January 23, 2015

Paul was muttering to himself around the office, picking up papers, taking a quick look at him, crumpling them violently in his hands, then throwing them out. Though this was nothing new to Eleanor, she threw him a skeptical look. She was used to it by now, but it still made her a bit worried. Paul somehow always knew when Eleanor was making a face at him. He looked at her looking at him. "Don't ask."

"Do you need some coffee?" she asked, the first thing that came to mind when she thought of ways to solve whatever his problem was.

"No," he shot down the suggestion quickly.

"Do you need me to leave the office?"

"I need you to tell my where the hell my phone is."

Eleanor called it from her own phone, and Paul's phone began ringing from his pocket. Paul didn't even have the thought to be embarrassed; he took his phone out of his pocket and placed it on his desk, where it would surely be lost again under stacks of papers in less than five minutes.

Eleanor watched him for a few moments before deciding to speak up again. "If you don't tell me what's wrong, I can't help you fix it."

Paul stopped his rummaging and looked at her. "Vince wants to 'pop by' sometime soon to check on things."

The mood immediately changed in the office with that announcement. "Shit…when?" Eleanor asked.

"He won't fucking tell me. Or else it wouldn't be a 'surprise'," Paul said, using air quotes. "I feel like he's trying to rain on my parade."

"He can rain on it all he wants, it won't change how amazing NXT has been since you took over," Eleanor tried to offer some words of encouragement. "Plus, I mean, he's in charge of Raw and Smackdown…and basically everything else. He can't just give you this?"

Paul shrugged his shoulders. "I know he won't take it away from me. But his suggestions are gonna make me bang my head against the wall. All it means is that I'll have to make sure everyone is at the top of their game for the next several weeks. And I'm gonna need your help."

Eleanor smiled. "You know I'll whip the boys into shape. Leave it to me."

XXXXX

Eleanor had no idea where she was going. Ben had texted her the name of some restaurant on Franklin Ave, but it didn't help than Franklin Ave was at least three miles long, and her GPS had led her the wrong way, so now she was being one of those drivers that other drivers hated; the ones that drive slow to look at all the store fronts so they could find where they were going. It was horrible. At least five people had honked at her within the last mile and she was just about ready to call it quits. Right as she was about to connect her Bluetooth and dial Ben's number, she spotted a familiar-looking beard waiting on the sidewalk in front of a restaurant – she knew it was Rami.

She pulled over as much as she could without crashing into the cars that were parked on the street. "Rami!" she yelled. His head whipped up from his phone immediately. "Where's some parking?"

"Just a block that way," he pointed. "You'll see the lot when you make a right. My car's there too."

Eleanor drove to where Rami had pointed and, lo and behold, there was one space left in the tiny lot. She paid the fee and began walking quickly towards the restaurant where Rami was waiting.

"I'm sorry I'm a bit late," she apologized as he noticed her approaching. "My GPS sent me on a wild goose chase. If you've heard people honking for the past five minutes that's been at me."

Rami smiled. "A wild goose chase? Nah, you're fine. Ben and his cousin aren't even here yet."

"Why didn't you guys all come together?"

Rami shrugged his shoulders. "We didn't think of that."

"Boys never think of those things."

The two made small-chat for a while, Rami asking where in town Eleanor was coming from, Eleanor asking how Rami compared the Performance Centre to other places he'd wrestled and trained in. Rami had a nice, easy-going, happy-go-lucky attitude that Eleanor appreciated.

"Is Ben always late?" Eleanor asked as Rami took out his phone.

"Is the sky blue?" he asked rhetorically, making Eleanor laugh. "That guy is gonna be late to his own wedding," he said, unlocking his phone. "Oh, wait…"

"Did he send a text?"

Rami read straight from his phone, "My wanker cousin pre-drank too much and is now vomiting the contents of his stomach. Won't be able to make it."

Eleanor frowned. "Well that sucks," she sighed. She was really looking forward to dinner. "Why would he pre-drink anyway?"

"They probably thought about heading out after dinner, but who knows," Rami answered.

There was an awkward silence between the two. Rami looked at Eleanor and knew he'd kick himself if he didn't take this opportunity. "You still hungry?"

"I'm getting to the point of hangry."

Rami smiled. "Something tells me I wouldn't like it if you get hangry. You wanna just…go for dinner?" he asked timidly.

Eleanor smiled and cocked her head to the side. She brought one hand up to her collarbone and flipped her hand in, feigning a Southern Belle. "Well, I thought you'd never ask."

Rami refused to have them eat in the pub ("The food is decent, but, like…we can do so much better," he reasoned) so they walked along Franklin Avenue until they found a food truck parked that made authentic Mexican tacos. Rami was surprised he didn't have to work hard to convince Eleanor to take some nachos and tacos to go, find a small city park, and eat on a bench. They ordered two of every taco on the small menu and some nachos to share before Google-mapping the nearest park.

"Definitely not the way I saw my night going, but amazing nonetheless," Rami smiled as they began opening the boxes of tacos between them. They were both sitting on the bench, facing each other, with the food boxes between them for easy access.

Eleanor took her first bite into the fish taco and groaned in appreciation. Rami laughed as he was still fiddling with his. "I swear, food out of a truck can beat filet mignon any day of the week."

"I take it's good."

"It's fucking delicious!"

"Yeah, people always underestimate food trucks and how good they can be," Rami lamented as he finally took a bite out of his first taco. His eyes rolled to the back of his head. "Holy crap that's good."

"You need to try this fish taco one, I'm telling you."

Rami bit into the fish taco one and groaned like Eleanor did. "I can't decide which one I like better!"

Eleanor snickered. "I think this truck might be my new favourite go-to comfort food…there's no shot in hell I'll be able to find any bagels down here as half-decent as the ones in Montreal."

Rami froze in his spot. He was midway-bringing-taco-to-his-mouth. Did she just say what he thought she said? "You're from Montreal?!"

"Born and bred."

Rami put the taco down. "You know I'm from Montreal, right?"

Eleanor's eyes went wide. "You are?!"

"I can't believe you're from Montreal!" Rami exclaimed.

"I can't believe I didn't know you're from Montreal! This shit is, like, part of my job!"

"Wait," he regained his composure and become more serious for the moment. "There's only one question that matters." He paused for dramatic effect. "Do you like the Habs?"

Eleanor wanted to scream into the night air. "Is there any other team besides the Habs that even matters?"

Rami had to take a moment to register the new information he learned. He couldn't believe he never heard about her being from Montreal. Certainly she didn't sound like a traditional Montrealer – she had no distinct French Canadian accent – but then again, neither did he. Nobody at NXT ever mentioned it, and he doubted many of the wrestlers knew.

Rami fist pumped into the air dramatically. "Another Montrealer!" he screamed.

"We exist!" she proclaimed after him, pumping her fist into the air too.

"Where did you grow up?" he asked.

"South end. What about you?"

"The north end," he said, taking another bite into his taco. "The better end," he antagonized her.

She played along, narrowing her eyes at his comment. "That's what you think."

As the duo continued to eat their tacos, they reminisced about growing up in Montreal, famous Montreal institutions, restaurants, cafes, hangouts, neighbourhoods, and their mutual love of the Montreal Canadiens. They had different favourites some of the time, but agreed on the important things: where to get the best bagels, poutine, and Montreal smoked meat sandwiches.

Rami patted his belly as the last of the tacos were consumed, watching Eleanor as she gulped the last contents of her can of iced tea. "That was probably one of the best meals I've had in a long time," he confessed.

"Me too," Eleanor agreed, starting to crush the Styrofoam containers and putting them back in the bag. "It's been a long time since I've had tacos in such good company," she smiled.

Rami smiled back widely at the compliment. "Thank you."

"You know, you guys can invite me out whenever," she began to say. A bout of shyness overtook her as she began to speak. She felt uncharacteristically comfortable with Rami – usually it took her much longer to open up to people. "Like…just because I'm Paul's assistant, it doesn't mean I can't go out or be friends with you guys."

Rami smiled at her. "I'll make sure to do that."