So this story is picking up just at the end of the Seth and Dean feud just FYI. Enjoy y'all!

Chapter 1

"How is the job hunt gong?" I look up from my laptop as my roommate enters our small apartment. Three weeks ago I was unceremoniously laid-off from my job at the downtown law firm and I still haven't found another position, something my roommate doesn't let me forget.

So I lie. "Actually pretty good, I had a promising interview with a firm over lunch." If by interview you mean leftover pizza while watching SVU then sure. I mean legal jargon was involved.

Elle nods as she shrugs off her jacket and hangs in neatly on our coat rack, while pointedly avoiding my coat strewn on the ground. "That's good to hear."

She trails off in a way that I know she wants to say something else, "I'll have the rent money, don't worry."

Leaning against our kitchen counter Elle tries vainly to look casual. "Of course Charlotte."

I close my laptop, "Look, I know you're kind of freaked that I don't have a job right now, but I've never been late before."

"I know, but if you get behind you don't have anyone to help pick up that slack."

"I don't need anyone to 'pick up the slack.' Besides I know how to manage money."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that one of us can stick to a budget and one of us cannot. I'll give you three guesses which is which."

I know I've gone too far when Elle leaves the room with a screech. No part of me feels bad about my outburst though. If either of us should be stressed out and emotional it should be me.

Eventually my guilt starts to gnaw on me so I get ready to apologize. But my phone ringing distracts me. "Hello?"

A woman's voice responds. "Is this Ms. Charlotte Warren?"

"Yes, this is she. May I ask who is calling?"

"Well we have a job opening for you.''

Intrigued I find my resume, prepared to reference it. "What kind of opening?"

''In our legal department, of course.''

''And what company is this?"

"We're an international sports company.''

"Like Nike?"

The voice laughs, ''Not quite. We're having an event on Monday. Let's grab lunch, discuss your resume, salary benefits, all that good stuff and then you can see what we're all about."

This all seems a little vague to me. "I would appreciate a little more information before I agree to anything."

"Have a little faith Charlotte. We'll make it worth your while. Honestly, the lunch is a formaility we're prepared to offer you the job.''

"But…what?" I can't seem to form a complete sentence.

"You aren't going to turn down a guaranteed job in this economy, are you?"

"Well, no.''

"Good. We'll see you Monday.''

The line goes dead, but it takes me a second to move. That exchange was weird and completely unprofessional.

''Hey, who was on the phone?" Elle pokes her head out.

''I got offered a job.''

''What?!" Elle runs and hugs me, so I guess I'm forgiven for our earlier argument. ''That's so exciting. Really, I'm sorry I gave you a hard time about the rent.''

I roll my eyes, wishing our relationship didn't revolve around the damn rent. ''It was weird though.''

''What do you mean?"

''I can't really describe it.''

''A job's a job right?"

''I suppose.''

By the time Monday rolls around I already have half my mind made up to turn down the position. That phone call still doesn't sit right with me. I mean how can you offer a job to someone and not say what company it is?

For the short time I'm waiting in the restaurant I devise a short, polite refusal. I stand as a vaguely familiar woman approaches my table. ''Ms. Warren, thank you for meeting me.''

I try to smile as we shake hands, ''Of course, Ms…?"

''McMahon. Stephanie McMahon.''

''A pleasure.''

We sit in silence as the waitress takes our orders. "I'm assuming you have some questions.''

''TO say the least,'' I pause. ''What company do you work for?"

Stephanie chuckles, ''I'm the Chief Brand Officer of the WWE.''

Her answer startles me. Obviously, Stephanie is pretty high on the totem pole in this business. Something tickles the edge of my memory. ''Chief Brand Officer?"

She shrugs, ''It's a family business.''

And then it dawns on me just who this woman is. I realize why she looks so familiar. Faint memories of Monday nights in dingy basements come to mind. I shake my head to dispel them. It's not just a family business, it's a family identity. The McMahon's are wrestling.

"And why does a professional wrestling company need a lawyer?" She nods acknowledging that I finally recognize her.

''Sports Entertainment,'' She corrects. ''Corporations need lawyers that's just the way the world works.''

''Why reach out to me?''

The Billion Dollar Princess smiles, ''Are you insinuating you don't deserve the position?"

''I don't even know what the position is.''

''Insurance cases primarily, your area of expertise.''

I feel every answer she gives just causes about twenty more questions. And I struggle to get back on track. ''How did you hear about me?"

''You are extremely talented and young to boot,'' Stephanie pauses. ''And it's such an inspiring story.''

I push back my plate, unwilling to eat anything more.

''I mean an orphan from downtown Cincinnati, who pulls herself from the lowest of the low to put herself through college and then graduates top of her class in law school.'' She whistles. ''Amazing."

I stand. ''Thank you for the offer Ms. McMahon, but-''

''Ask me how much.''

''What?"

Her brown eyes stare at me coolly, ''Ask me how much I'm willing to pay you.''

''I can't be bought.''

'Don't lie to me or yourself, Charlotte.''

I move to leave and feel her hand enclose my wrist, squeezing tightly. ''Fine. How much?''

Stephanie hands me a piece of paper. ''I'm confident that this sum will at least convince you to come see what we're all about. Let's talk after the show.'' Ms. McMahon stands dropping a 100 bill on the table. ''I look forward to working with you.''

Once she's gone I finally look at the paper and immediately fold it again. ''Waitress? Can I get a Vodka tonic please?"

How does one dress for a WWE event, that's also part of a weirdest interview in the world? I've been debating this since I got home from lunch. Eventually I just said 'fuck it' and put on skinny jeans and a v-neck. And at the last minute I decided to just throw my dirty blonde hair into a pony tail.

At will-call I give them my name and am promptly escorted backstage.

I can only describe it as chaos. There are people everywhere and cameras and equipment. I can't even hear myself think. I'm so busy taking everything in that I almost run into my escort when he stops moving. ''Sorry.''

''Ms. McMahon and Paul are over there.''

Paul? I look over and see Stephanie and Paul I'm assuming. They look to be in a heated discussion yet they still notice me and wave me over. ''Charlotte, so glad you're here. Meet my husband, Paul or Triple-H if you would prefer.''

His name paired with the face triggers more memories and once again I shake, trying to clear my head. ''Nice to meet you.''

"Honey, this is the lawyer from Cincinnati that I told you about.''

''Lawyer?" I watch as realization comes over his features. ''Ah, the lawyer. Great to meet you. Welcome aboard.''

''I haven't taken the job yet.''

Stephanie waves her hand. ''Details.'' A man with a headset approaches us and whispers something to Stephanie. ''We have to go, but please stay and watch the show.''

And so I watch, with varying levels of interest.

Soon Stephanie and her husband appear along with two henchmen, one with a rough dye job, on the monitor. The crowd boos. Lovely, my future employers are hated by the populous.

They're complaining about someone named Dean Ambrose. Apparently he's crazy and getting in the way of the one with the bad dye-job. Regardless, I watch trying to understand what the hell is going on.

When I've got everything just about figured out (bad dye-job is Seth Rollins apparently) the quartet is interrupted by someone on the big screen. I gasp. ''What the fuck?"

I stand and grab the nearest assistant. Pointing to the monitor I ask, ''Who is that?"

''Dean Ambrose…''

"What?" My mind is trying to piece it all together. ''Where is he?"

''Somewhere back here,'' he shrugs. ''Don't go after him though. The dude's a lunatic fringe.''

"What the hell does that even mean?" I ask but I'm already a few feet away. This area is a labyrinth and I'm wandering. Literally, no clue where I'm supposed to be going. But I hear his voice. Slowly I approach and watch captivated as he speaks to the camera.

He's done and I repress the urge to applaud. I realize that he's about to walk away. ''Jonathan!''

'From my vantage point I see him physically tense then turn slowly. His face is pulled up into a scowl until we make eye contact. ''Char?"

So obviously, Charlotte and Dean have a history that we will find out more about later...Would love to know what y'all thought! Or if you have any questions. Have a great day!