Uncommon Bond
Chapter 19
Rated – NC-17/MA
Author: Batistafan(given name, given on request)
THIS IS THE SEQUEL TO UNCOMMON SENSE – If you have not yet read the first story, doing so may better help you to piece together the events and characters of this fiction…enjoy!
Disclaimer: This is a mature fanfiction intended for mature readers. This story contains graphic violence, as well as explicit, mature, consensual sexual situations and these would not be deemed appropriate for all readers.
I do not own nor claim to have any affiliation with the WWE, its characters, wrestlers, staff or other affiliates. I do own any original characters that I have created, as well as scenarios that ensue throughout the course of this fiction. However, since both my characters and scenarios are inexorably intertwined with those of the WWE, my ownership of them is not autonomous.
I do not endorse nor do I discourage the use of any brand-name products that might be referenced in the fiction and have no claim to them as they are property of their respective companies of license. Thank you kindly for not suing.
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This chapter is dedicated to my Grandfather, Preston Othell Hadaway, who taught me how to whistle, how to change the oil in my car and made it perfectly acceptable for us to beg our parents to stay an extra week at their house in the summer!
You will be missed!
November 4th, 1923 – July 29th, 2006.
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"A woman can forgive a man for the harm he does her...but she can never forgive him for the sacrifices he makes on her account."
W.
Somerset Maugham, The Moon
and Sixpence
English dramatist & novelist (1874 - 1965)
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"What if we just, sort of sent them on their way?" Barren asked, seated comfortably in the cradle of Randy's body as the two reclined on the sofa watching the veritable lightshow created by the wickedly thrashing thunderstorm. "What if we forced them to go on a date and then offered to watch Audrey and Vanessa?"
Randy rolled his fingertips over Barren's arms and laughed softly at the suggestion. "He's one of the most stubborn people I've ever met…you can't force a man like Dave Batista to do anything." Randy explained as a clap of thunder preceded by a blinding flash of light, shook the rafters above them. "You can suggest that he should do something and then hope for the best…but if you try to get pushy, you can end up with a few less teeth in your mouth."
Barren nodded, relishing the feel of her back pressed against Randy's chest. "Okay, so we can nicely suggest that he let us keep his kids while he sweeps his wife away for a couple of days."
"Why?"
Barren clasped Randy's insubordinate hands together between her own in an attempt to stymie their rebellious foray. "Well, because Nancy seems so honestly stressed and I think that if we could manage to get the two of them alone with no outside interference, except for maybe the intrusion of some room service, then their marriage might normalize."
"Oh, come on, Barren…their marriage is fine." Randy assured in a low voice.
"She's having doubts." Barren told him gently, hesitantly. "Obviously not remembering anything, on top of the rumors at the hospital and the fact that they've had no time alone has something to do with it…She feels no connection to him, right now." A monumental lie that she hated to tell, but she knew that if she didn't give the entire situation a nudge toward the edge that it might never start rolling toward resolution on its own. And it certainly wouldn't clear the way for her to regain possession of her key. "Nancy told me that if her memory doesn't return soon that she's thinking of leaving him."
The statement was as far from the truth as anything could have been, especially when Barren recalled the way Nancy had admitted during their lunch earlier that she was going to cease trying so hard to piece her past back together and just let herself experience what God had given her. Nancy had even admitted to Barren that she had the strangest feeling she and her husband were making an emotional connection and that even though she was hesitant, she was determined to make an honest effort to rebuild the connections. Barren could never reveal the true gist of the conversation to Randy. She knew that in order to get into the house and have a thorough search, she would have to insert a sense of urgent urgency into the plan, even if she had to be deceitful in order to do so.
Randy sat up, disturbed by what he'd just heard. "I can't believe she would go to that extreme, are you sure she wasn't kidding?" His brow creased and he chewed his lip in perplexity. "That just doesn't even sound like her."
"How many of the things that she's done lately, have been ordinary, Randy…think about it." Barren informed him. "She made me promise not to say anything, but I hate to keep a secret like this. That's why we have to help out…because I think it would be a serious problem if she left."
"It sure as hell would be a problem and Dave would never let it happen." He said firmly, envisioning the temper-fit he knew would follow a revelation of that magnitude. "Besides that, I don't know where in the hell she thinks she would go…" Randy said, "She has no family…I don't know all the details, but she really has nowhere to go…except maybe to Max's parents. And I know Dave well enough to know he's not just gonna hand her the money and give her his blessing, especially when there's a baby involved. He would come uncorked at the mere suggestion." A troubled sigh vibrated past his lips, another problem that he had no solution for, and no desire to add to the list of the ones he currently faced.
"Okay, so don't you think we should keep this little secret to ourselves and do some behind the scenes manipulation of their itineraries?" Barren felt a rapid stab of contrition for her lie, followed by sadness for the betrayal of her new friend. "You know that if we tell him, he'll likely flip out and confront her, then she'll either crawl back into her shell or take off into the sunset…it could get nasty."
He nodded, knowing that it could. Randy still couldn't dismiss the feeling of sheer confusion and shock over the thought that Nancy would be wishing to leave. Even through the smoke of her amnesia she certainly had been given every opportunity to see what a wonderful life she had. It baffled and troubled him, but it also reminded him that it was his fault she was in this position to begin with. The fact that he had plowed into a tree while giving her a ride was the sole reason for her loss of memory and the birth of all of the doubt that apparently had her wishing to leave her husband. Randy felt obligated to help whether he was equipped to or not. "Well, I suppose we could try something."
Barren smiled and then announced excitedly. "It can't be anything where they are gone more than a day or two, because her doctor won't allow it."
Randy nodded slowly, lost in thought. "And Dave has several commitments, with the pay-per-view and his endorsement deal with MuscleTech…" He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "How do you fit a lifetime worth of romance into an overnight getaway?"
"You don't." Barren told him, turning around and straddling his legs. "You just set up the getaway and the rest happens on it's own…it doesn't even have to seem like the right place and the right time, because if they love each other, then it will be right…just like it is with us."
Randy was sure she hadn't meant for it to sound like an admission of love, but it had…it had to his ears. He curled his hands around her hips and stared up at her, watching the lightning cast a rusted crimson glow to her auburn tresses. He could almost imagine that she did love him. Not that it mattered, because no matter how he felt about her, no matter how quickly he found himself falling for her, he still had the sense that her heart belonged to someone else. And just maybe…it always would. "He leaves for Los Angeles for the Pay-Per-View in two days…the best we could hope for is to somehow engineer it so that she ends up going with him."
"That's perfect!" Barren smiled. "If we work it right, then they'll be back to normal in no time."
Randy sighed, reluctant to meddle with Dave's schedule. It was a bit like tugging a tiger's tail. "Why does this seem like such a twisted version of 'The Parent Trap'?" He had visions of himself trying to find a place to hide. "And why do I get the feeling that I'm gonna regret this?"
Barren shrugged, and then the two set about the task of planning a very covert getaway for two completely unsuspecting people.
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With no electricity for several hours, Dave had been spared the awkwardness of sitting through the taped episode of SmackDown with the fear of his wife and daughters noticing the tension between himself and Candice the Vamp. But that, was last night…and now it was morning, her side of the bed was empty and the sounds of breakfast and loud chatter were floating upward from the lower floor as he pushed himself up from the mattress.
Dave could hear the clamor of Max's voice, along with the musical tinkle of Audrey's laughter and he turned the corner in time to see milk come out of her nose. Vanessa was shaking her head in humorous disgust at Max and Audrey but it was the familiar sounds of Michael Cole and Tazz in their descriptive commentary that caused his head to spin around, taking his body with it. Hammering in his chest, his heart knew that she would sense the tension and hesitation even through a television screen, even through the cloak of her amnesia…and he was scared shitless.
Cross-legged on the sofa, she was leaning as far forward as her very round belly would allow, immersed in the match between Michelle McCool and Jillian Hall. Maybe if he suggested teaching her how to cook, then he could possibly drag her away from the television before she could see his interaction with Candice. She must have known he was in the room even though he hadn't yet made any noise, for she turned her head and smiled slightly.
Nancy watched the match with more than just interest. Some element about the athleticism in the match piqued her curiosity. "Why is this familiar to me?" Her voice was laced with excitement and her face was lit with inquisitiveness.
The flushing of her cheeks as she watched made her all the more attractive to him and he sat down beside her, prompted as much by desire, as by a need to fill her in on the reason for her recognition. "You have a little first hand knowledge of it."
"Maybe it's just because I watch you wrestle." She angled a glance sideways. "It's weird though, it feels like I know the moves…how do I know that that's an arm drag?"
Dave stared at the screen watching Michelle roll to her feet after the arm drag and then he spoke. "It's a long story, but you've wrestled before." He didn't know that he had the time it would take to explain to her how she'd unwittingly incited the anger of a scheming General Manager and been put in a match in order to learn a lesson. Nor could he accurately detail how she'd been blackmailed and had cemented her feelings for him by helping him win a match that she had been required to lose, and furthermore he didn't know that she would even believe him.
"Oh, yeah right." She laughed in disbelief and then returned her attention to the television.
Max supplied his own affirmation. "It's true…you did wrestle before…two matches…" He winked when he saw both Nancy and Dave twist their heads around acknowledging his presence. "You won both of them."
"I think you're both lying." She dismissed them with lighthearted laughter, but inside she had her doubts. What if they weren't teasing? Was it possible that she had toyed around with some aspect of wrestling? Even now as she watched, she could see every move telegraphed on the screen of her brain, the same way that the pattern for Vanessa's dress had been, the night she'd seen it in the trash. Every move was as easily recognizable as any inherent thing could be…the drop-kick, the elbow, a chest chop, followed by a chorus of 'Wooo's'…and that seemed oddly familiar though she couldn't know for certain why. It was extremely interesting and slightly frightening, knowing that she knew, but not knowing how it was that she knew. The match was over in short order and then the commentators announced that Dave's match was next…strangely her heart sped up when she heard them announce it…but she would never admit that to him.
Knowing that his match was next, Dave made a last ditch effort to tear her from the television. "So," He stood and stretched, fighting for a good excuse as he made his way toward the television intent on shutting it off. "I thought we could head out and look through some shops and see if we can find anything that we might need for the baby."
He caught the tiny variance in her expression that let him know that she saw right through his attempted excuse.
She motioned gently with her hand for him to move out of the way as she lifted the remote in order to raise the volume. "Are you afraid for me to see your match?"
Damn her intuition!
He frowned and denied it. "No." the slightest air of irritation for her knowing bubbled up within him and he stood in the spot contemplating whether he should step forth and turn the set off anyhow.
Brows lifted and with a twinkle in her green eyes, she gently waved him away. "Could you please move."
"You would actually prefer to sit around here all morning and watch a wrestling match instead of shopping?" He asked, unable to disguise his annoyance. This brought forth curious glances from both of his daughters.
"You were right when you told me the other night that I had bought everything we needed for the baby." Nancy informed him, coolly. "Barren and I inventoried it all and there's nothing missing…now could you please move…just a foot or two that direction." She held her laughter when she saw him huff ever so slightly as he stepped out of the way.
He watched his wife adjust to accommodate her belly and then she fast forwarded through the commercials until the matches resumed.
"Isn't he just scary?" Audrey asked as her father began his entrance and the pyrotechnics boomed and flashed.
"Not really." Nancy told her with a sniff. But that was a lie and she knew it. There was definitely something magnificently terrifying about Dave Batista. Not in the way that she was fearful of him…because she wasn't, not anymore anyhow. It was simply in the way that he cast such a massive presence wherever he went, whatever he wore, however he spoke. No matter what he happened to be doing, people listened, people watched, people took note of him. Even now with a half pout on his face across the room, he was still imposing. He seemed to fill the room and she knew even as her empty brain began scrambling for a time and place when she'd seen that blessedly adorable look, that he could be as gentlemanly as he was beastly. Even then she knew that he could tenderly explain the jumble of clouded memories to a forgetful wife or back the entire world into a corner with only a look.
He was in the ring for mere seconds the match quickly beginning when a woman, a very beautiful woman took her place at the top of the ramp with a microphone.
"Who's that?" Nancy asked, pretending that the flash of irritation she felt wasn't jealousy.
"She's the leather bag with boobs." Audrey announced earnestly.
Nancy's head whipped around in shock. "What?"
Audrey nodded perfunctorily. "That's what Daddy says she looks like without make-up on."
Nancy arched a brow and turned toward Dave Batista who was staring down at his feet, shaking his head. Lifting his gaze, feeling the heat of embarrassment as a flush crept up to his face, he knew that a slight explanation was in order. "Well I didn't say it to her…I mean, she wasn't supposed to hear it…I was telling Randy…and she must've…" He sighed and frowned, silently reminding himself to keep a tight reign on his tongue whenever Audrey was within a mile.
The slightest grin swept across Nancy's features and she shook her head turning back to the screen where she could plainly hear the interaction between the wrestlers. The woman certainly didn't look like a leather bag with boobs at the moment…she looked oddly, like a very saucy siren…a woman scorned. The match, of course, ended with Dave being submitted and Nancy placed the remote softly on the table in front of her.
'Here it goes' Dave thought to himself. 'She knows.' This would be the time when she would retreat to the bedroom until she could find the right way to ask him if he had been sleeping with Candace before their marriage. It would surely be a setback in what he had begun to think of as the path back to normalcy.
Damn her inquisitive nature!
She stood and then after a moment of deafening silence announced. "I'm pretty disappointed."
Dave Batista was prepared to bury his head in the sand…she would surely blame him for whatever it was she was disappointed by, because she couldn't remember him so he was as easy a target as any for an arrow of blame. He took a deep breath preparing for the verbal dart.
"I was hoping for at least some sort of huge slamming move, or a big kick to the head or something." Nancy said with one hand planted on her hip and the other in a gesture of exasperation. "Audrey had me all worked up thinking I was gonna see you do that 'Bomb thing' she says you do and all that was, was…well…I don't know about you, but if I paid good money to go see a show and expected my favorite wrestler to have a match…" She continued on as her face screwed into a mask of contemptuous puzzlement. "…and all I got was her and two minutes of pushing and shoving…I'd be pretty darned…" Nancy wasn't fully able to insert an adjective fitting of her disappointment.
Dave had scarcely been able to breathe and finally all of the air that had been lodged in his lungs came out in a slow, silent 'whoosh'. If she had noticed the nervousness on camera, and he suspected she had, she certainly wasn't letting on. But he was no fool. He wasn't about to probe deeper and explain the match or Candace's involvement in the storyline. And yet the slight boost to his ego at the knowledge that she had been watching, anticipating a power move from him was just as swiftly replaced by the need to prove that he was a better wrestler than had been showcased on the screen just seconds ago. "I have other tapes of my matches." He kept the insistent tone out of his voice as he followed behind her into the kitchen where she had gone. "I could always get those out if you wanna see them."
She turned and smiled, a soft laugh escaping her lips as her tongue darted out to rewet them. "I said I was disappointed not faithless…I know you're a great wrestler…or else why would you have been so irritated when that other wrestler put you in that 'Full Nelson' when you weren't expecting it?" Her expression flickered between soft and questioning to bewilderment. "I wish I knew how I know that was a 'Full Nelson'…Anyway you would have to be a great wrestler to have made it look as if it had been planned, right?"
Dave was almost skull blocked as he listened to her intuition which he was certain would have been meant for his condemnation, but was used for his defense. But if she knew about the improvisation of the angle, if she had been able to tell that he was truly angry about the submission move, she likely would also know in that womanly way, about his nervousness over Candace…but she wasn't saying a word about it…and that alone was enough to put the fear of God Almighty within him "Well thanks for your faith in me." He meant it as he said it, but was cut short from any further comments by the ringing of the doorbell.
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"I was supposed to have given it back to the jeweler over a week ago." Samantha told her friend Avery, as she backed out of the driveway in her silver Jeep. "I just got busy and forgot about it."
A lie…she had been thinking about it every waking moment since she'd made the decision to break off her engagement to Randy Orton in order to pursue her true feelings for her ex-fiancé. She had been plagued by the thoughts of treachery every time she opened the top drawer of her desk and glanced at the lovely token of Randy's affection. And here and now, it sparkled like a firecracker on her delicate finger as her hand rested on the steering wheel while she drove toward the strip mall where the jewelry store was located. It probably wasn't proper for her to have donned the diamond moments ago, being as their now defunct relationship dictated that she not do so, but she couldn't help it. She had to feel its weight on her hand just once more.
"What about the invites?" Avery asked. "Did you cancel them in time for your parents to get their money back on those?"
A sigh of regret, "Nope, I didn't" almost three-hundred invitations had already been sent out to various family and friends and innumerable colleagues on both sides of the wedding party. Avery knew that and so Samantha suspected her question might have been a deliberate jab. And now sadly Samantha's mother had been forced to once more, commission the printer in an endeavor to create a classy cancellation notice on heavyweight cardstock, befitting the upstanding position that Samantha's family held in society. It was to read:
Dearest Family and Friends,
It is with much regret that we announce the nullification of the impending marriage of our daughter, Miss Samantha Elise Whitten to Mr. Randall Keith Orton on March 20th at 4:00 P.M. at St. Horatio Annex. All parties involved have split amicably and resumed lives where they desire only the best for one another and duly wish that their respective privacies be esteemed.
The return of any and all gifts meant for the newly married pair should be expected before spring and the reimbursement of costs associated with travel and lodging for the guests of the bride should be referred to our accountant. His contact information is on the following page.
Please accept our apologies in this unfortunate time as we wish only for the very best and brightest in the futures of these two individuals who have deemed it imperative that they seek life and career in their own individual directions.
God Bless You,
Doctor. & Mrs. Phillip Whitten.
The cancellation was to be mailed out within the next twenty-four hours, as demanded by proper decorum and would be the final nail in the coffin that was her relationship to Randy. It would truly be over the minute those cards hit the mail…of course despite her family's high station, her mother had practically spit nails of her own when Samantha had announced that she wouldn't be marrying Randy. Her mother's anger and mortification were due mostly in part to the horror of explaining to her fellow socialites that her well-cultured, well-read, well-bred daughter was backing out of a half-million dollar wedding…one that Samantha herself had insisted on, despite her father's resistance to her marrying an athlete other than a professional golfer.
All of her mother's lies and attempts at damage control in the very beginning of Samantha's relationship were now…all for naught. Mrs. Whitten had barely gotten her very fickle group of lady friends to accept the fact that Samantha was marrying below her station, into…of all things…a family of professional wrestlers. And now, she was left to the task of playing nursemaid to the battered façade of her daughter's perfect little debutante image. Samantha was fairly positive that her mother would rather endure having her toenails plucked out with pliers than be left to explain to the junior-league and ladies auxiliary how her precious little girl had shimmied out of the society wedding of the year and fallen right back into the arms of a man that her mother hated worse then 200 thread-count cotton sheets.
But it couldn't be helped…Samantha had to know for certain…she just had to know if there was anything left there in her heart for Daniel. There was no way she could have married Randy when there had been no closure, no finality in her relationship with Dan. It wouldn't have been fair to Randy…and it wouldn't have been fair to her. Watching her mother and father in a loveless relationship was torture. Wealth and power and privilege were nothing when you didn't have love driving them in the right direction. And as strongly as she felt about Randy…and despite the fact that she had told him she was in love with him…she still couldn't follow through until she knew for sure that there was nothing left for her in Daniel's heart.
"You should be getting the 'Memo' in a few days." She told Avery, referring to the cancellation notice. "Mom and Dad are having everything returned, cancelled…eighty-sixed…don't be surprised if my trust fund ends up chapter thirteen'd before it's all over."
"Your mother must be livid." Avery observed. "What about your Dad."
Samantha knew her father was just shy of elated over the split, though he would never voice it. His dislike for Randy had more to do with Randy's choice of career than Randy himself.
"He'll get over it quicker than she will, I'm sure." Samantha knew that the wedding hadn't even made a dent in his checkbook and so she felt a little less culpable.
Ending the conversation, she pulled into the drive-up of Starbucks, intent on drowning her sorrows in a double tall caramel macchiato, on her way to return the engagement ring to Randy's jeweler.
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His mouth had gone dry the moment his addled brain demanded that he recall the words he and Barren had practiced just moments ago in the car, leaving Randy to try to swallow a lump that felt more like a hairball than anything.
Dave slouched in the leather chair behind his desk, a humorless smile on his angular face as he contemplated the four word suggestion blurted out at him by his long time friend.
"You need a vacation." Was what Randy had said.
"I don't need a vacation…" Dave insisted. 'I need for my wife to stop taunting me with her presence and her perfume and to remember me before I die in celibacy!'
He spoke the last part in his mind.
Randy cleared his throat and rounded the desk. "Sure you do…and I can tell you from experience that no one else on the roster is particularly fond of you when you're in a bad mood." Rewarded with a fierce scowl that homed in on his point, Randy continued. "Besides in about two-weeks, you're not going to get a true vacation for another eighteen years."
Dave huffed at Randy's observation as he stared at the scuff mark that his friend's shoe was leaving on the top of his desk, where he had propped his feet.
"And wouldn't it help tip the scales for you if you somehow managed to sweep your wife off of her feet again…or at least proved to her that you're not the ogre she thinks you are?"
"Did she say that?" Dave asked in perturbed surprise.
"No, she didn't." Randy smiled. "What I meant was…"
"It's a nice idea, but it's not going to happen." Dave explained, as he gestured toward his day planner. "I have a pay-per-view and Angie won't be back from Hawaii for another week…so I have the girls until then—"
"I know." Randy blurted. "I have a plan for all that…" Excitedly he began to launch into his rehearsed itinerary, suddenly able to voice it with all of the skill he put into his promos. "Obviously I have nothing on the books for another couple of months, so I can house sit for you, and with Barren here we can handle Vanessa and Audrey…while you take Nancy to L.A. with you for the pay-per-view." Though satisfied with himself, he watched for any sign of disgust on the face of his friend before continuing. "We know where the school is and I for one am strong enough to withstand Audrey's begging. She won't miss a day, I swear it."
"Nancy's doctor won't allow her to travel." Dave inserted, shooting down Randy's suggestion.
"Weeelll, technically he wouldn't be that put out about it." Randy announced hesitantly.
Dave's face hardened. "You talked to her doctor?" his lips were a thin line.
"No, but…" Randy was scrambling for the answer. "Barren went with her last week to the appointment and since Nancy's specialist is from L.A. and travels here for her appointments, wouldn't it be all the better if she were there instead of here if something were to go wrong?"
"And how in the bloody hell do you know where he's from?" Dave asked wondering how far his pal had gone to retrieve information in order to orchestrate a vacation for him.
"I just made an unofficial inquiry…just surface questions, I swear." Randy held two fingers up in scouts honor. "The flight is only two and a half hours non-stop, no switching planes, no lay-over…she'll be fine." He pulled the ticket-less itinerary from his back pocket, having already paid the couple's fare and slid it forward in the desk.
"What the hell are you getting out of this?" Dave grumbled, spearing Randy with a scowl.
"Oh come on." Randy frowned, leaning back and propping his feet on the desk again. "As if you think I have ulterior motives."
"Nope, it's a no-go." Dave remained firm, crossing his muscular arms over his chest for emphasis. His face was a mask of stony contempt, his resolute stoicism etched there as if from the birth of time. And then after he saw Randy's lips tighten in anger and frustration, he reached forth, "And get your goddamned feet off my desk!" He exploded, shoving Randy's size twelve off of the edge of the rustic desktop.
Randy stood up, suddenly, a hard edge to his expression. "You're the most bullheaded sonuva bitch I ever laid eyes on!"
Dave couldn't help but laugh as a sardonic smile drifted to his lips, teasing and tugging them, tempting him to laugh. "Trying to make up for your mistake, huh, Randy?"
"Hell no." Randy bit out. "I already paid for that one…it was an accident and we all know it!" He took a step back making certain he was out of arm's reach before continuing. "What I'm trying to do is get you to fight for your marriage before your damned stubborn streak lands you in the single's ad of the local paper!" Before Dave could speak, Randy cut him short. "You keep hammering her to remember the past, to be the same woman as she was before and you won't even try to show her how much she means to you the way she is…just you. Not the whole family…your girls, even though that's important…but she needs to know what she means…to you. Take her to L.A. and spoil her like you did when she had the ability to remember. She's worth it, isn't she?"
Dave sighed and viewed Randy through a sideways glance, but he said nothing, instead preferring to kick around Randy's words in his jumbled brain.
"It's only two days, but it could make all the difference in the world." Randy told him. "And the added bonus is that she'll get to be in an arena full of people that she knew before…it could bring her full circle and she could come home with her memory…and the both of you could come home with your marriage intact."
"That could set her up for a bunch of difficult questions." Dave insisted.
"True, but she's a crafty gal…she'll be fine."
"She could always refuse to go with me." Again Dave tossed up an excuse.
"And you are a crafty fellow." He supplied. "You could make her go…we could send Barren and Nancy out for coffee and pack her bags for her while she's gone and then you could always tell her that you're taking her to look at another house you wanna buy…something like that."
"Oh, well that's indispensable marital advice; Gain your wife's affections by underhanded means." He shook his head, silently ridiculing the idea. "That's bound to get her trust…especially when we get to the airport in L.A. and I have to tell her what a damn liar I am…there's some 'fine print' for her!"
"Okay, so maybe that's not the way to do it, but…" Randy sighed frowning. "Damn man…if it were me…I-I mean, if she was my wife…if it were my marriage, I'd fight for it, 'fine print' and all."
Judging by the look on Randy Orton's face, Dave knew that he had the very best of intentions, no matter that he'd not truly worded his plea properly. Dave also knew that his young friend was right. Dave would have spent a fortune if it meant that there was even a chance of things returning to normal…if there was an opportunity that she would be normal again. It couldn't hurt could it? Two days in his company under other circumstances might be the equivalent of a week in hell, and he owed it to her…to himself to make every effort to show her that he wasn't giving up.
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"Not having second thoughts, are we?" The heavily accented Irish voice floated over Samantha's shoulder tickling her ear and she turned to face the jeweler who stood behind the counter in a proud grey suit.
"Pardon me?" Samantha asked.
"The ring." He stated, casually pointing to her finger. "It's one of the finest I ever had in my case."
"Oh." She laughed nervously. She was slightly tempted to think that he'd been referring to her relationship and not the ring. "No, I-I was just thinking about something." She slid the ring off of her delicate finger.
"Randy was enthralled by that diamond." The jeweler said wistfully. "Three carat marquise…flawless…I can see why he chose it for you."
Flattered by the man's silky-tongued speech, Samantha blushed. "You remember him choosing it?"
"Who wouldn't?" The jeweler shrugged. "A man like me sells a diamond like this once in a lifetime." He saw guilt or perhaps regret ripple across her finely schooled features. Good. She should feel guilty. "Besides, he's been calling about its return for more than a week now."
"He has?" Samantha asked suddenly struck timid by the revelation. Knowing she shouldn't ask didn't stop her. "Did he…I mean, how was he? H-how did he sound?"
A cryptic tilt of his head and the jeweler weighed his words carefully. "Well as fine a gentleman as Mr. Orton is, let's just say it's probably best that the two of you part ways now rather than later."
"Why is that?" Samantha ventured.
"I shouldn't have speculated." He said quickly, and held his hand out for the ring. "I just know that he'll be happy to have this back."
Taking a deep breath, Samantha dropped the ring into the man's hand and smiled, nodding. "Well, if there's nothing else, I'll just be going."
"Take care now." Evan said to Samantha's retreating back and he lifted the polishing cloth, shining the fabulous thirteen-thousand dollar ring as he watched Randy's former fiancé drive away in her jeep completely oblivious that his warm and eager tongue had been on her flesh little more than two days prior.