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myloveistoolittle · 1 year ago

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Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 13

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 14.5k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics* Shitty exes being shitty, anxiety, stress of confusion, attempted sabotage. A bit of dirty flirting in there for good measure. Summary: When you and Marcus stumble upon the perfect place for your engagement party, things get complicated by Sam's plans to rent the very same venue. Notes: I'm sure I missed some errors in the proofreading, but such is life. Please enjoy, my dears! Chapter photo from Monticello's website.

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12

The idea happened a bit by accident, but a few days after your goddaughter was born, once Sydney and Juan and Constance were comfortably and safely at home, Marcus had convinced you to take the last of your days off and go out to Monticello with him for some fresh air and historical tourism. The numerous tours and lunch at the café on the vast grounds are exactly the break that you need, and you're bent over the map together on the sunny grounds when you tilt your head and look up at him beside you.

"Ya know..." The idea is just a hum in the back of your throat. "I bet they're booked ages in advance to do events here...but it might be worth asking if they have an opening or a cancellation sometime soon."

"What are you thinking of having here?" He's not even arguing against the idea, just trying to get a feel for what you are starting to plan. "I don't think we can build our house here." He teases, having nearly gone cross eyed from going through house plans with you over the last two days.

"No, we're definitely not doing that." You roll your eyes playfully and nudge him. The work on the house is finally underway and now you've moved on to talking about decorating so it feels like square one of an entirely new project instead of just a new phase on a continuing one. "I was thinking it would be a hell of a place for an engagement party if they have an opening before Thanksgiving. But I doubt it."

Marcus contemplates it, looking around with his hands on his hips and hums. "I think it would be good." He agrees before glancing back at you with a smirk. "There's only one way to find out if they have any dates available." He teases. "We've got to ask."

"Gee, what a shocking idea." When you poke him in the side it comes with a giggle and you motion back at the visitor's center behind you. "Let's go see if anyone is in to chat with us about it."

Marcus snickers, wrapping his hand around your waist and tugging you closer while he snatches up the map with his free hand. "Let's go. Touring can wait."

Inside the Visitor's Center, the middle–aged woman sitting at the desk is pleasantly chatting with the last guests of a long line before turning her smile on you and Marcus. "Well hello there dears," she greets, just as pleasantly as a sunshiney summer day. "How can I help you?"

“My fiancée and I were hoping to talk to an events coordinator?” He glances back at you for confirmation at the title and when you nod, he turns and beams at her. “Is there one available, or do we need to make an appointment, Miss….” He glances at her name badge. “Amber?”

“Well certainly there is, but she is just finishing up a meeting at the moment.” Amber glances at her computer screen and back again without the smile ever leaving her face. “They should be done in just a few minutes if you’d like to wait and speak to her afterward?”

Marcus turns back to you, “do you want to wait, sweetheart?” He asks, rubbing your waist gently. Still proud as a peacock at being your fiancé.

“Why not?” There’s still a chance that there are no openings anytime soon, but waiting around for a few minutes to ask won’t hurt anything.

“Wonderful.” Amber picks up the telephone on her desk and pushes a few buttons with that everlasting smile on her face. “I’ll let her know she has someone waiting. May I have your name, sir?”

Marcus smiles as he gives your name and tries not to smirk when it’s obvious she recognizes the surname. “And Marcus Pike.”

“One moment, please.” The conversation that Amber heads into the receiver is hurried and she tries not to be terribly animated but you catch her glancing up at you once during the frazzled conversation and you smile kindly in response.

Marcus leans over and nuzzles your neck. “Hopefully she’s a political support of your mom and not firmly against her.” He teases quietly.

“Fingers crossed,” you laugh back quietly.

Marcus chuckles in your ear, holding you close as you both politely wait for the phone call to be finished.

When Amber sets down the receiver, she offers you and Marcus a warm smile and motions to a set of chairs to your side in the lobby of the Visitor's Center. "Melanie will be right with you. She will only be a few minutes more."

“Thank you.” Marcus thanks her sincerely and guides you to the chairs.

It's about ten minutes later than a tall, pretty blonde in a floral dress appears from around a corner, leading two people back toward the lobby of the building. If you hadn't watched them come into view you would have said it was too ridiculous. Too much of a coincidence. But there they are – Sam and Vanessa side–by–side with a notebook and pen in Vanessa's hands and Sam gesturing authoritatively all the way.

Marcus stiffens slightly, his hand squeezing yours gently and he wonders if he should stand and greet them or pretend that they aren’t known to you or him.

It only takes a split second, but the decision is taken from you almost instantly. Sam spots you from across the lobby and pauses only momentarily before aiming the group of them directly for you instead of toward the exit. “Looks like we’re doing this,” you murmur to Marcus, and stand with his hand still in yours as your exes approach.

“Congressman Chase, Vanessa.” Marcus greets both of them politely, if a little stiffly. Formal. Something that couldn’t be misinterpreted by anyone as rude. “What a surprise to see you both.”

“Well this is a surprise.” Sam doesn’t offer to shake Marcus Pike’s hand or yours, barely looking at you while the well–dresses blonde that had been walking with them senses the tension right away.

“Congressman. Miss D’Amario.” She looks nervous too, by association. Unlike Miss Amber at the desk, she knows exactly who is in front of her. “Let me just get you that last brochure, shall I?”

Marcus doesn’t say anything else, just rubbing the back of your hand gently and watching as the blonde guides them back towards the desk. “Well, I’m not sure why they are here.” He murmurs quietly.

“Who knows?” You huff quietly, holding onto him for stability. “Maybe the same reason we are.”

“No, no.” Sam’s voice is distinct in the echoing building. “We want to have the event at the house.” He is insisting loudly. “Not on an overlooking lawn.”

“I’m very sorry, sir, but as I explained to you, we have four locations across the grounds for private events.” With the patience of a saint, Melanie explains yet again. “Each location has multiple rooms available for hosting. However, the historical house is not one of them.”

“That’s is not good enough.” Sam tried charming her, but now it’s time to be serious. “Don’t you know what this is for?”

“Yes Congressman, you’ve been very clear about that.” Her painted on smile is placid and professional, even if her nerves are fraying slightly. “But with respect, even if the president wanted to have a campaign event here, the house would still not be an option.”

“There has to be a way to make this happen.” He glances over at you and Marcus, frowning slightly at why you are here. Another symbol of why he is having to fight so hard to make things happen. You’ve screwed him over.

“It is not an option we have available.” The woman’s eyes track his, glancing over at you in the lobby. She knows the ticking time bomb she has in her hands. She had been following the new first family in the news since the election. “And I assure you that our answer for anyone else will be the same.”

The shift of her eyes irritates him. Signifying that he’s not the most important person in the room. Clenching his jaw, he shakes his head. “I would hate for this to descend into a legal battle.” He speaks as if it’s not a threat but then he shifts topics. “What days are available?”

“If you are looking to hold an event next month, our lawn here is entirely booked aside from the night of Saturday the fourteenth. We had a cancellation that night. Otherwise we have smaller spaces available on several days but your maximum capacity for the event would be sixty people.”

"That will not be enough for our needs." Sam insists. "We would need the entire venue."

"We will be happy to accommodate the number of guests you quoted on the lawn on Saturday the fourteenth." The otherwise very pleasant looking blonde smothers a sigh of frustration and hands a brochure over to Vanessa, who accepts it with a snap of her hand and clips to the folder she is carrying. "Beyond that, our next available date to accommodate that many guests would be in January."

"Fine." He's not happy and he will be having a word with the proper people to get the answers he wants. "We will let you know, but pencil us in."

"The date will be held for twenty–four hours. At which time I will be happy to accept your deposit or establish an alternative plan with you for another space on the property, otherwise the availability will be released to other clients." When she smiles this time there is a measure of relief in it. "If there is anything else I can do for you, or anything other questions I can answer for you, please feel free to contact me. My office hours and direct line are listed on the card that I gave to your assistant."

Vanessa straightens slightly, tall and proud beside Sam. Her eyes flicker over to the pair of you to see if you are watching. Curious to know why you are here and desperate to not appear that way.

“Fine.” Sam bristles, disliking being told ‘no’ and placing the blame squarely on one single set of shoulders. No one had told him no while he was publicly dating the First Daughter. His effort to organize re–election events shouldn’t be nearly this hard, but here he is. Having to take meetings himself instead of making a simple phone call or just sending Vanessa on his behalf. But without knowing for certain why you and that FBI lackey of yours are here, he wants to see if he can at least eavesdrop on the beginning of your meeting before he leaves.

When Melanie shakes hands with Sam and Vanessa again, turning to walk towards you and Marcus, the two of you stand. “Thank you for taking the time to see us.” He starts, offering the slightly frazzled woman a sincere smile. “Hopefully our questions won’t be too arduous.”

“I’m sure they won’t be.” She wants to say that nothing would be as arduous as the meeting she just took, but that would be less than professional. She shakes your hand in turn and motions toward the direction she had come from with the congressman. “Why don’t we go to my office?”

Marcus does the polite thing and nods to Sam and Vanessa, a little surprised when the woman who had ended things with him amicably turns her head to snub him. He doesn’t say anything, just guides you to office, following behind Melanie at a few paces.

“Here we are.” Down a hall and up a few stairs, she stops and opens the door of an office to let you and Marcus inside. “My name is Melanie O’Neil and I’m the special event coordinator here at Monticello. I understand you’re interesting in planning an event with us?”

“Sweetheart?” Marcus looks towards you to take the lead, smiling softly.

"We were hoping you might have availability in the beginning of October, though I know that is short notice," you explain, but you did hear her rattle off some dates to Sam in the lobby. "We're interested in having our engagement party here."

“Engagement?” Her eyes widen happily as she takes in the sight of a happy couple in love. “Delightful.” She shuffles through the book and nods. “We have Saturday the fourteenth, I’m afraid that it is the only date available.” She tilts her head. “Someone else has expressed interest, but they have not paid to reserve it.” She would not feel bad about direct Sam Chase somewhere else.

"That would be fine with us, but I insist on waiting the appropriate twenty–four hours to give the other interested party their fair chance." You won't have Sam whining to some blogger about how you stole his venue space. That just won't fly. "Can you tell us a little about how you organize the space or if you have caterers on site?"

“It is the lawn area.” Motioning to the large detailed map of the event areas, she indicates a gorgeous area close to the water. “We can set up the space to accommodate practically any needs. A dance floor, a bar, string lighting.” She explains. “Tents are approved but they have to be provided by Monticello, to make sure that we don’t have someone coming in and destroying the grounds. Catering can be provided or you can invite someone in to cater for you.”

“That all sounds very reasonable.” The pricing is also reasonable for the location and what is being offered, and Melanie shows you and Marcus a brochure of price packages. “So we could select to have you provide the bar, tents, tables, chairs, lighting, and a dance floor…and we can bring in our own catering?”

“Absolutely.” She agrees with a nod and smile. “We pride ourselves on making sure that our clients have the best possible time.”

“And…” Glancing over at Marcus and then at the door where Agent Bailey is currently standing as nonchalantly as possible while keeping her eyes open. “You won’t have a problem with having the Secret Service on property?”

“Oh no.” If she’s shocked by the question, she doesn’t show it. “We will follow the lead of your security at all times. I do have to warn you that there are other events that day, but we keep the spaces separate.”

“That’s wonderful.” It’s hard to believe that anyone would have a problem doing business with this woman, but then…some people are quite picky. And you know Sam is one of them. “Honey, did you have any questions or ideas?” You ask, wanting to make sure Marcus is in on this planning.

Marcus considers the space and looks towards you. “Live band?” He asks. “Can there be speakers placed?”

“Certainly.” Melanie smiles at that and scribbles an additional note in the pad in front of her. “We have a bandstand ready to be put up when needed. As long as we’re not talking about a full scale orchestra, that can be accommodated.”

“No, nothing like that.” Marcus laughs. “I don’t think we would want to be that pretentious for an engagement party. We just want to have fun, right Birdie?”

“I don’t even want a big orchestra for the wedding, let alone the engagement party.” You agree, laughing a little at the very idea of it. It’s utterly ridiculous. You’re not orchestra people even if you do both like classical music sometimes. “No, I think we’re talking about something very reasonable. Nothing too big or too nit–picky.”

“I think that’s the best option, a live band and then we have a playlist for when they are taking breaks.” Marcus agrees looking towards Melanie. “Do you have a lot of bands that you work with? I’m not too familiar with the scene here.”

“We have a few.” She nods, turning to her computer, presumably to print out a list. “Mostly the kind you would hire for a wedding. Cover bands like that get a lot of work out here.”

“I would imagine they would.” Marcus agrees, looking towards you. “What do you think, sweetheart? Unless you have someone specific?”

“No, I think that sounds perfect.” Live music is definitely something you both feel strongly about, and it continues to incorporate local artists into the fold of every one of your events. It’s an excellent plan. “Can I leave you my number, and ask you to give me a call tomorrow to tell me whether or not Congressman Chase decides to take the date?” You ask Melanie as politely as possible. “If he doesn’t, I think we’ll be very glad to have it.”

“I will most assuredly call you.” She promises with a smile, hoping that she deals with you instead of the congressman.

“Then how about a tour?” You suggest, offering the woman a smile.

“That would be wonderful.” Marcus agrees. “If you have time, of course.”

“Of course.” Melanie stands from her desk again. “Come along with me.”

******

“What if we just stayed here?” You groan for the second time this morning, burrowing deeper into Marcus’s side in bed as the sun rises higher in the morning sky. It’s early but you have a lot to do. His parents and a few other friends and family are arriving this morning for the engagement party tonight. The planning had gone well for being such short notice, but that still doesn’t mean you want to leave the warmth of your fiancé’s side just yet. There are a thousand things to do today before the party tonight, but you’ll manage. You just want a few more minutes of quiet with Marcus before facing it all.

“Then we will have a party that will be will be talked about for ages.” Marcus hums in amusement. “An engagement party where the couple doesn’t arrive.” He rubs your back gently. “We could start a new fad.”

“It would be very mysterious of us,” you snicker, knowing you and Marcus are some of the least mysterious people on the planet.

“Yes it would. I think everyone would start a manhunt for us.” He laughs.

“Probably not the best idea,” you admit, even if it makes you laugh. “Since the Secret Service would be involved in the manhunt.”

“Millions of taxpayer dollars, wasted.” He snorts, smirking at you slightly. “All the helicopters they would bring out.”

You snort, looking up at him in the morning light and sigh dramatically to get one more laugh from him. "I guess we should get up then, huh?"

“If we have to.” This time, he’s the one pouting. “Our honeymoon needs to be someplace quiet. A cabin in the mountains. Where we just stay in bed all day.”

"You know you can go stay at the hotel where they filmed Dirty Dancing, right?" As you drag yourself out of bed on the morning of your engagement party, talking about your honeymoon sounds like the perfect conversation.

“Really?” Marcus hums, intrigued by the idea. “It’s really up in the Catskills, isn’t it?”

"It is." Unconcerned with wearing anything night for the first part of the day, you go straight to your closet for jeans and a t–shirt. You'll change into the silver cocktail dress you have picked out later tonight. "And they supposedly really lean into the Dirty Dancing thing, which is fun."

“I’m sure Agent Bailey would love an isolated cabin to have us locked away.” He teases. “If you want to look into that, I’m completely game.”

“It’s a far cry from our original idea.” Which is neither good nor bad, just worth pointing out. “Paris is very different from a cabin in the Catskills.”

“That’s true.” Marcus stops and turns to you. “I love the idea of both, each for very different reasons.” He admits with a grin. “Whatever you want, as long as I’m with you, I’ll be happy.”

“We could always make up a little list?” You offer, ultimately pulling an old college t–shirt out of your closet with a clean bra. “And then narrow it down after we settle on a wedding date?”

“That works for me.” Marcus agrees, watching you as you start to get dressed. It’s probably his favorite part of the day, unless you count undressing.

"Where else might you want to go?" He's watching carefully and you wiggle your hips a little in his direction.

Marcus grunts, feeling his body respond to the little tease and he’s honestly wondering if he can take you back to bed for another hour. “Um…you pick.” He tells you. “A beach?”

"The beach is good." If you reach for a pair of nearly non–existent panties just to keep teasing him? Well, who can blame you for that? "Sand and swimming and sunny skies. Are you thinking Mexico or Mediterranean?"

Marcus blows out a breath when you pull out the see through lace that is literally just scraps of cloth posing as panties. “Mexico would be nice. Somewhere off the beaten path?”

"Someplace with a little bungalow and a private beach?" Since Marcus likes to tease you just as much as you like to tease him, you don't feel bad for even a second about bending over dramatically in front of him so he can have the best view of your ass when you put your panties on. "Hawaii could be fun, too."

“Too many people.” He immediately grunts. “Too many cameras.”

That makes you smirk, and you throw it over your shoulder at him. “So you’re looking to have me all to yourself?”

“Absolutely.” He nods immediately, finding your eyes for a moment before he goes back to ogling you. “All mine.”

“Well that’s true even if we go someplace not isolated.” Deciding to continue messing with him just a tiny bit, you grab your tightest jeans to slip into while you’re still talking. “I’ve been yours since the day we met.”

“But I’m thinking more of being able to strip you down whenever I want.” He admits with a grin. Completely unrepentant at the idea. “Maybe not even pack clothes.”

“If that’s what we’re going to do, we can lock ourselves in the house and Door Dash every meal.” You remind him, finally going to put on your bra and shirt. “Our honeymoon is a chance to have an adventure together. A sexy adventure, but still an adventure.”

“Get your head out of the gutter, got it.” He winks and shoots finger guns at you playfully. “Like it said, just ideas.”

“Listen,” you grin in response to his silliness. “If we decide on a winter wedding, we’re absolutely going someplace tropical to get away. I’m not looking to put snowshoeing on our itinerary.”

“So an Alaskan dog sledding race is off the table?” He jokes, snickering to himself.

“You don’t like snow either, Texas.” But both of you laugh, and as you shimmy into your t–shirt you’re already feeling better about the day. “Also…I don’t think a winter wedding sounds ideal. Even DC gets snow, and we lose any chance of having part of the night outside.”

“Yeah, I’ve never understood the ‘Winter Wonderland’ theme some people go for.” He admits with a huff. “Freezing my nut— uh, toes off doesn’t sound fun.”

“No,” you snort and tug him up out of bed to get dressed with you. “Freezing your nuts off does not sound fun.”

“Caught that, huh?” He huffs, even if he’s well aware that you don’t mind that kind of humor. “I don’t think you would like it either. You seem to like that part of my body.”

“I like that part of your body very much.” Your smirk is puckish. “Just as much as you like my tits.”

“Don’t forget your ass.” He reminds you, smirking as he pulls off his sleep shirt to get dressed. “I like that too. Oh and your thighs.”

“I like all parts of you and you like all parts of me.” You bite your lip unconsciously when he starts to change, always admiring of your fiancé in as many ways as he’ll let you at any given time. Marcus isn’t vain. He doesn’t dedicate himself to cut abs and weight lifting. But he does go to the gym to be in shape for his job and that combined with his love of food has made him broad and strong with a layer of cushioning softness that you adore.

“Then it sounds like we are a perfect match.” He winks at you as you eye him. Turning around and wiggling his own hips playfully, even though he has a flat ass.

It gets a snort and a giggle from you, and you swat at him playfully. “Do you want to go downstairs for breakfast or have something up here?”

“Completely up to you, love.” He promises. “I’ve heard rumors that Syd has been haunting the kitchens with a snuggly little Constance strapped to her chest.

“I keep telling her that maternity leave exists for a reason, but she can’t stay away.” Not that you blame her. You know for damn certain that you won’t be able to stay away from the inn after you’ve had your kids, either. “Let’s go down and say hello.”

He snorts to himself, well aware that he will be fighting the same battle Juan is when you are recovering from giving birth. “I think we need to just build her a house on the property too.” He tells you. “Make sure she’s close enough to rest.”

“The house is almost done.” Just one more month, according to the contractors. “Maybe we should keep the apartment up here as a resting space for the staff for a while? Before we turn it into a guest suite.”

“Orrrrrr…” Marcus tilts his head as he looks around the apartment. It’s not large, but it’s large enough. “What if we turned it into a small area for a nanny?” He asks. “Someone to come and watch Constance and the future Pike brood for us?” He had been thinking about it and it seemed like a good idea and it would allow everyone peace of mind in knowing the kids are close.

“That…” Your eyes flick up to his, wistful smile tugging at your lips and warmth blooming in your heart. “Sounds like a wonderful idea.” Marcus has an uncanny ability to see the future so clearly that it might make you envious if you weren’t so grateful to have him as your partner. “I genuinely love that, baby.”

“You do?” He asks, wondering if you are just agreeing to it because you are so in love with him right now. “I figured it would be a good way for you to see the babies, ours and Syd’s, anytime you get a chance.”

“It’s a lot more practical than driving them to daycare in town only to come back here for work.” Instinct and affection make you want to snuggle into his side again, but you know you have things to do around the possibility that your baby goddaughter is downstairs make you reach for a cardigan instead of your fiancé. “I think it’s smart. And will probably save us some anxiety in the long run.”

“I think so.” Marcus agrees quickly. “There’s someone dedicated to watching them, so work can be uninterrupted, but you can see and snuggle them when needed.”

“Don’t pretend you won’t be working through your lunches sometimes just to get home to them sooner.” It’s an image you can see so vividly that it almost makes you glow, knowing how much Marcus is looking forward to being a father to as many kids as you can manage together.

“Have to make it home before the sun goes down.” He scoffs. “How else will we play ball? It can’t be in the house.”

“The only balls anybody’s playing with in the house are yours when I give you head,” you tell him unequivocally, nudging him toward the bedroom door once you’re both dressed to go brush your teeth together so you can go downstairs and eat.

He snorts in amusement, although he can’t deny that you do play with his balls while you are blowing him. Smacking his lips to your cheek before he loads up your toothbrush and then his, he winks in the mirror – thoroughly enjoying the everyday chores with you.

You’re on your way downstairs within about fifteen minutes. Agent Bailey is downstairs by your office when the elevator opens, having opened up to giving you more space now that you have an armed federal officer in the apartment with you every night. Around the corner and into the kitchen, you have to smother a squeal of delight when you see Syd hovering by the line with little Constance in her baby carrier strapped safely to mama’s chest.

“Told you.” Marcus bumps your arms and immediately grins when he sees the little girl. Shes not too old to stay awake for long and she’s snoozing peacefully while the chaos of the kitchen goes on around her. “This has to be her lullaby.” He jokes. “She grew in the womb to it.”

“Oh my goodness, oh my goodness, oh my goodness.” You scurry to Sydney’s side without hesitation to hug her gently and peer into little Constance’s face. “Hello angel! Oh my goodness she’s so sweet when she sleeps!”

“She’s actually one of those babies that sleeps better amidst the noise!” Sydney laughs and rubs her daughter’s back through the sling, leaning against you instantly. “You caught me, huh?”

“I’m not even cross that you’re poking around work while you’re supposed to be resting because you brought the baby,” you admit, although you restrain yourself from doing anything besides admiring Constance. Waking her up by accident would be awful. “Are you guys feeling okay about coming out tonight?” Juan’s mother had assured her son and daughter–in–law that the baby would be in expert hands if they wanted to make the engagement party their first outing since her birth. And you had also assured them that you wouldn’t be offended if they only came to the party for dinner and headed home before the dancing to be with their little girl.

“I’m looking forward to it.” She admits with a lopsided smile. “Just forgive me if I text my mother–in–law six hundred times to check on her?” She asks, knowing you would never be upset about that. “I don’t know how we are ever going to drop her into a daycare. That’s if we find one that will open up in the next six months.” They have been on a wait list for the daycare of their choice since she found out she was pregnant. There are still twelve other couples on the wait list ahead of them.

“Marcus actually had an idea about that.” A proud grin to your fiancé on the other side of the kitchen where he is getting your breakfast from Syd’s sous chef lights up your whole face. “Why don’t we bring dinner over to your place after the weekend is over and the chaos subsides, and we’ll tell you about it?”

“Of course.” She grins at the way the two of you had made deep and lasting plans. Knowing you deserve all that and so much more. “Indian?” She suggests. “I’m craving curry.”

“We’ll get take out from Rasika. Whatever you want.” While it might be one of your and Marcus’s favourite take out spots, it’s also a favorite of your friend group so that is an easy answer. “And you text home as much as you need to tonight, love.” Casting your eye from mother to daughter, your smile softens and your heart aches from wanting one of your own. “This little angel is worth it.”

“Isn’t she?” Like any new mother, her daughter is the most perfect thing to ever exist. “She’s feeding for longer. She ate four whole ounces yesterday when Juan fed her a bottle.” She’s pumping and they are bottle feeding to make sure Juan gets his own bonding time with Constance when Sydney isn’t breastfeeding. Plus there are times the still recovering mother is too tired to do it. So it helps them tag team their newborn.

You and Syd can and have cooed together over her growing girl for hours at a time, so you don’t even realize you’ve been standing there for ten solid minutes being an absolutely doting pair of sentimental idiots until Marcus comes up behind you and gently slides one hand around your waist.

“You need to eat, sweetheart.” He reminds you, whispering in your ear as he watches the baby sleep against her mother’s chest. He’s gotten to hold her for a bit, but he lets you hold her more when the opportunity presents itself. “We have a lot to do before the party.”

There are two plates with pesto–prosciutto breakfast panini on them sitting on the counter nearby along with two oversized ice coffees and you relent, leaning back against Marcus after giving Syd one more gentle squeeze. “You’re right,” you sigh. “I just want to stare at this little nugget of a baby forever.”

“I know.” Marcus chuckles. “How many times have you thought about having our first since she’s been born?” He teases, knowing he’s also been hit by baby fever as well.

“Like fifteen times a day every single day.” You can’t help but laugh, knowing he feels the same, and you let him peel you away from the baby reluctantly when Syd’s sous chef has a question for her. “Fifteen is a minimum estimate, by the way.”

“I was honestly thinking it was more like thirty.” He laughs. “I’m about that too.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t wait a whole year to get married?” The idea hums through you with excitement. Being able to have a wedding date by tonight would be a fun little plus.

“When’s the last time the roses bloom in the Rose Garden?” Marcus asks, knowing you want to have your wedding there.

“September, really.” The first week of September would be a full year from when Marcus proposed, which seems tidy to you in a way you weren’t expecting but makes you smile. “What if we did early September? Would that step on Constance’s first birthday?”

“I think we should talk about it with the parents, but I don’t see that being a problem honestly.” Marcus hums happily.

"I heard parents!" Syd calls across the kitchen, fearless in the face of a miracle baby who truly can sleep through the chaos of a kitchen. She bounces subtly as she walks across the room, making sure her daughter is comfortable against her chest, and leans against the counter where you and Marcus are having your breakfast. "What's up?"

“We were talking about wedding dates.” Marcus admits, glancing at you with a small smirk. “We don’t want to schedule something to step on the birthday girl’s toes.” He reaches out and caresses the sleeping baby with the back of index finger.

"Were you guys thinking of doing it in September?" She asks, eyes sliding over to you and when you nod through a bite of food she smiles. "What if we pick a different weekend?" Sydney suggests. "I don't want to suggest doing the baby's birthday in place of a day–after brunch or anything. So we can just do two weekends in a row?"

“Or we could.” Marcus offers with a grin. “I know my family is up for celebrating a baby’s first birthday. Especially since they are going to fall in love with her tonight.” He warns. “Constance will be gaining a lot of aunts and uncles.”

"We weren't really planning on having a day–after event anyway," you assure her. There are already so many wedding events on your plate that adding one more sounds overwhelming to you. "What if we added more of Juan's family to the wedding guest list so they'll already be in town, and the next day we can all relax with something much more casual? It sounds...kind of perfect, actually."

“I think that Juan would like that. I thinks it’s perfect.” Their friendship had grown even closer and Juan had confided he wanted more time with his family. It’s the perfect opportunity. “We can book out the inn, right?” He asks you. “And get more hotel rooms, of course.” He chuckles. “My mom has already said she wants to stay here but the Watergate Hotel is calling her name.”

"We could have Connie's birthday here?" You raise an eyebrow to Syd in question. "We'll be surrounded by family and friends and you'll barely have to roll out of bed to get here." The Badillo house is close by and you and Marcus will be more or less in the inn's backyard.

"Comfort food, family event, and very casual." Sydney laughs, but she is nodding her head. "Sean has been a great sous chef. I know he can handle that even with my nitpicky ass hovering over everything."

“It sounds like we have a plan.” Marcus agrees. “So I think our wedding day needs to be the day before little Connie’s birthday.”

"September ninth." Of course you and Sydney say it at the same time, grinning at each other. Constance was born in the wee hours of the tenth.

"That means it will be a long weekend for people. It will be good to give them the date well in advance." It will be beautiful, is what it will be. Beautiful, and fun, and an occasion well worth celebrating.

His suit and your dress in the trunk of the car, Marcus steers towards the venue happily. “So we start getting set up, the band should be there first, right?” He asks. “Get the sound check done before the other vendors?”

"Yeah, that's what we planned on." A White House photographer will also be on hand, documenting the event for any press that Annette deems appropriate. You've left it entirely to her. "Melanie will be there to direct traffic, and she has a room for us to change and keep personal affects in."

“My parents are landing in about an hour.” He reminds you. “They will be out here to help and generally support us as soon as they drop bags in the hotel.”

"Selena, Leo, and Clark are all meeting us out here around the same time. They're riding together." The contingent from Dallas that has moved to DC in the last few months have banded together well and are all excited to join the next board game night. Bringing your friends and his together has been exceptionally easy.

“Perfect.” Marcus chuckles. “It’s a good thing the bartender will be showing up next.” He jokes. “Seriously, if we need to get any last minute items, mom said she’ll send dad.”

"I'm just glad we decided not to do flowers." It had been Junie's idea. During the Friday night dinner after you had booked Monticello, the discussion at the table had turned to decor and when your mother's ideas for florals got overcomplicated it had been your sister who suggested having a few large, live plants amongst the tents and lights and candles on the tables instead. "Melanie pulled those potted plants and light plans out of nowhere and I love her for it."

“I think it will make the wedding even more special.” Marcus admits. “Flowers don’t need to be at every event.”

"The rose garden is going to be spectacular." Your genuine excitement for that is infectious enough that it makes Marcus beam brightly at you as he pulls his car into the large lot around the Monticello visitor center.

“Wow.” Marcus frowns slightly as he sees all the vendor vans. “Are they early?”

"They must be." You check the time on your phone and frown to see that it is a full forty–five minutes before the caterer is set to arrive, and two of the vans nearby are marked with a florist's logo. "Maybe it's for one of the other locations on the property? Melanie did say they had multiple events tonight."

“That has to be it.” He agrees, although he knows the other venues have their own designated parking on the other side. He sends you a smile as he parks. “Let’s go get started.”

Melanie is waiting for you inside, smiling and ready in the lobby. “It’s so good to see you!” The nice thing about her is that she seems to actually mean it. “Your caterers just got here, and the florists are starting to unload. We’re doing great for time.”

“Uh...” Marcus shakes his head and looks towards you. “We don’t have a florist.” He reminds her. “The potted plants were what we decide, right?” He asks, wanting to make sure that the plan hadn’t changed.

"And I confirmed the arrival time with the caterers this morning. They aren't supposed to be here for another hour." Your worried eyes meet Marcus's and then Melanie's. "I think there has been some kind of mix–up."

Her brow furrows for a moment and she nods. “I will go make sure they aren’t supposed to be on the other side of the mansion.” She decides, sure that it’s a simple mistake.

"I'm sure it's nothing." The words come out of your mouth but you aren't convinced. Instead, you squeeze Marcus's hand in yours and head to the small room beside Melanie's office to store your party clothes and purse until you're ready to change.

“I’m sure it will all be worked out.” Marcus promises, reassuring you even if he has his own worry. “Come on, let’s go see the space.”

Once your things are stowed away, the pair of you step outside to the lawn to check out the tents, lights, and plants as they should be finished being put up. But instead of seeing potted plants and fairy lights there are sunflower arrangements and autumn harvest centerpieces stacked out on the banquet tables. Even the tables have the wrong color tablecloths – deep navy instead of the seasonal shade of red that you had picked out.

“Well, shit.” Marcus huffs, clearly seeing the problem and he quickly steps over to the young lady that is directing the flowers. “Excuse me.” He interrupts politely. “I’m afraid there is a problem.”

"There is?" She looks spooked, almost like a deer in the headlights with the large arrangement of flowers in her hands. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure–who are you, exactly?"

“Sorry.” He’s always going to fall back to manners, so he offers her an apologetic smile. “I’m Marcus Pike and this is my fiancée.” He introduces you. “We are setting up for our engagement party tonight and we don’t have floral arrangements.” He explains kindly. “Are you sure you have the right spot here? I know there’s several events happening tonight.”

“Oh!” She laughs in obvious relief and digs in her pocket to pull out some folded paperwork to show you both. “I think you’re in the wrong place, Mr. Pike. We’re setting up for Mr. Chase.”

Fuck. Marcus feels you tense beside him, but he shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry, but I’m not in the wrong place.” He tells her kindly aware that she is a vendor caught in the middle of something. It’s not her fault. “My fiancée and I rented out this space for tonight. Mr. Chase must have gotten his dates mixed up.” Marcus is well aware that isn’t the case, but he won’t air dirty laundry in front of her. “Here.” He pulls out his own contract for the venue that he had slipped into his pocket, always one to cover his bases and he’s glad that paid off.

“That’s weird…” Looking at both contracts, the florist frowns heavily and offers you both an apologetic expression. “Let me get my boss. Hang on one second,” she says before scurrying away.

“Shit.” Marcus hisses, turning towards you. “What are the odds it’s a mix up on Melanie’s part?” He knows the answer, and so do you.

“Zero. That woman is so meticulous it makes Juan look scatterbrained.” Closing your eyes against the frustrated outburst that is pushing on your chest right now, you lean into Marcus and exhale slowly. “I honestly can’t believe he’d go this far.”

“Just plaster on that amazing customer service charm and I will dazzle them with kindness.” He murmurs, leaning in and kissing your temple. “We have the contract for the venue.”

“I love you.” Murmured words aren’t enough to keep your heart from pounding with anxiety, but his arms around you are. Marcus hugs you tight and you just find yourself wondering what the hell happened to turn Sam into this vindictive monster…or if he was always this way and you never knew him at all.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He promises. “It’s just a small bump in the road.”

“I hope you’re right.” It’s terrifying to think that things might go so entirely wrong so early. It isn’t something that sits well with you, especially not when you have almost a hundred people coming tonight.

“It will.” He promises again, kissing your forehead again. “We have a legal contract.”

A serious looking woman with short gray hair and a clipboard comes back with the girl who had scurried away, and she introduces herself only to Marcus with forceful authority. "I understand we have some confusion on our hands?"

“Yes madam.” Marcus shows her the contract that Melanie had given him, clearly stating the space and date were his and gives her an apologetic smile. “I’m afraid your client is mistaken.”

"I'm sure that's not right." The prim woman doesn't even look at the paperwork that is being presented to her. "The Congressman was very specific in his planning and we are right on time in setting up for tonight."

“The Congressman was mistaken.” Marcus insists, a little more firmly. “The First Daughter signed this contract to rent this space tonight for her engagement party. Which the President will be in attendance for.” Titles seem to impress this woman, so he throws out a few that are sure to get her attention.

"Let's see if we can't get all of this sorted out." Melanie has appeared, looking frazzled but quickly recomposing herself with a young man in tow behind her. "It seems that our event staff did not verify paperwork for the caterer or florist when you arrived." She offers the gray–haired woman a professional smile, but you get the impression that the kid behind her with his tail tucked between his legs is going to get his ass kicked for this mistake. "May I see both sets of reservations, please? I'm sure we can get this cleared up quickly."

Marcus steps back and lets Melanie take over, sure that she will be able to clear things up quickly. He turns to you and gives you a reassuring smile.

"Well, I'm not sure what went wrong." After looking over both contracts, Melanie holds tight to both and looks between her actual clients and the florist who apparently should not be here. "But unfortunately, Congressman Chase never reserved this date or location with my office, did not make any payment on the space, and certainly is not hosting an event here tonight. So I'm going to have to ask you to leave, I'm afraid. We do have a contracted event here tonight and our security will be very tight."

“I’m sorry?” Blinking owlishly, the prim woman shakes her head, obviously not used to being told no. “Congressman Chase has a campaign event here tonight. Many important people will be here.”

"More important than the President of the United States?" Melanie challenges, not backing down. What she does, though, is turn to you and Marcus and apologize. "I will take care of this. If you would like to have a seat inside, I will absolutely come and let you know when everything is resolved."

“Thank you.” Marcus takes your arm and leads you towards the building so Melanie can deal with things. “You might want to call that White House press person.” He murmurs quietly. “I have a feeling Chase did this on purpose.”

"I don't know what the hell we did to deserve this," you huff, pulling out your phone to call Annette. She's probably on her way to the venue already but you know she was coming with her husband so hopefully he's driving and she can talk.

“I think he’s got a fucking screw loose.” Marcus mutters, shaking his head at the increasing antics the congressman is pulling.

When the call connects you have to swallow a sound of relief mixed with frustration. Getting to talk to Annette is a relief but you're so frustrated you could scream. "Annette? It's Birdie. We, uh...we have a situation. It appears that Sam Chase has attempted to double book the same venue as us for tonight."

“Oh dear.” The soft sigh is one of practiced patience, having put out many a fire in her day. “It’s not a mistake on the venue?” She clarifies.

"No." You shake your head as though she can see you, but it's just an emotional reaction. "Miss O'Neil is certain there was no mix up in the booking, but there are vendors here to set up for a campaign event that is definitely not supposed to be happening." Glancing up at Marcus beside you, you sigh softly. "Marcus and I suspect that Sam is trying some kind of indecipherable stunt. To make us look heartless or something equally outlandish. Like we stole his venue, I guess."

“Gotcha.” Her voice is slightly terse but it’s not towards you. “I will start making calls to his office right now. You just hang tight and I’ll be there in a few minutes. Don’t worry.”

"Thank you, Annette." Your eyes close against the sinking feeling in your stomach that the night is starting to unravel at an alarming rate. "We'll see you soon."

You end the call and Marcus reaches for you, pulling you into his arms. “It’s okay, sweetheart.” He soothes you, quietly.

“She’s almost here.” The urge to cry out of sheer frustration is strong, and you bury yourself in Marcus’s chest for strength. “What in the hell did we do to deserve this?”

“I don’t know.” He answers honestly, unable to fathom the malice behind the way Sam Chase is operating. “But we will show him that we are not to be messed with.”

“How?” The question is incredulous, but it’s honestly because you’re feeling so at sea with confusion in this whole situation. “By running to my mommy about it? The President can’t kick a Congressman out of power for being a dick to her daughter.”

“By showing him that he holds no power over us.” It’s a bit unsatisfying, being the bigger person and not using his own status to make like difficult for Congressman Chase, but he wants to be above reproach when shit hits the fan. And he has no doubt it will.

“Ugh, that’s so unsatisfying,” you groan, unknowingly echoing his thought exactly. It’s a small mercy to have the same thought, though, and you both laugh. “I want to nail him to the wall but there’s no crime against being an asshole.”

“I know, but he wants to get under your skin.” He reminds you softly. “That’s the entire point of this, I think.”

“Well he’s succeeded.” As much as you hate to admit it, he really has. He’s made you feel guilty and selfish for wanting to celebrate your love with your soulmate, which isn’t fair in the least.

“I know.” Marcus kisses your forehead again. “I’ve never wanted to hit someone more in my entire life.” He huffs. “Not even Patrick Jane when he convinced Teresa to choose him.”

"And that guy was an asshole," you huff, having heard the entire story from Marcus early on in your relationship.

“Yeah…he really is.” He chuckles and pulls away slightly to look into your eyes. “He did me a favor.”

"I don't know what I did to deserve you." His kindness and his support mean the world to you, and the ugly realization that if Marcus had not appeared in your life like a whirlwind that you might still be with Sam? It stings your heart in a way that isn't quite aching or envy but that smacks of bitter regret.

“Just being the most wonderful woman in the world.” He teases, nudging his nose against yours.

"Hardly." Or, at least, it doesn't feel like it right now. But you sigh, letting yourself settle against him and accepting the kiss he offers you before you stand straight again. "We should change a little early," you decide after a moment. "Present a united front of joy instead of looking like we're not quite prepared."

“Whatever you want to do, sweetheart.” He will follow your lead of course, wanting you to feel in charge. Especially with the turn of events.

"I think it might be better." Or, at least, it well help you feel less at sea. Because right now you just feel like you're floundering in uncertainty. "Especially if we have to deal with Sam directly."

“Do you think that he will actually show up?” His brows lift and he doesn’t like that prospect at all. Sam has been exhibiting dangerous behavior, even if he can’t prove it has been him behind the vicious rumors.

"At this point I'm not really sure what to expect at all." But confidence comes from all places, and if right now it comes from putting on the beautiful dress that Alex and David helped you pick out and going out there holding Marcus's hand? Then so be in. Sam does not get to ruin to night, and he does not get to ruin your joy. "But I guess I would rather be mentally prepared for the worst."

“Whatever happens…” Marcus smiles at you proudly. “I’m going to be right there beside you.”

It takes nearly a half an hour to calm down, change clothes, and do your make up, but once you’re ready you head back outside with Marcus to find Agent Bailey waiting for you in the lobby and a commotion outside. “What’s going on?” You ask, though you’re afraid for the answer and not even sure if she will know.

“Miss D’Amario is trying to get the Congressman on the phone,” Agent Bailey explains. “Your vendors are starting to arrive and Melanie had them prepping so they can set up the second the others are cleared away.”

“Vanessa is here?” Marcus looks around warily and spots her standing off to the side looking slightly frazzled as she furiously types on her phone.

“Awesome.” The obvious sarcasm in your voice comes out in a huff. Your exes always being together is more like a Nightmare Team than a Dream Team.

“I’m going to talk to her.” Marcus decides, done with them upsetting you.

“I’m going to stay nearby so that I can intercept anyone who arrives,” you decide. Going up on your toes to give him a kiss, you brush the sharp lapel off his blue suit and offer him your most encouraging smile. “Go get ‘em, Slugger.”

Marcus smiles at your reassurance, but it drops into a frown when he turns and walks towards Vanessa. He’s tired of the games and now, he’s going to face the problem head on. “What is going on, Vanessa?” He demands when he reaches her side. “This is getting ridiculous.”

“What’s going on is crossed wires.” She doesn’t look up from her phone. She doesn’t need to. She still knows Marcus Pike’s voice. “I don’t know how this woman could possibly have booked us both tonight and now she’s playing dumb and getting defensive about it.”

“She’s not playing dumb, but I’m disappointed you are.” Marcus states flatly, sighing softly. “This little game you and Chase are playing needs to stop.”

“I’m not playing dumb.” Vanessa defends, brow furrowed in frustration as she looks up at Marcus after hitting the send button on her text. “The Congressman booked the location himself. All the other vendors were booked by me personally. We’re supposed to be here.”

“Did he forward you the contract and emails?” Her reaction is more honest than he expected and the fact that Sam booked the venue makes him wonder if she was kept in the dark. He pulls out the contract he had tried to show the vendor earlier. “Where is this if Chase actually was double booked?”

“He has the contract. I’m trying to get ahold of him to get a copy right now.” She huffs, frustration and uncertainty lining the worries creases in her brow. “Why couldn’t you two have just had your little party at her hotel anyway? Isn’t that what the place is for? You don’t need the clout of a place like Monticello.”

“Why should she always have parties where she’s doing most of the work? This is our engagement party.” Marcus fires back, unable to believe the condescension in her tone. “What do you have against her, Vanessa? You ended things with me not the other way around. And I thought we ended on good terms.”

“She’s a snob. And dishonest, too boot.” Vanessa doesn’t hold back, obviously pushed to the edge of whatever manners she usually has by the situation at hand. “Almost an entire year in the campaign trail as her mother’s Golden Child preaching freedom of affection and holding Sam up to be the next Jack Kennedy and then she flips her entire platform on a dime when she claims to find her soulmate. It’s pandering, Marcus. And I honestly thought you were better than that.”

“I am her soulmate, Vanessa.” He murmurs quietly. “We didn’t know when we met. I figured it out, that night you broke up with me. Hell, she knew before I did and didn’t say anything because she was with Chase.” He sighs. “So freedom of affection means you can’t choose your soulmate?” He asks. “What about you? You chose your soulmate when you broke up with me. Should I have been spiteful?”

“I always wanted my soulmate.” Vanessa defends, standing up a little straighter and squaring her shoulders. As it that stance somehow gives her a moral high ground. “I support him, and take care of him, and do whatever he needs. That is what love is.”

It clicks, like a bolt of lightning. “It’s Sam, isn’t it?” He asks. “Your soulmate is Sam Chase. That’s why you are doing this.”

The frown on her face flattens into a thin line, unwilling to say a single thing against the man she’s been loyal to for years now. “If I can’t give him the position he wants, I can at least help him make up for what he’s lost,” she reasons, not thinking for a moment that Marcus would understand. He isn’t ambitious the way Sam is. He doesn’t want to lead. To mold an entire nation. Dating the First Daughter was supposed to get him there in leaps and bounds.

He shakes his head sadly, hating to see that Vanessa is blind to what is happening. Willingly looking the other way. “Are you happy?” He asks. “Not being enough?” He folds the contract up and puts it back in his pocket. “If losing access to the White House on a personal level is a detriment, then he’s not a very good politician.” Marcus turns around and starts to walk back towards you.

“No one gets into the White House without knowing someone.” She tells his back, tone laced with bitterness because, No of course she isn’t happy, but why does her ex boyfriend have to be the one to point that out to her? “Just like you don’t get to Hollywood or a record deal or a place in an Ivy League without it.”

He doesn’t answer her, knowing that nothing he says will get through to her. She’s blinded by her loyalty to Sam and her utter devotion to the idea that she should support her soulmate no matter what. It’s a twisted logic and he feels bad for her. When they were together, she was a sweet and earnest woman, looking forward to having a family and building a life with her soulmate.

When Marcus comes back to your side he looks sad rather than angry, and you frown all the more deeply for it. “What’s going on?” You ask gently, letting him lean into your side for comfort. “What did she say?”

“Well….I figured out why Vanessa is so blindly helping Chase with his revenge.” He sighs and glances back at the other woman. “She’s his soulmate.”

“Ah shit.” It was somehow in the back of your mind the whole time, you realize, and now that he’s said it there are puzzle pieces that click into place all too easily. “So this…all of this really is just about the fact that I dumped him?” It makes your skin crawl to think about, a grotesque and unsettling feeling that you know is going to haunt you far longer than you want to admit.

“He wants the White House one day.” He reminds you. “I’m almost positive that he either made promises to people because of having access to the President, or was using that relationship to bolster his career.”

“Well that doesn’t make me feel used and disgusting at all.” You cringe, eyes set down on the sturdy flooring beneath your feet. It’s worse than disgusting, actually. It’s downright humiliating. You’d fallen in love with his act. Bought it hook, line, and sinker. Meeting Marcus may have snapped you out of it, but you had still be entirely fooled for a year.

“Hey.” Marcus reaches for you, rubbing your arms and pulling you closer. “Don’t blame yourself, sweetheart.” He hums. “Chase is a man who put on an act to get what he wants. He has fooled plenty of people.”

“Please know that none of this is because I missed him or still had feelings for him.” Careful not to get makeup on his shirt, you tuck into Marcus’s embrace and breathe in the strength of him. “I’m embarrassed at being taken in so completely. And love you impossibly more for being such a good, honest man.”

“I don’t think you feel anything but heartbroken that he could feign affection for his own personal career gain.” He promises. He would have thought it was because of his feelings for you that he was reacting so badly to this, except for what Vanessa had told him. “Even if you still had feelings for him, I would never expect you to turn off a year of emotions like a switch.” He’s secure enough in your love that there is not any reason to doubt you or be jealous.

“Whatever I felt for him started dimming the second I met you,” you assure him. Even though you and Marcus are strong in the love you have for each other, a bit of reassurance never goes amiss. “More than anything I’m upset with myself for being so blind to his true intentions.”

“Honey, you can’t always see the darkness in someone’s heart.” He reminds you, not wanting you to feel guilty. You have nothing to be upset about. Your intentions have always been good.

“So what do we do now?” He seems to have the answers tonight and there is comfort in that — on top of which, he is the one who talked to Vanessa. “Is she backing down? I don’t want to have to have an altercation.”

“I don’t think she knows what is going on, to be honest.” He admits, looking back at the very flustered woman. “I told her that if it was a venue mix up, the congressman would have a contract.”

“Vanessa does all his bookings.” You look up at him in confusion. “Shouldn’t she have the contract?”

“She said he booked the venue and she booked everything else.” He explains, shaking his head. “It’s pure fucking malice.”

“He never booked it.” The realization kicks you in the gut with the force of a wild stallion. “He’s going to go to the press with a story about us stealing his event venue to make us look bad.”

“What better way to do that, with all the press already here for his ‘event’?” His smile is brittle and humorless.

“I heard the press.” Annette comes swinging around the corner and into view like she’s late for a cue on stage. “Tell me what’s going on, kids. I’ll handle it from here.”

Marcus looks at you for the go–ahead and when you nod slightly, he turns to the White House press agent. “We think Sam Chase did this deliberately.” He explains quietly, not wanting the conversation to go beyond the three of you. “Vanessa D’Amario is his personal assistant and apparently his soulmate.” The older woman’s eyes widen in surprise. “She says that Chase personally booked this venue and she booked the vendors. I think he set this up, knowing we were considering this place to force some kind of public ‘they are pushing their weight around’ accusation.” When it’s voice out loud, it sounds like some kind of conspiracy theory, but he knows it’s true.

“Interesting…” Annette looks between the two of you and offers you both what she hopes is a reassuring smile. “If all of that is true, which sounds alarmingly plausible, by the way…well, it means doing a little politicking of our own. Are you two going to be okay if a little press leak happens ahead of your party?”

“Whatever we need to do.” Marcus agrees easily and then looks at you. “What do you think, sweetheart? I think we’ve been on the defensive long enough. Time to play a little offense.”

“There was going to be press coverage for this party anyway, so why not?” You shrug slightly “Do whatever you think will help, Annette.”

“I’m on it,” she promises, disappearing again in a flash with a wink and a thumbs up.

“Well, if anything, we can prove when we sent out the party invites.” He reminds you with a shrug.

“Annette seems to have it in hand.” The best you can do right now is shrug and check your watch. “Your parents, my siblings, and the first carload of our friends should be here soon.”

“We are a little bit behind, but nothing we can’t deal with.” He promises.

“At least I can hear the band doing sound check.” That in and of itself is a huge relief. It means things won’t be too behind schedule. “Let’s go see who’s here.”

“Of course.” Marcus grins at you. “Maybe we stop by the bar and grab a drink to calm our nerves.”

“Slow sipping,” you agree with a nod of your head. “It makes me extra relieved that we have those charcuterie tables as part of our appetizers. Even if the caterers get held up with the other things, people can graze.”

“You loved that idea and I have to admit that it’s a good one.” He steers you towards the lovely little alcove that the beer, wine and cocktails will be handed out from. The bartender is already set, since the venue provides ice and he is handing you drinks in no time.

The first to arrive are Marcus’s parents. Matthew and Donna practically smother the two of you in hugs immediately, so glad to be here to celebrate that they’re buzzing. How handsome Marcus looks in his suit, how lovely your dress is, the perfect warm autumn night for the party, they’re just delighted to be there and a balm of positivity over your soul.

Marcus points his father to the bar while his mother coos over you with a proud smile. Donna Pike absolutely adored you, it was evident from the way she always asked about you and reached out to you without him as an intermediate, wanting to forge a relationship with you separate from her son.

“We’re so glad you were able to come up on short notice.” It’s a relief (one of many tonight) to have such a good relationship with your fiancé’s mother, and you walk with Donna toward the bar with Marcus walks ahead with his father. “We both would rather have waited on the party than do it without you here.”

“The good thing about what I do is that I can teleconference when needed.” It’s not something she employs all the time, but her only child’s engagement party warranted the change of pace.

“We’re grateful.” Especially now that their presence is a calming balm over both you and Marcus. “And I thought…while you’re here…I was hoping to ask a small favor of you?”

“Anything.” The answer is immediate and doesn’t need any consideration. “What do you need, sweetheart?”

“I was hoping you would be willing to come to lunch with me tomorrow,” you glance up at her with a small smile. “At the White House. For a little wedding planning.” It’s both to include your future mother–in–law in planning that she will not be close by enough to really take part in, but also to have your family around you for an afternoon. “My grandmother’s wedding dress has been passed down and I’d like for you to be able to see it. You know, before any decisions or shopping or anything happens.”

“Oh…” she exhales softly, tears immediately making her eyes water and she nods. “Absolutely. It would be— of course.” She insists. “I would be delighted to come to such an important event.”

“I know it will be hard to have you included in most aspects of the planning,” you explain, wanting to make sure she understands how much you’ve thought about this. “So I wanted to have to you included in the most important ones.”

“And I would have understood if you hadn’t included me at all.” She folds you into another warm hug. “Thank you. And I have something for you.”

“Oh?” In all the commotion you can’t think what it would be — after all, you and Marcus had specified that gifts were not necessary in your invitations for tonight.

She pulls back and reaches into her purse for a card. "I know that we aren't supposed to bring gifts, but..." She looks fondly to where her husband and son are at the bar talking and smiling. "It's the groom's family's responsibility to take care of the rehearsal day and I want you to plan exactly what you want."

“Donna.” She knows very well that you and Marcus are doing well in your careers. Well enough to be able to build a house and plan for a family and all sorts of other things. “You really didn’t have to.”

"Yes we did." She tells you with a small smirk. "You have made Marcus completely happy and that is worth more to me than the national debt your mother inherited."

There is the barest moment of pause before you snort, and you and Donna both bust out giggling. “Well, thank you.” You’ll open the envelope later with Marcus, but for now you give her a very tight hug. “I’m sure everything will go smoothly. It’s just the nerves of everything.”

“Anything else we can help you with?” There’s the briefest flash of unhappiness on your face before you hug her and she knows it’s nothing between you and Marcus that caused it.

"Not at all." Their being here is wonderful, and they're helping financially when they're not obligated to. That is more than enough. "Why don't we grab you a drink and we can take a look around. The view from here is beautiful."

“You have chosen a gorgeous venue.” She marvels, even as the people working continue to bustle around to put the event together.

After procuring a glass of the same spiked hot apple cider that you're drinking for Donna, you turn to look around the lawn with her and actually let yourself smile. "We were here for a day out after our goddaughter was born and we fell in love with it," you tell her. "It was perfect, so we dove in and talked to their event coordinator that day."

“It’s a mixture of homey and sophisticated.” She admires. “I think it’s very fitting for the two of you.”

"I think that's sort of the vibe we're going for with everything," you admit, sipping your drink beside her. "Comforting and fun Americana, but a little sophisticated."

“I think that you’ve nailed it, love.” She agrees, taking a sip of her drink and humming in approval.

"I'm really glad you're here." And while you know that isn't something a lot of people say to their in–laws, you count yourself as lucky. "And I'm just as excited for tomorrow as I have been for tonight."

“I am too.” She admits with a grin. “I am just happy to be included.”

On the edge of the lawn, nearest the parking lot, Annette has intercepted the first batch of friends and family to arrive with a plan and a spark in her eyes. "Alex! June!" She knows the First Children well, and Sydney Badillo as well, flagging down the new mother and her husband when they get out of their car. "I'm very glad to see you all."

“I wonder what this is about.” Juan murmurs to his wife, taking her hand after he rounds the front of the car. “I don’t know.” Sydney frowns slightly, knowing that you hadn’t said much about Annette doing the publicity for the party, but it’s unusual to have her meet them out in the parking lot. “But we will find out.” She murmurs before sending the older woman a warm smile. “Annette! Lovely to see you.”

Alex’s soulmate David, his brother Noah, and Junie’s soulmate all pile out of the cars as well, followed closely by the arrival of Marcus’s cousin Selena and his friends that had moved to DC. This is Annette’s army assembled, and she smiles at the large group. “I wonder if I could ask a favor of all of you?” She poses, knowing there will be a few skeptics in any group. “We’ve had a little mix up here tonight but everything will go smoothly will your help.”

“What happened?” Alex demands, aware more than Junie about all the negative press surrounding you and Marcus lately. He and David both agree it’s a smear campaign.

“It’s not necessary to go into deep detail,” Annette insists. She doesn’t want anyone being pointed or cruel tonight. “But there is someone trying to claim that Birdie and Marcus stole this venue from them for an event tonight. They don’t have any proof that they booked it, of course, but I suspect they’ll try to go to the media with a story for the morning. So I was hoping I could get all of you onto your social media accounts tonight with positive posts from the party and a few mentions about how excited you’ve been for this?”

“Done.” Junie immediately agrees. “I’ve got photos of the invitations to the party when I opened them. I’ll post those with the ‘it’s finally the day!’ theme.”

“We’re on it. A hundred percent.” Alex agrees, glancing up at David and getting a nod from his partner. They don’t have to be told to know who is behind this, and they’re going to do their part to stop the stupidity.

“Do we have an official Insta for Birdie’s wedding?” Junnie asks. “Or should we tag mom’s White House account?”

“Definitely tag the White House.” Annette nods, but she chewed over the question. “But we should do a tag for the event, and maybe a tag for the First Kids? What do you think?”

“It is our sister.” Alex muses. “We should also do a tag for the engagement. Something like fairytale2017 or something as equally disgustingly cute.”

“Maybe we could think of something unique and a little catchy?” Sydney suggests, pulling out her phone. “Something we can use through all the events?”

“Birdie&Marcus’TilEternity?” Junie offers, a slightly dreamy smile as she thinks about soulmates. Since discovering her own, she’s become more of a romantic.

“It’s a little long…” Alex chews on the thought. “FirstWife2018? Like a reference to being the First Daughter?”

Sydney laughs softly, shaking her head. “It would work,” she admits with another laugh. “Except he’s been married before. So technically she’s the second wife.”

“We will come up with something.” Annette agrees. “May I text you all when it’s decided.”

“Of course.” Selena nods her head along with several of the others. “We already have a group chat for planning their combined bachelor/bachelorette party. We can do a version of that group that has you in it, too? In case you need us again.”

“That would be perfect.” Annette agrees. “I will not text without a good reason, I promise.”

There is a little bit of back and forth conversation, but Alex adds Annette’s number to a new group chat with everyone involved and renames the new group Mythbusters with a giggle.

“Oh that’s good.” Sydney snorts when the welcome text pings through and quickly responds with who she is so Annette can associate numbers with names.

“It’s the Congressman, isn’t it?” Selena asks, saving Annette’s number to her phone like the others.

Her brow wings up, nothing getting by the friends and family you have, but she doesn’t answer in the affirmative. “We would just like to get ahead of any potential issues a quickly as possible.”

“That’s yes, in White House Staffer,” June translates for anyone who isn’t familiar. “And I can finally say with glee that something about that guy always felt off to me.”

“I tolerated him.” Sydney admits. “I know Birdie would huff, but he just always was so smug. I wanted to slap him.”

Alex offers here a high five for that and Juan nods in agreement while Annette bites her lip from saying anything unprofessional. “How about something cheeky?” She suggests after a moment, when the murmurs about disliking Congressman Chase have subsided. “The press called her the First Princess after she and Agent Pike were photographed dancing together. Maybe we can do something with that?”

“#PrincessPike2018.” Sydney supplies immediately and Juan chuckles. “They will love it and she will be a tiny bit embarrassed when it trends.”

“Which is perfect.” Selena agrees. She’s taken to this new group of friends like a duck to water, sense of humor included. “We can also do a plain and simple #PikeWedding2018 for all the event photos we’ll end up posting.”

Juan nods. “Well, the official day should have the hashtag #WhiteHouseWedding2018.” He offers.

“Perfect.” Annette agrees with that right away. It’s good social media coverage in every way. Let’s use #PrincessPike for anything relating to Birdie as a bride, #PikeWedding for planning and events, and then #WhiteHouseWedding for the day.”

“That sounds like a plan.” Everyone nods as Sydney answers. “We will start posting things now. Tagging them and Monticello for the engagement party.”

“I appreciate all your help.” Annette steps away, as if she is releasing the group into the wild. “We’ll nip this in the bud and have fun doing it.”

“Is there anything else we can do?” Junie asks seriously, her hand in her soulmates and looking determined.

“Help your sister have a great time.” Annette tells her seriously. “Right now she’s a bit stressed, and nervous. Just go celebrate with your family and she’ll feel better being surrounded by it all.”

“That’s easy to do.” Alex grins. “Come on, Junie.” He chuckles. “Let’s go lovingly bully our older sister.”

"Baby, come here. You have to try one of these." The catering company had agreed to tweak their stuffed mushroom recipe to meet the one created by the Kennedy family's personal chef as written down in his cookbook, and the result is absolutely stellar. "Tell me this isn't the best stuffed mushroom you've ever had in your life."

He hasn't strayed from your side for more than a few steps, so it's easy to come closer. Grinning as he opens up for you to feed him one of the stuffed mushrooms, closing his eyes in utter delight as the flavors burst on his tongue. "Oh god, we are keeping the leftovers, right?" He moans.

"Absolutely." You grin and giggle a little that his face matches yours perfectly. They're little bites of heaven. "I have half a mind to have these at the wedding, too."

"We should." He agrees quickly, picking up another bite off the table and offering it to you since you sacraficed one of your mushrooms for him.

Without looking, he has grabbed one of the little cornbread cups filled with pulled pork with has been your other favorite bite at the beginning of the party. You hum around the delicious choice and sigh happily. "Everyone seems to be having fun. And the band is great, thankfully."

"They are good." Marcus has been impressed with the range of songs they can play, but it's to be expected for a good wedding band. "I'm so glad that tonight has gone off with little more than a slight hitch." He leans in and kisses your cheek. "Everything worked out."

"Fingers crossed that the rest of the night runs as smoothly." It's almost time to start dinner, which will surely come with a couple of speeches but should be a beautiful meal. This catering company is fantastic and the two sisters that run it deserves as much recognition as you can possibly heap on them. They, along with the band, will hopefully get lots of coverage from the White House.

"It will." Marcus doesn't mention that there is the best security that could possibly be provided by the Secret Service at this event. He pecks your lips. "Tonight is amazing and it will continue to be so."

"Are you sure about that?" Having not seen her in a while, it is a surprise when you glance past his shoulder and see Vanessa approaching from the corner of the lawn.

Marcus hisses a quiet sigh and squeezes your hand. "I'll ask her to leave and then I'll have someone escort her out." He tells you quietly, waiting for you to agree with a quick nod before he moves to intercept her.

"I come in peace." Vanessa insists, holding up a hand briefly as though it were a white flag.

"I'm not sure that I believe that." He admits, not calling security over simply to avoid a scene. If he can get her to leaving willingly, it would look better.

"I just came to tell you that my vendors are packed up and we're leaving the premises." She's feeling deflated and frankly embarrassed by being stuck in the middle without any kind of life preserver. The shouting match she had with Sam over the phone inside the Visitor Center did not help. At this point she just wants to go home and open a bottle of wine.

His brow lifts in surprise, sure that she would once again insist that this was their venue. "I have to say....I'm surprised that no guests of the Congressman have shown up." He comments quietly. "It's…almost as if they weren't invited."

"Please don't prod at me." Vanessa huffs, shaking her head slightly. At this point being kicked while she's down would be deserved but humiliating. "I just spent forty minutes making phone calls and having arguments. I have no idea what happened, but it's–it is what it is."

"I'm sorry." Marcus apologizes and bites his lip for a moment. "Why don't you join us for a drink?" He offers, motioning towards the bar. "I'm sure you could use one?" He wants to know what has transpired but he also wants to prove that, despite everything, you and Marcus are not her enemy.

"That...doesn't feel appropriate." It's kind of him, but Marcus is kind. That is part of him. "You guys enjoy your party. It...it looks nice. And the hashtags are a cute touch. Very media friendly." Vanessa sighs again and her deflation happens all over again. "I should...I should go. There are campaign events to plan. Even if this one sort of...imploded."

"Listen...." Marcus frowns slightly and looks over at where you are watching him with avid interest. "I know that we are kind of on opposite sides of the sand, but Birdie and I— we aren't— we don't wish you and the congressman anything more than happiness." He offers softly.

"It's all a little complicated," she admits, though she doesn't relish it. "Sam feels so strongly about this whole situation having two sides but I have to admit that I feel like that attitude is starting to do more harm than good."

"I think it is too." He agrees, nodding and offering her a small smile. "If you need anything..." The offer dies, unspoken, but it's there in case she needs it. Vanessa bites her lip and looks conflicted so Marcus takes that as his cue. "Have a good night, Vanessa." He offers before he turns back to return to your side.

"Is everything okay?" There wasn't any shouting or any real fighting that you could see, but Marcus looks upset when he comes back to you.

“Yeah, it’s good.” Marcus reassures you, rubbing your shoulder and bringing you closer for a kiss. “I think – I hope – that she’s starting to see the light in this entire situation.”

“Some cracks in the shiny veneer of it all?” You feel bad honestly. Vanessa might be blindly loyal but she never seemed outright cruel to you.

“I think so.” He hums. “She desperately wanted her soulmate, so I think she justified a lot in her mind.”

“I feel so bad.” There are a lot of people in the world who suffer in different ways for want of their soulmate, and Vanessa might not be your favorite person but she still doesn’t deserve to have that kind of pain.

“I do too.” Marcus admits, but he shrugs. “No one ever said every soulmate match was good.”

“I’m just glad I have you.” Your arm around his waist and your head momentarily on his chest are so grounding and so incredible calming. Just because you could weather the storm of the old without him by your side doesn’t mean you ever, ever want to. Not anymore. Not now that you know how much better it can be. “I love you, Marcus. More than words.”

“You are part of me.” He promises. “My soul, my heart, my thoughts.” He smiles softly, unaware that the moment is being photographed and posted online with the captions declaring true love was real.

“I’m stealing that for my wedding vows,” you chuckle softly, admittedly because you’re so choked up in the moment.

“Steal away, sweetheart.” He kisses your forehead and sighs, letting the problems of the day fade and just reminding himself that everything is perfect now. He has you.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

HHL: @haileymorelikestupid @anoverwhelmingdin @storiesofthefandomlovers @missladym1981 @babeincolor @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

My Masterlist!

#Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #The Mentalist #soulmate au #First Daughter reader #Juan Badillo #Graceland #Juan Badillo x f!OC #Juan Badillo x OC #PrincessPike2018 #PikeWedding2018 #WhiteHouseWedding2018

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myloveistoolittle · 1 year ago

Text

Closed Position: Week 3 (Cha Cha Part 1)

Closed Position Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist Dieter Bravo x OFC (Katarina)

Series Summary: Dieter Bravo, now sober, was looking to change his bad boy image after hitting rock bottom. His team hoped that having him join the nationally televised family friendly dance competition, Dancing with the Stars, would be a good first step, if they can keep him out of trouble.

Katarina Stamos expected her last season as a professional dancer on the show to go the same as it had for the past thirteen seasons. That all changed when she was partnered with the infamous Dieter Bravo.

Dieter and Katarina are reluctantly thrown into their partnership and must learn to work together to succeed in the competition. In the process they form a deeper connection beyond the dance floor that neither anticipated.

Chapter Word Count: 9.9k

👉 Warnings: Themes dealing with intimate partner violence, past alcohol abuse, and past drug abuse. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn. Read at your own risk. Dieter Bravo comes with his own warnings. 👉 Chapter Warnings: Intimate partner violence, mentions of blood and injury.

Chapter Quote: “Bravo…that’s almost obscene.”

The last few days had been a lot. Alec seemed to be getting more possessive over me when Dieter was around. It was causing an uneasiness to creep in, and I didn’t really know how to handle it. I was beginning to get a sense that it was eventually going to build up to something bad if he didn’t tone it down. I hated it. It made me feel like I had to filter things or behave in a certain way when it came to Dieter.

I found myself wanting to protect Dieter from any negativity that might be thrust upon him. That urge became clearer to me while we were waiting for our spray tans. One of the PAs had made a nasty comment to him about his past that was completely unnecessary. Dieter took it all in stride and was nice about it even though he had every right not to be. I nearly said something to the girl, but Alec stopped me, grabbing my wrist and squeezing tightly as a warning to stay out of it. He had to make matters worse by laughing at the interaction. I actually felt ashamed to be associated with him at that moment. It was clear that the comment had upset Dieter. I could see the hurt etched on his face. I wanted to check in with him and make sure he was ok, but Alec stepped between us, blocking me from going to him. He did it casually, but I knew he was doing it on purpose.

Luckily, we were soon interrupted by staff calling us in for our spray tans, giving me an opportunity to think through the incident without Alec being in my face. The only thought I could focus on was finding Dieter to check on him. As soon as I was finished, I hurried back to my dressing room to change, then went to Dieter’s. I felt relief washing over me when I heard his voice through the door telling me to come in. I took a quick look around to make sure Alec wasn’t lurking before I entered and closed the door behind me.

I wasn’t expecting the sight that greeted me. Dieter was sitting in the chair in front of the vanity, wearing only his robe and black boxer briefs. The robe was hanging open at his sides as he sat slouched against the backrest of the seat with his legs spread wide. The way he was slouching had the robe hanging open completely. I could see all of him. As if his toned chest and soft tummy wasn’t already haunting my thoughts, I could now add his thick thighs and generously sized bulge to the visuals. I found myself having the sudden urge to stand between his open legs and straddle his hips.

I was snapped out of my thoughts by Dieter apologizing and tying the robe shut. I could feel my face heating, realizing he probably noticed that I was basically salivating over him. I managed to pull my thoughts together enough to remember why I was there and asked him if he was ok. He seemed unphased by it now, but I knew it bothered him. I knew he didn’t like to show when he was upset. It wasn’t the first time I had witnessed him brushing things off like they were not that big of a deal. I ended up letting it go, not wanting to pry. He knew I was there for him if he wanted to talk about it.

I changed the subject by asking him about his feelings regarding our upcoming performance. Something shifted between us then. As his brown eyes stared into mine, an odd tension formed, tugging me toward him. I wanted to feel his warm skin, to run my fingers through his messy curls while taking his pillowy bottom lip between mine. I needed to get out of the room. I soon said my goodbyes, then he stunned me by asking if I was going with Alec. Butterflies formed in my stomach over the question. He seemed pleased when I said I was going home, alone. The thought that he cared excited me more than it should have.

I chastised myself the whole drive home. I needed to get these thoughts out of my head. It wasn’t right and it wasn’t fair to Alec, especially since I was still punishing him over his past behaviors. What I was doing wasn’t much better. Then again, they were just thoughts. I hadn’t actually acted on them like he had. I could control myself and be loyal to him, even if he didn’t do the same for me.

When I received the ‘thank you’ text from Dieter later that evening, my heart broke for him a little. I knew it probably took a lot for him to send me that message and I hated that he felt like he didn’t have many people in his corner. I had to reword my reply several times, suddenly feeling the need to establish a boundary. It was more for me than anything. It was necessary, but I would be lying if I said it didn’t break me a little. That one word, friend, said so many things without saying anything at all, and they all felt like lies.

Monday morning, I managed to get myself together and focus on the performance. I was in competition mode, arriving early to speak with the band and lighting teams before any of the other couples. Dieter arrived soon after I did. I could tell he was nervous, and I did what I could to help alleviate his anxiety. I made sure to talk him through everything that was happening and let him know what to expect. During our first run through, I was quick to throw out some verbal cues, realizing that the band’s version of the song was messing him up a little. However, once he picked it up, he was good to go.

The rest of the morning might as well have been an out of body experience. It went by so fast it almost didn’t seem real. Dieter and I did have a moment during our final fittings. I ended up telling him about my arthritis issues, reasoning that he probably needed to know anyway. I knew it would inevitably become a problem the longer we stayed in the competition. It would be an obstacle that we would have to overcome together if we wanted to make it to the end. I felt the need to thank him for trusting my abilities and for trusting me with his sobriety. His confidence in me really did mean a lot, probably more than he realized.

At some point in the day, I noticed Anika eyeing Dieter. She was becoming more obvious about it as the day went on. Anika was known for doing the bidding of the producers, so I was always wary of her intentions. I didn’t trust the girl. The fact that she was infamous for partying gave me all sorts of red flags. I was worried she would try to pull Dieter into something that would result in a tabloid frenzy and ultimately threaten his sobriety. I felt the need to warn Dieter about her, but he seemed to already be aware of her partying ways. It made my stomach flutter a little to know that he wasn’t interested, even though she was completely gorgeous.

I was surprised when Dieter went into details about his dating life and how forthcoming he was about his history. I could feel my heart clenching in my chest as he told me that he never had a real relationship - always feeling like he was being used for gains which made it hard for him to trust anyone. Yet, he trusted me. I could feel the weight of his trust bearing down on me at that moment. I never wanted to let him down - whether it be as a friend or otherwise.

Once showtime finally rolled around, I could tell that Dieter was still nervous when I left him for the group performance. So, I made a point to grab my phone before I went to meet back up with him in the staging area. I had a feeling he would appreciate some hype music. I wanted to help him loosen up so he could enjoy the experience. It seemed to work like a charm as he joined in with me, moving to the beat of the song.

We were all smiles as we took our places on the dance floor, buzzing from excitement and the energy in the room. I’m not sure what happened once the music started. The chemistry between us sparked and was unlike anything I had ever felt. It had never been like that with Alec, and at one time, I didn’t think anything could beat the high I used to get with him. However, Dieter was somehow exceeding it. His eyes had turned into dark pools of emotion that I could have gotten lost in if given the chance. Feeling his hands on the bare skin of my back had me burning for more. I didn’t want him to ever stop touching me. It was a craving that couldn’t be satiated in its current form. I could have done this with him all night, but it came to an end all too quickly.

I could still feel the ghost of his fingertips on my back as we waited for our scores. It took everything in me to put that feeling out of my consciousness. I don’t think I heard half of what he said during the interview. All I could focus on was the heat of his hand in mind - wondering what those hands would feel like roaming other parts of my body. I finally snapped back to reality once they got ready to announce our scores.

I knew we had done well, but I was shocked over the numbers. I had never scored that high since joining the cast. It was a testament to how amazing Dieter was and the strong connection we were already forming. I knew the connection would only get stronger from here, which was concerning. I knew I needed to get my attraction to him under control before it got out of hand.

My thoughts shifted again after Alec’s performance. He and Lana clearly had a strong connection too. It was hard for me to not imagine the worst, but I really had no reason to. Yet, anyway. I was a little concerned that they seemed to be our biggest rivals and silently hoped it wasn’t going to cause more tension between Alec and me. We weren’t usually competitive. Then again, I had never been placed with a partner that was able to be. It would create a new dynamic for sure and probably only fuel his dislike of Dieter to another level.

Dieter seemed to be in good spirits when he arrived for our Tuesday morning production meeting with Stacia and Joe. He entered the lobby with a glowing smile on his face and a coffee in each hand, passing one to me as he sat in the seat beside me. I couldn’t help smiling back at him as I took in how his deep purple v-neck t-shirt hugged his arms and chest. His hair was messy, but somehow looked like it was styled that way. The soft looking texture of it was making my fingers twitch, begging to touch the silky waves. After realizing I had been staring without actually saying anything to him, I finally managed to squeak out, “How are you feeling after the first performance?”

He laughed, “I was so amped up last night after I got home…I had trouble falling asleep. I still can’t believe our scores. This whole experience is just insane. I was really expecting to make a fool of myself”

His eyes were bright as he spoke, a childlike excitement clear on his face. He’s too fucking adorable. I chuckled, “I admit, I was pretty amped up too. I’ve never had scores that good the first round…or ever, actually. I’m just afraid of what that means for us going forward in these meetings. You know they’re definitely gonna have an agenda now.”

Dieter raised his brows, inhaling deeply before he responded, “Yeah…well, let them. Doesn’t mean we have to play into it. As long as we stay on the same page, I don’t think it’ll be that big of an issue.”

I pursed my lips and nodded as one of the PA’s came out to say they were ready for us. Dieter followed behind me into the conference room. I felt his hand on my lower back as I nearly bumped into him in my attempt to get the chair to scoot out from under the table so I could sit. I glanced up at him with a small smile and apologized. He reached down and gave the chair a yank to get it to scoot out for me. Stacia and Joe watched us as we got settled, silently exchanging glances with each other. Once we were finally situated across the table from them, Stacia gave us a bright smile before she spoke, “Well, it looks like you two are the stars of the show this season. The fans are buzzing on social media.” Her eyes focused on Dieter, “It seems you're a favorite with the ladies…for several reasons. We might have to play that up a little.”

Dieter’s brows furrowed, “Do I even wanna know what that means?”

Joe chuckled as Stacia leaned forward with an amused look, “You know…turn up the sex appeal. More open buttons, maybe some sheer tops.”

Dieter rolled his eyes and huffed out a sarcastic, “Yeah…ok.”

Joe was looking at me now, “Kat, it seems you were a stand out in the group performances too. Everyone was talking about how you stole the show. We may have to put a little more focus on you since that’s what the people want.”

I could feel my eyebrows raise up to my hairline. What the fuck is this? I didn’t even bother to respond. I glanced over at Dieter, who was staring across the table with a smug look on his face, which I found to be odd. I turned back to Stacia and Joe just in time to catch them eyeing each other for a moment before either of them spoke again. I could feel Dieter’s leg bumping against mine under the table. He cut his eyes toward me briefly, pursing his lips. I gave him a look that said, “Yeah, I caught it too” before my focus shifted back to them. They looked like they were trying to decide who should breach the next subject. It was finally Stacia who broke the silence, “So, another hot topic was the chemistry between you two. Honestly, it surprised the hell out of us…I most definitely didn’t see it coming, buuut you two are amazing together.”

I glanced over at Dieter, his eyes were narrowed as he glared at Stacia. Geez he looks pissed. It was my turn to bump his leg. It gave him a start, but he got the hint and diverted his gaze, suddenly interested in his fingernails. I stared at Stacia with a neutral expression, waiting for her to get to the point. When we didn’t say anything, her confidence seemed to falter.

“Given that…perhaps you two could play it up for the cameras a bit. Especially during rehearsal filming. You’ve both been pretty tame so far.” She added.

I furrowed my brows, “Tame? What, you want us to be dancing monkeys? You know good and well I’m not doing that. We answer your questions, and we practice dancing. I don’t know what more you could possibly want.”

Joe leaned forward on his elbow, “Less focus and more passion…maybe a little flirting.”

I let out a sarcastic laugh, “That’s not gonna happen and you know why. Besides, it’s not like that with us. We’ve become close, yes…but as friends. Why can’t you just portray it as it is?”

Joe sighed, “Ok, maybe flirty was the wrong word…we can work with a buddy thing. Maybe have more fun while you do it? Just stop being so damn serious.”

Dieter smacked his hand down on the table, startling all of us. “You’ll get what you get. We’re taking this competition seriously. We don’t have rehearsal time to waste on your foolishness…I’m not gonna fake shit for your ratings and I'm not putting Kat in that position.”

Ok, so this is new, and I didn’t need to witness it because angry Dieter is fucking hot. My thighs involuntarily clenched together. I just stared at him, my mouth hanging open slightly. Based on the silent room, I had a feeling the other two were just as shocked as I was.

Dieter suddenly looked unsure of himself as he glanced over at my stunned face. We need to stick together on this. I peeled my eyes away from him to look at Stacia and Joe. I cleared my throat, “I agree with him. You’ll get what you get…but I will try to relax some while we’re filming. I do want them to stop asking us stupid questions though. You know the ones I’m referring to. It puts me in a bad mood.” Dieter pointed at me, nodding in agreement.

Stacia glared at me as Joe nodded. She knew she was going to have to let the whirlwind romance story go because we were not falling for it. She finally sighed and relented, “Fine, I’ll tell them to change their line of questioning…let things play out however they play out.” She rolled her eyes, opening her binder to sift through it, pulling out the mock ups for this week's costumes and sliding them over to us. “Anyway, here’s your costume sketches. We have you scheduled for the Cha Cha to She Bangs. You’ll be filming on Thursday again this week.” Great…getting into the Latin dances already. I glanced down at our costumes. Mine was a standard Latin style dress - short, low back, red, and lots of fringe. Dieter would have a fitted matching red suit with a dark zebra print shirt underneath. It gave off sort of a 70’s vibe.

Dieter glanced at me with questioning eyes. I shrugged, “I’m good with it.” Dieter nodded, “Me too.”

We sat in silence for a moment. It seemed like they didn’t have anything else to say. Dieter glanced between the three of us, “Are we done here?”

Stacia smirked, “Yeah, unless there’s anything else we need to discuss.” Why do I feel like she’s waiting for something? Dieter and I both shook our heads. He looked just as perplexed by her question as I was.

We shuffled out of the conference room in silence, neither of us saying anything until we were in the parking lot. He suddenly stopped and turned toward me, “The audacity of those people. I can’t believe they just asked us to do that. That’s putting you in a terrible situation. I don’t like it.”

I snorted, “Doesn’t surprise me in the least. There’s no telling what else they’re up to. I don’t think they’ll let it go that easily.”

He chewed on the inside of his cheek, nodding at my words, “I agree. I feel like there are shenanigans afoot with those two.”

I laughed loudly, “Shenanigans? Did you really just say shenanigans?”

He feigned offense, “Yes, ma’am I did. What of it?”

I chuckled, “That’s just a word I never thought I would hear out of Dieter Bravo’s mouth.”

A cheesy smile spread across his face. He seemed pleased with himself. We stared at each other for a beat, which caused the heat to pool at my center. I cleared my throat, “Well…you ready for some lunch?” My voice sounded off, lower. I felt like he noticed. His eyebrow twitched slightly as he stared at my face with a smoldering look in his eye, then nodded. I felt like I wanted to combust. Get your shit together Kat. “You wanna try that Mexican place on Spring Street?” He asked.

My lip turned upward on one side, “Sure…I’ll follow you.”

Lunch was interesting. Spending time with Dieter outside of rehearsals was definitely allowing things to evolve between us. I was getting to know him on another level. He spent at least fifteen minutes telling me about the different personalities of his plants. He talked about them like they were people, smiling shyly as he told me about his favorites. There was something incredibly endearing about it. I kept asking him questions just to keep him talking. My questions seemed to ignite an excitement in him, thrilled that I was showing interest in his hobby. The care and attention that he seemed to lavish on his plants was surprising to me. I was quickly finding that Dieter Bravo was nothing like I expected. He was sweet and attentive. There was a tenderness to him that sort of melted my heart.

Before we knew it, it was time to leave for rehearsals. I was almost sad that our free time had to end. I felt an overwhelming need to know more about his personal life. To know him - his likes, his dislikes. Everything. He was my new favorite puzzle, and I was dying to fit all the pieces together. I found myself already longing for our next lunch outing.

Once we got to the studio, we both got changed before settling in to listen to our track and talk through our plans for the performance. Dieter sat quietly, listening to the lyrics a few times, finally speaking up to voice his thoughts.

“I think we should play up the lyrics a bit…not the surface level sex appeal of it. I think it’s a little deeper than that. The guy is clearly in love with this woman, she’s become his whole universe. He wants to be with her, but she’s blowing him off. So, there’s kind of a pining there. He’s gonna do everything he can to win her over. You know what I mean?”

He rubbed at his lips and chin as he spoke, it was distracting, but his words still held my attention. Damn. Who knew Dieter Bravo could get deep with a Ricky Martin song? My brows arched, surprised by his analysis. My mouth also went a little dry realizing what it meant.

“I think that’s a good evaluation. So…yeah…let’s play into that. You lavish me with love and affection, and I’ll be dismissive about it.” I wanted to disappear as soon as the words left my mouth. I cringed. Dieter stared at me with that cocky smirk of his as his left brow twitched upward slightly, “I think that’s exactly how we should do it.”

I nodded slowly, “Ok…so, let’s go over the Cha Cha basics before we get too far into things. There are certain moves that we’ll want to incorporate that the judges will be looking for.”

Dieter followed me to the center of the dance floor. I could tell from his reflection in the mirrored wall that his eyes were on me the entire time. He had an intense look on his face as I turned to face him. His eyebrows arched as his gaze settled on my face.

“So, the Cha Cha is a Latin style dance that originated from Cuba. The characteristics of the dance are fast, sharp, and crisp movements with a heel to toe lead. The heel to toe allows you to follow through with straight legs. Straightening and bending the knees is gonna give the Cuban movement the dance is known for. We’ve gotta be expressive with our full body and arms to pull it off correctly.”

As I was explaining the movements, I went through the motions slowly, so that he could see what I was saying as I said it. I paused briefly to make sure he was following because he was starting to look a little overwhelmed, but he insisted he was good. I then went into showing him different types of hip movements and added the steps for cuban breaks, compact chassis, and New Yorkers. I had him go through the steps slowly afterward. He seemed to pick them up quickly, but his movements were a little rigid and still needed work. I figured it would come easier to him the more we got into it, especially when he was more relaxed and less fixated on how he was moving.

We threw ourselves into building the routine after that. Dieter seemed more unsure of himself as the morning went on. This wasn’t the Foxtrot. Latin dances by default had a sexual undertone and sensuality to them that I don’t think he was prepared for.

“Ya know, you’re gonna have to touch me to do this correctly, right? I need to trust that you’re not gonna drop me. Stop hesitating”

“I guess I didn’t realize how intimate this was gonna be. I feel like I need to at least buy you dinner first or something.” He let out a low chuckle at himself, avoiding my gaze. I rolled my eyes and smirked at his flustered and embarrassed expression. He continued to surprise me. He really was nothing like the tabloids made him out to be. He’s much more of a gentleman than I would have guessed.

I stared at him for a beat, momentarily distracted by the idea of a dinner date with him and the sweaty curls that were hanging down over his forehead before I could formulate my response. I briefly wondered how gentlemanly he was in bed…I shook my head slightly to clear it. Don’t go there Kat. I puffed air out of my cheeks before finally speaking.

“You didn’t realize? Surely you realized…you’re gonna be touching my thighs, hips, ass, waist, and on occasion, there may be an accidental boob graze. You need to get over that fast or this isn’t gonna work. I promise, it’s not a problem unless you’re intentionally copping a feel.”

Who am I kidding? I’d probably let him. Dieter appeared to be more embarrassed by my words as his face turned pink. He nodded in understanding. His big brown eyes were rounded as we moved back to our starting position. He placed his hands lightly on my hips, clearly not taking my advice. I moved my hands to rest atop his and added pressure, indicating how tight his grip should be. Without letting go, I moved backwards, closer to his front because he was still standing too far away. I could feel his entire body stiffen slightly as his searing heat pressed into me from head to toe. My hands tingled where they were connected with his. It was at that moment that I realized being paired with this man was potentially going to be a problem. I couldn’t deny it anymore. Something was brewing just under the surface, threatening to spill over at any moment.

When we got into the steps that involved hip movements, Dieter was having a hard time. He watched me with a furrowed brow as I again explained and demonstrated the proper way he needed to pop his hips. He looked a little overwhelmed as he watched me, his mouth hanging open slightly.

“You’re too stiff. You need to relax some and let those loose hips do their thing.” I had to mentally berate myself because my mind went spiraling after those words left my mouth.

Dieter chuckled, “This is ridiculous. Here I was thinking I was gonna be like Johnny and have all the moves, but instead I feel like Baby carrying the fucking watermelons.”

I snorted, “I’ll withhold my crude watermelon joke because it’d be inappropriate…”

It was Dieter’s turn to snort, “I can’t believe you just went there.”

I shrugged, still laughing, “Look, nobody puts Baby in the corner…right? I’m not gonna let anyone put Bravo in the corner either. We’re gonna get this. Just relax some. I don’t understand why you're so tense today. I know you move better than this.”

He grimaced, “I know…I think I’m just getting in my head about it. I’m not focused on the right things…”

I arched a brow at him, “What are you focused on then?”

His eyes widened. He had sort of an odd expression on his face, “Umm…just…you know…”

I shook my head, “No, I don’t. Please enlighten me.”

Dieter sighed heavily, searching for his words. “Well…I don’t wanna make an ass of myself…”

I grabbed his arm and peered up at him, “Hey, I told you. I’ve got you.”

He gave me a small smile. I pulled my hand away, “Let’s take a break…give you a minute to clear your head.”

He nodded, then moved over toward his gym bag and collapsed rather dramatically on the floor next to it, “I can see why you say the Latin dances do a number on you. My hips and lower back are not happy.”

I smiled, moving to grab my water bottle, “I told you. That’s why I’ve been on you about stretching.”

He rolled his eyes and groaned as he shifted to get something out of the bag.

“You want a snack?” He asked.

I chuckled, “Whatcha got?”

He gasped dramatically, “Well damn, why didn’t I think of this sooner!”

I gave him an amused look, “What?”

His eyes lit up, “I promised you a nickname. I finally have it!”

He turned the plastic wrapper around to show it to me with a big ass grin on his face. It was a king sized Kit Kat bar.

I sighed, my lips set into a tight line. I was not amused. “You wanna name me after something you like to eat?”

He chuckled before plopping a piece of the chocolate into his mouth and wagged his brows at me, “My favorite thing to eat…”

Fucking hell. I felt my whole core clench. I pursed my lips, “Bravo…that’s almost obscene.”

He snorted out a laugh, “Geez, your mind is in the gutter today. That’s not what I meant.”

I shook my head, “That’s gonna be a no for me. Be more creative.” I wasn’t going to be able to hear that name without thinking of him saying it was his favorite thing to eat. It would wreck me.

Dieter sighed, “Nope. Not gonna do it. I’m sticking with it and you're gonna love it.”

I huffed out a laugh, “This might be what gets you throat punched. Consider this your warning.”

He snickered, shoving another big piece in his mouth before sucking chocolate off his fingers. I suddenly had that down-low tingly feeling from watching the way his lips wrapped around and latched onto his large digits. My mind immediately took that visual and ran with it. Fuck, I can’t take much more of this. He held up the rest of the bar that was still in the wrapper and offered it to me. I gave him a polite “no thanks” before turning away, attempting to get that image of him out of my head. This is beyond ridiculous. I was going to need a cold shower tonight.

We got back to it after that. Dieter was doing better, but still seemed restrained. We surprisingly managed to plan out most of the routine. He was very involved with that process this time, seeming to feel more comfortable with expressing his ideas. It was some progress at least.

By the time I got home that evening, my whole body was beginning to ache. I could already tell the coming weeks were going to be rough on me. I just really hoped I could keep it together to make it to the end if we didn’t get voted out. I had a quick dinner, took some anti-inflammatories, then ran myself a steaming Epsom salt bath.

Soon after I got settled into the tub, I got a text from Alec asking if he could come over and spend some time with me. I sighed. I wasn’t sure if I had it in me to deal with him. I knew he would end up wanting to have sex and I didn’t have the energy for it. Suddenly, curious to how he would respond, I started typing.

Me: I’m aching and not feeling great after rehearsals. We got stuck with a Latin routine this week. I’m just going to relax for a bit then go to bed. I wouldn’t mind if you came over to cuddle and watch Netflix or something though.

The status changed to read immediately, but it took him a few minutes to reply.

Alec: No, that’s ok baby. You rest. Get to bed early. I know that wears you down. I’ll see you tomorrow.

Part of me was happy Alec wasn’t coming over. The other half was disappointed that he didn’t want to make a fuss over it and pamper me. Then again, he had never really been the type to do that. So, I shouldn’t have been surprised. Being hyper aware of my growing attraction to Dieter was causing me to realize some things. The qualities that I was discovering about him made me realize where Alec was lacking. I wasn’t really sure what that meant. Did I want something else now? Or was this just the product of the situation we found ourselves in?

My thoughts shifted to how Dieter had been so unsure of himself today. He had been so nervous with me. He was going to have to learn how to relax and get over his physical contact phobia. It wasn’t the first time I had been faced with this problem. I needed to get him in a less formal setting so he could chill and have a little fun. Somewhere that had a lot of energy to feed off of.

I grabbed my phone and pulled up Dieter’s number.

Me: We’re going on a field trip tomorrow, so don’t show up in your gym clothes. Just bring them with you, we can change later.

Dieter: Interesting…I’m not gonna go missing over the Kit Kat thing, right? I’m telling my assistant that I’ll be with you, just so you know. We have a buddy system.

I snorted. That wasn’t the reply I was expecting. I loved his sense of humor.

Me: If I wanted to make you disappear, I’d be stealthier about it. 😉 (winking emoji) Actually, there is this Latin dance club that I want to take you to. Let’s call it an immersive learning experience.

I smiled to myself as I hit send. The bubbles immediately began bouncing, indicating that he was typing out a reply.

Dieter: Sooo, what I’m getting from that is I get to experience a new form of torture. Got it. 👍 (thumbs up emoji)

Dieter: I’ll be sure to pregame with some pain relievers and a liter of water. 😂 (laughing with tears emoji)

I laughed, the smile stayed plastered across my face as I typed.

Me: Good. That means you’ll have no excuses for your whining then. I’ll meet you at the dance studio after group rehearsals.

Dieter: I’ll be there with my dancing shoes on. 🕺 (male disco dancer emoji)

Me: LOL. I’ll see you then. Goodnight.

Dieter: Goodnight, Kit Kat.

Me: 🖕 (middle finger emoji)

Dieter: I’ll pretend that’s a waving hand and not be offended.

Me: Whatever helps you sleep better. Goodnight. 😉 (winking emoji)

I was still smiling when I set my phone down. Now we were texting. I shook my head, realizing the lines were blurring. I sighed, hoping this didn’t turn into something that it shouldn’t.

The next morning seemed like it was dragging. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but I was excited about taking Dieter to the Latin club. It was a new experience with him, and I craved it. Which probably explains why each minute felt like an hour in group rehearsals. Stacia and Joe were true to their word, because I found myself front and center this week with Alec as my partner. He was in a grouchy mood, seeming to be hungover again and he was doing a terrible job. Dealing with him like this almost made the experience unbearable. I was tempted to ask for a different partner but didn’t want to get any rumors started. I half hoped the choreographer, Emily, would get sick of his shit and swap him out with someone, but she hadn’t yet. I could see the frustration on her face though. I wouldn’t have blamed her if she decided to make that change. Honestly, I probably would have welcomed it.

As I was gathering my things to leave, Alec was at my side, asking if he could stay with me tonight. He hadn’t even bothered to ask how I was feeling, which kind of rubbed me the wrong way. I relented, deciding that I did need to put in more of an effort if he was willing to. Though I wasn’t sure how much he was actually putting into things.

Luckily, we got out a little early so that I had time to run home to shower and make myself look a little more human. I threw on a simple knee length black cotton dress with flats, grabbed my bag, then headed out the door to meet Dieter. He was at the dance studio already, waiting in his car. As I approached, I noticed he had his head back on the headrest with his eyes closed. I startled him by pulling the passenger side door open and laughed loudly over his reaction.

“You know, you shouldn’t sit around with your doors unlocked. That’s how people go missing.”

He chuckled, “Noted.”

He gave me a timid smile as he ran his hands up and down his thighs, “You want me to drive?”

I shrugged and mumbled “sure” as I plopped down in the passenger seat.

I glanced over at him as he backed out of the parking spot, he had on black pants and a baby blue button up shirt that had a silky sheen to it. The sleeves were rolled up, of course. The color really made his golden skin tone stand out more than usual. He was also wearing a couple of rings that he typically didn’t have on. I don’t know why, but I found the rings to be kind of hot. They were causing my eyes to linger on his hands and how they made everything look so fucking small.

I noticed that he seemed more relaxed than he had been the previous day as he glanced over at me with a smile before pulling out onto the road, “Where are we going?” He asked.

“It’s that place on South Hill Street. You know it?”

He nodded, “I know enough to get us in the vicinity of it.”

I chuckled, glancing over at him again, “You look nice. Are those dress pants?”

He pursed his lips as he glanced down, “I’m not sure…I think they may actually be gym pants…but, they're cool and comfortable. That’s all I was worried about.”

He smiled my way as I laughed and shook my head at him. “Hey, it works. I get it. It’s the same reason I wore this,” I finally said.

Dieter stopped at a red light, then looked my way. “You look nice too. Even if you did dress for comfort.”

I rolled my eyes at him, “Thanks, I think.”

We sat in silence for a few minutes. The tension between us seemed to be growing. The lines felt like they were blurring again, but I didn’t really understand why. This wasn’t the first time I had taken a dance partner to this club for the same reasons, but they were not Dieter Bravo.

I cleared my throat, “I should probably mention, there is a bar here. It’s a big place though and it’s not really near the dance floor. I hope that isn’t an issue. I just now thought about it…”

He glanced over at me, a soft smile on his face. “Na, it’s fine. Not a big deal. I’ll be distracted.”

I turned, giving him a questioning look. His cheeks reddened slightly, “I just mean…I know we’re gonna be dancing. I’ll be focused on not falling on my face.”

I could feel my heart racing. Something told me he wasn’t being completely honest about that.

When we got to the club, Dieter moved to get in line. I shook my head and hooked my arm with his, “We don’t wait in line here. I know the owner.”

He smiled, seeming happy to not have to wait. We walked past the rather long line where I was certain I heard Dieter’s name whispered amongst the crowd. I silently hoped there wouldn’t be an issue as the person working the door allowed us to enter.

It was still early, but the dance floor was already full. The bass of the music was pounding so loud you could feel it. Strobe lights of all colors flashed over the dark dance floor. It was a whole vibe. A vibe that I hoped would allow Dieter to relax and have fun with me. Allow him to feel the music and become one with it and with me. I glanced up at him, he seemed anxious as he surveyed the space. My hand dropped from his arm down to his hand and squeezed it, prompting him to shift his gaze to me.

“You ready?” I asked.

I watched as he inhaled a deep breath and nodded. I pulled him along by the hand behind me as I walked toward the dance floor, letting the crowd swallow us. I started the shuffle steps of the Cha Cha and Dieter quickly fell into rhythm with me. He seemed almost timid as he moved and eyed the crowd around us. I reached up to cup his chin and pull his gaze back to mine, forcing him to look at me rather than everyone else. I gave him an encouraging smile as I stepped a little closer and leaned in toward his ear, “You need to loosen up. Focus on me and our connection…feel the music with me. Share the rhythm with me. Trust me…like I trust you.”

When I pulled away, I felt like he was staring into my soul with his rounded brown eyes as he nodded. We continued moving, and after several minutes he seemed to relax and get into it. Soon, we found ourselves laughing and having a good time. His hands no longer hesitated to rest on my hips or slide up my waist. He no longer pulled away when I turned, pressing my back to his front. He even went so far as to wrap his arms around me, hugging me against his chest. My head fell backward onto his shoulder as I laughed loudly over something he said. His rumbling laugh next to my ear momentarily distracted me, drawing my thoughts back to where they shouldn’t be. The lines felt fuzzy again. I needed a break.

After the song ended, I asked if he wanted some water. I had to put some distance between us for a few minutes before I did something stupid. I offered to get it because I didn’t want him going near the bar if he didn’t have to. As I made my way back to where I had left him on the edge of the dance floor, I realized he was taking pictures with a few fans. I guess it was inevitable that this would happen.

When I approached, the group surrounding him seemed to get excited once they realized it was me, asking for pictures with me as well. I, of course, agreed. Dieter and I also took a few group selfies with them. We chatted with them for a while. They were a good time, full of jokes and laughter. We even got into some dancing tips and showed them how to do a couple of moves. It was exactly the distraction I needed.

Dieter and I eventually made our way back out onto the dance floor, picking up where we left off. I took a minute to show him how to Salsa. He picked it up immediately. It almost seemed effortless now. We were moving together, communicating without words as he led us through various improvised moves. His hips were moving as I knew they could now that he was completely at ease. He was good at this, as good as some professionals I had seen. He just needed to let go and trust that I wouldn’t let him fail.

The energy in the room was definitely feeding the electricity between us. I could feel it ramping up the longer we went. After pulling me in against his body, then dipping me, something shifted. When he pulled me upward, a heated look passed between us before my forehead pressed against his. My right hand briefly cupped his cheek before sliding down to rest on his chest. I had to stop myself from leaning in further, turning away abruptly, feeling his hands trail down the sides of my body as I moved away from him toward the edge of the dance floor.

He had a boyish smile on his face when I turned to him. I couldn’t help smiling back as I asked, “You ready to head back to the studio to rehearse a little now? We’ll have a good two hours left.”

He nodded, grabbing my hand and following behind me as I walked toward the exit. Once outside, I looped my arm with his. There were several fans waiting in line that waved and called out to us as we walked by. We stopped for some quick selfies, then made our way back to his car, arm in arm.

The ride back to the studio wasn’t as awkward as I expected it to be. We laughed about some of the over the top outfits we had seen the other patrons wearing. Then our conversation shifted to the shock of how many fans there were that approached us. That had certainly never happened to me in the past. Sure, I might get one or two, but this was something else. I assumed it was because of Dieter. Everyone knew who he was.

We pulled into the parking lot at the rehearsal studio several minutes later. Dieter grabbed his bag out of the back seat as I moved to get mine out of my car. As we approached the entrance, I realized Alec was standing there, his back leaning against the wall as he eyed us. When I got closer, he pushed off the wall to come stand in front of me. He looked pissed.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked in a low voice.

My brow furrowed, “What do you mean?”

Dieter paused, a concerned look on his face as his eyes flicked between Alec and me. I glanced over at him, “I’ll meet you inside.” I gave a slight nod as I spoke, letting him know that it was ok to go in without me. He hesitated, but eventually moved toward the entrance.

Once Dieter was inside, Alec stepped in closer. “Why the hell are you going out with him when you should be rehearsing?” he asked with an accusatory tone.

What the fuck is his problem? I didn’t back away this time, “I took him to the Latin dance club. We have the Cha Cha this week. You know I do this with my partners sometimes to help them learn the dances. Why is it suddenly an issue?”

He was in my face now. I could smell alcohol on his breath, “I don’t want you going anywhere with him. You were supposed to be here. Why didn’t you tell me? I had to find out from social media.”

I scoffed, “What are you, my keeper now? I don’t question you about what you're doing with Lana. In fact, you don’t mention her at all, which is unusual. Maybe I should be asking you what you’re up to.”

His nostrils flared, “Why are you being such a defiant bitch lately? I feel like you're trying to provoke me. You always do this.”

I felt my jaw clench, “Don’t you fucking gaslight me. I’m not gonna keep doing this with you. This possessive and controlling behavior that you suddenly have, is only pushing me away. It’s not a good look for you.”

His hands suddenly gripped tightly at my upper arms. Before I realized what was happening, he turned us and shoved me, hard, against the brick wall. Hard enough that it knocked the air out of my lungs.

“I fucking told you to stop talking to me like that. I’ve been good for you. I’ve done everything you asked. Did you already forget how bad I can make things for you? Do I need to remind you, just so you’ll behave? I’m only gonna behave if you do, baby.”

I looked him in the eyes, pushing off the wall toward him as I finally spoke in a low voice, “I’m not afraid of you anymore. If you have a problem with me standing up for myself, then fuck you. Hit me. Do your worst. You do it, and I’m gone this time.”

“What the hell has gotten into you? Is it Bravo? You fucking him now?”

I snorted, “Are you kidding me? I’m not the one who has a cheating problem, Alec.”

He shoved me harder into the wall this time. Hard enough that my head smacked against the brick. Just as he got in my face again, he was pushed away. Nearly falling into the bushes next to the building. Suddenly Dieter was in front of me, one hand cupping my cheek with the other on the back of my head as he looked me over, asking if I was ok. All I could manage was a nod, still winded from hitting the wall so hard.

Alec came stumbling over toward us, “Fuck off Bravo, this is none of your business.”

Dieter scoffed, one hand still resting on the back of my head as he situated his body between Alec and me, “I’m not gonna stand by and watch someone get abused.”

Alec let out a sarcastic laugh, “Abused? Oh, did she tell you that’s what’s happening? It sounds like something she would say. She lies, you know. You can’t believe anything she says.”

Dieter let out a controlled breath as he turned to face the other man fully, “Alec, I think you’ve maybe had a little too much to drink, man. How about I get you an Uber or something? You can go home and sleep it off.”

Clearly Dieter wanted to diffuse the situation, which only seemed to piss Alec off further. Alec stood there in silence for a moment, an almost murderous look in his eyes as he stared at Dieter. Without warning, his fist swung toward Dieter’s face. I stood in shock, unable to move or react. Dieter’s reflexes were actually pretty impressive. He had somehow managed to dodge the punch and simultaneously jab Alec in the nose with what seemed like very little effort on his part. Dieter looked just as surprised by it as I was as Alec stumbled backward, grabbing at his face causing blood to run down between his fingers.

Dieter and I looked at each other, mouths agape as we looked back toward Alec. He spat out an angry, “What the fuck, Bravo!”

Dieter’s eyes widened, “Dude, you swung at me first. Don’t what the fuck me...”

Alec stumbled toward me, but Dieter stuck his arm out in front of me, pushing me behind him.

“Come on Kat, let’s get outta here.” Alec said as he motioned with his hand for me to come to him. I shook my head.

It was Dieter who spoke up, “She’s not going with you like this. Go home. Sleep it off.”

Alec’s brow furrowed as he wiped his face with one hand. Without another word, he walked off toward the parking lot. Once he was out of sight, Dieter turned and pulled me into a tight hug, “Are you sure you’re ok? It looked like you hit your head.” I nodded against his chest, trying to fight back the tears that were threatening to spill out. I pulled away, grabbing his wrist. His knuckles looked a little busted up and bruised. He squeezed his hand into a fist and tried to pull away, mumbling, “I’m fine.”

My grip tightened on his wrist, “No. Lemme see.” I inspected his hand under the dim lighting. He had definitely busted his knuckles. “Come on, there’s a first aid kit in here.”

He followed behind me, silently. I found the first aid kit in the hallway supply closet, then pulled him into the private bathroom of our assigned studio space. As I was digging through the kit, I felt his hand brush my hair at the back of my head to the side, looking me over under the brighter lights. I paused for a moment and let out a stuttered breath. He came to stand beside me, meeting my gaze for the first time since we were alone. His lips were set into a tight line as his eyes roamed over my face. My attention turned back to the first aid kit, pulling out everything that I needed. I could feel his eyes on my face the entire time, like he was waiting for me to break.

I inhaled deeply before meeting his gaze again, “Sit down…gimme your hand.”

He complied. I pulled his hand over the sink to pour some Isopropyl Alcohol over the abrasions. He hissed through his teeth at the burn but didn’t pull away. Once I was done, I let it sit for a minute to air dry. I could still feel Dieter’s eyes on me, but I couldn’t look at him. I actually felt embarrassed over what he had just witnessed.

“Why do you put up with him treating you like that?” he finally asked in a somewhat gruff voice.

I shrugged, rubbing at the crease between my brows. “He had been doing better. I don’t know what’s gotten into him. I think it’s because he’s been drinking more.”

He sighed, “That doesn’t answer my question.”

I finally looked at him, “I guess, I just didn’t wanna give up on the last six years of my life. It wasn’t always bad, you know. I really thought he could get it together. He’s been trying…for the most part…but it’s been one problem after another the last few years.”

I turned my attention back to his hand, spraying antiseptic pain relief on it.

Dieter leaned forward against the sink, “I know you believe in second chances and all that, but not everyone can change ya know. You can’t fix him if he doesn’t wanna fix himself.”

It hurt, but I needed to hear it. He was right, Alec didn’t want to change. Not really. He had been putting in just enough work to keep me satisfied.

“He’s got more going on than just a drinking problem, too. I know you wanna give him a chance, but I don’t think you should put yourself at risk for him. He’s a ticking bomb, waiting to go off. I’ve had a feeling about it since day one, and this just confirmed it.”

A tear slid down my face at his words. Deep down I knew this. I think it was part of the reason I stayed with Alec. I was worried about what would happen if I broke things off with him. I really didn’t know how bad things could get, and I was afraid to find out.

Dieter watched as I wrapped a bandage around his knuckles, then turned to toss the wrappings in the trash can. He stood, pulling me in for another hug. I could feel his lips move against the top of my hair as he spoke, “If you need somewhere to go, or…anything…don’t be afraid to ask me for help. Please.” His tone nearly broke me. It was almost pleading.

I pulled away, wiped my face and nodded, “Thank you. I’m sorry you ended up in the middle of this…” I sighed, “Why did you come back outside, anyway?”

He gave me a sad smile and shrugged, “I forgot my sneakers in the car.”

I chuckled, then pointed at his hand, “Well, I don’t think you broke anything, but that’s probably gonna be bruised and sore.”

He pursed his lips, “It’s worth it.”

I laughed. There was something a little satisfying about Dieter putting Alec in his place. Dieter blew air out through his cheeks, “Well, I guess everyone is gonna know that I punched Alec…assuming his face is fucked up.”

He was right, this was going to be some drama for the show. I thought for a moment, “Maybe not. Just try to keep your hand out of sight. I can probably cover it with makeup before filming tomorrow. Hopefully no one will notice…unless he runs his mouth…but something tells me he won’t.”

We decided to call it a night soon after that. Neither of us were in the mood to rehearse. The adrenaline rush from the club and the interaction with Alec had worn off, leaving me feeling exhausted. It had been a long day and I just wanted to go to bed. Dieter walked me to my car. Instead of just telling me goodbye, he reminded me to reach out if I needed anything and asked me to text him when I got home. His eyes stayed on me until I pulled out of the parking lot. His need to make sure I was ok made my chest ache. Dieter had a caring and nurturing side to him that I truly did not expect. It certainly had me reevaluating my relationship with Alec, realizing that perhaps his behavior wasn’t typical and that something better was out there.

After I got home, I locked myself inside, making sure the slide lock and chain were in place on all the doors. Alec had a key, so I wanted to be sure he wasn’t going to show up in my room unexpectedly in the middle of the night. I dug my phone out of my bag to text Dieter. He again reminded me to call if I needed anything.

I then turned my attention to the barrage of missed calls and texts from Alec. Surprisingly, they were not angry. Instead, they were full of apology and begging for forgiveness. He knew he had fucked up, but that didn’t change the fact that it had happened, and it wasn’t the first time. I took a deep breath, typed out my response, and hit send before I could change my mind.

Me: I need space from you right now. What you did wasn’t ok and it’s not something an apology can fix. I’m not saying it’s over, but I do need a few days to think.

Alec: Whatever you need, baby. I’ll do whatever you need me to do to fix it.

I sighed, shaking my head. I wasn’t sure if it could be fixed or if I even wanted it to be.

Next: Week 3 (Part 2)

A/N: Hello my lovelies! Whew! A lot has already happened in Week 3 and this is only the first half of it! We got our first Dirty Dancing reference. This is going to come up again. 😂 It's clear that Dieter and Kat are becoming more comfortable around each other. As that happens, we're going to start seeing a lot more of the menace side of Dieter, which I know you'll enjoy. We're going to get a lot more of that from him in Part 2...among other things. The boy is turning into a mess, honestly. But look at them texting, maybe sort of flirting, and making dirty jokes! Doesn't get much better than that. Who do we think is gonna cave in and go for it first? I'll ask this question again after you read Dieter's part. 😏 So, what do you think Stacia and Joe are up to? I will say there is some very complex meddling going on behind the scenes and I'm curious to see what y'all pick up on. How much are we hating Alec right now? And yay that he finally got punched! There is a fun interaction between him and Dieter in Part 2 I'm sure y'all will love. It made me snort a little to write it. Can we talk about how protective Dieter and Kat already are of each other though? Swoon. Let's also talk about how Dieter is struggling with this week's dance. The boy is going through it. Just to give you an idea of what he's working with, I have included a fun and flirty Cha Cha video below. It may give you a hint on what his problem is.😂 Also, I think we need Dieter dancing with his shirt open. Just sayin...

youtube

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