spat.
My cellphone vibrated in my bra, and I smiled as the name flashed on the screen.
“Hey,” I answered, “I missed you.”
“Where have you been, baby girl?” Q replied, “I’ve missed those lips.”
My eyes flickered over to Sam’s discombobulated figure, and I chuckled.
“Oh, just handling business.”
There was the squeak of a rolling chair and the shuffling of papers at the end of the line.
“When are you going to come handle my business, Mercy?”
“When I’m finished handling this business, baby.”
“What’s wrong?” He asked me, his voice taking on an edge that made me squeeze my legs together, “Anything you need me to handle?”
“Nope. I’ve got everything under control.”
Sam coughed into a tissue, hard, and tossed it into the nearby wastebasket.
“I’ve got to go, I think my client is dying.”
There was an open silence in the conversation, and I raised an eyebrow.
“You there, Q?”
He sighed and I immediately knew where the conversation was going. I crossed my legs under me in the armchair and played with the hem of my dress.
He said, “Have you been thinking about it?”
Biting on the corner of my mouth, I tried not to smile and I flicked some invisible lint from my leg.
“Mercy,” he whined. He was so cute when he begged.
“It’s either yes or no.”
His deep sexy chuckle reverberated throughout my body and I exhaled sharply.
There was suddenly a knock on the door and I popped up from my seat just as Sam rolled onto his stomach and let out an angry groan.
“Oh shut up, you brought this on yourself,” I spat.
“Baby can we talk about this later? We can talk over coffee and the little scones I make that you love so much. Okay? I promise!”
I hopped to my feet just as Q agreed and we hung up. Q’s question echoed in my head. When I told him that night that you can’t turn a ho into a housewife, he became really angry with me and told me not to call myself a ho. It was something that threw me off, because he’d never cared about what I called myself up until a very intimate evening we had a few months prior.
“You know, if you already have a boyfriend,” Sam interrupted my thoughts with his scratchy voice and angry glare, “why are you still here? Shouldn’t you be off making his life hell and leaving me alone?”
The knocks on the door grew more anxious and I rolled my eyes. These women were so thirsty for anyone with a monthly six figure income.
“Remember? Mercy gets a kick out of fucking with you, Sam,” I responded calmly, smoothing out the leopard print dress that I bought with Sam’s credit card, “Don’t act so surprised.”
Rolling his eyes and taking a deep breath, he opened the door a crack and painted a fake smile on.
“Hey…Lucy,” his voice cracked and I bit back laughter.
There was a brief sound of movement on the other side, and a sigh.
“Let me in, I want to see her.”
I raised my eyebrows and propped my hands on my hips. Was she looking for a fight? Because Sam Evans was hardly worth fighting over.
“Lucy, baby, maybe we should go outside-”
He immediately shut up and backed away from the doorway, giving me a full view of the blonde woman on the other side. We stared at each other for a moment, and recognition kicked in.
“Quinn?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows.
“Mercy,” her bottom lip trembled and she smiled widely.
Sam cut his eyes at me and opened his mouth to question our immediate reactions to seeing one another. Without a beat of hesitation, Quinn strutted in and threw her arms around my neck, pulling me in for a deep kiss.