Maggie couldn't help it. She sighed in frustration. This had been the night from hell. Normally she loved her job. She met interesting people, made excellent money, and got to travel. What more could a person ask for?

Traveling with one of the country's largest wrestling federations meant dealing with the largest egos. Women, diva's as they are called, have to be perfect. Maggie could do wonders with her makeup brushes and paints but she couldn't change attitudes, as much as she wanted too.

One woman screamed at her because she used a hard bristle brush on her hair. Not that it mattered; her hair was like fried rice anyway. Maggie just wanted to grab a pair of scissors and chop it all off.

Another woman turned over her makeup table because she didn't like the color of eye shadow Maggie used. She said it made her looked jaundiced. Maggie almost told her to eat once and a while and maybe her color would get better. But she didn't. She bit her tongue, smiled, and started over.

She closed her eyes, steeled her resolve. She still had to clean up, pack her rental car, return it and catch a flight to the next show. She would sleep on the plane, hopefully.

"Hey Maggie," a tall, very well built man stated as he propped a hip on the corner of the table and posed as if there was a camera present. "Have you seen Amy lately?"

Maggie's frustration rose to the boiling point. Her cousin, Amy, was a well known diva. And just because they both worked for the same company, everyone expected Maggie to be her personal secretary. Maggie didn't even like her that much, Amy was the kind of family you didn't claim unless you had too.

"I think she has left the building Scott," she remarked, her sarcastic tone lost on him.

"Oh," he paused for a second. "Well what are you doing this evening? Want to go grab a bite?"

"No thank you," she declined politely. She hated it when the men automatically assumed she was like her cousin. She had the hots for one man and one man only. And he had a thing for Amy. As a matter of fact, he had a thing for a lot of women. But Amy was the one he just hadn't conquered. Not from lack of trying. She was just too busy with everyone else.

Maggie knew she could never compare to any of the divas. She wasn't gorgeous or sexy, her boobs were her own, and she never wore revealing clothes. The men didn't drool over her. They always considered her more like a sister. Or worse, they always came to her with their damn relationship problems.

"Maybe some other time then," Scott remarked before walking away. He didn't even wait for an answer. Maggie flipped him off, muttered "when hell freezes over", and returned to her cleaning. She had little time to worry about relationships or where or who Amy was doing at the moment. The thing about traveling with the federation was she had to do everything on her own. Management considered her a contractor. As long as she showed up on time, did her job, and didn't try to charge too much, they were happy.

"Maggie, my favorite makeup artist," the deep voice rumbled through the small room. Maggie felt it down to her toes. She hated the little skip in her heart when ever he came close. She took a deep breath, willing her brain not to turn to mush.

"Hi Adam," she managed to squeak out. She cleared her throat, hating the way that always happened.

"Can you spare a minute?" Adam Copeland propped himself on the same corner of the table that Scott had vacated. "I need to ask you a favor."

She really couldn't. She had too much to do but it was Adam. "Sure." She sat down in one of the folding chairs scattered around the room. Her pulse quickened as he smiled at her.

"You look very pretty tonight."

Maggie looked at him, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. No one ever complemented her. She stood on the outskirts of everyone's world, ready to make them more beautiful than they already were. She could see the words were insincere. He cringed when she glared at him. "What do you want Adam?" She asked, crossing her legs and folding her arms across her stomach.

"Okay, here goes nothing," he grinned again. She ignored the jumping beans in her stomach. He was turning on the charm, this couldn't be good.