Peeps! Apologies as usual for the delay. Life and what not. I just got back from a wonderful trip and finished up my update as quickly as I could. It's a double. Hope you enjoy! as always, Read, Enjoy, and Review!

Chapter 49…

Jordan did her best to juggle a tray full of Venti Starbucks drinks, her phone, and Celia's massive purse as they walked up the drive to the Hearst family's palatial home. Celia was on a cleanse and her purse was weighed down with 6 or 7 bottles of her gross lemon and cayenne drink. Jordan was so concerned with getting everything else that she accidentally left her green tea in the car but it wasn't worth trekking back down to get it. Dorothy, the Hearst's longtime housekeeper met them at the door and ushered them inside taking the drinks and both of their coats. She somehow made holding it all look incredibly easy.

"Dorothy, you make me feel so inadequate," Jordan shook her head.

"Don't be silly Jordan. We just have different strengths," the older woman smiled warmly. "Would you like me to warm these up for you?"

"No, they should still be warm," Jordan assured her. "Thank you for offering."

Though she was only in her early 40's, Dorothy was a twenty year veteran of the Hearst household and one of the most professional and efficient people Jordan could ever remember meeting.

"Of course," Dorothy smiled. "Everyone is upstairs in Mrs. Hearst's dressing room. They're waiting for you."

As they headed toward the stairs, Celia's bag slipped and nearly took Jordan's arm off, "Celia. Are you kidding me with this thing? What else do you have in here?"

"I don't even know anymore," the blonde sighed. "There may actually be ankle weights in there."

She'd been obsessing over wanting to lose 5 more pounds before this fitting. She'd even forced Jordan to download some calorie counter app so that they could track their food intake together. Jordan tried to take it seriously for her friend's sake but there were a few times where she may have forgotten to add in some particularly fattening foods she had on the road. It was Kofi's fault. He liked to go for late night tacos.

"You know you look fantastic, right?" Jordan assured her friend. "You can calm down now. Maybe even eat a sandwich."

"A sandwich?" Celia looked over her shoulder at her. "I'm not eating bread until after the wedding. You shouldn't either. You know it goes straight to your hips."

"I like my hips thank you very much," Jordan laughed. "And I'm going to let that remark go because you're obviously stressed and hungry."

"You are a kind and understanding person," Celia smiled. "I promise you will get a fantastic gift for putting up with me."

"I would expect nothing less," Jordan laughed. When they reached Margot's dressing room, Jordan got the same giddy feeling she'd always gotten as a child when reaching its ornate wooden doors. Margot often let Jordan and Celia watch her get ready for formal events there. She would let them play around in her jewelry and shoes while she decided which gown to wear and got her hair and makeup done.

Celia opened the door and they were greeted with Margot's smiling face.

"Jesus, Mother, were you just standing there waiting for someone to open the door?" Celia laughed.

Margot laughed, "No dear. I just have a sense for when my trouble child is close."

That was obviously a joke. Celia was a handful but she certainly wasn't the Hearst problem child. Not while Maeve still walked the Earth. Margot gave her daughter a tight hug and then turned her smile to Jordan, "She made you carry the drinks?"

"She didn't make me," Jordan insisted. "I was just worried that her weak arms wouldn't be able to handle it."

"Is she still cleansing?" Margot sighed, looking to her daughter. "Please tell her she's being silly."

"I've tried," Jordan shrugged. "I don't know what else to do."

"Accept it and move on," Celia instructed.

Margot laughed, shaking her head as she led them further into the room.

Jordan waved when she saw Maeve sitting with three women Jordan didn't recognize. She guessed the two blondes were Benjamin's mother and sister and the younger brunette was there to fit their dresses. Maeve got up, coming over and greeting her with a hug.

"How's it going?" Jordan asked her quietly.

"Slightly less awkward than I expected," Maeve laughed. "They're nice but a little bland."

"Good to know," Jordan nodded.

Ever the polite hostess, Margot quickly came over to make the introductions. Benjamin's mother's name was Elyse, his sister, Laura. Jordan shook both of their hands, expressing her pleasure at meeting them.

"Jordan is a very successful sports journalist in print and television. She just recently got her own show."

Jordan tried not to cringe at Margot hyping her credentials. She was proud of herself of course but it just felt like an odd time to be discussing her work.

"She's a part of the family," Margot smiled proudly.

"Yeah, it's like we took in a stray one night and then fell in love with it," Maeve smirked, sipping from a glass of rosé.

Jordan's eyebrow quirked at the remark but thought it best not to comment.

"Maeve!" Margot stared at her older daughter.

"Mother, it was a joke," Maeve shrugged. "Jordan knows I love her. Right Jo?"

"Of course," Jordan nodded. "I can take a joke."

Once they were all settled, the fitting started. Celia had ordered samples of an array of dresses from different designers. The goal was to try them on in different combinations until Celia decided which ones she liked, then take their measurements to get them ordered as quickly as possible. With Jordan being on the road, she wasn't going to be able to get back and forth for multiple fittings so they had to get as much as they could done in one day. Fortunately, they were able to get through it with very few issues. Celia was very decisive, cutting a few options as soon as she saw them on. They narrowed it down to 3 different options and took tons of pictures to help Celia make the final decision. All Jordan had to do was make sure she didn't gain any weight before New Years' Eve so Celia wouldn't murder her.

"See, little sister?" Maeve smiled. "I told you everything would be fine. Even this one was just fine."

Jordan felt Maeve smack her on the ass and she narrowed her eyes. That was maybe the third or fourth shot Maeve had taken at her over the course of the fitting and it was beginning to get to her.

Celia seemed to notice it to. Her blue eyes were narrowed to slits and trained on her sister but Maeve ignored it. She was too busy pouring herself another glass of rosé.

Celia grabbed Jordan's hand unexpectedly, pulling her toward the door. Jordan didn't fight it, following down the hallway to Celia's old room. Once they were safely behind the closed door, Celia crossed her arms over her chest, "What the hell is going on?"

"Cel, it's nothing, really," Jordan shook her head.

"Jordan, do not lie to me. You know better than anyone that I could go full blown bridezilla at any second. Maeve is being even more of a bitch than usual today," the blonde pointed. "What. Happened?"

"I may have..sort of..told Maeve that she shouldn't get too serious about John," Jordan looked down at her nails.

Celia stared at her.

"I only told the truth," Jordan shrugged. "John is in the middle of a messy divorce. He's not as available as I think she wants him to be."

"You told my sister she can't have a man?" Celia rolled her eyes. "Jordan, you know how she is."

"I advised her to be cautious," Jordan corrected. "I didn't say she can't have him."

"But that's what Maeve heard," Celia said, tapping her head. "Because she is a crazy person."

Jordan sighed, "I know. I know. I realized when I started to say it that it was a mistake but it was too late. I'll fix it."

"We will fix it together," Celia tilted her head back, looking up at the ceiling. "No one person should deal with that. Cancel your dinner plans. We're gonna have to do some damage control."


"Punk says he's gonna be here soon."

Joe looked up when Colby walked into the locker room looking at his phone.

"I hope he brings his girl," Joe smirked, pulling a t-shirt out of his gym bag.

Colby stiffened, shooting him a dirty look. Joe laughed so hard his shoulders shook. He couldn't help it. He got a big kick out of irking the other man. It was way too easy. He got really tense whenever Joe made comments about Jordan which Joe thought was incredibly silly. There was no crime in appreciating an attractive woman.

"You're an idiot," Colby rolled his eyes.

"Come on, man, have you seen those pictures of her in Complex?" Joe laughed. "Did you see that ass?"

"No," Colby answered, albeit unconvincingly.

"Well I have seen it," Joe smirked. "Many times. Usually right before I go to bed. In my dreams once…"

"How many times do I have to tell you to cut that shit out?"

"I don't know why it bothers you so much," Joe laughed. "She's hot. I'm not allowed to think she's hot?"

"Oh you're definitely allowed to think she's hot. But I hate to break it to you, she had a prior engagement."

Joe froze when he heard the voice behind him. He would know it anywhere. Anyone in the business would.

He turned, reluctantly, stopping when he saw a stone faced Phil Brooks. His eyes were narrowed, his lips a tense, thin line. He may have been smaller than Joe but the way he carried himself was still intimidating. Embarrassment wasn't something Joe often encountered but he definitely felt it in that moment. He rubbed his hand over his face, unsure of what to say. He'd only been in the same room as Phil a few times and they'd never had much of a conversation. He'd heard a lot of conflicting stories about the champion as a person. Some people made him sound like the coolest guy on the face of the Earth and others made him sound like the world's biggest asshole. Joe could guess which side he was going to see after what he just walked in and heard. Phil was just staring at him and Joe knew he needed to say something, anything, to try and turn this around. He looked over to Colby, finding the other man smiling from ear to ear, obviously tickled pink at his predicament.

"I am sorry," Joe said. "That probably sounded worse than it really was."

"So it wasn't you talking about how you dream about my girlfriend's ass?" Phil's eyebrow lifted slowly.

Joe winced. It was stupid but he didn't have another response.

Phil eyed him for another moment before the corner of his mouth lifted, slow spreading into a smile, then a full on laugh.

Joe eyed him, confused. Either he was fucking with him or the man was even crazier than he looked.

"Calm down. You think I've never walked into a conversation about my girlfriend before?"

Joe laughed, more out of relief than actual amusement. He did not need the WWE champion pissed at him right when he was getting his chance at the main roster.

"I keep telling him to shut up," Colby shrugged.

"How often do you have to tell him?" Phil smirked. "Maybe I should be pissed."

"Not that often," Joe shot Colby a look that properly conveyed his need to shut the fuck up.

Phil chuckled, patting him on the shoulder, "Good to hear. Either of you know where I can find Hero? I wanna slap him around a little."

"Probably working out in the ring," Joe answered. He hoped Phil wouldn't hold it against him that he'd been chosen over Chris as the third member of what they were told would be called The Shield. From what he'd heard, Phil lobbied pretty hard for his good friend but the powers that be wanted Joe instead.

"Yeah that'd be my guess," Colby agreed.

"Sounds good. I'll see you."

When Phil left the room, Joe walked over to Colby, giving him a stiff punch in the arm.

"Fuck off," Colby jumped, putting a hand over the spot where Joe hit him. "What the hell was that for?"

"You could've told me he came in."

"I could have," Colby shrugged. "But maybe now you can see why I told you to shut up about Jordan. You looked like you were about to shit your pants."

"Shut up, No I didn't," Joe glared. "But I guess I can sort of see your point."


"She would pick this place," Jordan rolled her eyes as she and Celia weaved through the always crowded Hubbard Inn. "What are we, 19?"

Celia stopped and turned to face her, "Jordan, you are here to eat crow. We do not get to complain about her tacky choice in restaurants. We smile, we eat, we drink, and you tell her you're sorry for butting in to her stupid mess of a life. Right?"

Jordan absolutely hated having her tail between her legs. She had a lifelong difficulty apologizing, especially if she didn't think she did anything wrong. This time, she had no choice. She would do just about anything for Celia, including making this attempt to fix things with Maeve. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath then pasted on her fakest smile, "You like having this power over me, don't you?"

"A little bit, yeah," Celia held up her fingers in a pinch. She gave Jordan an earnest smile, "Look, I know you're doing this for me and I appreciate it. It'll be over before you know it."

"I really hope so."

A guy who didn't even look old enough to drink tried to put his arm around Celia but Jordan caught it, guiding his arm back to his side and patting him on the shoulder. As they reached the table, Maeve looked up from her phone, flashing them a Cheshire grin. The small screen in front of her lit up her face from underneath and Jordan thought for a moment that she looked like a Disney villain. The thought made Jordan giggle to herself and she relaxed a bit, smiling back and giving her old friend a wave. Maeve stood, coming around the table to give them both a hug.

"It's about time," Maeve's grin was broad, her eyes bright. "You have no idea how many frat boys I've had to fend off."

Jordan wanted to remind her of the venue she'd chosen but she bit her tongue, taking off her coat and hanging it on the back of her chair. A waiter came over and took their drink orders and Jordan rubbed her cold hands together as the Hearst sisters made small talk about parking.

Maeve was the one to eventually change the subject, "So Celia was really pushy about having dinner tonight. I get the feeling something's up. Is there a problem with the bachelorette party? Jordan, you know if you need help planning-"

"Jordan doesn't need any help planning," Celia interrupted. "We just wanted to talk."

"I wanted to talk," Jordan corrected. She wanted to get this over with sooner rather than later. Taking another deep breath, she put her hands on the table in front of her, "I wanted to clarify what I was saying about John."

"Oh?" Maeve raised one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows. Jordan had always envied her eyebrows. One of Jordan's had permanent thin spot that drove her absolutely crazy. When she didn't fill it in, it looked like she was trying to bring the 90's back.

"I was just trying to look out for you but…I think it may have come out wrong," Jordan said. "I should have just stayed out of it. Whatever happens between you and John is your business. Not mine. I'm sorry. I just don't want you to get hurt. That's all."


Maeve considered Jordan's words. She wasn't entirely sure if they were sincere. Jordan had a pretty decent poker face. She wouldn't be a good interviewer if she didn't. Maeve knew that Jordan genuinely cared about her feelings, they were family. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that Jordan was apologizing under duress. She was a person who said what she meant and rarely took anything back. She had this look on her face like she was swallowing a bite that was too large.

She smiled, reaching out and patting her younger friend on the hand, "I'm not upset. I admit, I was a little irritated at first but I'm sure you were trying to protect me in your own way. We're all good."

Jordan looked relieved and Celia downed half of the drink that had just been placed in front of her.

"You two are such worriers," Maeve laughed, rolling her eyes. She held her hand out, "Jo, give me your phone. I want to look at the dress pictures."

Jordan unlocked her phone and handed it over as their waiter came over, taking food orders.

"This is ridiculous," Maeve shook her head as she flipped through the pictures. "You look amazing in all of them. How are we supposed to choose from these?"

"That is not true," Jordan shook her head. "That blue one looks horrendous on me. Please don't make me wear that one Cel."

"Don't make either of us wear that one," Maeve requested. Some dresses, no matter how expensive or expertly crafted, were absolutely hideous.

"I honestly had them pull that one as a joke," Celia smirked. "I knew it would look terrible on everyone."

"Dick," Jordan glared.

Maeve flipped to another picture as Jordan slapped Celia on the arm for making them put on that monstrosity. Jordan was making a silly face in the picture but her expression was covered as a text message came through.

From John.

Found this and thought of you

The picture attached was of a police officer's badge with the name Danny Fisher. She frowned, looking up at Jordan and then back down at the phone. She hadn't heard from John once since last saw him Tuesday morning. She texted him to say that she landed safely in Chicago and several times after that with no response.

She swiped away the message and put the phone down, sliding it back toward Jordan, "I don't envy you little sister. This is going to be a hard choice to make."

"It won't take me long," Celia shrugged. "I've got it narrowed down."

Jordan picked up her phone. After looking at it for a moment, she burst into laughter so loud the guy at the table behind them turned to stare at her.

"You okay there?" Celia smirked.

"What's so funny?" Maeve questioned.

"Oh, uh, nothing," Jordan shook her head quickly. "It's nothing."

Maeve narrowed her eyes, "Seems awfully funny to be nothing."


Arden breathed deeply, hoping it would somehow ease the throbbing in her head. Dr. Amann had assured her that she didn't have a concussion but nevertheless she was still feeling the effects of the paintball incident days later. She had a colossal headache and she was still sensitive to light and loud noise. She was lying on her couch in the dark with the TV on but the volume nearly inaudible. Jordan was getting her hooked on The Real Housewives of Atlanta and, fortunately, that show could be watched without volume. The drama could be figured out on facial expressions alone.

"Do you want more tea sweetheart?"

She squinted as her mother came into the room. She had been surprisingly helpful since Arden got home. Arden felt a cool cloth drape across her forehead and she sighed, "No thank you."

"I certainly hope this doesn't permanently damage your face," Odette said.

"I'm more worried about my brain than my face mother," Arden scoffed.

"Well darling you work in media; you should always be concerned about your face," Odette insisted.

Arden would have rolled her eyes if it didn't hurt. She heard her phone chime and she was grateful for the distraction from this particular line of conversation.

"Can you give me that please?" she asked her mother.

Odette handed over the phone and then went into the kitchen, undoubtedly to retrieve herself a glass of wine.

How's my favorite girl?

She smiled when she read the text, typing back, Terrible. Head hurts. Need .

You're texting like a caveman. You get bumped on the head again? And do you mean those choco-taco things or chocolate and tacos?

Chocolate AND tacos. Obviously. How did your media day go?

It was okay. I missed you

Arden actually felt a little flutter in her stomach at that. She missed him too. If she had a choice of Nick or her mother waiting on her, she definitely would have chosen him first.

What are you doing right now?

She looked over at her kitchen. She was starving and the refrigerator was so close but so very far away. She rubbed her eyes; the bright light from her phone was bothering her but she didn't want to stop talking to him.

Trying to figure out how to get food without moving.

She heard an odd, faraway noise but she ignored it. It was probably just Odette rifling through her things as usual. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. This headache had to go.

The next thing she knew, she was being stirred awake by the feeling of a warm hand on her forehead.

She groaned, trying to push it away, "Mother, unless you have food, leave me alone."
The responding chuckle she heard was deep, throaty, distinctly male.

She cautiously opened one eye, recognizing Nick's handsome face in her hazy vision. She allowed the other eye to open, frowning in confusion. The room was still dark, the only light coming from The Real Housewives. His face was blurry and she was busy trying to figure out if she was dreaming when he spoke.

"I didn't bring you chocolate but I did stop for tacos."

"What are you doing here?" she stared up at him, confused but almost deliriously happy at the sight of him. She hugged him tightly, pulling him slightly off balance. He had to brace one arm on the back of the couch and the other on the coffee table.

"Careful gorgeous," he smirked. "I came as soon as I could. I didn't want you to be alone."

"Well that's very sweet dear but she does have her mother."

Arden glared over his shoulder at Odette.

"I took the first flight I could," he explained. He whispered, "Your mom doesn't seem like she'd be the best nurse. I had a feeling you needed me."

"You are as perceptive as you are wonderful," she smiled. "Thank you."

"You don't need to thank me," he said. "Just tell me what you need. I'm here for you."

"I need you," she grinned. Her eyes darted down to the bag on her coffee table, "And also those tacos."


John plopped down on the couch, taking a long drink from his beer. It had been a long day and his arm was feeling tight and sore. He took comfort in the fact that he would get to sleep in the next day. His flight wasn't until 11. He considered turning on the TV but decided against it. He was actually enjoying the quiet. There wasn't enough in his life.

His phone chimed and he looked down and saw that it was a message from Jordan. If there was anyone he would abandon this rare quiet for, it was her. He opened the message, expecting a response to the photo he sent her earlier. He thought of her right away when he stumbled upon that prop. When he opened the message, a chuckle escaped him. It was a badly drawn stick figure with X's for eyes, drawn on what looked like a cocktail napkin. She followed up with a text, This is me today

He laughed, pressing the button to call her. She picked up quickly. He could hear keys in the background when she said hello.

"You're a great artist, you know that?" he asked.

"You think that's good, you should see some of my early work," she said. "Finger paints were my best medium."

"Don't tempt me, I bet your dad still has some," he half-joked.

"Ugh, you're probably right," she laughed. "Damn hoarder."

"How'd the dress thing go?" John asked, putting his feet up on the ottoman in front of him.

"It was…awkward," she sounded pained. "That's probably the best way to describe it."

"Why? What happened?"

"Maeve didn't say anything to you?" she sounded surprised.

He hadn't spoken to Maeve since she left for the airport. She'd sent texts, a couple pictures, and he was tempted briefly but every time he just put his phone down. His defiance seemed to be fading away and he kept thinking back to Jordan's warnings.

"I haven't talked to her in a couple days," he answered simply.

"Well," she sighed deeply. "I guess you have to find out eventually. I uh..I tried to have a talk with Maeve on Monday. About you. Apparently she did not take it very well."

"What did you say?"

He could picture her expression. She was probably wrinkling her face, twisting her mouth to the left in that way she did when she didn't want to answer a question. He waited, knowing she would cave quickly. She wouldn't have brought it up if she wasn't going to tell him the whole thing. After a few seconds, she detailed her conversation with Maeve and the comments she made during the fitting.

"I'm surprised you said anything," he admitted. She seemed so adamant on Monday when they spoke about it.

"Yeah, it was probably not my smartest decision," she sighed.

"You do remember telling me that it was my problem?"

"Yes, John, I remember," she answered. "I just..I don't know. I couldn't help it. I felt like I needed to say something. This thing between the two of you has the potential to end badly. I don't want that to happen. I know it's overstepping and I'm sure you think I'm worrying over nothing but-"

"Who are you protecting here?" John asked curiously. "Me or Maeve?"

"You," she answered quickly. She paused for a moment and then stammered a bit as she continued, "Both of you. Of course."

He didn't say anything but he couldn't stop the smile that touched his lips.

"Whatever, if anything I'm protecting myself and my sanity," Jordan said. "You can both kick rocks."

He knew her well enough to know that her first answer was the real one. She tried to backtrack and make it sound less caring but she was trying to protect him. She'd known Maeve her whole life but she was still looking out for him. It meant a lot to know she cared that much but he didn't tell her that. He knew she'd brush it off.

"Maybe I need to just break things off with her," he spoke the words as soon as the thought popped into his head.

"Oh now you wanna listen to me?" she laughed. "I should kick your ass."

"Look, if Maeve is turning on you just because you tried to help, it's only gonna get worse," he said. "I don't want you to have to deal with that."

"You don't have to change your mind just because I told you she's getting on my nerves."

"I know but I also don't want to be with a person who reacts like that to a friend trying to help."

"You do whatever you want John," she said. "But if you do break things off just..be as gentle as possible. If she does something to mess up the wedding, Cel will have both our heads."

"I'll be careful. I promised," John assured her. "And I'll send a nice gift too."


Stephen tapped his thumb against his phone, debating whether or not to call. He was worried about Arden. He still felt terrible for hurting her, accident or not. He just wanted to check in, make sure she was on the mend. The problem was, he knew that Nick wouldn't be happy. He couldn't exactly blame the other man. If the roles were reversed, he would be just as protective.

He decided not to spend too much time worrying about Nick's feelings. Arden was his friend and if Nick didn't like it, that was his problem.

"Hello?"

Stephen frowned when he heard Nick's voice. He'd heard enough annoying Ziggler promos to know it.

"Nick," he said. "Is Arden alright? I was hoping to talk to her."

"Did you know that you're in her phone as Big Red?" Nick sounded amused.

"I did," Stephen chuckled. She'd called him that one night at a bar when she was drunk on Sea Breezes and she wouldn't stop mussing his hair. She changed his name in her phone in the hotel elevator and declared that she would never change it back.

"She's alright," Nick answered his earlier question. "She's sleeping right now and she really needs the rest. She's still not feeling well."

"I'm sorry to hear it," Stephen sighed.

There was an awkward silence for a few seconds and then Nick cleared his throat, "Listen…I'm sorry about the way I acted Monday night. I understand that you and Stu think of Arden as just one of the boys but she's not. You both need to be a little more careful around her. I should have just said that instead of acting like such a dick."

Stephen didn't need Nick to lecture him on being more careful but the man's girlfriend was hurt and he was allowed to be upset. Stephen couldn't exactly argue with him.

"I understand," he said. "And you know that I would never hurt Arden on purpose. It was an accident. Nothing like that will ever happen again."

"I know," Nick agreed. "And I'll let Arden know you called. I'm sure she'll call you back first thing tomorrow."

"Thanks man," Stephen said, feeling incredibly awkward. "Take care of her, will ya?"

"Of course," Nick said. "Always."


Phil flipped through the channels, trying to find something boring enough that it would help him fall asleep. He was tired but his knee was killing him and the bed in his hotel room was stiff as a board so he couldn't get comfortable. The first thing he found that he'd consider stopping for was the Whoopi Goldberg movie 'Eddie'. He'd seen it more times than any one person should. It was one of the many movies Jordan and Kofi liked to quote to each other. They had completely monopolized movie selection on the bus. It was getting out of hand.

If Jordan was there he could have gotten some sleep. She had a way of making him feel so incredibly relaxed, just by being next to him. The softness and warmth of her skin against his and the scent of her hair when she rested her head on his chest could put him right out, like she somehow transferred her calm through touch. He missed her but he figured she was probably sleeping. It was late and he knew she'd had a packed day. Still, he wanted to talk to her. It wouldn't hurt to send her a text. Once Jordan was asleep, she was out like a light so there was very little risk of waking her. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand, typing out a line from the movie.

Ivan take charge

She responded quickly, Ivan make basket!

He chuckled, dialing her through FaceTime.

She answered quickly looking tired and amused and absolutely beautiful, he curls flowing wild around her head.

"How did you know I was watching Eddie? Do you have cameras on me?" she raised an eyebrow at him.

"I would get a lot less done in a day if I had cameras on you," he laughed.

"I'm really not that interesting," she laughed. When she shifted, he caught a glimpse of the wall behind her and recognized his headboard. "Are you at my place?"

"Yeah, I was gonna go home but I'm super tired and I had a late dinner with Cel and Maeve and your place was closer."

"You don't have to explain it," he smirked. "You have keys for a reason. You can go there whenever you want."

"Good because I'm not leaving," she laughed, her bright smile lighting up the small screen. "How was your match?"

"It was great. I could work with these guys all day," he answered. "Much better than having to drag Ryback around the fucking ring."

"He's trying his best babe," she said unconvincingly.

He raised an eyebrow in a skeptical look and she shrugged, "Well at least there's a light at the end of that tunnel. You're almost done."

"I know. I can't wait," he chuckled. "So, I meant to text you earlier. You're pretty popular around these parts."

"I am?" she looked suspicious. "I've been there like three times, how popular could I be?"

"I walked in on Reigns talking about your ass," he explained.

"Oh God," she rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"It wasn't a big deal," Phil shrugged. "He turned a little green when he saw me. I'm not worried about it."

She shook her head, cheeks flushed, "You were nice at least, right?"

"Of course I was. I'm always nice," he smirked. "How'd your dress thing go? Did you find the one?"

"You don't have to pretend to be interested in a dress fitting," she teased.

"How dare you? I absolutely care," he laughed. "Celia talked my ear off about her grand vision for your dress. I can't wait to see it."

"We've got it narrowed down to a few," she smiled. "Once that was over, we had to sit down with Margot and go over all of these details and sort through the guests she wants invited, look at invitation samples. Wedding planning is hell. I'm stressed out and I'm not even the bride. I need to hurry up and get Arden married off so I never have to do this again."

"Never again?" he smirked. "You aren't gonna get married?"

"I wasn't planning on it," she answered quickly. She gave him an amused look, "Why? You proposing?"

He chuckled at the thought. He loved her but he wasn't thinking marriage yet. In the future though, he wanted the whole deal; marriage, kids, the works.

"The way Celia tells it, you two grew up planning your weddings," he said, brushing off her joke.

"My wedding planning days ended sometime around second grade," Jordan laughed. "All I can remember was that there was a nautical theme. Lots of white and navy blue."

"Sounds very classy," he teased.

She shifted so that she was lying on her stomach and rested her chin on her hand, "I have seen enough shitty marriages to know that I don't want to be in one."

He didn't know why but he was surprised by her stance. She was so excited about Celia getting married, he just kind of assumed she wanted a wedding of her own someday. He wondered if one of the marriages she was talking about was her parents. She never talked about her mother. No one in her family really did. He knew things hadn't gone well but he didn't know exactly how bad it was. He would never push her to tell him though. She would talk when she was ready and if she never was, that would be okay too.

"I've seen quite a few myself," he shrugged. "But, I don't know, every relationship is different. The fact that it didn't work out for some people, doesn't mean it wouldn't work out for you."

"You probably don't hear these words often but you are much more optimistic than me," she gave him a wry smile. "At least on this particular subject."

"Well shit, now I'm gonna have to take back that ring," he joked.

She shook her head, always quick, "You can sell it. We'll take the money and go on vacation."