"No Peter," I state firmly blockading the door to my boss' office.
"Just two bloody minutes," the man growls in front of me.
This was an ongoing argument between the two of us.
"Just like every other time you've barged in here over the past two weeks. Mr. Regal is not seeing anyone without an appointment."
"I don't need an appointment," he growls reaching around me.
"The fuck you don't," I return the growl shoving the man. The fact that I moved the man only possible because I caught him off guard. I didn't give him a chance to recover. "I know the accents are different but I'm assuming we're both speaking English. I will tell you one more time. You want to see Regal you need a fucking appointment. You ever fucking try to shove your way past me again and I will kick your ass little boy. Now get out."
He opens his mouth to argue and I cut him off.
"I said get out and don't show your face until you can learn some respect. Go," I snap as he stares at me. He backs away slowly, eyes never leaving mine until he's forced to turn and make his way down the hall.
"Vivian?"
"Mr. Regal," I force a smile onto my face as I turn to face my boss. "What can I do for you, Sir?"
"You have made sure I am very well taken care of, thank you," he smiles.
"It's my job."
"What about you, my dear?"
"Me, sir?"
"You are like a daughter to me. I can read you like a book. I know you are vying for my job, dear."
"Would I…"
"Yes, dear, you would. I taught you to be ruthless with your business dealings."
I had to admit he was right. He was fresh out of rehab in WCW and I was a disrespectful eighteen-year-old bitter because I was stuck in the Nitro Girls instead of being allowed to wrestle. The older man took me under his wing after smacking some respect into me. He taught me how to navigate the backstage politics and how to bend them to my needs. I was willing to follow him anywhere which is how I ended up in WWF two years later. I had him to thank for my long career in the company. That is until my accident three years ago, one bad move and my neck was ruined. Deep depression settled over me as I tried to find a place in the world without wrestling. Regal pulled me out and put me back at his side as his on-screen assistant on NXT. I soon replaced his actual assistant backstage and dived into learning the ends and outs of running a show at my mentor's side. "Yes, I want to take your place over on NXT. Everyone knows that once this succeeds over here that you will be too busy here to continue over in the states. I can do this."
"I know. Keep it up," he winks. "I also know something else is going on with you. I noticed you withdrawing again about a month ago," he continues as I turn to the papers on my desk. "I originally attributed it to adjusting to a new country but now it is beginning to worry me."
"It's nothing. Personal. Shouldn't be discussed during work."
"The work day is over."
"The work day is never done in wrestling," I smile.
"Vivian…"
"I just have to finish up some paperwork for you, William. You're done for the day, I am not."
"Will you be back in time for dinner Sunday. Christina is practically giddy at the thought of seeing you."
"Since I'm not going back to the States, yes," I state shuffling through the papers in my bag. "It's a waste of time. There's nothing back there for me at the moment. I'd rather just hunker down here for the next four days."
"What do you plan on doing with your free time?"
"Sight see," I lie, shrugging. "Here is the recipe Ms. Christina asked me for," handing over a small bundle of papers. "I can't wait for her to try it Sunday night. I made you reservations at her favorite restaurant for tomorrow night at six. Make yourself presentable, old man. Now go, I've got work to finish."
"You are avoiding me," he sighs taking the papers. "I'll allow it for just a while longer but not for much longer."
"Yes sir. Enjoy your time off. I seem to have left my tablet back at the hotel room. I will have your itinerary for next week to you Sunday."
"We are going to talk Sunday," he sighs pressing a peck to my temple. "Don't work too late."
"Will do, sir."
I stare down at the picture on the phone. "A month later and he's already moved on."
Who am I kidding? He had probably been nailing her for months before he broke it off. The tears come unwarranted as I scroll through three weeks' worth of Instagram posts. Gym selfies, fan art, repost from fans at his shows, and at least one picture a day of the two of them snuggled up together. Each new picture tears my heart deeper. "You have been doing this to yourself for the last two days, just fucking put the damn phone down.," I grumble to myself scrolling further. A knock pulls my attention to the door. "Go away," I mutter under my breath. Another knock, harder this time. "Fine." Yanking the door open I come face to face with Pete. "Ah, fuck," I groan hiding my face behind the door. "What do you want Peter?"
"An appointment with Regal."
"What?"
"An appointment with Regal, please."
I feel a smirk pull at my lips at the simple show of respect. "When?"
"Early."
"Let me check his schedule," I sigh moving across the room to my tablet.
"Are you crying?"
"What?"
"You're crying," he states behind me, I can feel the heat radiating from his body behind me.
"No, I'm not," I mutter wiping furiously at my face with one hand while the other brings up Regal's schedule. "Stupid weather around here. How about eight am Monday?"
"Fine. Why are you lying?"
"I'm not," I mutter. "You have your appointment."
I wait for the man to leave so I can break down again.
"When was the last time you've left this room," he asks instead.
"Why does it matter to you?"
"I don't know, honestly."
"You have what you came for. You can leave now."
"You still haven't told me why you're crying. You don't seem the kind of woman to let a man break your heart, quite the opposite, you seem the type of woman that break little boys for fun. I'm intrigued to know what could make you cry."
I stare up at the man over my shoulder.
"It is a man," he states, eyes widening.
"It's a business arrangement that went south, if you must know," I sigh turning. "He saw me as a chance to advance his career. When I decided that I would focus on my career instead of his, our relationship started showing cracks. He was a fuck boy that found some other hole to fill," I growl before wilting. "I stupidly gave my heart to him."
"I'm sorry," he states softly.
"So am I," I chuckle sadly, blinking away the tears.
He closes the short distance between us, his arms hesitantly wrap around me pulling me to his chest.
"What," I start.
"Shut up."
I lift my head to argue when he winds his fingers of one hand through my hair pulling me back to his chest as the other rests at the small of my back. I feel the tears pricking at my eyes again. "No, no, no, no," I think as they start to slide down my cheeks. "I am not going to fall apart in front of this man."
His thumb slides up and down along the spine of my neck. Thoughts of all the times "he" did the same thing trying to comfort me when my depression would start to rear its ugly head flash through my mind. Eventually that little bit of effort on his part was too much for him causing me to feel even more alone. The sobs finally break through my reserve and I clutch the man in front of me. He makes no move to comfort me further other than just holding me tightly against his body as sobs rock me. Eventually he shifts us both so we're sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Thank you," I hiccup.
There is no response.
I try to pull away but he only holds tighter.
"Pete…"
"I'm not good at this," he whispers. "Talking just makes me feel awkward."
"We wouldn't want that," I snort. "It's not like you're sobbing on a complete stranger or anything."
A grunt is my only response.
"Quiet is perfect," I breathe returning the tight embrace.
Monday morning hits me like a ton of bricks. The only restful sleep I had the past couple days was the hour I drifted off on Pete's chest. Of course, the man was gone when I woke up. My dinner with William was full of pity which did not help my general mood.
"Vivian, dear, why is Dunne on my schedule?"
"Because he tracked me down and asked for an appointment."
"Why?"
"Because I needed to talk to ya and yer guard dog wouldn't let me past."
I turn to find Pete smirking.
"He only got the appointment because he finally found some respect for me. Didn't even have to smack him once," I grin.
"Smarter than some I know," Regal smirks waving the younger man forward. "Come on then."
Pete winks setting a full coffee cup on my desk in front of me.
"Thank you."
"Messed up my order," he shrugs.
"Thank you regardless," I call over my shoulder.
After that day, Pete is always there hovering. Never touching but close enough to be sensed or staring from across the room so I knew exactly who was interrupt my conversation with Mark Andrews.
"So, Regal has already gone over your new contract, correct?"
"Yes," he smiles.
"Then this is yours," I hand over the stack of papers ignoring the heat on my neck. "Just need you to initial this," I smile holding out the clipboard for him to initial. "Thank you."
"Hey," Mark begins as I start to walk away. "I know you're pretty much our boss but a few of us are heading to a pub after the show and…Is there something we can do for you Dunne?"
"Was just wonderin' if Ms. Allen has anything for me."
"Not at the moment. I'll swing by Regal's office when I'm done for my next set of errands."
He doesn't move from his spot.
"I'll find you if I need you, Peter," I smile glancing at the man behind me. "Mark, find me closer to the end of the night. If I'm not swamped, I'd love to join you."
"You promise," Mark smirks.
"I don't make promises," I wink turning. "Jesus, Pete," I grumble. "I have a couple more things to do before I make it back to the office. Find something to do."
"Ya shouldn't do that," he mutters following me down the hallway.
"Do what?"
"Lead him on."
"Who?"
"Mark. You shouldn't flirt with him like that?"
"Why? Do you want me to flirt with you like that?"
His face flushes blood red.
"Or would you prefer to flirt with him?"
His jaw clenches as he stares down at me.
"I'll find you around if I need you," I smirk. "Tyler. May I speak with you for a moment?"
"Thank you for inviting me out," I smile at Mark. "It's nice to relax a bit."
"May I ask a question?"
I nod sipping from the water bottle in my hand.
"What's with Pete and you," he asks nodding to the end of the bar.
I shrug. "He's taken a sudden interest in me and I don't have a clue why."
"He's informed everyone to stay away from you."
"Didn't know he was the boss of the locker room."
"He's not."
"I guess you don't have to listen to him then," I smile.
"Fuck," Mark mutters.
"What," I ask turning to follow his eye line. I find Pete standing nose to nose with another guy arguing. "So much for relaxing."
"Where are you going," Mark asks as I stand.
"To keep the idiot from losing his job. What's going on here boys," I ask squeezing myself between the two. One hand resting on Pete's chest as I eye the other man. Standing slightly taller than Pete, he lacks any of Pete's muscle.
"'E 'ad his paws all over me girl," the stranger slurs.
"She loved it," Pete growls.
"Peter," I warn not taking my eyes off the stranger. "Kindly keep your mouth shut."
"Listen to yer bitch, boy."
"No," I smirk. "You listen to me. Not this bitch."
"Yes, ma'am," Pete chuckles.
"Who do you think you are?"
"The Little Devil Vivian Ward. Although most drop the little devil part now-a-days."
He looks me up and down. "You don' look like much."
"Looks can be deceiving. Now I apologize for my friend's misunderstanding. It's time for you to take your girl and enjoy the rest of your night."
"Maybe I don' want 'er now that she's taint'd." One hand comes up to stroke up my arm.
"I prefer to be tainted. Least he has the right equipment. If I wanted to play with a pussy, I'd play with my own."
I could see the swing coming before he even decided to move. Blocking the slap, "See, that's a bitch move. Walk away."
"Or what?"
"You won't touch her," Pete growls behind me.
"Yer gonna let yer boy speak fer ya?"
"Don't need…" a groan cuts off my sentence as he lands a punch to my stomach.
"Hope ya weren' pregnant, bitch," he spits.
"Nope," I huff punching him in the crotch. Straightening I halt Pete's charge. "You're just full of bitch moves."
"Call me a bitch one more time."
"Bitch," I overenunciate the word.
The sluggish punches are easily deflected as I get inside his guard. "Walk away," I growl. "You've embarrassed yourself enough."
"Ah'm not done wit you."
Punching the man one last time directly in the mouth, "I'm done with you. Pete, come."
"I'm not your dog."
"But I am protecting your job. Regal hears you're getting into bar fights and you're done. Come. On."
"What about you?"
"What about me," I mutter.
"Regal…"
"I am more than capable of handling Regal. He is more than capable of taking care of me and my bar fights." My phone buzzes in my pocket. "He's coming now. Someone took a video. Gather the others and disappear. I've got this handled."
"Your hand," he motions.
Glancing down, I find my knuckles bleeding.
"Vodka on the rocks," I call to the bartender. Glancing back at the man beside me, "I've got this handled too. Go on."
"Yes ma'am," he sighs.