by Jacob Chance
“There’s my girl. I knew I could count on you.” His compliment serves to remind me how much I enjoy working with him. Even though he can be a pain in my ass.
“Tonight’s our last show here, and then tomorrow we can meet once we’re back in Connecticut. Lilah, rest up for the remainder of the day. You’re about to be one busy girl,” he chuckles, ominously.
Two days later
“Oh. My. God,” Carly is shocked when I answer the door. Her brown eyes bulge from her head like a cartoon character and her mouth opens and closes as she struggles to speak.
I throw my arms wide and glance down at myself. “I know. It’s a lot to take in.” Stepping back, I tug her inside my front entrance and close out the rest of the world. I never want to leave my house again.
She nods, her gaze slowly tracing over every inch of my face taking in my newly bleached blonde hair and makeup covered skin. And the icing on the cake is the spidery, fake black eyelashes that compromise my vision. How do people wear these things?
Her eyes move lower taking in the low cut, skin tight, hot pink t-shirt and my impressive cleavage completely on display. “Where did those come from?” she questions pointing at my boobs.
I snort at the absurdity of this moment. Gripping one breast in each hand I tell her, “these are mine, only with an industrial strength underwire bra holding them up.”
“I’ve never seen you wear anything so bright or tight,” she giggles at her rhyme like the dork she professes to be.
“That’s because I haven’t worn pink since I was four. You know how I feel about bright colors or color in general.”
“You like black, but technically that’s a color,” she informs, like the elementary school teacher she is while following me to the kitchen.
“Yes, I do. I wish I had more of it on right now. What do you want to drink? Water, soda, orange juice?”
“How about something stronger? I need some alcohol to deal with this outrageous version of you.”
I roll my eyes at her dramatics and walk to the fridge. Carly snickers behind me. “What?”
“Do you realize that your ass says Dat’ Booty on it?
“It does?”
“Yep,” she giggles.
Twisting my upper body around like a contortionist, I try to see my ass, but I’m not a fucking circus performer. The click of a picture being taken has me spinning around. “I’m not sure I want to see that.”
“Oh, trust me, you definitely want to see dat’.” Her eyes are mirth filled as she closes the small distance between us. I take her phone from her outstretched hand and gasp when I see the picture. Dat’ Booty is written in silver sequined letters across the width of my black booty shorts. Oh my God. This might be the most humiliating thing since this morning when I had my entire body waxed free of hair and then spray tanned.
Will the injustice never end?
Handing Carly her phone with a growl, I pull the orange juice out of the fridge. Slamming it down on the counter, I yank open the cabinet and try to grab two glasses, but my new one inch long fake nails are a fucking nuisance. They clink against the glass, making it difficult to get a solid grip. “Fuck this,” I mumble, slamming the cabinet shut in disgust.
I give up and pull two red solo cups out of the pantry and the bottle of vodka that’s remained unopened for six months. If ever there was a reason to drink, I think today qualifies. I forgo ice, in favor of not diluting my buzz and splash a generous amount of vodka in each cup before adding some orange juice. After giving each drink a quick stir with a spoon, I hand Carly’s off to her.
“Let’s drink to the new you,” she jests and we both laugh.
“Let’s not. Let’s drink to forgetting this day happened.”
We head outside to my back patio and sink down onto the sun warmed, cushioned loungers. “Are you going to tell me what brought all this on?” Carly inquires, waving her hand at me. After ten years of friendship, she knows this makeover is something I would never do without a reason.
“My father assigned me as head of finding new online content for WCW. Somehow that ended up meaning spending time with Jesse on camera.”
“Jesse-Jesse?”
“Yep, Jesse Gunn.”
“You mean Jesse - I’d like to see his big gun?” she titters.
My head rolls on the cushion until I can glare at her with narrowed eyes. “I’m glad you find this so amusing. My life is about to go to shit; but no worries.”
“Sounds like your life is about to get a lot more exciting. What could possibly be bad about spending time with Jesse?” She stares back at me. “Unless there’s something you’re not telling me.” She sits up and spins to face me, crossing her legs beneath her. “Spill it.”
“Fine,” I sigh. “Jesse kissed me the other day.”
“What?” she squeals and bounces her rear end up and down on the seat.
“He kissed me.”
“Oh wow. You lucky dog. You’re going to see Jesse’s gun.” She smirks.
“Shut up. I’m not going anywhere near his ‘gun’.”
“You say that now, but I bet Jesse can be really persuasive when it comes to his ‘gun’.”
“Can we stop talking about his ‘gun’?”
“But it’s so much fun.” She recognizes the annoyance on my face. “Okay fine. You’re a killjoy.”
“I never said I wasn’t.” I raise the cup to my lips and guzzle down half the mixture. I’ve never been a fan of screwdrivers, but today it’s not so bad.
“I’m still waiting for an explanation about this makeover.” She draws a small circle in the air with her pointer finger, targeting my face.
“I guess this is my father’s way of making sure I’m attractive enough to be seen. The girls from the costume design department just left.”
“You’re shitting me. Are you going to be on camera?” She laughs so hard she snorts and almost loses her glasses from their precarious perch on her pert nose.
“I told you I was going to shadow Jesse. There’s not a chance in hell I’m going on camera.”
“So you say. When is the first episode going to air?”
“I don’t know, why?”
“I’m setting my dvr up. There’s no way I’m missing that.”
Chapter Eight
Jesse
Being back home in New York City for the past couple of days has been a nice break. I love travelling, but sometimes the luxury of hanging at home alone and decompressing is nice. On the road I’m constantly surrounded by people. I’m a social person and enjoy interacting with others, but I still need some time to myself.
Flipping my right blinker on, I slow down and turn into Lilah’s driveway. When I pull up in front of her house, I notice her suitcase is already out on the front porch of her stately Greenwich home. This doesn’t surprise me. Lilah is very efficient in everything she does. I bet she wouldn’t keep me waiting if we went on a date... when we go on a date. I’m an optimist at heart.
Leaving the engine on the rental car running, I slip out the door and toss her bag in the trunk next to mine. It’s time for our little road trip and the first stop is Maryland. I’ve been looking forward to this since the meeting the day before yesterday. We need to come up with one or two concrete ideas for storylines, but I also plan on making the most of our time together. I’m going to treat this like our first official date, even though she won’t be aware.
The front door pulls open before I reach it. My eyes just about jump out of my head, when I see Lilah for the first time. “Wow.” My tongue is thick in my mouth. I’ve always had a thing for platinum blondes.
“Hi, are you ready?” she questions, all business despite her less businesslike new look.
“Sure, let’s go.”
Once we’re on route ninety-five south, I turn up the volume and sing along to On the Road Again. Her finger taps out the beat on her leg as she lip syncs the words. I belt out the lyrics and squeeze her thigh. “Come on don’t be shy. You’re st
uck in the car with me for five hours. You might as well enjoy it.”
She gives a shake of her head and mumbles, “you’re the entertainer not me.”
Focusing on driving and listening to my kickin’ playlist, we settle into companionable silence. She scrolls through various social media sites and curiosity wins out when I see her typing.
“Are you posting about our road trip?”
“Uh huh.”
“What are you saying?”
“Can’t you look later and see for yourself?”
“You’re assuming I pay attention to what you post?”
Her head snaps up. “You don’t?” I can hear the surprise in her tone.
“Fuck no. I don’t have time to deal with that.” My eyes sweep over to her.
She smiles. “I could be posting crazy stuff and you wouldn’t even know.”
I nod, once again focused on the stretch of highway in front of us. “You could, but that’s not really your style.”
“How do you know what my style is?”
“You’re more direct. You don’t do the typical passive aggressive bullshit other women do.”
“You’re assuming a lot for someone who doesn’t know me very well.”
“I know you better than you realize.”
“Hmm,” she hums, skeptically.
Snapping my eyes over, I notice she’s on WCW’s Twitter. “What are you tweeting?”
“#RoadTrip with @TheJesseGunn. My ears may never recover,” she reads solemnly before erupting into peals of laughter.
“You did not tweet that.”
Stretching her arm in my direction, she holds her phone up facing me. “Wanna bet?”
“You little shit. Don’t think I won’t get you back,” I warn.
“Wait until you see my Instagram post.” She smirks, mischievously.
“I see how it is. Just remember you started this game, babe.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She waves her hand dismissively.
“I hope you’re ready for what I’m bringing. Consider yourself warned. I always get what I’m after.”
We stop to eat lunch after a few hours of being on the road. The silver panels on the outside of the small railroad car make the diner look like something out of the nineteen-fifties, but the inside is completely renovated and spotless. The sunny yellow paint may be a little too bright for my taste, but the food smells fantastic.
We’re immediately led to a booth next to a large window. I can see the cars on the highway racing past and I know it won’t be long until we’re back on the road and reaching our destination. Once we’re in Maryland Lilah will go back to ignoring me for the most part and doing her best to avoid me altogether. I pass a menu her way and flip through the one in front of me. I prefer to eat a high protein diet, but I think I’m in the mood to indulge my sweet tooth.
The waitress takes our order. Lilah’s eyes get wider with each item I mention. I know it’s a lot of food to put away, but I’m famished, and our next show isn’t until tonight.
Once the waitress has moved on I decide to broach the subject I never got a chance to when I picked her up. “So, what’s up with the new look?”
She sighs and places her coffee cup down on the saucer. “Oh, just following Daddy Dearest’s advice.”
“Russ is behind this?” I ask, incredulously.
“Yep. He sure is. You know my father,” she leans in, “we have to give the people what they want, sweetheart.” And her imitation is spot on.
“Wow. I never would have imagined that. Well, if it’s any consolation, I think you look hot.”
She rolls her eyes. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’ve seen the women you screw around with and you definitely have a type.”
“Yeah, hot.”
“I don’t know about hot. I’d say obvious.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Think about it... big hair.” She perks up in her seat and throws her arms up over her head. “Big boobs.” She holds her hands out in front of her own ample breasts. “Big, white smile in an orange spray tanned face.” She barely gets the words out before she snorts.
“What’s the matter, Lilah? Are you jealous?”
“Jealous? Wh... why would I be jealous?” she stutters before regaining her composure. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“It’s okay to admit you are. I’ve never had a shortage of women in my life. Maybe you’ve wondered what you might be missing out on?”
“No.”
“No what?”
“I don’t wonder about...” Waving her hand in front of her, she struggles to find the words. “I just don’t.”
I chuckle and her eyes flash fire at me. “You don’t?” I question, arching a brow. Now, I’m fucking with her, but I can’t help myself. She’s adorable all flustered like this.
“No, I don’t.” She crosses her arms over her chest.
Leaning forward, I brace my forearms on the table and catch her gaze. “You shouldn’t wonder what you’re missing out on.”
She tips her head and presses her lips together. “I shouldn’t?”
“Nope. You don’t need to question what sex with me would be like. Do you know why that is, Lilah?”
She shakes her head.
“Because I’m going to fuck you and then you won’t have to wonder. You’ll know.”
The waitress chooses this moment to set our plates down on the table. I’m not sure Lilah would’ve replied to my words. Judging by the way her mouth dropped open, I know I took her by surprise. When it comes to sex or the thought of us having it, she’d rather duck and run. She’ll pretend there’s nothing going on and spew out a whole bunch of denial.
We both dig into our meals and the conversation fades out. Sitting here is comfortable and I could get used to spending time with her. Seeing her face across from me is something I want to experience more of. Even if it must be under the guise of work. I’ll take what I can get and do whatever’s necessary to have my shot with Lilah.
“How are your eggs?” I ask after watching her eat them with obvious enjoyment.
“Amazing. How are your...err...how’s everything?”
I smile. I have a little bit of any breakfast food you could want on my plate and it’s all delicious. “This is the best breakfast I’ve had in ages. I usually chug a protein shake before I go to the gym.”
We make small talk while finishing our food and then we’re back on the road, heading south.
“Maybe we should figure out what we’re doing for the new social media content?” Lilah mentions.
“Do you have something in mind?”
“No. I really don’t. There are only so many things you can do and most of them have already been done,” she groans.
“But that’s the beauty of this business. We don’t have to reinvent the wheel…we just gotta slap some new rims on that fucker.” I shoot her a quick wink and my best cheesy TV promo smile.
“Please stop doing that and explain.” She’s in business mode and not amused.
“Do you trust me?” I ask.
She doesn’t hesitate. “No, I do not.”
“Well you’re gonna have to.” I laugh.
“Absolutely not.” She sounds determined.
“Look, I’m not sure what you’re planning on doing with the hair and the,” I nod at her alluring tits exposed more than usual, “but if you think I’m gonna just play along with whatever you decide to do, you’re sadly mistaken, little girl.”
She looks stunned. “Excuse me?”
“Lilah, do you know how long I’ve waited for an opportunity like this?” I pause and take a breath.
“I’ve worked too hard for this push and I’m not gonna blow it with some ridiculous angle. That’s not happening.”
Now, she looks angry.
I decide to make it worse. Go big or go home. “Not a fuuucking chance.”
We don’t speak
for the next fifty miles. It’s uncomfortable.
She finally mumbles barely loud enough for me to hear, “little girl?”
“Alright, maybe that was a bit much,” I admit. “But I’m serious about this, Lilah.”
Glancing out the window, she exhales forcefully, packing some serious disgust into her sigh.
We don’t speak for another twenty miles. I want to be the one to break the silence, but I can’t. I meant what I said. This is too important. There are some things about Lilah’s job she won’t compromise, for me, it’s this.
Eventually, Lilah begins quietly humming along with the radio and I’m relieved. I can almost feel her mood calming and the tension lifting.
“Let’s hear it,” she blurts out, as if she were never angry with me at all.
“Hear what?”
“You intimated you might have a better idea.” She seems sincere.
“I might.” I don’t.
“So, let’s hear it,” she repeats.
“Okay first, let me just state that your father is a genius. Nobody knows this business better than him. And I understand part of our success is due to his occasional appearance in storylines on camera. So, it’s only natural that he’d want you to be involved on camera too. I mean for God’s sake look at you.”
She cracks a slight smile.
“Bringing you in with me makes sense. He wants to use the attention I’m getting right now to slide you in…so to speak.” I laugh. Lilah does not. “You have to understand; the fans don’t know who you are yet. Do you really want to unexpectedly appear on camera and in front of the fans dressed like that?” I gesture to her impressive cleavage and force myself to keep my eyes locked on hers. She looks beguiling no matter what she has on, but I know her preference for appearing professional.
Lilah straightens up in her seat. “Hell no.” She looks nervous.
“Great. How do you want to introduce yourself to the wrestling world?”
“On camera?” She sounds nervous. “I... I don’t want to introduce myself to any world.”
“I’m thinking that option is off the table, sweetheart.”
