Chapter Seven: Business is Business

"Get me some stills and video of him warming up in the ring and in the gym. And interview his surgeon and trainer if you can," Eddie went on franticly. Adrienne wore a frown as she listened to the editor bark orders at her. She hadn't met Edward Wright in person yet and at this point she didn't want to. He embodied the term 'fast-pace work environment'. He probably bled caffeine too.
"I want the fans to see how much work and dedication he's put in to make it back. The Federation's landscape is different without him. Never thought I say it but even the fans would've missed him. Now get to work and make it happen!"
"Yes, sir! Nothing I can't handle," she cried with feigned enthusiasm. Adrienne rested her head on the scattered manuscripts on the desk and groaned. She had been putting off going to the rehab centre. If she went she would have to face… him. He had apologised for his behaviour when they went out—he felt really bad about it, in fact. She downplayed it to him because it shouldn't matter. It was a mistake. No biggie. Besides, that was almost a month ago.

Liar, liar, pants on fire! He's always on your mind like white on rice. You want to play The Game.
God, yes.

The things he made her feel with just one kiss scared her. Time stood still and nothing else mattered but that moment. What if he were able to do more than a kiss…

Oh, no you don't. Perish the thought. Kill it with fire.

She had no control when he touched her; she was putty in his hands. He was possessive and demanding yet tender and protective. It replayed in her mind like countless times before each time making her even more concerned. They were friends. He'd wanted them to be friends. They could be friends still, right?

Right. You know can't be friends. Not when you're so vulnerable to him. You should just forget about him. Just do your job and get out. You don't need this kind of bacchanal in your life.

"Bacchanal is right," she groaned.

Sorry Hunter. But business is business.

"Hi, I have an appointment with Dr. James Andrews."
The receptionist at the rehab centre smiled at Adrienne as she gestured for her to take a seat. Adrienne had some feelings of trepidation being in the same building as Hunter but especially because she didn't want to run into him. She had come here today to conduct an interview with Hunter's orthopaedic surgeon.

"Ms. Kelly? Dr. Andrews is here," the receptionist confirmed. But before Adrienne could get up Dr. Andrews walked up to meet her.

"Nice to meet you, my dear," Dr. Andrews said taking her hand in both of his. The doctor was a short man with white hair and kind eyes that hid behind thin-framed spectacles and, a friendly face. Adrienne smiled back at him. He had an apologetic look.
"I'm sorry, but an emergency came up and I'm afraid I'll have to put off our meeting."
"Oh, okay," she replied half-relieved.
"But, I'm free this evening. You should come by, I'll be available then."
"Won't tomorrow be better?"
"Oh, no. I insist. I will be out of town tomorrow." Adrienne gave up.

"Guess I'll see you this evening, Doctor." She managed a smile.
"Please, call me James. If you want I can have the boys leave a room open for you, just in case." Adrienne raised her brow.
"Just in case…?"
"Just in case the surgery I'm about to perform runs a little longer than expected," he smiled, pushing the frames up on his nose. "You're free the use the exercise room if you want, you know—all access as a WWF employee."
"You know, I might just take you up on that," she grinned as she shook Dr. Andrews' hand.

Adrienne pulled into the rehab centre parking lot and shut of the engine. The evening air had a crisp bite to it and she pulled her hoodie closed with her free hand. It was after hours at the centre when she arrived. Evening security was expecting her and they escorted her to a different section to the back of the building. The led her to a medium sized fitness room. One side of the room was a wall of mirrors. The floor was clear except for fitness equipment and machines and a few random chairs to the opposite wall. The floor was padded with a deep blue foam material. There was a small CD player in a corner. Dr. Andrews was right and had indeed still been in surgery. It was about eight thirty.

Adrienne pulled a CD out of her bag and popped it into the player. She slid out her hoodie and threw it down next to the stereo. She stretched her arms and legs out and jogged on the spot a bit then rolled her shoulders and neck. Maybe a good workout is what she needed to give her mind some clarity. She continued stretching her hamstrings.

Hunter pulled off his headphones as he put the last dumbbell back on the rack. He grabbed his towel off the bench and mopped at his brow. He glanced up at the wall clock—it was already after eight. When he was in the gym he was 100% focused and in the zone. When he pushed his body to brink and back was when he was most at peace. Of course, he found it more difficult to focus because of Adrienne. He needed to speak with her and clear up any misunderstandings. He'd decided to card his return for January 4th at a house show. His first televised appearance would be on Monday Night RAW on January 7th 2002. Hunter missed the ring and the roar of the crowd. He wondered sometimes if the fans would still remember him; they could be a fickle bunch. It didn't matter—he had overcome this challenge just like he always does.

Hunter drained the last of his water and tossed the bottle into a bin on his way out the weight room. Walking out he heard the faint thumping of a lively bassline echoing from the opposite end of the hallway.

Strange. No one's usually back here this late.

His feet patted along the corridor as he got closer to the source of the music. The music stopped by the time he peered through the glass window of the fitness room's door. What he saw rooted him to where he stood. His eyes were saucers and his mouth flew open.

Adrienne switched CDs and pressed play. The pulsating opening bassline to Machel Montano's 'Come Dig It' boomed out the speakers. The acoustics in the room were incredible. Adrienne struck a pose as the opening in a sequence of dance moves that looks to the uninitiated a quality choreography piece. Her body movements were fluid yet controlled. She moved her hips and ground rolls. She was freeing herself. Forgetting the stress of her project and the looming deadline, her bossy editor but especially Hunter.

Hunter's jaw was on the floor. The expressive movements of the lone dancer were hypnotic. She wore black lycra shorts and a matching fitted crop top that fit like a second skin. Her blonde roped locks splayed about her with each movement. There was… so much hip gyrations. Her body was toned and her ass was… glorious. Hunter's mouth was getting dry. He couldn't look away. The dancer was now doing a sequence of jumps, kicks and splits. Hunter closed his mouth just realising he had been holding his breath. His had made the door click open slightly just as the music faded into silence. Adrienne spun on her heels towards the noise. Their eyes locked and the same piercing thought went through their heads…

Fuck.

Adrienne ran to the corner to shut off the stereo. Hunter pushed the door open further and stepped into the room. She turned to face him. She was still breathing heavy and he skin was slick with sweat.

"How much did you see?" She bit down on her lip. Hunter grinned at her.
"Enough to know that soca music is life," he laughed. She felt the heat creeping up her cheeks.
"That was soca music, right?" he nodded at the stereo. She was flattered that he had remembered that little detail about her. Her smile faded.

Remember, with Hunter business is business.

"Yeah. I was just finishing up anyway." She pulled on her hoodie quickly and retrieved her CD and bag.
"Good night," she said coolly as she walked past him. Hunter had a confused look on his face. He grabbed her hand as we passed him.

"Wait. Please?" he asked sheepishly. Adrienne plastered a bored look on her face. Hunter exhaled. Being so close to her especially the way she'd looked had him on edge.

"What's with the attitude? Look, I said I was sorry about the other night. I really am. I'm not sure what came over me. That doesn't mean we can't be civil to each other."

Adrienne looked up at him closely. His hair was pulled back into a messy knot and a towel hung across a broad bare shoulder. He held a small gym bag with a weight belt and cut-off tee bundled out from it. She was face-to-face with chest real estate. It took everything not to run his fingers along his stomach and lower.

"We are civil. We're talking right now, aren't we?" She knew he knew she was purposefully avoiding him. She held a hand up to him.
"Look, nothing happening Hunter. I'm sorry if you feel bent outta shape but just stop. No harm done. I don't know what your intentions are but I didn't feel anything," she snapped. She could see the rage brewing in his eyes but she continued.
"Just leave it alone. I'm an intern. I can't afford to lose my job over you. I'm not a groupie Hunter. You need to focus on your training and on your wife!"

Hunter was furious now. The fury consumed him.

Who does she think she is?!

"That's what you think?! That's how you want this to be? Fine!" he growled at her. He tried to compose himself.
"You're not some groupie to me, Adrienne. You're… it's… complicated…" he faltered.
"Doesn't matter. It's just maybe a month and half or so till my deadline. I'll hurry it along so we can both be out of each other's life soon enough," she quipped back defiantly.
"Now please excuse me, I have to find Dr. Andrews."

Hunter swore and tossed the gym back violently across the room as the door clicked close. Adrienne's eyes brimmed with hot tears as she marched down the corridor.

Business is business Hunter. This is all it could ever be.