The following day…

"Vince is pissed."

Olivia's face remained neutral. Bill and Sara had just finished commending her effort at the tapings on Wednesday; shed arrived early to help set up the ring, she'd done everything they'd asked of her during her match, and then spent the next two hours assisting where needed. Bill had even looked impressed. Then he'd said the word "but" heavily, and Olivia braced herself. She didn't expect what he'd said next. Isn't Vince always pissed? Why is this relevant?

Bill turned to Sara, a sign Olivia had come to identify as him wanting her to soften a blow. "It would appear that Hunter didn't clear your involvement with him," she began gently. "Word has only just got back to him, and he's a bit annoyed he wasn't approached beforehand." A million things flew through Olivia's mind. She took a deep breath and tried to arrange her questions in some sort of order. "But I was cleared. You guys told me that." She didn't want to think that she'd gone against a ruling from the office. "Yes," Bill replied. "We cleared you with Hunter. He runs this ship, so he's who we go to for the call. I imagine he ultimately answers to Vince, and maybe he didn't get that clearance from the next level up." Olivia's mouth went dry. I've got an uneasy feeling about this. "Just cut to the chase, please. If you're telling me this, it's got to mean something is going to result from it." Sara looked sideways at Bill, who kept looking straight at Olivia. "He doesn't want you to officiate again unless he signs off on it." Olivia slumped. In the back of her mind, she knew that was coming. And she knew what it meant. "So basically, he doesn't want me to officiate at all. Essentially. That's what you're telling me." Sara looked at her sympathetically. "We've got three weeks to work on him, before the next tapings. We will go about this as if you're going to have a match, until we hear otherwise." What's the point in that? Just getting everyone's hopes up. Mine, at least. Does anyone else actually care? Sensing her emotions building, Bill stepped in swiftly. "Hunter has assured us he's going to work on him. He wants you to keep working with us, and be ready for another match in the next round. His words were 'leave the old man to me.'" Olivia rolled her eyes. "Isn't that how we got here in the first place? He was supposed to take care of Vince," she spat out angrily, and immediately regretted the outburst. To her surprise, Bill laughed. "You're right, it is. But he gave me a personal assurance he'll work on it." She didn't know what to say. I guess we'll just have to trust him on that...

As she stood to leave the room, Sara moved with her. "I know this isn't ideal, Olivia, but just like you told us, you're good at what you do. You've won the rest of us over in the last month. I'm sure you can do the same with Vince." She placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and opened the door for her. Olivia thanked both her and Bill, and left the office. She wandered down the hall to the locker room, absent-mindedly. She didn't know what to do with herself. I could hit the gym and throw some weights around, or punch the crap out of the boxing bag. The next thing on her schedule was a group referee debrief at 2pm. It was 11. She stared across at her locker. F-king Vince McMahon and his f-king chauvinistic bullshit.

Rami was feeling on top of the world. He'd had a small review with Bill and Michael this morning, which turned into more of a preview of his increased involvement in the next tapings. He'd be back to three matches, hot off the suspension storyline, giving the crowd something to buy into. This was what he loved about the WWE style so far; the creative side adding to the crowd's investment. So far, he'd been on the right side of it all. He was now in the gym, stretching out his back. He ached more than he should for someone who didn't wrestle on Wednesday. A grin rose on his face recalling the reason why. Yesterday with Olivia had been amazing. He hadn't predicted they'd end up sleeping together, particularly in the middle of the day, but he couldn't say he was surprised. It had been building between the two of them for a week. Seeing her in her swimsuit had been the final straw for him, and he lost hold on the gentleman approach he'd been trying to execute. Olivia didn't seem to mind. The way she felt, the way she tasted, the way she moved, had mesmerized him, and he had the image of her sighing and shuddering beneath him burnt into his brain. They'd had sex once more, after he'd cooked her dinner, and as she'd lay in his arms, lamenting having to leave, Rami wished they'd had today off as well, in order to do it all over again. You know, just one more day off, to spend with her, then get back into it. He had the feeling he was teetering on the edge of insatiable with her. The dam had burst the moment she'd kissed him, and now they couldn't help themselves.

He got to his feet, preparing to move into the weights area. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a purple VW driving out of the parking lot. Where is she going? It's the middle of the day. He frowned to himself. Maybe something's happened? Maybe there's been an emergency. He looked around the gym, noticing Matt, the new coach, looking at him, and had to fight the urge to go to his locker and call her. They'd agreed to keep things quiet from the rest of the group, for now anyway, and he didn't want to raise suspicion. He set himself up in the leg press machine, convincing himself Olivia had just gone for an early lunch break.

Rami sat across from Olivia on her sofa, listening to her recount what Bill had told her earlier. That's bullshit. Hunter is the one who dropped the ball, and she's the one getting punished. The frustration in Olivia's voice was clear. "So they're gonna work on Vince, apparently, between now and the next taping, but until then I'm in some sort of limbo." Rami felt for her. Everything seemed to be going just fine; in the ring, between her and I; now this. He tapped his hand on the arm of the sofa, wondering what she needed from him. He wanted to tell her it was all going to be okay, but it was out of his hands. There's nothing I can do to make this better for her. "So what are you going to do?" he asked, wanting her response to guide his. He felt a pull in his chest as she shrugged, a far-away look in his eyes. "There's not much I can do, I guess. Show up next week and pretend it's all going to be okay, just like they want me to." She was silent for a moment, before adding "Maybe I should start writing a convincing cover letter to McMahon." She scoffed, and Rami smiled slightly at her quip, before an angry roar pierced the room. Olivia had thrown a cushion across the room, hitting the far wall and falling to the ground. Woah. This is obviously getting to her.

"Sorry," she said, turning to him. "I just needed to get that out of my system." She smiled softly, looking more like herself. "I just didn't come this far to only get this far, you know. You'd be the same." He nodded. I sure would. And probably will feel the same if I don't get called up in the next year. I'm not one of these footballer-turned-wannabe guys who knows nothing. I need to move on. So does she. At least I don't have glass ceilings to throw me off. "Right, I promise that's it, I'm done for the night," she said, readjusting herself on the sofa. "No more on it, from either of us. What do you fancy doing?" I know who I fancy doing... "How about we get Chinese and watch some movies?" he asked. He saw the light appear back in her eyes. "Sounds perfect," she replied. "Any suggestions?" Rami thought on his feet. "We'll go to the store and rent your favourite movie and my favourite movie," he said, watching her grin in agreement. "And what do you say on the way there we swing by my place and I pick up my toothbrush?" Olivia's eyes narrowed slightly, a devilish smirk growing on her face. Judging by that look, it's going to be an enjoyable night, he thought, already thinking about having Olivia's hands on him again. "I hope you know what you're getting yourself into," she said, her voice low, almost a purr. You, hopefully, he thought, thankful his crude statement didn't come out loud. People don't expect those comments from me... She leaned closer into him, and he braced himself for a kiss. When her lips were only millimetres from his, she whispered "My favourite movie is a musical..."

Oh, shit. Musicals were not his cup of tea. But she is. And he didn't know if Rocky would be hers. Compromise, right? he thought to himself. Isn't that what relationships are all about? He'd not been in a serious one for a long time; the indie lifestyle didn't lend itself to establishing relationships. He'd never been one for the tap and gap lifestyle of the industry; he respected women too much to see them treated like that. And he respected himself too much. He'd always seen himself as different from most of the other guys on the road. He actually wanted commitment. He wanted someone to share everything with. The problem being, he had always wanted wrestling more. He'd probably thrown away chances in the past because of his priorities, meaning he slept alone far more often than he'd admit to the guys. He knew this was why his resistance had been so easy to snap when it came to sleeping with Olivia. She was stirring feelings up in him that hadn't been touched for a while, and there had come a point where he couldn't take it any longer. She'd become too tempting. He hoped things would be different with her. I won't be in a different city than her every week, for starters. She understood the industry, and she was equally committed to her goal. They respected that about each other. It was novel to him; he'd always had to try and explain his fixation on wrestling, and why it was his priority. Kerrie was a lovely woman, but she didn't understand. Olivia did, and it certainly helped his attraction to her, knowing that she would appreciate his background, his talent, and desire. He knew wrestling was an incestuous industry, and often thought he'd like to have someone who was completely separate, to give him a chance to have breathing space if he needed it. But maybe that's where I've been going wrong.

Olivia stood, leaning over the top of him, and readjusted one of the red post-it notes on the wall chart above his head. Rami stood and wrapped his arms around her. "We're leaving it, remember," he said, kissing her to distract her. "It's not worth worrying about, not tonight. Let's just focus on us." He gave her a comforting look, hoping to convince her. "You're right, I'm sorry. It's just you and me, for the rest of the night. Promise," she said, pulling herself into him. Rami felt flutter of warmth in his chest, and stroked her hair a couple of times, before taking her hand and walking towards the door. As they left her apartment to pick up his things, grab dinner and rent the movies, he felt the most content he had in a while, despite being affected by Olivia's upset. All I want to do is take her mind off the crappy situation, and put that smile back on her face. At least I have the power to do that.I can't believe I'm saying this, but lying on the sofa, with her in my arms, watching a terrible musical, knowing we don't have to go anywhere tomorrow, sounds like perfection to me.