Chapt. 13

Joe heard the steady vibration of his phone. He made a mental note as it buzzed him out of his dream to find out how to turn the damn vibration down. He reached blindly for the phone and swiped the screen to turn it on. He saw Claire's name there and ran his hand through his hair with a sleepy smile. He'd just been dreaming of her and here she was, texting him. What had her awake still he wondered? He read her text and his smile only broadened.

"We should maybe do it again sometime."

It was those words that held his attention. What on earth had changed her mind? He wasn't complaining, oh no, not at all, he was just curious as to what had brought on her change of heart. He read the words once more before he replied.

"I had a great time talking and learning who you are. I'd definitely be happy to do it again, anytime that you're willing to give me that opportunity." Laying his phone back on the bed beside him, he folded his arms behind his head and looked up at the ceiling. He became lost in thought of her freckles and how he found them to be insanely cute. He had a feeling she wouldn't agree with him but that was okay too. Then there was the way her nose would wrinkle up when she laughed. He had to admit that he tried to make her laugh tonight just to see it, that and to hear that laugh of hers. It was a full laugh, one that said she meant it. She had his attention. That was something no female had been able to say in years.

Claire read his response and caught herself smiling. Smiling and hoping that he would be at the performance center the next day. They had made no official appointment for then to discuss the storyline she had worked up and now she almost regretted it. She rolled over and pulled the cover up to her chin in the cold, air conditioned room, and fell asleep with a smile on her face.

It as ten the next morning when Claire walked into the performance center. She walked down the hallway toward her office and stopped short when she saw the ribbon tied tissue paper lying on the floor at her office door. What in the world, she thought, was this? She kneeled down and saw a beautiful English rose bouquet in a pale, blushing peach color. There were pale blue and creamy colored forget me nots mixed in with the roses to perfectly match the pale blue tissue paper holding the flowers. Her hand was pressed to her chest and he was smiling against her will. There was no card, but she knew who had left them.

Taking the flowers in her hand, she stood and instead of going into her office she made her way to the training floor. There he was, tall and dark, sweaty and hot in every sense of the word. He was running drills in one of the rings and it took a minute for him to look her way. She smiled and brought the flowers up to smell of them He winked down at her and she knew that her initial belief that he had sent them was right. She smiled at him one more time before turning and heading into her office.

As she booted up her computer she found herself lost in thought. As she caught herself smiling yet again she realized that she had smiled more in the last two days than she had in the last two years and that said so much to her. Shaking herself from her thoughts she stood and took the vase sitting on her desk and tossed the flowers that it held into the trash can and refilled it with hot water. She would never forget her grandmother teaching her that hot water would extend the life of the flowers and always allowed the water to steam before adding it to the vase. Once the vase was about a fourth full she carried it back to her desk. She carefully unwrapped the flowers and then oh so carefully slipped them into the vase. They were absolutely beautiful. The pale blue reminded her of Joe's eyes. She smiled as she pulled a notebook from her bag. She began to jot notes and ideas on the faction she was hoping to put together. She had meetings planned with both Jon Good and Colby Lopez that morning to go over the ideas in her head and to feel them out.

It was thirty minutes later when there was a rap on her door and a husky, smoky voice cut through the silence. "Miss Claire, Jonathon Good reporting to the principal's office ma'am. You wanted to see me?" He had walked in and taken his seat across from her as he spoke, an almost arrogant look on his face, almost.

"Far from the principal's office Mr. Good," she said with a grin. For some reason it was as if he demanded a grin. "I'd like to think our meeting is for a better purpose than a trip to the principle." His husky laugh filled her space and she thought he could be attractive if only he were kinda guy, which he wasn't.

"Look, we can drop that Mr. Good crap. That was my father and he was far from good. He was in fact a barely there ass." He paused and smirked, his fingers tracing his lips. "Excuse the language ma'am. Seriously though, just call me Jon. Or Dean. I've gotten used to that around here."

"Well then, Jon, I'm sure you're wondering why I asked to see you so I'll get right to it. I'm looking at an angle for Joe and honestly, I think he needs more than what he has to make main roster status."

"Okay, now tell me how Joe getting called up has a thing to do with me sugar cause right now it's kinda feeling like his going up is just bein slammed in my face."

Claire shuffled papers around on her desk in silence for a moment. She finally looked up and gave him a sweet and sarcastic smile. "Actually Jon, his moving up has more to do with you than you can imagine." She slid the file across the desk and looked up at him. "Take a look at that, read it over. Take your time then we can talk." She saw him raise his eyebrow at her, wondering exactly what the hell she was up to and what he was about to read. With not another word she turned to her computer screen and left him to read.

Fifteen minutes later he ran his hands through his hair and shook his head with a shaky laugh. "You've either lost your damn mind or you're a fucking genius."

She turned to him and met his smile with one of her own. "Let's hope it's me just being a genius. I take it that it's peaked your interest?"

"You could say that. How about you tell me more about this role I'd have in this little faction."

"I'd be glad to, but I need to know you some more. Tell me about you. Not the Dean Ambrose part of you, the Jonathon Good you."

"You really don't want to get inside of that twisted mind, I can assure you."

"Then give me the tame version."

He sat silent for a minute and kept cutting his eyes to the door, like he wanted to make a quick escape. She wondered for a brief second if he would do just that. What on earth was so bad about who he was that he had to weigh out sharing it or bolting through the door and passing over the chance to move up to the big time? She wasn't going to push him anymore to open up, no, she thought, if he did it would be on him.

"I had a dad in my life until I was about twelve, if you could call the abusive asshole a dad. He liked hitting on me and mama, you know, when he was drunk and we gave him good reason to smack the shit out of us. I almost think mama liked it. She stayed after all. She ended up in the damn bottle too, maybe to numb the beatings she got. I started getting hit more and more, but I had nowhere to turn to numb that shit. I just had to suck it up and take it. When dad took off on us mama picked up where he left off with the beatings on me. I ended up a runaway at fourteen, hooked on drugs within a month of that, and I was in out of jail for fighting, petty theft, and vandalizing shit. I was a bad ass punk kid until I found wrestling. I guess I still hold on to that mental frame of mind and people kinda think I'm crazy but ya know if they'd lived my life they'd be kinda nuts to."

Claire had no words to follow that. What could she say? She was sorry? No, she knew all too well that I'm sorry was not the words to say. She sat silently and simply scribbled notes on her pad. She knew that playing him as the unstable member of the trio, that one who you just never knew what they were going to do, was the right way to take his character.

"What you scribbling out over there? I swear you're about to catch that paper on fire as fast as you got that pencil moving."

She slid the paper to him and watched as his face broke into a slow smile. "Well I'll be damned little bit, I do believe you are a genius."