18: Yes Means No

Samantha had allowed herself to be dressed in a cream colored cocktail dress, dripping with expensive jewelry though she had insisted her hair be done in a heavy fishtail braid, over her shoulder. Chris' 'mark' was permanent, both of them were, and while she didn't overly mind it, she didn't want to answer questions either, not from her family and their friends.

The whole 'didn't mind it' thing kind of worried her because she should have minded. She and Chris weren't that serious and she was sporting some pretty serious, pretty permanent marks. If she had seen this on Maria, she would have instantly jumped to 'abuse'.

She tried to stay mostly out of sight, but that was nixed pretty much the moment she spotted Paul and realized he was staring at her. Her first instinct was to run away, straight to Chris, and she squished that down, holding her head up as she made her way downstairs. He was in the main hall, he hadn't bothered entering the ballroom yet, she had a feeling he was waiting on her.

Of course he was and smiled at her the moment he laid eyes on her. That cream color looked amazing on her, blending well against her black hair and beautiful eyes. Paul had actually missed her and even had a flower for her, a single red rose, her favorite flower or so he thought. It was all he ever bought her, never really finding out what her favorite flower was. It didn't matter, all women loved all flowers and she'd thank him for being thoughtful anyway. "You look beautiful." He murmured, walking up to her and kissed her cheek, handing her the flower before extending his arm to her. "Let me escort you inside, Samantha."

"Um, no thank you, Paul." Samantha despised roses, she honestly preferred wildflowers, any type of lily. But not roses. They were so damn cliche. She stepped away from him, heading for the ballroom and nearly took his head off verbally when he looped her arm through his, glaring up at him. She hitched a smile into place as they entered the room. "Asshat."

"Love you too, Sam." Paul murmured in reply, waving at a couple that strolled by them and continued walking into the room with her, nodding at her parents. Her mother looked satisfied for obvious reasons and George simply nodded his approval. He knew the man didn't think much of him, but Paul would blow him away with what he had in store for his future. No daddy could resist a suitor with deep pockets and a solid game plan for the little princess.

"Dance with me." He didn't give her time to turn him down, simply pulled her into his arms, beginning to sway with her on the floor. "You know, I didn't appreciate the way you ended things between us and I figured you just needed time to clear your head. Glad to see you've seen the light."

"Seen the- no, Paul, I'm not here for YOU. I'm here because I promised my parents I would be." Sam corrected, wondering if he were serious. "As soon as this party is over, I'm bailing and going right back to Chris." She didn't like hurting him, and she kept her voice low so nobody would overhear, not wanting to embarrass him anymore then she already had. "I don't love you, Paul."

"Oh sweetheart, I love you too." Paul had raised his voice a little to where eyes began drifting to them, grinning at the perplexed expression on her face. Now was the time and definitely the place, she was to soft-hearted to turn him down.. "Cut the music!" He ordered the conductor, who then stopped the orchestra. Paul reached into his breast pocket, pulling a small velvet box out. Marsha nodded her encouragement to him. He took Samantha's hand and dropped to his knee in front of her, watching those eyes widen in shock.

"Samantha, I've loved you since we were kids and, although we've been through some down times lately, that hasn't changed how I feel about you. You're the love of my life, my soul mate, my Queen and I've been waiting for the right time to do this." He took a deep breath, flipping the top open on the box, which revealed her grandmother's ring, something she had admired since she was a child. "Samantha Meade, will you do me the exquisite honor of being my wife?"

The son of a bitch. Sam's blue orbs were frosty as she stared down at Paul, well aware all eyes were on them and knew how badly she could hurt him right now. Her gaze moved to her parents and seen her mother was smiling, tears in her eyes, and inwardly groaned. "Of course." She said quietly, lying through her teeth, a very fake smile on her face. She watched as he slid that ring on her finger. As soon as she could, she was decking him, in private, and giving him back the ring because she would never marry him.

Grinning, Paul lifted her in his strong arms and spun her around in circles on the dance floor, setting her down before capturing her mouth in a passionate, searing kiss. He knew she wouldn't have accepted if she didn't love him. Samantha could claim she didn't love him as much as she wanted, but she proved she did by accepting his proposal. "We're getting married!" He crowed happily, dragging her over to her parents, who were elated, Marsha was crying happy tears and hugging her daughter while George shook Paul's hand.

Samantha had to suffer through hours of congratulations, dancing, being kissed, and when it was finally over, she was ready to call it a day. Her parents were escorting the last people out and she shed her stupid heels right there on the marble floor of the ballroom, glaring daggers at Paul. "Here." She pulled the ring off her finger, holding it out to him. "I'm not marrying you, and you know it."

Paul chuckled, shaking his head and refused to take the ring back, folding his arms in front of his chest. "You said yes in front of all those people tonight, Samantha. In front of some important friends of your parents and I don't think they'd appreciate you backing out on them." He stepped up to her, taking the ring and forcefully pushed it back on her left ring finger. "You are mine. You belong to me, not that fucking Rockstar punk you brought home. Your mother and father hate him and they love me. Get over it, we're getting married and you can't do anything about it."

"I lied, people do that. I don't love you, I don't care who heard me say 'yes', it's still not happening, Paul." Sam pulled the ring off again and tossed it over her shoulder, her braid flopping back along with it and she watched his eyes narrow in on her neck. "I'm leaving, and I really hope for your sake, you find what you really are looking for, Paul, because it's not me." Stepping away, she turned away from him and headed for the doors. If he and her mom wanted this dynasty so bad, her mom could divorce George and marry Paul for all she cared.

"You are not going anywhere, Samantha." Marsha was there to stop her daughter, expecting this type of rebellion and nodded at Paul to retrieve the ring. "You just threw your great-grandmother's ring on the floor, by the way. Do you honestly believe your Rockstar will stay with you? He's a NOBODY, Samantha. Without his concerts, he would be a nobody and his voice will only get him so far. He doesn't care about you or love you, not the way Paul does. What is wrong with you that you can't see that? If you're bored with the sex, spice it up and don't run away from the true love of your life!"

"Mom, he freaks out over tongue and the last time I suggested he try fucking me from behind, he had a spaz attack. You can't fix that kind of sexual stupidity." Samantha said flatly, officially at her breaking point. She seen Paul's face flush bright red and had no fucks to give. "I don't love Chris and he knows it, I care about him and we're having fun, that's enough for us." She eyed Paul when he approached with the ring. "Okay, I have to ask, where is this string she keeps pulling? Because obviously, you're her puppet. When she says jump, do you ask how high?"

"SAMANTHA! You apologize to your fiancé right this minute!" Marsha ordered in a growl, planting her hands on her hips. "So what if the sex is boring with him? You can FIX it if you WORK at it! They have sexual therapy for a reason! Maybe he just isn't comfortable doing those positions, but that doesn't mean you can't break him of it. Men are VERY breakable, you just have to know where to apply the right pressure point. Your Dad was the same way and now he's a stud in bed." She smirked triumphantly at the disgust on her daughter's face. "Effectively immediately, you are going to school here. You will not return to Florida, not if you want a roof over your head and you know damn well our money is the only way you do whatever the hell you want. It's time you grow up and start contributing to our family, Samantha."

"Well, thank you, mom, for settling it for us all." Samantha said quietly. "School has already been paid for, so I'll be taking my clothes from today that Chris brought, returning YOUR dress and YOUR jewelry, and be on my merry way. Cut me off. I don't care."

"Marsha…" George said quietly. "We'll lose her if you push this."

"She's already lost me." Samantha began dropping the jewelry to the floor, not caring and then shimmied her ass right out of that dress, wearing a stupid corset, nylons and all that shit beneath it. "Here you go." She kicked it at her mom. "All yours."

"Oh dear God," George turned away as Sam strolled off.

"SAMANTHA!"

"Samantha, what the hell is wrong with you? How can you speak to your mother that way?! You shouldn't disrespect the woman who gave birth to you!" Paul chastised angrily, not believing how she was acting and shook his head, gritting his teeth when she promptly flipped them the bird.

School was NOT paid for because Marsha would be calling them first thing in the morning and stopping payment. If she wanted to be a little bitch and not contribute to their family, she could find her own way. Her Rockstar could pay her way, for all she cared! Marsha no longer had a daughter.