This story does not follow any timeline. It is my first so feedback is definitely welcomed. I have an idea on how I want this story to play out, but if any of you have some suggestions feel free to let me know. Read, enjoy, and review please.

It was my first trip to Europe with the WWE. The superstars and I were making several stops in England, France, Italy, and Germany. Our first stop was in London, England. A group of the male wrestlers went out sight-seeing and I joined them, mostly because I am better friends with the male talent than my fellow female coworkers. While walking around I noticed a street that contained several high-end shops such as Chanel, Dior, and Versace. I was never really into high-end things, aside from a few handbags and even fewer pairs of high-end heels, but there's something so alluring about beautiful handbags and even more beautiful shoes. I decided to give in to temptation and stray away from the group and enter my new favorite shop in the world, Dior.

In the display window there was a beautiful brown leather jacket. Alongside of it were matching high-heeled boots and handbag. I made a comfortable living with the WWE so I decided to see if I should treat myself. I walked in and was greeted by a store employee that must have been just a few years older than I was.

"Welcome to Dior," she said with a pleasant smile on her face. "Can I interest you in some complimentary champagne while you have a look around?"

I returned the smile. "O, no thank you. I really came in here for the window display."

"The brown leather three-piece set. Very popular for this season. Would you like to see all three or just one particular item?" She asked.

"Just the leather jacket. I can't spend too much, I'd end up feeling guilty for wasting that much." I told her.

"It is not a waste if you truly want it."

"Yeah, but I have two boys at home who I would think about what I could have gotten for them if I hadn't had gotten these things for myself."

She gave an understanding look before going to retrieve the leather jacket in my size. When she came back, she placed a large square box on the white counter and opened it, removing several layers of tissue paper before finally retrieving the jacket. The saleswoman helped me put it on and I followed her to the full length mirror. I loved it and told her I would take it. She packed it back up for me, and rang me up. She thanked me for shopping there and I thanked her for her help.

As I walked out of the store, I was joined by a large, red-headed Irish man. He was a male wrestler whose ring name was Sheamus and one of the top guys on the WWE roster. I gave him a smile and greeted him. "Hey Sheamus, what's up?"

He returned the smile while he tucked his hands into the pocket of his jeans. "Nothing, just had enough of the sightseeing. I'm ready to head over to the arena for tonight's show. What about you, lass? I see you've been shopping?" He spoke in his Irish accent which I thought was really awesome.

"It's only one jacket, I swear." I told him as I held my hands up in defense.

He smiled, "I know, I heard as I waited outside of the shop."

I nudged him with my shoulder which was meant to connect with his shoulder, but with him being 6'4' and me being my natural height of 5'1', I hit closer to his elbow. "Are you stalking me? Because if you were I would have gone somewhere more interesting."

He snapped his fingers with a disappointed look in his face. "My secret is out. Well, at least now you know. So yes, next time please go to the Liverpool arena or at least out somewhere to eat so I can relish in your beauty while I stuff me face."

"I will, cross my heart." I said while actually doing the movement. "What's Liverpool?" I asked as we walked back to the hotel.

He held his chest faking shock. "Good Lord, lass. It's only the greatest football staple in all of its league."

"O, soccer. Ok, I follow now."

He grabbed my hand to stop us from walking. He held up his index finger shaking it towards me. "Football. Not soccer."

I couldn't help but smile a little at how serious these European men can be about this sport. "Football." I said. he gave me a smirk and wink.

We both finished the walk back to the hotel where we said our goodbyes and went our separate ways to start preparing for tonight's show. It went routinely and afterwards my tag team partners and I made our way on the bus which would take us to our next hotel in the next city.

I shared a room with one of my partner's, Jon Good, whose ring name is Dean Ambrose. He and I arrived in our and set our things down for the night. He went to take a shower, and I sat down on my bed trying to find something on tv. There was a knock on the door and when I checked who it was through the peep whole, I saw it was a bell boy holding some packages. When I opened the door he asked if I was Ms. Scarlett. "Yeah, I guess I am."

"Then, these are for you," he said handing my two large, white boxes. In the center of both boxes in big black letters was the word Dior.

"Thank you," I said. I took the boxes and closed the door. I placed them down on my bed asking myself what the hell was going on? I didn't know what to think or do, so I just stood there staring at them.

"What are you doing?" Ambrose asked as he stood behind me. I didn't even here him come out of the bathroom.

I shook my head trying to get the cloudiness out of my thoughts. "Um, nothing."

"More shit from that store?" He said as he took the control that I had left on my bed and started to flip channels.

"Yeah, but I didn't buy anything else from there. Just that jacket from earlier," I told him.

He shrugged and focused his attention on the television. I sat down and decided to open the boxes. As I removed the lid to the first one and peeled back the layers of tissue paper, I saw the brown Dior bag that matched my leather jacket. There was a small note placed on top of the handbag. It read:

I think you deserve to treat yourself...by giving me the privilege of taking you out on a date. The handbag and shoes are a bribe. I'M SORRY!

-Stephan (Sheamus)

(941-583-2779)

To say that I was just a tad taken back would be a huge understatement. I barely ever talked to this guy and then, BAM! He drops this on me. Does this mean he likes me? He has to like in some capacity to this right? Fuck, I need girlfriends for this type of I call him? SHould I text him? Is this a joke of some kind? SHIT! I- before I could finish my thought rambling to myself in my head, I was smacked in the face by a pillow with some force to it.

"What the fuck Ambrose?"

"Sorry, but it kind of looked like you were having a some kind of brain aneurism."

"And if I was your solution would have been to throw something at my head?" I asked as I got up to retrieve my cell phone.

"I'm nothing if not caring," he said.

Before I decided to do anything, I wanted to get someone's opinion. Why not a mans right? "Jon, can I ask you a serious question?" He nodded and that was my cue to continue. "Let's say a guy gives a girl some very pretty and very expensive things. Along with a very cute and very sweet note with his number on it? What exactly would be his motives behind these gestures?"

"He wants to fuck."

I let out a sigh and rolled my eyes. "I need more girlfriends."

"Same here," said Dean. "So, are you gonna call the guy?"

"Maybe."

"That's a yes."

"Go to sleep." I then retrieved the things I would need to shower and took them, along with my cell, to the bathroom. I had saved the number in my phone and decided to text him.

Hey Stephan. It's Scarlett.

I then jumped in the shower and tried to play cool with this whole thing and not get a head of myself.