Chapter XIII: After Dinner Resolutions

For the rest of the week, revenge on Adrienne Bradley was all Samia thought about. Her biggest problem was that she couldn't come up with anything on her own in retaliation without getting arrested and spending quite a bit of time in jail. This wasn't like her to be so blood-thirsty but she wasn't going to sit back and be walked all over by everybody in the company. She had won a few souls over—Ms. Salley and some of the staff, along with the Undertaker still occasionally saying a few nice words to her—but all of RVD's friends still hated her and Rob was farther back in his feelings than they were.

Samia had just about decided that her only choice was a voodoo doll and some pickle juice when a ridiculous thought popped into her head. She would just call Rob and tell him the truth. She had her proof now and he would have to understand. He'd drop Adrienne in a heartbeat, apologize to her, and then sweep her off her feet. She got shivers as she thought about how good it would to, um, make-up for this misunderstanding.

The determined woman made some calls to find out where Rob was staying. "Rob? This is Samia," she anxiously replied to his 'hello.'

"Yeah?" he answered.

She took a deep breath and asked, "Can we talk?"

"What?" He was already on the defensive.

"Can we meet somewhere?" she barely stammered out.

She heard a woman's laughter in the background. "Maybe it best that we talk on the phone," he replied icily. Samia figured then it was useless and that the laugh probably belonged to Adrienne.

"Rob, it was Adrienne, not me. She helped Benoit make you lose the belt and trash your room."

"Samia, I'm not stupid. You had on that same sweatshirt and I saw the ring I gave you," he replied, the anger rising in his voice.

"It was stolen from me," she said, continuing to plead her case. But then she added the wrong name. "Ask Shawn Michaels. He was there when I realized it was gone."

"He would say anything to suit himself," he huffed.

"Okay, forget Shawn. If I did it, then why would I have taken the time to cover my head with a hood. Benoit hit me over the head or Adrienne did—"

"Why did you answer the door when I specifically told you to keep it locked?"

"It was Adrienne. I thought I could trust her!" she exclaimed, her voice rising in exasperation.

"Tell me this—why would Adrienne want to do that?"

"My best guess is that she wanted you and I stood in the way," she answered.

"Get real, Samia," Rob snapped. "This is just jealousy. You're jealous that we're together now. You know, I was a little concerned about you when y'all got in a fight but Shawn was conveniently there to save you again. You can't have your cake and eat it too."

"Please, Rob, listen to me," she pleaded

"There's nothing left to say. You tore my heart to pieces when you and Benoit did what you did. You stomped all over what was left when I saw you curled up in Michaels' lap. I completely trusted you. I gave you the benefit of the doubt every time I caught you with them. The least you could have done was plot in secret."

"I didn't—"

Rob quickly cut her off. "No. Like I said, there's nothing left for you to say. I might have listened if you hadn't started accusing Adrienne. I do have something to say to you—if you have to keep on trying, leave Adrienne out of it."

"Rob—" He had already hung up. In frustration, she slammed the receiver into its cradle. The phone immediately rang, causing her to jump out of her skin. Hoping Rob had changed his mind, she quickly answered.

"Mia, hi! How's it going?"

"Oh, it's you," she dejectedly answered. "Don't ask."

"Don't ask what? 'How's it going' or 'you want to go out and have dinner?'" Shawn Michaels asked, a little bit of lasciviousness in his voice.

She sighed, "Both."

"Can I ask a favor then?"

"Shoot," she replied stoically.

"My contract's up and Vince just gave me my new one to look over. Since you're a lawyer and all, would you mind looking over it for me?" he asked with honey dripping from his tongue.

"I haven't worked specifically in the entertainment business. Most of my contract work was done for divorces and pre-nups. I was studying to be a criminal lawyer. Besides, I've not really practiced in a while," she replied, not really wanting to mess up his contract if she missed something.

"Doesn't matter. I've been real suspicious about McMahon and I want to make sure he's not pulling one over on me. Mind if I come over?"

"How about we look over it at dinner?" she sighed. The ex-valet was aching from loneliness, from the need to be touched again like a woman, and the suave Shawn was someone she didn't need to be alone with in her room.

"Even better. Pick you up in an hour?" he asked and she reluctantly agreed and began getting ready. Exactly an hour later, her phone rang again and she rushed to answer it, just hoping it might be Rob after considering her accusation against Adrienne.

"Ms. Carlsen?" the unfamiliar voice asked.

"Yes?"

"You have a visitor in the lobby. Shall I send Mr. Michaels up?"

"No. I'll be down in a moment. Thank you, sir," she replied with indifference in her voice. She glanced over her dress in the mirror and had to chide herself when butterflies began awakening in her stomach, betraying the coolness on the phone with the desk clerk.

Shawn met her at the elevator doors and offered her his arm. She had to pause for a moment because she was so taken aback by the sight in front of her. Shawn was dressed in khakis, a white polo, and a navy blue blazer. He had left his hair down and it fell in soft waves around his shoulders. Wow! was her only thought. He was already handsome in just jeans and a pony-tail but now he blew her away. She finally took his arm and he escorted her to his car of the week.

Once in the sleek, black Lamborghini, Shawn asked, "What had your feathers so ruffled when I called?"

"The usual."

"Usually it's us but I know we didn't do anything this time. So, it had to be Rob. What did he do now?" With permission, she now launched into an all-out explanation of the phone call.

"Think about this, Samia," Shawn said, tapping his temple. "If he doesn't care enough to listen to you, then you don't need him. If he's that insensitive, why should he matter to you?"

"Love doesn't care," she quietly replied and looked down at her hands.

"Love? Doesn't sound like much love on his end," he replied, taking his eyes off the road to glance at her.

"But we were doing so well. We were so happy…" she squeaked, slapping the backs of her hands against her thighs for emphasis.

"But now he doesn't seem to give a rip. He doesn't want to listen. You don't need someone like that," he responded, grabbing the trembling hand she brought to her mouth.

"Maybe you're right," she glanced out the window as the city lights whizzed by in a rainbow of colors.

"I changed my mind. Don't think about it right now. It bothers you too much," Shawn soothingly said, placing her hand back in her lap and patting it before grasping the wheel again with both hands. "Enjoy tonight since you don't go out enough anymore."

"I don't know if I can."

"I won't ask you to do it for me. Do it for yourself." He glanced back over at her and smiled. She smiled back and he reached over to pat her hand again. This time she was aware of his hand on hers and the butterflies quickly came back, each bringing a friend and starting a riot. This feeling would have terrified her if she hadn't justified it weeks ago by deciding all warm-blooded women would feel this way if given any attention by The Heartbreak Kid. Wasn't he given that name for a reason?

Shawn had chosen a ritzy restaurant befitting his stature. She tried to protest but he wouldn't have it. Once the drinks came, she asked to see his contract, getting down to business so she wouldn't have to answer any of Shawn's personal questions to her. To her surprise, he simply silently watched her peruse the document. She made little marks here and there for reference and frequently flipped back and forth between the pages. "Tell me again. Are you really still able to physically wrestle?" she asked.

"Do you want the truth or what I have my physician tell McMahon?" he asked with a goofy smile.

"Pick one and stick with it," she stoically replied.

"What my physician tells McMahon."

Without a word to his response, Samia underlined a few statements and drew a big asterisk. "Check this clause real close. I think this part should be redrawn. Look over some of the other things I marked but I don't think they're a problem. Your call. I don't even know why you asked me. You've been in this business forever and I've not been here six months."

"I always left this kind of stuff up to my lawyer," he replied with a shrug, adamantly refusing to admit that this was just a smokescreen to entice her to go out with him in his and Kevin's plan to lure her in.

"Where is he now?"

"I fired him a while back and just haven't gone looking for anyone else. Why should I when I've got you?" Shawn asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Free labor. Why not?"

He shook his head and replied, "You got a meal out of it."

"Oooh," Samia responded, wiggling her fingers at him, "I got paid more than that on the first day of my first job out of school."

"I'll make it up to you," he said in a sultry voice, putting a hand over hers.

"Don't worry about it." Samia removed her hand and waved him off. "You really have done a lot for me already and I don't mean that sarcastically. If I didn't have you pushing me, I'd be back home and really depressed."

"Anything for you, Angel." She smiled at his comment and shyly looked away, not really knowing how to respond.

Their food finally arrived and the conversation strayed away from wrestling—until they both heard a familiar laugh. They turned to see Eddie Guerrero across the room, cutting up with a beautiful Latino woman. Guerrero's eyes met Shawn's and he glared at him, mouthing a few words in Spanish. Shawn quickly turned back to their dinner, obviously angry at the words. "What did he say?" Samia prodded.

"Don't worry about it. He's just trying to be trouble."

"Cleans up pretty nice, doesn't he? He's almost good-looking," she commented, looking back over her shoulder at Eddie.

"Yeah, he'd be a real ladies' man if he wasn't so vile," Shawn replied, with a disgusted looked on his face.

"This from the horse's mouth too. So when did you learn Spanish?" she inquired.

"Long story," he answered, blushing.

"Shawn Michaels blushing? Let's hear it. It's got to be interesting." Shawn continually declined to explain himself. Eventually she gave up prodding him. After dinner, they returned to her hotel room with him walking her to the door, something she once again protested and he would have none of.

"Thanks for your help."

"No, thank you for tonight. I've been so busy at work and trying to keep Rob out of my mind, I forgot how to just be," she sighed and leaned up against the door. At first, she was apprehensive about the dinnerdate but, now, she was grateful for the moment's escape, even if it was Shawn Michaels.

"You don't do this enough," he replied, stepping closer to close the gap that she had opened.

"I know. But I've lost everyone who once were my friends and it's no fun by yourself."

"But you've got us, Angel," he said and closed the gap even more.

"Maybe I do." She smiled and looked up at him.

"There's no maybe. Just trust me," he whispered and slowly leaned in to kiss her. She didn't try to turn away from him but met him halfway. He was so intoxicating she couldn't help herself when her hands found themselves around his neck and her lips wholeheartedly returning his kiss. They took their time in exploring each other's mouths, and, after what felt like a forever of breath-taking moments, he gently ended the kiss and pulled back to look into her eyes. She noticed for the first time that his eyes were green around the pupils and then faded into the crystal blue color that overshadowed the olive green.

"Why do you do this to me?" she whispered. His response was to lay her head against his chest. She slid her hands under his coat and around his back. For someone who didn't wrestle frequently, his chest and back muscles were phenomenal. She wanted to feel those muscles, fingertips on bare skin and not his shirt. She pushed the feeling down deep inside her and finally let go of him. After a brief moment of heavy silence, they quietly parted ways.

Despite the wave of euphoria, she settled into bed—one of the other place besides in the laundry room that she always did her best thinking. Maybe Shawn's right, she thought. Why should I even try to make up with Rob when he doesn't even want to try and set things straight? He deserves Adrienne if that's the way he wants to be. I won't…I won't even try anymore. There. I said it. I no longer want Rob Van Dam! Maybe… Okay, I still want him but I just won't pursue him. If he wants me, he'll have to come to me. Alright, that taken care of, now what?

Rob had been the reason she had stayed on after Benoit and Guerrero pulled their little stunt. Again, she pondered the thought of going home but decided, once again, she couldn't stop while in the middle of her dream, or what was sort of her dream. She hoped she could make things better and wondered if she could win her way back into the fans' hearts, which would take a while. However, there was always the nWo. She smiled and cuddled around the pillow, thinking of the kiss between her and Shawn. It couldn't get any worse—that was the truth. It was getting better every day. The ex-valet resolved to just keep going. And maybe I won't turn Shawn down again next time, she thoughtStill on a high, she drifted off for one of her best nights of sleep since her break-up. That persistent niggling thought that the nWo was up to something was temporarily pushed even farther into a back corner of her brain.

TBC…