Chapter Ten: Dave's P.O.V.

I finished working out about a half an hour after I hung up with Jessica. I went back to the room to find Randy just getting out of bed.

"Finally decide to get your ass out of bed?" I asked, cheerfully.

"Well, sorry. I don't get up at the crack of dawn like you do," he yawned. "Why are you in such a good mood? Did you lift an extra fifteen pounds today or something?"

"Actually, twenty-five but that's not it. Jessica agreed to go to lunch with me today."

"But I thought we all agreed that we were gonna go work in the ring this afternoon."

"I'll talk to H and Ric about it later. Right now, I'm gonna take a shower."

At around 12:30 Randy and I walked down to Paul and Stephanie's room. Randy knocked on the door and we waited for someone to answer. Stephanie opened the door a minute later.

"Hey, guys," she greeted, brightly.

"Hi, Steph. Is Paul almost ready?" Randy asked.

"He should be, just a second," she said and walked into the other room.

A few seconds later, Paul showed up at the door. "Sorry, I'm running late guys. That wife of mine has been driving me insane all morning," he said, shutting the door behind him. "Dave, where's your stuff at?" he asked, noticing my missing duffel.

"I'm going out to lunch with Jessica."

"Who?"

"The writer."

"Oh, alright. That's cool, big man. I guess we'll catch you later, then."

"Alright," I said and headed towards the lobby. Jessica was already waiting for me. "Hey!" I greeted when I saw her.

"Hi," she responded, her voice as soft as ever. "So, where are we going?"

"I actually know this really great place that Randy and I went to last time we were here. It's just a quiet little café. Is that alright?"

"Sure, I don't care."

We walked out to my rental, a black BMW convertible.

"Wow. Must be nice to drive this around," she commented. "I don't even get my own rental."

"Are you serious? How can they not give a rental to one of the writers?"

"They say that the wrestlers get priority because they have to be on the road all the time whereas the writers don't. Hell, I don't even have to be at the live events if I don't want to. As long as I get my stuff into the office the day before," she said and got into the car.

We drove about twenty minutes before reaching the small café just outside Tampa. Once we were seated, we ordered our drinks.

"So tell me about yourself, Jessica."

"There's not that much to tell," she said, flipping through the pages of the menu.

"Well, surely there's something. Where you're from, how you came to be a writer, your family. Any of that."

"Okay, I'm from New York and…"

"Are you serious?" I interrupted as she nodded. "Sorry, it's just that you don't have that famous New York accent."

"I do. Just only when people really piss me off. Anyway, I lived in Manhattan until I was eighteen then I went to college in Boston had a couple of journalism jobs for the local paper and I just recently bought a house there."

"And your family? Are they still in Manhattan/"

She hesitated before answering. "I really don't know and quite frankly I really don't care."

"I'm sorry, Jessica," I said, almost speechless. "I shouldn't have…"

"Don't worry about it and you can call me Jessie."

For awhile things were kind of tense. I didn't know what else I could say after that. We ordered our food but the silence continued.

"So, Dave, when do you think it should be your turn for the World Heavyweight Title?" she asked, causing the tension to go away.

"It doesn't matter when I think I should get it. That's your decision."

"What makes you think I want you to get it?"

"Who wouldn't? I mean, look at me. I'm the total package. You can't hold this back from the fans," I answered, cockily. "Of course, right now H has the belt and as long as he has it, I wouldn't want a shot at it."

"Why's that?" she asked, curiously.

"It would totally corrupt Evolution. That can't happen."

"Then I have good news for you. Triple H won't have his belt for much longer."