Chapter Four

On The Spot

"What'd you do in retaliation?"

"Proposed to Candice with the ring."

"Oh, I'm sure that flew over real well."

"Don't know about Mira, but it sure didn't fly with Candice," he laughed.

"I'd imagine so, you cheap bastard. You could have sprung for another ring." They both laughed. Randy changed the subject.

"Anyway, I need to ask you a favor."

"Shoot, man, what's up?"

Mira walked into the MCI Center in Washington, DC, prepared to start her second night as the General Manager of the red brand. She didn't think it could be any worse than the week before.

It was going to be her first night without both Kurt and Trish, and she still felt their departures. Kurt had called her during the week; the wife and kids were enjoying having him home. She felt lonely without him; she saw him as a guiding star, someone who watched out for her and kept her on the right path. She was scared to navigate the rest of her career without him by her side.

Ignoring the mood, she pushed the thoughts of her departed friends from her mind and walked into her office. John was sitting in a chair across from her desk, his hat tipped over his face as though he were sleeping. She shrugged out of her red business jacket, leaving her in a black halter top and red mini skirt.

"Oh, come on - I'm on time!" she told him. She saw the wide smile tug at Cena's face before he bared his teeth. He tipped his hat back onto his head.

"Doesn't mean that I wasn't here before you. Maybe I should be the GM."

"Be my guest," she told him with a snort, sitting in her seat. "Beats the hell out of dealing with Orton every week. That guy makes Heyman look like an angel."

"Now you're just being dramatic," he told her with a laugh.

"You didn't date him."

"Is this some kind of weird way of telling me I should?" he asked. She laughed, shaking her head.

"Did you drink paint or fall on your head or something when you were a kid?" she teased.

"See, now, why you gotta be like that?" he asked. "That hurts, you know."

"You have feelings to hurt?" she asked, feigning surprise. He smirked.

"Jesus, you are hostile. What's the game plan tonight, Mira?"

"I was thinking I'd put you up against Masters. STFU vs. The Master Lock. How's that work?"

"Like a dream."

"I thought you'd be up for it."

He stared at her up and down. She felt herself grow hot under his gaze. "You know me - I'm always up for anything."

"Am I interrupting something?"

Jumping, Mira looked over at Test. "No," she said, shooting daggers at John, who backed off. Damn him for being such a flirt, her mind shrieked. "John was just leaving for his match against Chris Masters."

Obviously defeated, John bid the two of them farewell before leaving. She looked at him. "What's up?"

"I just want to know why you think you're so much better than Randy Orton."

"Excuse me?" His tone had struck a nerve with her. Since he had won the No-Fire clause in his contract a few years back, he had become a real jerk. Not just to referees, but to other women, women like Stacy Keibler and Trish. She didn't like Test, and she disliked that he was stuck there, on her brand. She straightened her spine. "I don't think it's any of your fucking business.

"Do yourself a favor - instead of worrying about my relationships and Randy's relationships, why don't you worry about your own stuff?" She stared at him in utter disgust. "Get out."

"Excuse me?"

"I said get out. You and your 'boy' Randy Orton have a tag team match tonight against the team of D-Generation X." She wanted to add, "And I hope they kick your ass," but she didn't want to get reamed out by the Board for being unprofessional. She knew she was going to have to play it careful around Test and Randy. She pursed her lips into a narrow line until Test stormed out.

Then, there was another knock on her door. "Oh, what now?" she groaned out loud. She stared at her watch. She hadn't been at the arena for half an hour and she was already in a bad mood. "What?"

It was Carlito, and he looked depressed. He'd been dating Trish prior to her departure. He really liked her, and now she was gone. She felt sorry for him. He was throwing an apple languidly into the air and catching it. He was dressed in a tropical print button-down shirt that was wide open, exposing his chest and abs. Khakis completed the look.

"Hey. How are you?" she asked sympathetically.

"Tired," he confessed in his thick Caribbean accent. "Can I sit?"

"You know it. What's on your mind?"

"You can feel the new atmosphere here," he said, "can't you?"

"Yeah," she admitted, "and it's not cool." He chuckled. "What can I do for you?"

"I wanted a shot at the Intercontinental title."

"Jeff Hardy is the number one contender, but I will tell you what. How about I stick you three - Nitro, included - in a three way elimination battle for it?" He nodded, and got up to leave.

"Oh, before I go," he told her. "Coach is out in the ring. He's calling you out, and from the sounds of it, I think your night is about to get a little bit more interesting."

She groaned. What did he want?

Jonathan Coachman in a ring normally doesn't symbolize anything good. Mira already knows this. So what does he have in store for her now?