"What's on the agenda tonight, René?"
René turned his head to look at Sylvan. He had been enjoying listening to the cartoons while resting his eyes. It was typical of Sylvan to do that sort of thing to him.
"Cartoons. Ice cream. Bed. Why?"
That had been on his agenda for a while. Sitting in bed, eating ice cream while watching cartoons all night. Sometimes, even René Dupree needed to veg out.
"Some of the guys are going to the hotel's club tonight. I told them we'd go along at some stage."
"What's with this 'we' business?"
René sat up on the bed and scratched his head, waiting for Sylvan to reply.
"You need a change of scene tonight. You don't have to stay for long. A couple of drinks if you want."
The more René thought about it, the more he decided Sylvan was right. He did need a change of scene. Time out at a club would do the trick.
"What time?"
"Just whenever you're ready."
René wasn't ready to go until two hours later. Checking his eye again, he picked up his wallet, slipped it into his pocket and followed Sylvan to the club.
He thought his mind was playing tricks on him when he saw the other WWE superstars laugh at him but he reasoned it was because of his eye.
"It's going to be a good one, René," Sylvan remarked, handing him a glass of Coke. "But not as good as you ending up with a certain young lady's underwear."
René cocked his head in agreement and saw some more superstars laugh at him. This time, he knew it wasn't because of his eye. They had overheard Sylvan's last comment.
"A Frenchman ending up with American lingerie? Well, stranger things have happened."
"It was French lingerie. Americans make underwear. We French make lingerie. Sensual lingerie. Lingerie that makes you wonder about the person who owns it, wears it … You know."
René had to straighten that out. He didn't want them getting the wrong end of the stick at all.
"How did you manage to end up with it anyway?"
"It seems the American staff here don't know the difference between Room 286 and Room 268. That's how I ended up with it."
"Did you get your gear back?"
"Everything. She got her lingerie back as well."
No one missed the smirk on René's face. It oozed of evilness. Pure evilness.
"Whatever, René. Whatever."
Sylvan knew the meaning behind René's smirk and took him into a dark corner to speak to him in private.
"Has she got it all back?"
"All of it apart from the one I 'borrowed'. That's my insurance policy, remember? I want to meet her so I can thank her for looking after my wrestling attire in person."
"So, did you reply to her note?"
"Yes. I was blatantly honest and told her how much I appreciated her taking such good care of my attire and enclosed two ringside tickets for Raw as well."
The cocky look was back on Sylvan's face.
"I'm sure Leila will appreciate them. And Sophie as well."
The colour drained from René's face. How had Sylvan found out her name? And that of her sister?
"I did tell you that I would find out who she is. Whether she was good enough for you. If you want my humble opinion about you and Leila, you will have it regardless. She's good enough for you. Hell, she can even teach us the French national anthem!"
René knew it would take some time for the look of dismay to disappear from his face. He also knew he was seriously tempted to fling the contents of his glass in Sylvan's face and had to severely restrain himself from doing so.
"How did you come across them?"
"As it happened, Leila fell over in front of me at the pool. Her shoes, you see. She's not used to them."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"Believe it if you want. I'm not saying you have to or anything."
"Good, because I don't think I want to believe you at the moment."
Sylvan shrugged and glanced at the far end of the club, where a stage was being set up for the club's karaoke contest later that night. The contest seemed to be quite popular with the WWE stars as several of them had entered. Including René and Sylvan, although they found out that someone had entered them with the probable intention of embarrassing them.
"Besides, they're really nice. Very friendly and if you play your cards right, we could get French national anthem lessons."
"You live in hope, don't you?"
"No, I live in the know, thank you very much."
René screwed up his face, wincing as his eye hurt again. It was going to be a good one, that much he did know. What he didn't know was how he was going to retaliate and lower himself to American standards in doing so.
"I see you two are in the karaoke contest. Good luck. You'll need it, especially if you're going to treat us to the French national anthem."
"I'm sure we can think of something. Won't we, René?"
"If you say so, Sylvan."
"I do say so."
René stroked his eye and inwardly cringed when he felt how swollen it was since he last looked at it in the mirror. If it got any more swollen, he'd remain in his hotel room, refusing to go anywhere.
"René, take this piece of advice. Build a bridge and get over it. They'll get their own back someday. When they least expect it. Besides, go out and mingle. I think you might be pleasantly surprised. Look over there."
René looked in the direction that Sylvan was pointing in but couldn't see who or what he was supposed to be looking at.
"Who or what am I supposed to be looking at? I can't see anything."
To René's chagrin, Sylvan chuckled, his dimples making their presence felt, again making him seriously consider slapping him.
"How could I forget? You've only got one eye at the moment. Silly me. In that case, allow me to be your eyes for a few seconds …"
"Excuse me?"

A/N: The next chapter won't be up until Tuesday (Monday for most of you) at the earliest because I am going away for the weekend to attend a wedding, consequently missing Raw and La Résistance also.