Chapter Two – My Suggestion
I disclaim
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Randy was up nice and early at the hotel getting ready to meet with Lacie. He tried on all three of the suits he brought, his regular t-shirts and jeans, button downs and jeans and several pullovers with jeans and the dress pants. A suit. It was professional and it was custom made so it fit him perfectly. Black suit, white button down and which tie? John was rooming with him and woke up to all the commotion Randy was causing. He watched his best friend fret over what to wear. Black pants and a white shirt looked too much like a waiter. How about just a simple pair of khakis and a dress shirt? No tie? Tie. No, skip the tie. Yes, wear the fucking tie.
"What the fuck are you doin, pussy?" John said as he stretched and scratched his balls. Randy rolled his eyes when he glanced over and got a shot of John's package.
"I have a meeting at 8." He answered as he looked in the mirror and held up each tie.
"With who?" John asked as he got up to relieve himself scratching his ass in the process.
"Asshole, quit sleeping naked when we room together. It's with Lacie." He chose the multi-colored tie and took a deep breath.
"Lacie? Why are you meeting with her?" John yelled from the bathroom. "You don't really think you have a chance to get her in your video do you?" He was trying to play it cool and not get worked up. Sometimes he wondered if it would matter to Randy that another guy was interested in the same girl he was. Being his best friend, would Randy back off or consider it a greater challenge? On the other hand, would he do the same? Would he back away if Randy and Lacie showed interest in eachother? Should he tell Randy and act like a five year old? I saw her first. Asshole.
Not many would know it but John was almost introverted when it came to girls. The only reason he'd met with Lacie was because Paul and Stephanie invited him to dinner. Why did they invite him to dinner if Paul was supposed to be aligning with Orton professionally? Not complaining, just observing. "You look like a fuckin pansy. Why do you put that shit in your hair? And you stink, you smell like a girl. What do the whores backstage call you? A homosexual?" John smirk behind Randy's back knowing this would bother him as his sexuality was questioned all over the internet.
"Metrosexual you dumbass mother fucker. You should put a little effort into your appearance; maybe a girl would notice you." Randy knew John had no trouble getting laid, he just never understood how. John wore deodorant as his cologne and threw a hat on his big ass head. Those stupid long shorts or short pants, whatever they fucking call them looked ridiculous and he wears his own promo t-shirt outside the arena. Who does that? Does John Cena really need to promote himself? Idiot. Randy looked at his fingernails and checked them to make sure they were trimmed and lotioned to perfection. Metro or not, I look good. "You smell like the underside of Snitsky's balls after two minutes in the ring." Randy smirked with that one. The entire locker room knew how bad poor Gene stunk after each match. The dude was just funky. Sweaty onions, is that a smell?
Randy flipped off John as he headed out the door. He went over his proposal the entire drive to the offices and knew it was a long shot. Well, his chances were slim to none she'd agree, but what the hell, it was worth a try, right? Besides, what woman has ever turned down Randy Orton? Well, there was that girl in high school. And that one at the academy. Oh yeah, the one at the dealership. So, three. Three out of thousands. Okay hundreds. He rolled his eyes at himself as he parked his rental. He needed to sound professional. Put on a great presentation and point out all the reasons she should do this. It's juvenile. Gee, will you be in my music video? Sounds pathetic. What the fuck am I doing?
As he rode up the elevator, he argued with himself on whether or not to even ask her. Odds were good she was just amusing him and would listen for five minutes and then dismiss it without a second thought. He let the receptionist know he was here for the meeting and sat down to wait. For about the millionth time, he thought of what he would say. All business, all business, tell her why she should do this, all business.
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Randy walked back into the hotel room as John was packing his bag. He threw his papers on the bed and let his body fall back, crushing the papers beneath him. "How did it go?" John asked as Randy covered his eyes with his hands.
"She said she'd think about it." He answered dejectedly.
"That's good right?" John followed, playing it off as if he had no interest.
"I guess. She could be just amusing me and she'll have her secretary call me and turn me down." Randy sat up but kept his head down. John looked up at the ceiling and mouthed 'thank you'. "What was I thinking anyway? I mean, did I really think a high powered woman would be interested in my entrance video? Nobody even knows who the fuck I am."
"Sure they do, you're Cowboy Bob's kid." John knew Randy hated that and had been doing his damndest to get people to look at him as an individual without the last name of Orton. Randy rolled his eyes and grabbed his workout gear. He needed to blow of some steam and some stupidity.
The instant Randy walked out the door John was on the phone. He wanted to know Lacie's intentions. He was acting like a jealous boyfriend and all they'd had was one dinner. John was insecure when it came to Orton. He had seen Randy's appeal when they were in Louisville, he could pull women without knowing it. Randy Orton could get laid in the grocery aisle at the local mom and pop store in a town filled with lesbians. John knew first hand the power of Orton. Several times he'd been interested in a girl and she'd either blown him off for Orton or used him to get to Orton. He was hoping this wasn't another one of those times.
"Voicemail. Great, I hope she calls…hey Lacie, its John. I just wanted to see how you were and say thank you again for having dinner with me the other night. I'd like to do it again sometime so call me when you're available. That is if you want too. I mean, if you're not busy. Of course you're busy, I just mean if you find the time and you'd like to have dinner with me. Okay, well. Bye." John hung up and threw the phone. "Son of a fucking bitch!"
"Now I need to blow off steam." John said to nobody in particular and grabbed his gear. His phone rang as he was walking out and he debated going back to get his phone. He dropped his bag at the door and answered the phone. "What!"
"John Cena please." A female voice said.
"You got him how can I help you?" John sounded annoyed. He was.
"John its Lacie. I saw your number on my caller id so I'm calling you back." Lacie sat at her desk signing contracts and returning calls when her cell rang and she saw John's number. She had debated calling him back, but it wasn't like she had better things to do. She did like him, a lot.
"Lacie! Hi! Um, did you listen to my voicemail?" John asked.
"No, I just called you back without checking. Should I check it?" She said passing papers to her assistant.
"No! Uh, no. Just delete it." John kicked his duffle bag and banged his head on the wall. No wonder Orton gets all the girls I sound like a pussy.
"Okay, I'll delete it. How can I help you, Mr. Cena?" Lacie packed her briefcase and began shutting down her office. She had a plane to catch to Los Angeles, a trip she dreaded and fought tooth and nail.
"Um, yeah. Well, um. Are you uh…busy?" Fucking idiot!
"I'm on my way out the door. I have a flight to catch. What's up?" She was distracted and barely listening. She wanted to talk to John, but had other things controlling her thoughts.
"A flight? You're leaving?" John began to panic.
"Going to LA." Lacie didn't mind talking to him now that she was, but she needed to leave or she'd miss her flight.
"Oh. When will you be back?" Another head bang on the wall. He had no business asking and he was hoping he didn't sound like an overprotective idiot. Well, he knew he sounded like an idiot, he just hoped it was mild idiocy.
"I'll be gone for the rest of the week, why do you ask?" Lacie stopped at the elevator doors and tapped her foot as she waited. Her watch seemed to be going faster than real time. Either that or she's really dragging ass.
Here we go Cena. "Well, I as wondering if you'd like to join me for dinner sometime?" His voice hitched at the end and he wondered if it was possible to sound more ridiculous. A prepubescent teenager was a good description.
"Aren't you on the road?" How could they have dinner when he traveled four days a week and lived in Massachusetts? Finally the elevator.
"Um, yes. We leave later today, but we could always plan something when we're in the same city." Am I actually talking fast? Not like I haven't spent time with her, we had dinner together.
"Sure, I'd like that. You have my email right?" Lacie asked digging in her bag for her keys.
"Yes, I'll let you know where we'll be and when." John said, slowing his voice and attempting to sound like an adult. "Have a safe trip, Lacie." He loved saying her name.
"We'll talk soon." Lacie hung up and headed for the airport. She called Steph to share what just happened with John and the events with Randy.
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"I thought you had fun when we all went to dinner." Stephanie asked. "You and John appeared to get along nicely." Stephanie was used to this from her friend. Lacie had no patience. She was the typical workaholic with no social life. She preferred to have her face buried in paperwork and story boards than out on a date. Stephanie just rolled her eyes.
"I did have fun, but when do I have time? And he's younger than I am." Lacie had every excuse in the book not to date. She'd had her heart broken and that was one too many.
"Is that all you've got?" Steph asked chuckling. "You need to try harder; your excuses are getting lame, Lace."
"Lame? It's not an excuse…" She was trying to check in at the airport and talk to Steph, not an easy thing to do when you're trying to deny you may like a potential suitor and go through security checkpoints without revealing who you're speaking too.
"It's an excuse Lacie. You need to have a relationship with someone other than coworkers." Stephanie looked at her husband, Paul and he gave her a 'don't meddle' look. Stephanie gave him the 'what' look.
"Where is it written I need a man? I don't…"Lacie realized she was speaking rather loudly.
"You need to get laid. Now. Not a year from now. Not eventually. You need to get laid in the next week." Stephanie said, almost demanded, as Paul smirked at her.
"I am so not having this conversation right now." Lacie, as usual, went straight to the 1st class section of the plane. She always timed her arrival with that of the boarding time so she didn't have to sit with hundreds of others waiting to be called to board the plane.
"I'm giving John a few days off and you're going to have some sex." Steph had a hard time not laughing as Paul demonstrated sexual acts in front of her.
"Oh hell no. You are not doing something so insane. I don't need to have sex!" Lacie drew several giggles and chuckles from the others in first class and sank into her seat.
"You need an orgasm. Are you even masturbating?" Steph was just goading her now. She knew Lacie hated these kinds of discussions much less in public.
"I don't do that." She said sternly.
"You don't do that?" Steph replied more as a statement than a question.
"No, I don't do that. I don't need too." Sounded perfectly logical to Lacie.
"You don't need too." Stephanie looked at Paul with shock. "Honey, we all need too. You have an itch so scratch it. A lot." Paul held in his laughter as he thought of Lacie's mortification at the subject matter. "And you need something to scratch it with; I'll have a scratcher waiting for you when you get back. Better yet, I'll tell you which store to go to in LA."
"I don't have an itch that needs scratching and I absolutely will not frequent an establishment that engages in scratcher sales." The gentleman seated next to Lacie smiled as he read his book. The man thought Lacie was stunning and wished he had the guts to tell her he'd scratch her itch.
"Fine. Get a new shower head." Paul looked at his wife and wondered if he should be concerned or excited. "One of the hundred dollar varieties with different settings."
"Why the fuck do I need a new shower head?" Lacie said rather loudly yet again. "Oh absolutely not. Are you crazy?" She responded when her brain caught up to the conversation. "No."
Either you get a scratcher in LA, a new shower head when you get back or John gets a minivacation." Steph winked at Paul. "Your choice but those are the only choices."
"Bitch." Lacie said and hung up. Stephanie and Paul laughed and headed to their bedroom, worked up after that conversation and Paul wanted to see the shower head demonstration. Lacie let her mind think about the two latter choices. She wasn't a masturbator of any sort, so that left John. He was gorgeous. Nicely built. Probably had a little dick. Doubt it.