Disclaimer: I've hung up on a lot of telemarketers recently; maybe one was actually the WWE offering Randy to me. No? Okay, then…
Leigh sat in the passenger seat next to Randy as he drove down the deserted Sacramento streets. She decided to have the tow truck bring the useless car back to the rental company and she would straighten the mess out in the morning. Leigh was too exhausted to have to deal with the nauseating customer services reps at the moment. The day had been an eventful one, to say the least, and her emotions had run the gauntlet from one extreme to another. She wasn't sure, however, where she stood with the handsome young man presently driving her back to the hotel.
Leigh sighed and leaned her head against the cool window, savoring the comfortable silence that presently surrounded the two. She watched Randy out of the corner of her eye as he drove on, his body language indicating he was open for a discussion. His left arm was propped on the window's ledge and the breeze ruffled his short hair as they drove. Randy must have felt her gaze because he looked at her, however briefly, and smiled warmly. He turned his attention back to the road without saying anything, though, allowing Leigh to make the next move, if she chose to do so.
"I don't think I mentioned how great you guys were tonight," Leigh started.
"I don't know that I'm quite 'great' yet, but it's easy to get confused when I'm in there with Ric and Paul." She shook her head and smiled, not believing for one second that this man didn't believe, at least in part, his own hype. "It's almost surreal, you know? I appreciate what they're trying to do with me, but at the same time, I'm afraid that I'm reaching my pinnacle too young. The last two guys that Vince has done this for are long gone from wrestling."
"You don't really believe that, do you?" Leigh asked incredulously. She shifted in her seat so she could look Randy in the eye, or at least face his direction. She was looking forward to this discussion, as many people had brought up the same points before. Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson was, like Randy, a third generation wrestler. His grandfather, the Great High Chief Peter Maivia, and his dad, Rocky Johnson, had worked for Vince before him. Dwayne, like Randy, had come to WWE very young and had seemingly been groomed for the business. While it took some time for him to find his place among the fans, it wasn't long before The Rock had skyrocketed to fame. While his wrestling ability was far below that of Randy's, it wasn't to say he couldn't hold his own, and his promos were some of the best in the business. However, his movie star good looks guaranteed that he wasn't long in the wrestling world. While he took the opportunity to go to Hollywood and make his mark there, Dwayne never hesitated to come back whenever it was necessary, and it showed how much he truly loved wrestling and WWE. It was his home. Brock Lesnar, on the other hand, was quite the opposite. Vince salivated when he saw the young phenom wrestling in college, and quickly signed him to a developmental deal. Brock learned quickly and his size promised that Vince would be able to build the future of the company on him. He beat Rock's record as youngest champion when he was crowned at the age of 25. After a year on top, however, Vince had thought it best to take him down the ladder a step or two to allow for new blood to hold the title and not tire out the young rookie. Brock despised this demotion, as he called it, and literally gave his two weeks' notice. His last match was WrestleMania XX in New York, and the crowd ate him alive. He is currently chasing his dream to play for the NFL. "I'd like to think you're more comparable to Rock than Lesnar. You and Dwayne come from this business; you were raised within the walls of Titan Towers, which means that you'll do what's best for it. Brock was looking out for himself; when he was taken down from the top, he took his ball and went home. Sure he gave his whole sob story about wanting to play pro ball, but if that were his real motivation, he would've realized that burning his bridge with Vince wasn't in his own best interest."
"But do you understand where I'm coming from? Don't get me wrong, I'm psyched to be in this position, but… where do I go from here? By mid-August, I'll have accomplished what it's taken Chris Benoit 18 years to do," he glanced at her, hoping she understood where he was going with his question.
"We're giving you the title, Randy, because Vince sees something in you. Chris can, and will, make sure you honestly look like the champion once it's all said and done. You can do what you want with it from there. We can give you good opponents and angles that will make it seem more real to you. I know you don't have a lot of the experience under your belt that a lot of these guys do, but you deserve this. Benoit, Flair, Guerrero—they all had to start somewhere. Once SummerSlam is over, people will say you're a young version of them. You'll be a legend in your own time; you just need to take this as it's coming and make the best of it."
"For someone who's only been with the company for a month, you seem to know a lot more than half of the guys in the locker room."
"I was serious when I told Steph I was a fan—not only of the company, but the entire industry. I tried to immerse myself in it as much as I could when I was growing up; I got a lot of ridicule for the longest time. In college, a lot of guys thought I was really cool because I was the only girl who'd watch wrestling with them, but apparently it got old when they realized that I actually wanted to watch the matches. I'd sit there and analyze everything while they tried to get me drunk. I think that's when I officially became one of the guys."
"I don't think you're going to run into that problem anymore," Randy answered quietly. They continued driving in silence, the hum of the tires the only noise between them. Leigh wasn't sure what else to say at this point, and she was almost too exhausted to care. She leaned against the window again and sighed.
"Randy?"
"Hmm?" he answered, not taking his eyes off the road.
"You missed the exit; I'm staying at the Courtyard," she smiled, relieved to know she wasn't the only one having trouble keeping her mind focused.
"Figured they would have shelled out a little more for you guys. We've gotta stay somewhere cheap: it comes out of our own pockets. I thought Vince would at least keep the corporate babies in style," he said as he exited the freeway and made a u-turn.
"What's the point? We're at the arena from 8am until… damn, is it really 3?" Leigh checked her watch against the clock in the car, not quite believing it was so late. For the second time that evening, she removed her glasses to rub at her stinging eyes. Suddenly she felt a slight pressure wrapping around the back of her neck. Randy's nubile fingers began gently massaging the day's tension away from her fragile body, and she seemed to melt under his gentle touch. It was such a tender moment, but Leigh knew it would do no good to find out how much more so it could become. She turned her head to face Randy, who reluctantly moved his arm back to the center console.
"We're here," he said softly, watching her place her glasses back on her face. It was the same tone he used when he first offered to buy her a drink: as though he didn't want to interrupt her thoughts. They sat silently in the car for a moment, no words being spoken, but glances saying things that weren't ready to be said out loud. Leigh bit her lip and was the first to look away. She turned to unbuckle her seatbelt and opened the door and she heard Randy do the same. They stood outside the car, looking over the roof, when Leigh finally spoke; she needed to know.
"Randy, we're good… right?" she asked as she gathered her tote bag and luggage. She finally noticed the quizzical look on his face and figured she should elaborate. "I mean, I'm not the emotional crazy bitch and you're not a jackass? We've moved past that, right?"
Randy smiled, a real smile that went up to his eyes, and chuckled as he walked towards her. "Right, yeah, I think we'll be okay." He reached for the handle of her rolling suitcase, which Leigh greatfully passed over.
They walked silently into the lobby and over to the elevators. As Leigh pushed the up button, she began to wonder whether or not Randy was walking her up to her room. When he pushed the button for the third floor, Leigh's floor, she tried to figure out a way to let him know nothing would happen without embarrassing either one of them. Randy, however, seemed to read her thoughts.
"So, you're on the three, too?" Leigh chuckled in spite of herself. He had seemingly prevented her from needing her foot surgically removed from her mouth. "Remember, I said I didn't do any of this to get you into bed. I may be the resident jackass, but I am a man of my word." Leigh nodded silently, the smile still playing on her lips. "So, listen, I've got some meetings with the merchandise department during the time off this week, so I'll be in Stamford. You think you can fit me into your schedule for dinner? Strictly on the up and up, of course."
"Probably not. I'll be in the office most of the week; I don't know how I managed to incur the wrath of the diva search, but I've got to figure out a way to fit it onto the card for SummerSlam. I have to sign my mortgage papers on Wednesday, and the rest of the time I'm moving into my new place."
"Tell you what, I'll give you a call after I meet with Amanda up there, and if you're free, I'll take you to lunch. Is that fair? Will Marc get pissed?" Randy compromised.
"Please... just don't, okay? I'm not in the mood to deal with petulant little boys." Leigh was leading the way down the hall towards the end where her room was located and rummaged in the tote bag she was carrying for her key.
"What's going on with you two, anyway?"
"With Marc? Nothing. Apparently Steph mentioned to him that I was single and then we started working on a bunch of promos together. He's asked me out a few times and I'm running out of excuses not to go. After tonight, though, I think he finally got the message that I'm not interested." She paused, finally, and looked at him. Quietly she said, "Anyway, thanks for your help tonight: the chauffer, counselor, everything." She took her luggage from Randy and their hands brushed one another however briefly. The man towered over Leigh as he blatantly covered her hand with his own; his dark blue eyes steeled themselves on her large hazel ones and he slowly moved towards her, inching closer until there was no room between the two. She was suddenly aware that his arm rested comfortably on her hip and was pulling her to him. Randy bent his head down to Leigh—agonizingly slowly—and she held her breath, wondering what would come next; not knowing whether she should put a stop to it or not; not knowing whether she wanted to put a stop to it or not. Reading her mind yet again, Randy smiled shyly and moved his head to the young woman's cheek and kissed it; his breath was warm against her skin and shivers ran up and down her spine. He stood back up to his full 6'4" frame and stepped backwards.
"Good night, Leigh; I'll see you tomorrow."
A/N: Sorry this was so short, guys, but work's been busy. Please keep your fingers crossed for me, as I've submitted a resume to work for a certain company that I've been obsessed with for the past twenty years. Hope everyone's doing well, and I promise to not go so long between updates again.