Disclaimer: I own all fictional characters only!
STEVE'S POV:
Thank god! One more week and I get to go home to Texas. See my family, see my daughters, see my grandson, and just relax for the next three months. Shit, one
week seems like a goddamn eternity. I'm in my private trailer on the set of my latest movie when I get a phone call.
"Goddamn it."
I place my cup of tea down on the table and look at my cell phone.
Shit. It's Vince. If it wasn't for our epic feud and me opening a can of whoop ass on him, I wouldn't be the household name I am today. Hope he don't want me to do a
one night only appearance because it ain't gonna happen. I have to wrap up this movie this week and I'm not taking on other commitments. End of story.
"Steve." I answer abruptly.
"How's it going, Steve? Did I catch you at a bad time?" Vince asks.
"What's going on, Vince? How you doin'? No, I'm between scenes." I answer to him.
"How's the movie coming along?" He asks next.
See, that's one thing about Vince. When I know he's about to ask me a favor, he beats around the bush. Now don't get me wrong. He's one of my good friends but my
wrestling career is over and I'm not in the mood to do a nostalgia moment right now. I'm just too damn burnt out. My next movie doesn't start filming in another three
months and then I'm doing "Redneck Island 3" after this. I want to enjoy spending time with my dogs, especially Hersh, and hunting on my ranch.
"It's going real well, Vince. Whatcha need?" I tell him.
"A huge, huge favor." Vince answers.
"Vince, we've been through this. No, I'm n-" I start to say but he interrupts me.
"No, no. I'm not gonna ask you to come back for an appearance." Vince says in a "Yeah, yeah. I know the deal" type of tone.
Good but what does he need?
"Then what is it?" I wonder.
"See my best friend, Dominic Taylor, has a-you know who Dominic Taylor is, don't you?" He asks as if I'm supposed to give a fuck.
"Yeah, yeah. Wealthy ass investment and oil tycoon." I tell him vehemently as I turn on the TV to see what's on.
"Yeah. Well he has a 27-year-old daughter named Spencer and I wanna sign her but she has some modeling gigs coming up plus she's hosting a show right
now. She won't have time to train in developmental until that's all done." Vince starts to explain.
"Yeah. So?"
Oh great. Just what the WWE needs…another model.
"So I was wondering if you could train her?" Vince asks.
"What?" I ask, standing up and throwing the remote on the couch in my trailer.
"Steve, come on. Dominic says she wants to be trained by the best Superstar and Diva of all time. Trish already agreed to it. Her husband's company is
relocating to L.A. and she wants to open up a yoga studio in L.A. anyway. You're stationed out in L.A. and Spencer lives in L.A. so it'd work out perfectly." Vince
says, trying to bullshit me.
"No." I simply tell him.
"No? Come on, Steve. He's my best friend and this girl has that it factor. She is going to become the next Trish Stratus or Lita or maybe even surpass them. I
plan on making her the female version of you but she needs the wrestling skills to achieve that." Vince tries to "sell" to me.
I roll my eyes and sigh in frustration.
"Vince, I wrap this movie in another week and I planned on going back to my ranch and relaxing. Hell, my divorce from Kristin just became final. I kinda wanted
to sow my oats a bit too."
"Steve." Vince says in desperation.
"Sorry. I'm burnt out, man. I have three months off and then I start my movie and "Redneck Island 3" ." I tell him without hesitation.
Vince chuckles and says, "Yeah I hear you but Spencer is willing to pay for your services. We're talking $500,000."
What? Now that is a lot of money to pay for training. This chick must really want to wrestler for her to spend, what I'm assuming, is $1 million dollars on wrestling
training. Shit, that's some serious cash but I want to relax.
"Sorry, Vince, but I'm good on that. She has Trish. She'll be okay." I tell him.
"You sure?" Vince asks again.
"Yes."
"Okay. Well? I'll tell Dom and Spence." Vince says.
"Yeah you do that." I tell him as I realize that my TV is on E! and this exotic beauty is laying on a huge rock on a beach in a black skimpy bikini posing while her
picture's being taken.
We say our goodbyes and hang up.
She looks a little familiar. Damn. She's sexy. She looks to be about 20-years-old with the skin color of caramel, almond shaped hazel eyes, shiny and long jet black hair,
I only date blondes so tough break, a body like that Kim Kardashian broad only a million times better, and a smile bright enough to light up freakin' Las Vegas.
I sit down and turn up the volume on the TV and now the scene cuts to some skinny interviewer sitting across from the exotic beauty wearing that sexy ass
bikini but with a cover-up.
Why the fuck am I watching this shit?
"So, I'm here with the beautiful Ms. Spencer Taylor, you look beautiful and it's nice to see you again." The skinny host says.
"Thank you, Giuliana, and it's nice to see you too." Spencer says.
I freeze.
So this is Dominic Taylor's daughter.
I pick up my tea, finish it off, and continue to watch.
"So what are you up to these days besides the modeling and hosting "Make Me Over"?" The host with the weird name asks her.
"Well? I'm about to embark on a completely different path, Giuliana." Spencer replies with a knowing smile.
That is the type of smile that could melt hearts but not this heart. I've replaced it with a cooler filled with beer.
"And that is?"
"Sports entertainment." She answers with a smile.
"Wow." Giuliana says.
"That's right! You've heard her! The gorgeous 27-year-old celebutante has graced the covers of magazines but she now wants to grace a wrestling ring." The host
narrates.
"I've been a huge fan since the age of 6. I grew up looking up to the likes of Ric Flair, Hulk Hogan, Stone Cold Steve Austin, who's one of my favorites, and The
Rock. As far as women go, Trish Stratus, Lita, Molly Holly, the list goes on and on.
I just stare at Ms. Taylor on TV.
Wow. I'm one of her favorites. Flattering but she has" powder puff" written all over her. I don't think she's gonna really give up modeling for pro wrestling. She's just
another pretty face. Good luck, Trish.
There's a knock on my trailer door breaking me out of my train of thought.
"Mr. Austin, you're needed on the set, please." The assistant says.
"Yeah. Thank you." I tell her.
I look once more at the TV and then turn it off.
I've got a grueling fight scene to film.