Chapta 2: Business with pleasure

"What are you doing later?" Randy asked.

"Mr. Orton," I said frustrated. I pressed the down button for the elevator.

"How bout it we could go get something to eat." He said.

Why won't he just fuck off? If he doesn't leave me alone I'll beat his ass with my purse. Trust me; it's like a ton of bricks. Thank God the elevator reached the floor. I walked in quickly. But he had to follow behind me. "Mr. Orton," I said angrily.

"Call me Randy," he said.

"I don't mix business with pleasure" I said. He stepped towards me and suddenly had me trapped in the corner of the elevator.

"Maybe you should," he whispered with a grin on his face. I didn't know why but my body suddenly turned weak.

Ding. The elevator reached the garage.

"Leave me alone." I groaned moving away from him. I practically ran off the elevator I just needed to get far away from him.

"See you next week, gorgeous!" he called out after me. I jumped in my white beemer and sped home. Please don't make next week come

On Saturday I got my hair and nails done. I was using my weekend to vent from Friday's meeting with Mr. Orton. I went home and pulled out my Louis Vuitton luggage and began to pack. Suddenly, the door bell rang. I answered it. A old fat guy was holding a bouquet of roses.

"Flowers for Alexandria Taylor" he said.

"That's me" I said. I signed for them. "Thank You, they're so pretty."

I rushed back into my house and placed them on the table and grabbed the card.

Mix business with pleasure. Can't wait to see you at Smackdown, gorgeous.

Randy

I suddenly felt sick to my stomach I tossed the card on the floor and grabbed the roses. I threw them in the garbage and grabbed the card his number was on it. I dialed it quickly on my cell phone.

"What the fuck is your problem?" I said.

"So you got my flowers, did you like them?" he asked. Damn, smart ass.

"Fuck off, Mr. Orton," I said bitterly.

"Okay feisty, why don't you come to my hotel room and take your anger out on me," he whispered.

"How about no, perv" I said plopping down on my couch. I turned the TV on and flipped it to BET.

"Hey, it's your loss babe. See you at Smackdown," he said. I snapped my cell phone shut and threw it on the couch. I had a fucking headache. Then my door bell rang again.

"Why don't you fuck off?" I yelled opening the door.

"Damn, is that how you speak to your best friend?" Angel asked. She looked offended.

"Oh my god, Angel I'm sorry" I said hugging her.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked.

"Work is pissing me off," I sighed.

"And you thought watching the BET awards for the tenth time would help?" she asked taking off her coat.

"No, I don't know. I just got roses from this guy-"
"Roses? I like him already is he one of those fine ass wrestlers you working with?" she asked digging in her purse and tossing me a snickers bar.

"Thanks. No it's this jerk he's hitting on me and wont leave me the hell alone and the worst thing is that I gotta follow him around as his publicist," I took a bite of my snicker's bar.

"Oh, who is he?" Angel asked.

"Randy Orton," I said in between chewing.

"Oh shit!" She said.

"You know him?" I asked un-amused.

"Yeah my little brother Andrew watches him. He is sexy." I gave her the look of death. "Alex, come on he sounds like he really like's you and he is fine. Why don't you give him a chance?"

"Because…." I said trying to find the words so many things ran through my mind. My eyes began to water. I didn't know why. " Because….I cant"