CHAPTER 5 – "Fully Loaded"
It was the big day: this evening Fresia would have had Mark Calaway all for herself. She bought the necessary with the help of her friends, and then she sneaked in the hotel's kitchen, where she got the authorization to use the oven. She baked pumpkin and mixed the ingredients for the homemade pasta. The hotel's chefs were skeptical, at the beginning. Then they began to move closer, observing Fresia stretching out pasta and cutting it in little squares. Then she stuffed the squares with pumpkin and closed them in the typical shape of Tortelloni. She put down the Tortelloni in a tray and inserted it in freezer.
Then she prepared the meat sauce for pasta. In the end, all the kitchen staff was helping her and Fresia donated them the recipe, to thank them. Then she went in her room, to get ready to the evening.
After a quick shower, she put on her moisturizing perfumed Chanel cream; she wore black lace underwear and parked in front of the wardrobe to pick a dress for the night. She couldn't wear something too much elaborate, 'cause she had to work. So she chose a black, knee-length dress (an essential item in every woman's wardrobe), a little black stole with light blue drawings and her matching light blue stiletto. Obviously at work she would have put on comfortable flip-flops and a white apron over the dress.
She was tense, but she tried to throw herself in her job. It wasn't easy, anyway, because basically all her clients that day knew about the bet, thanks to the large mouth of her friends, who had spread the news everywhere. Each and every one of them gave her an advice, a warning, an instruction… Everybody was supporting her. She just hoped Mark didn't hear all the noise about their date. He cared about his privacy a lot and she hoped that all the rumors didn't ruin her evening.
Finally, it was time for the main event, a match between Mark and Kurt Angle. As usual, Fresia followed the show from her spot in the backstage, shouting like a banshee every time Mark smacked Kurt around. She was so proud of him, a professional who gave his life for this sport. She caressed him with her eyes, looking him exiting the ring, the crowd chanting his name.
She was at his side, as soon as he arrived, and proceeded to tell him all her emotion, walking him to his locker room. Mark walked slowly, with Fresia at his side, surrounded by her perfume and her exuberance. That night she was pretty, he thought. It was evident she had take care of herself a lot, preparing for their date. Maybe she couldn't compete with beauties like Trish, Lita or Sable. But she possessed an inner spark, a freshness out of the ordinary, especially inside WWF. The entire Raw roster adored her. They arrived at his door and he didn't even open his mouth, yet. Fresia felt more and more nervous. What if he changed his mind about the dinner?
He stopped and looked at her.
"Well – she said to break the silence – I have to tidy up my room. I'll see you at the hotel in an hour Mr. Calaway, room 1002. Does it suit you?"
Ho nodded and closed the door behind him, without words.
Great, he is in a bad mood… just tonight – she thought – Maybe he heard the chit-chat about us. I only hope he didn't think I'm the one gossiping around.
While she stood there, grumbling by herself, Kurt passed by her, going to his dressing room.
"Why are you putting yourself in so much trouble? He doesn't want you…"
Fresia watched him go, wanting to throw something at him. Why so many people thought that beauty was everything, that she couldn't win a man with her soul? Well, she would have succeeded! Fresia raised her chin and marched to her room and into her evening with Mark.
In his dressing room, Mark was taking a shower, sighing with relief. His body was aching everywhere, after the match. Angle was a good opponent, a lot technical and with excellent stamina. Having a match against him meant no time out, every action was the continuation of another… The effect was really strong on the fans…. And on his muscles…
He washed his hair, his mind on the impending date with the Squirrel. He didn't have the courage to tell her he had changed his mind. So he decided to have dinner with her and then explain her why he wasn't the man for her. The only kind of relationship he wanted with a woman was sexual. He didn't want to settle down. He had tried it. He was on the point of getting engaged, a few years ago, but when she started to complain about how he loved his job more than her, he realized she was right. From that moment on, his only love had been wrestling and he would have not allowed interferences.
Glen entered the dressing room and sat at the sofa in the corner of the room. Mark looked at him, lifting an eyebrow in a questioning mode. Glen was the only one he could consider a friend. He was sincere and loved his job, just like him.
Glen watched Mark slip into a pair of black jeans and a matching long-sleeved shirt. A pair of black boot completed the outfit.
"Are you going to Fresia?" Glen always got down to brass tacks.
Mark nodded, braiding his hair.
"Do you intend to fuck her?"
This time Mark looked at him fiercely.
"What? Don't tell me you didn't think about it. She is a pretty girl and she has a crush on you.
"Yeah – Mark replied – but the sort of relationship she wants it's not for me"
"Then you have to tell her now, so she can make a decision: be with you at your terms or tell you to get lost and turn her attention to someone else"
"Someone else? Do you really think she could turn to another man? Who?" Asked Mark. He pictured Fresia in the act of kissing another man and the thought made him mad.
Why? - He wondered – I even didn't like her so much. She is just another girl roaming the WWF.
Glen scanned his face carefully. He has known Mark for years and he was sure there was something different in his eyes. Generally he was uncaring about anything but his job. Not that he was a monster, not at all. He didn't hurt people on purpose, but it happened anyway, when they collided with his character. This time Glen saw a spark in his eyes, arousing his curiosity, so he put Mark to the test.
"I'm going out too. Jessie, the tailor, has the hot for me. Do you know her, don't you? She is a close friend of Fresia, the blond one. I decided to come up to her expectations and tonight we have a date".
Mark was listening absently and Glen unhooked the bomb.
"Seeing that the girls are close friends, I was thinking about a foursome. It could be tempt…"
He couldn't end the phrase; Mark grabbed him by the throat in a powerful grasp.
"Don't you dare to say such idiot things in front of Fresia. And don't you dare to hurt her friend, or you will respond to me" he growled.
Glen managed to free himself with a great effort, then sneered, massaging his throat.
"You fell for it, eh? Now I have my answers: you like that girl, as much as she likes you" Glen said with a sly grin.
"You know, you can be a disgusting old man, when you want. Stay out of my life", Mark grunted. Then he snatched his leather jacket from the chair and exited the room, in a fool mood.
An hour later, Fresia was in front of the mirror in his room, checking her attire for the hundredth time. In the dining room everything was ready. Water was boiling, waiting for Tortelloni. A mixed salad of chicken and potatoes was in the oven. A bottle of red wine was placed in a basket with ice beside the table, set in a white tablecloth with blue and gold borders.
Someone was knocking and Fresia, after a last glance at the mirror, opened the door. Mark stood there; the sexiest man in the world was at her door…. She realized she was staring at him almost drooling so, clearing her throat, she invited him to enter, with a beautiful smile.
"Good evening, Mr. Calaway. Please, come in"
She sneaked a quick look at his hands, in search of flowers, but apparently he didn't even think about it, so she put this idea apart sighing and accompanied him in the little dining room. She went at the stove and put the Tortelloni in the hot water.
"It will take just 5 minutes, why don't you open the bottle, so we can drink to our friendship?"
He made the cork fly away in a second and poured the wine in the glasses.
"I have to admit I'm abstemious – she said – so I will have just a taste.
She lifted her glass, with smiling eyes: "To our friendship. And to the Undertaker's next victories"
She touched his glass with hers, with a cheerful tinkle, and sampled the wine just a little. Mark didn't say a word, but drank his wine slowly, his eyes fixed on her.
Sure you can't say this is a talkative man – Fresia thought – It's like talking with the thin air. I hope not to have to do it all the night.
She placed the glass on the table and checked pasta that was almost ready. Mark sat at the table and poured himself another glass of wine. Brunello di Montalcino, said the label. Very good. The girl had taste in everything, he admitted. She dressed casual but elegant; she was never shabby or untidy. She could pick wine even if she was abstemious, and judging by the smell of it, she was a good cook too. He knew she was trying to win him over, but he couldn't allow it. Sure he would have liked to toss her in his bad for a couple of hours, but nothing more.
In the meanwhile, Fresia was ready for the main course. She served Mark a huge portion of pasta with Parmigiano, then a much smaller one to herself.
"Enjoy your meal, Mr. Calaway. Taste it and tell me your opinion".
Mark sank the fork in a Tortellone and put it in his mouth. The sweet and tasty stuffing rolled on his tongue, capturing him instantly.
"They're very good, well done Squirrel" he said, demolishing his pasta with enthusiasm. He ended his portion and took another, less generous, but with a lot of Parmigiano.
Fresia was thrilled, he sure was complimenting her cooking. After the second portion of pasta, Mark attacked the chicken and potatoes salad with gusto. She chatted lightheartedly during the whole dinner, telling him about her family, her brother and her adored nephew. He never replied, just a few grunts here and there. Ok, he had his mouth full, but couldn't he make a little pause just to ask her something? Didn't he care about her at all?
Sighing, she took the dessert from the refrigerator. It was a cake with meringue and whipped cream, soft and rich. A huge slice disappeared from Mark's dish in less than a minute. Fresia stood up, to make coffee, more and more upset and since she wasn't a coward, she decided to confront Mark.
"Tell me something, Mr. Calaway, did you lose your vocal cords in the ring or cat got your tongue?"
Mark, who was drinking the last glass of wine, almost spat it all around the room. A little bit of liquid went down the wrong way and he started to cough. Fresia ran at his side, trying to help with little blows on his back.
Jesus, I shocked him, I'm a loser, she thought dismayed.
Mark regained self control, slowly. He looked at Fresia straight in the eyes. She was right, she deserved to know why he had behaved like a mule all evening. Well, he always was a mule, but this time he had been actually obscure. She served him a second cup of coffee and he sat down, sipping it slowly. Dinner had been fantastic, he had to admit it, and Fresia an attentive mate.
"I'm sorry Squirrel, I was trying to find the right way to tell you something"
She looked at him in expectation, sensing he was going to say some unpleasant stuff.
"I know what you're trying to do and I wanted to make you understand I'm not the one for you. I'm a loner, I don't like people, you should know by now, 'cause you've never seen me going out with my coworkers and every time you met me, I was always on my own."
She remained quiet, waiting for him to carry on.
"Believe me, I'm not always alone. I'm a man and I like female company, every now and then. But it's never with the same woman and before the night is over I'm gone, never looking back. I don't have a relationship planned 'cause what I have now is enough for me. So, Squirrel, if you're thinking about settle down, you can damn well forget about me".
Fresia was a little discouraged, but his arrogance was so unexpected she reacted to it, against her will.
"You know, I just wanted to know better the man I've always admired so much on TV. I wanted to know the man behind The Undertaker. But I have the impression you are The Undertaker all the time, Mr. Calaway, always so dark…. Don't worry, not all women are trying to settle down. I would like to become your friend, to begin with. Oh, I'm not a hypocrite – she stated seeing his skeptical look – I think you are the most sexy man in universe and I wouldn't be disappointed to have my goodnight kiss, before you leave. But I won't run to book the church, after it. I can survive a normal friendship, especially if it will be… how I can say it … an affectionate friendship".
Mark was speechless and it didn't happen easily. He expected tears and pleas, but in front of him stood a woman with great dignity, who knew what she wanted and wasn't frightened to show her feelings. He was even more intrigued than before and didn't know what to say.
But Fresia haven't finished yet.
"If I remember correctly, we made a bet. So, what do you think about my cooking?"
"Well, dinner was perfect" he couldn't deny the truth.
"Are you going to comply with the bet, then? Will you invite me out?"
"I always keep my word, Squirrel, but don't forget what I told you earlier".
"I won't, on condition that you remembered what I told you earlier! Well, by all accounts, we have a date"
"It seems like that, yes" he conceded.
"Well, I'll be waiting for you to tell me when and where. Now if you don't mind I'm very tired, and I still have to tidy up the room".
Was she dismissing him? Damn, that was new for him. He was the one to discharge women, not the other way around. In a way or another, his speech had had an effect, but he wasn't sure he liked it.
Fresia stood up and walked him to the door. He got more and more annoyed and decided to take control again.
Did she talk about a goodnight kiss? Well, the little one needs to understand what her place is.
She tried to open the door, but he blocked it with his left arm. Fresia turned around, finding herself face to chest with Mark. She looked up at him and saw a determination in his eyes that scared her a little, but she tried not to show it. He put his right hand in her hair, destroying her chignon, then he bent his head and took her mouth in a short but deep and dominant kiss. When he felt her trembling like a leaf, he removed his lips. Fresia was breathing hard, her head was spinning and her heart was beating wildly.
"Well, I think you can call me Mark, from now on. Goodnight Squirrel" he murmured in her ear. Then he opened the door and went away, leaving a dazed Fresia behind