The sun was shining and Nina had decided to spend her lunch break alone, soaking up the gentle beams of the spring sun on a park bench close to the WWE headquarters. She had brought the flat cap along she had inherited from Stephen. It offered protection against the sun and she liked wearing it.
After having eaten her lunch, consisting of a salad and a sandwich, she stretched out on the bench. She positioned the cap on her face, so she could close her eyes for a couple of minutes. Her cellphone alarm was set, so there was no danger of her getting back too late in case she actually dozed off.
The cap smelled sort of nice, she noticed now that she had her nose practically pressed up against it. Not like hair-gel or anything. She had trouble analyzing that particular smell apart from it being rather nice. Her musings were interrupted by the familiar voices of two coworkers. She left the flat cap on her face, not wanting to interrupt her little siesta. Hopefully they wouldn't come over and pester her with their company. Her worries, however, were completely unfounded. They hadn't noticed her. Still she could hear their voices very clearly. They must have sat down on that little bench across from her, a few meters away.
The two women chattered about the weather for a while and other trivial topics. Nina recognized their voices. The two of them wrote for the diva's division.
Their conversation suddenly took a turn from irrelevance to extreme relevance. "Have you heard about the latest rumor concerning that new girl?" one of the women asked. Nina certainly hadn't. She was curious to hear how that conversation would continue.
"You mean Nina, right?" the other voice asked. "She's kind of nice, sort of quirky, but..."
The first voice interrupted her, blurting out her news as if she could no longer contain herself. "You won't believe it! She's got something going with Sheamus. I heard they hooked up in the men's during Wrestlemania."
"Really?" the other voice practically doubled over in excitement and culminated in a surprised squeal. Nina was thinking something along the same lines, just that she was livid instead of surprised.
"Really!" the first voice confirmed with a giggle.
"She doesn't seem the type," the second voice reasoned and Nina sort of felt compelled to say a mental 'thank you' to her fairly unfamiliar coworker.
"But it has to be true. Mike told me," the other voice gave to think.
Mike! Nina was barely able to contain herself now. That bastard! Just who did he think he was? She wanted to grab the plastic fork she had eaten her salad with and head back to WWE headquarters to stab Mike in his black heart with it. Come to think of it, that sounded a bit bloodthirsty, but she was actually that angry.
It was hard not to jump up from the bench and march back immediately to the WWE to confront Mike about the rumor he had started. All she could do was sit there, her hands balled to fits. Her fingernails were digging into her palms uncomfortably. She would notice those tiny crescent shape indentations later on her way back to the office, for now, however, her mind was consumed with plans of revenge.
During the course of the day her plans of revenge and her anger made room to profound frustration. She was sitting at her desk chewing pensively at the end of a pen when Luke finally had enough of her sulking.
"What's up with you?" he asked.
They were alone in the office. Maria had a meeting with Jack Swagger's writer.
Nina blew out her breath. "Nothing," she lied.
"Sure, a big fat nothing that has you looking like you've turned into the female version of Wade Barrett. All sulky and ill-humored."
"Wade's not ill-humored. He's just not all daisies, sunshine and lollipops. I kind of like that about him," Nina retorted with a little more zest than necessary. She was rather protective of her charges.
"Cut the crap. This is about that stupid rumor making the rounds, right?" Luke was too observant for his own good.
Nina groaned and buried her head in her hands. "You've heard it too? That's great. Just frigging fantastic..." She banged her head against her desktop.
"Come on, it's not that bad. Well, not as bad as what they say about me..."
Nina looked up to stare at him questioningly, her platinum blonde hair hanging into her eyes.
"They say that Leonard Nimoy has a restraining order against me," he explained.
"And? Is it true," Nina's interest was piqued, which briefly pulled her out of her sulk.
"No, it's complete bogus..."
Nina sensed there was more he wasn't telling her so she just stared at him pointedly.
"It's actually Richard Dean Anderson," he said, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Oh, Luke! Really?" Nina gave him an exasperated look.
"He wouldn't sign my MacGyver collectible..." Luke brushed off her remark with an angry wave of his hand. "And you're missing the point."
"So enlighten me..."
"The point is that rumors are stupid and that they'll pass eventually," he told her in a sympathetic voice.
Nina started to reply but was interrupted by the sound of an incoming message on her computer.
RichardWWE: Nina, we need to talk. It's urgent. Meet me at my office ASAP.
Her eyes flitted over the screen. This was bad. Very bad! She ran her hand through her hair, her fingernails scratching over her scalp.
"What's going on?" Luke asked in a preoccupied tone of voice.
"Dickson wants to talk to me," Nina sighed, already getting out of her chair. Luke took a sharp breath, his eyes growing huge in concern.
"Maybe it's nothing," he tried to reassure her.
"Famous last words...," she threw him a bitter smile before she disappeared through the door.
On the way to Dickson's office she kept worrying about what it was that needed discussing so urgently. Was it too much to ask for that it wasn't about that stupid rumor?
Just as soon as she entered his office, however, there was no doubt in her mind that indeed her alleged affair with Stephen was the reason for this urgent meeting.
Dickson kept traipsing around the subject that was hovering between the like the proverbial elephant in the room. Nina finally snapped, unable to take it anymore.
"Why don't you just come out and say it? I assume this is about the latest water cooler gossip," she positioned both her hands on the shiny surface of his desk and threw him a challenging look. He was sitting, she was standing, since she had refused to take a seat at the beginning of this awkward conversation.
"Yes," he hesitantly admitted. "This is a rather unpleasant situation. We usually don't discuss our employees' private lives..."
"Then I don't see why you should start doing it now...," she crossed her arms over her chest.
"I have to, Nina. You leave me no other choice," he told her somewhat regretfully.
"I'm leaving you no other choice?" she ran her hand through her hair. "So you actually believe that crap?"
"Nina," he started, "Miss Stewart," he corrected himself. The fact that he resorted to addressing her with her last name was a clear indication that she was in deep, deep trouble. "Miss Stewart," Dickson started anew after a brief coughing fit, "you are aware that there are no office regulations that forbid the employees of the WWE to interact with each other on a more... private level. But given your position, I would like to point out that this behavior is highly inappropriate and could have severe consequences for your future with the WWE," he finished, unable to meet her eyes.
She took a deep breath, partly to calm herself, partly to formulate a plan of action in her head. Suddenly standing didn't seem like such a good idea anymore. She sat down in the chair behind her.
For a few moments she stared at the tiny bonsai tree standing in front of her on the corner Dickson's desk. It's leafs were neatly trimmed and had a healthy shimmering green color.
She didn't know what to say. Nina ran her hands over her face. Being at a loss for words was a new experience for her.
At this point diplomacy was futile. She was too overwhelmed for anything other than bluntness. So she just went with that. "Stephen and I are not having an affair," she looked her superior directly in the eyes when she said that.
Dickson met her stare unblinkingly. After what seemed like an eternity he finally nodded. "Good, I believe you."
She let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you."
"But," he held up his index finger to admonish her, "you better watch your step from now on."
"So where do you want to meet up to talk shop?" Stephen's question was still echoing in her ears long after he had posed it.
"Hello?" he asked into the cellphone after he didn't get an answer straight away.
"Yeah, I'm still there," she answered distractedly. After what had happened at work today, she had trouble interacting with him like she usually did. Since everybody had been so ready to believe that her and Stephen were having an affair, she couldn't help but wonder whether it had been something she had said or done that might have helped the rumor gain credibility.
"Sorry, I have no idea. I'm new in town, remember?" she finally said. "Why don't you suggest something?"
"You want me to pick?" she heard him smirk over the line. "You know I actually like that..."
Perhaps in retrospect she shouldn't have let him do the picking. Because that was what had gotten her here in the first place. She was standing in front of one of the entrances of Stamford Park stepping from one foot to the other.
'A walk in the park' was at best a figure of speech she used, but she rarely took walks. She just wasn't the type. Usually walking was too slow for her. But if he wanted to meet her here, she would humor him. It did seem a nice enough place.
She spotted him long before he saw her. It was bordering on impossible not to, thanks to his seize and muscular build. As usual when off duty, he was wearing some dark slacks, a shirt whose sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and a flat cap. He sure did love his caps.
When he came to stop in front of her, it was impossible not to smile back at him. His smiles were infectious, especially that up close. "Hi!" he said simply, briefly giving her shoulder an affectionate squeeze.
"Hi," she responded, her smile fading from her face. The events of yesterday were still fresh on her mind and even despite her usual rather sunny and carefree disposition she found it hard to smile and pretend like nothing had happened.
"So, let's walk," she suggested somewhat stiffly. He nodded. They started walking, the gravel crunching rhythmically underneath their feet.
"You alright, luv?" he asked after only a few meters, his blue eyes regarding her pensively from underneath the brim of his hat.
She hesitated to answer. They worked together. He treated her as an equal and maybe on paper she was. But how much of an equal was she really, considering that his head graced a lot of those flashy promotional posters back at the office? She shook her head. If he hadn't already heard, there was no reason to get him involved in this mess. "Just a little squabble with a colleague. No biggie."
His eyes narrowed. He was not buying it, but he nodded nevertheless, accepting that that was all the information he was going to get out of her for now.
"So your idea...?" he suggested.
Upon his question a little of her usual rather energetic and talkative personality was sparked into life. He was relieved because he had come to appreciate those qualities of hers.
"With Extreme Rules coming, I've been thinking how about we bring vintage Sheamus back? A bit more temper, a bit more of that good old-fashioned ass kicking and taking names, a bit more fun."
"What precisely do you have in mind?"
"Well, the Shield is off-limits right now. They try to build them up as those invincible super heroes and there's no chance in hell the higher-ups are going to allow them to have their asses kicked. I was thinking chubby and strong. As in Mark Henry..." she clarified. Nina was looking at him, trying to guess his reaction before it showed on his face.
He smiled and motioned her to continue with a hand gesture.
"And I was also thinking we could create some mayhem backstage. What do you think about pulling some pranks?" There was a sparkle in his eye that told her that he rather liked her idea.
"Alone?" he asked.
She shook her head. "I think you'd do better with an accomplice. How about Mizanin? I'm sure he's up for it."
Stephen stopped walking to look at her. He was tugging at his earlobe with his right hand. It was probably some habit he had picked up. The express on his face was pensive. He finally nodded. "I like it."
On a normal day Nina would have punched the air with her fist in triumph, but today she limited herself to a forced smile and demure "good".
Stephen threw her an odd look, but she just shook her head. He already had his index finger raised and looked about ready to butt in, but she wouldn't let him. Before he was even able to comment on the fact that something about her behavior was slightly off, she started talking again. "I first wanted to run this idea by you before tried to pitch it to Dickson."
"Isn't it usually the other way around? Not that I'm particularly sorry you chose to do things the other way around..."
She just shrugged her shoulder. No joke, no smile, no nothing. She was like a cold fish.
He laid his hand on her shoulder. It was a reflex. Her eyes fell on his hand which still rested on her shoulder. From there they wandered up to his face and met his gaze with a mixture of irritation and annoyance.
"What?"
"You're acting weird. Is anything wrong? Can I do..."
"No," she interrupted him. He withdrew his hand from her shoulder and frowned. The expression on her face softened somewhat. He suddenly noticed how tired she looked. Tired and kind of sad. "There's nothing you can do, Steve, nothing at all." Was that dejection in her voice?
"Come on, spill!" he told her. There was something compelling about the way this big Irishman was standing in front of her, looking perfectly lamb-like while he regarded her with a pleading look in his eyes.
He could probably read her rather well now that she had given up pretending everything was okay, because he insisted a second time. "Nina..."
"Okay, okay," she finally relented, immediately regretting it. She was torn between telling him everything and trying to lie to him. But what if he would be confronted with those nasty rumors on the road? If she didn't tell him now, would he later hate her for it? Would her silence have any repercussion on their... Her thoughts came to creaking halt. What was this sentence going to finish like? Friendship? Work relationship? If she was honest with herself, she liked him far too much already to see him as just someone she worked with.
He indicated a little bench to their right which was one of many benches arranged around an idyllic large pond. They sat down. She stared at the water surface for a while, unsure how and where to start.
"Since Wrestlemania there's been a rumor going round the office about you and me," she threw him a cautious sidelong glance. Was that temper of his just scripted or was he really that much of a hothead?
"What's it say?" he asked. She focused on his face, so she didn't see his hands balling to fists at his sides.
"Well...," she chuckled and rubbed the back of her head, "Erm... It's not easy to put into words."
"Come on, luv, just spit it out already...," he said impatiently.
"Okay," cue nervous laughter. "It basically says...," she took a deep breath, then pressed out the whole message in what little time it took to release it. "Well, it says we were screwing like bunnies in the men's." By the time she had said those words she was beet-red thanks to her embarrassment. She couldn't even meet his eyes. Perhaps in hindsight that wasn't so bad after all.
She turned her head in astonishment when he shot up from his seat next to her and walked the few steps to where a steel railing surrounded the pond. Nina watched him with huge eyes as he stood there facing away from her. From her sitting position, all she could see was his tense back, rising and falling quickly. She got up and tentatively approached him. The knuckles of his hands were white because he was holding the railing in a vice-like grip. He was mumbling something underneath his breath. Was that Gaelic? She assumed whatever he was saying wasn't very nice.
"Hey," she said almost timidly. His eyes were furious and there was a slight reddish tint coloring his face. "Are you okay? Are you mad at me?"
He blew out a breath looking out on the pond for a couple of seconds before he leaned his weight on his arms and stared down at the pavement for a moment. "No," he pressed out. "Just fucking pissed off with whoever started that bloody rumor. Like I'm contemplating throwing that bloody bench into that bloody pond."
"Wow! Sure you're not going to Hulk out or anything?"
He turned his head regarding her through narrowed eyes for a second like he was trying to make sure she really had just said that. On the upside, his surprise let him forget some of his anger.
"No, I'm not going to Hulk out," he said.
"Good," she nodded and leaned against the railing next to him.
"What are we going to do about it?" he asked after a while, finally trusting in his ability again to get out actual words without resorting to growling and swearing every other second.
She grinned. That grin was rather bitter. It implied she had already given that particular question quite some thought and had come out of that thought process with a negative conclusion. "I appreciate you wanting to help me, honey, but seriously? I have to handle this myself. As sorry as I am to say this, but despite the fact that we live in a modern day and age, this is still a man's world. When a man sleeps with a woman, even just allegedly so, he gets a congratulatory pat on the back for it. A woman, however, who does the same thing is called a slut."
"So you're going to just roll over and take it?" he asked incredulously.
When she turned her head to look at him, there was a dangerous sparkle in her eyes. It was the first time he saw her angry and there was something mesmerizing about it.
"Roll over?" she scoffed. "Certainly not. I know who started this rumor and I have every intention of getting back at this person the one and only way I think will work. Every time we'll go into that conference room together and try to sell an idea to Dickson, I'll just try to be better, smarter and faster. Nothing hurts more than being upstaged by someone you despise and trust me, I won't play nice anymore. No more diplomacy, no more modesty, no more respect. I've learned my lesson. This is a tough business, so it's time the gloves come off."
She had not even stopped talking to take a breath. Her thoughts had tumbled out of her mouth in one angry, seamless tirade. Now her chest was rising and falling in rapid intervals.
Strangely enough by the time she was finished with her little speech, he had his own temper back under control. In fact he was calm enough to even dare smile at her.
Nina shot him a perplexed look.
"For a second there I was expecting you to beat your chest and roar fella. Sure you don't wanna tour Europe instead of me?" his mouth was set in a crooked smile.
She watched him, trying to figure out whether his comment was meant to insult her or tease her. As always it was his smile that won her over and convinced her of his good intentions.
"Oh, hell! Scoot over, you lug," she told him in a disgruntled voice and pointed at a family of ducks, gliding over the calm surface of the pond towards them, "I wanna have a closer look at them." She bumped the side of her hips against his to gently maneuver him out of the way. He complied with a smile and briefly took off his hat to run his hands through his messy hair. For a while they just stood there, watching the ducks paddle around in the water in front of them.
She turned her head and regarded his profile. It wasn't long before he noticed her watching. "What?" he asked.
"It's strange. I didn't think I would like you that much," she blurted out.
As often the case, her bluntness took him by surprise, nevertheless it wasn't an unpleasant surprise. "Well, you're quite alright yourself," he smirked.
"Oh, shut it, Farrelly! You completely adore me," she told him and turned around to lean with her back against the railing, bending back her head a little to allow the sunshine to fall on her face. She felt much better now that she had talked to him about it. Perhaps it hadn't been such a bad idea after all.
"Yeah, you got me there, luv," she heard him say and opened one eye to look at him with a raised eyebrow.
"You sure you can bury the hatchet and let me handle things my way?"
"It sort of undermines me whole Celtic Warrior image, but yeah... At least tell me this much, is it a him or a her?"
"Sorry, not gonna happen."
"Well," he shrugged, "it feels like it's a him. Anyway, if I found him out, I'd drag him up to the roof of the WWE, grab him by the leg and let him dangle over the edge..."
"Oooh, nice image! Splat!" she let out a dry chuckle. "The WWE has excellent lawyers, but I'm not sure you'd get away with it."
He made a harrumphing sound to acknowledge her words.
After that silence once more settled upon them. It was nice not having to talk for a while.
"As to your idea of me touring Europe instead of you... We could dye my hair red. I could try to fake your accent, but I guess, even despite all that, your fans would loathe me. I'd probably do okay with the mike work, but there's no chance in hell I'd be able to compete in a match. What was that gesture again you always make during your entrance? You beat your chest and yell 'fella'? Not gonna happen..."
He grinned and struck the pose minus the loud yell.
"Aha. I see," she said with a crooked grin on her face. "Nice."
"You're not going to try?" he look at her expectantly.
"Not a chance," she shook her head and laughed. "I can do a decent Randy Orton impression, though."
She winked at him and tried to channel her inner Apex Predator. Her face was all serious as she climbed the bench to strike Randy's trademark pose. She nailed it on the first try.
"You little shit!" he called out. "Admit it. You've practiced that at home."
She grinned a toothy grin at him. "Maybe..." She hopped down from the bench.
"Well, this is fun," Nina announced when she was standing right in front of him again. "Do you know any other poses? I could try to guess who they belong to..." She was back to being energetic and bouncy again, which made him smile.
The fact that she had somehow managed to reclaim her good mood was the reason why he chose to play along. He held up his index finger, telling her to wait as he stroked his beard pensively. "Alright, I've got one. I'll even go easy on you."
He grinned and stretched out his arms in an arrogant pose, then moved them up and down several times while coming closer with a maniacal grin on his face. He stopped a couple of feet from her.
"So?" Stephen asked expectantly.
"Kane?" she grinned, clearly pulling his leg.
"Me arse and Katty Barry! Me impression of him wasn't that bad!" he called out in indignation.
"What? Katy Perry?" she started laughing, clearly not getting what he had actually wanted to say. "What was that first part? Can you repeat that? It was kind of cute..."
"No," Stephen crossed his arms over his chest. "It means something like 'yeah sure'," he clarified, already slightly disgruntled because he didn't like being laughed at.
She pinched his cheek. "There, there, Stevie, don't get your knickers in a twist." During her time in London she had, among a constant craving for fish and chips, picked up the ability to fake a convincing British accent.
He swatted her hand away with an evil smile. "I told you not to call me that..."
"Tough. So what are you going to do now, huh?" She stuck out her chin and straightened her back to appear taller which was pretty useless considering he was at least towering her by one foot.
"Oh, I don't know," he inspected his fingernails. "What about this idea? I'm going to toss you in the pond...," he smiled at her before he stretched out his hands to reach for her.
She let out a high-pitched squeal and retreated. Of course he followed. They were both laughing, but froze in surprise when they heard the complaining voice of an elderly woman sitting a few benches away from them. "Will you kids behave yourselves? This is a public place and not some kind of fun house!" she berated them.
"Sorry, Ma'am," Stephen said and tapped the brim of his cap in a gesture of deference. It also helped that he had an Irish accent, which most people found positively delightful and was smiling a particularly charming smile at the old lady. Nina rolled her eyes.
Of course turning on his full charm had the desire effect. Her equally sincere "Sorry, Ma'am" was disregarded by the elderly woman who was busy smiling a dreamy smile at Stephen.
"That's quite alright, dear," she cooed.
Before the old lady decided to join the Celtic Warrior fan club and strike up a conversation with them, she started dragging him off by the sleeve of his shirt. "Come on, Casanova. Let's go."
"Casanova? I was just trying to keep you out of trouble," he complained.
"Keep me out of trouble? Between the two of us who is the troublemaker, buster? Me or you?"
"Do I actually have to answer that? Not gonna happen. You won't fool me a second time. This is one of your trick questions. I'm just going to pretend like I didn't hear it."
"Smart move, fella."
He chuckled when he heard her integrate one of his typical expressions in her vocabulary.
They started walking again, following a path that led them around the pond.
"It was del Rio, right?" she asked after a while.
He looked at her, his eyes hidden in the shadow of the brim of his hat. "Ha! I knew you'd be able to tell."
"Yeah," she smiled. There was a brief silence.
"Do you think the Miz is the right choice for our little prank war?" she asked suddenly. Conversations with her were often erratic, but also rather entertaining because you had to be on your toes.
He blinked, but that was just as much time as it took him to follow her line of thought. "I think he'd be offended if we didn't involve him. Speaking of pranks what did you have in mind?"
She grinned. "Not gonna tell you yet. I'll mail you my ideas when you're on the road. That way you can have a good laugh when you're stuck waiting for a plane or something..."
He nodded. They had rounded the pond and were walking towards the exit. Outside the gates they stopped. This was goodbye. She held out her hand to him. He looked down at it with a grin, his own hands stuffed in his pockets.
"Nah, but your mitts away," he smirked.
She shrugged her shoulders, unable to understand what he wanted. "Alright, so no handshake. Goodbye then! And good luck in Europe!" she told him sort of snappishly and waved her hand at him since he wouldn't shake it. "And kick some ass," added for good measure. Her sour tone belied the friendliness of her words.
Still all she got was a pointed look. "Are you serious, Nina?" He finally asked her.
"About what?" It was starting to dawn on her what he meant. He wanted a hug. She wanted to hug him as well. It would have been the most natural thing to do, but unfortunately, thanks to the happenings of the last couple of days, she still had some trouble acting naturally around him.
They continued to stand in front of each other. As seconds grew into a full minute, it dawned on her that he was about as stubborn as a mule if not as stubborn as a whole stable full of them.
"Are we friends?" he finally asked, apparently taking a leaf out of her book when it came to bluntness.
She looked at him for a long time. "Can we be?" she asked after a while.
"Is there anything that speaks against it?" he threw her a challenging look.
"Well... erm... I've already told you I like you..., but you see, it's just not a very good idea for us to be friends."
"It's not a good idea for us to be friends?" he echoed, unable to believe his own ears. "Why?"
"What about those rumors?" she pointed out. "I can't afford to lose my job and I don't want to give them any extra ammunition."
"So you're going to let others dictate the way you live your life?" Stephen asked.
Nina looked down at her feet for a while. She used that time to think their situation through. "No," she said finally, raising her head again to meet his gaze. "No, I just said it wasn't a good idea, not that it would actually hinder me from being your friend," she smiled. Adverse situations were usually something she thrived from.
He smiled back.
"At work they might be able to tell me what to do, but not in my free time. As long as I do what I'm paid for, they can't fire me. We can be friends, but let's not rub it in their faces," she told him.
"Why not?" he asked defiantly.
"Because they are like a punch of immature, hormone driven, gossiping fishmongers?" she supplied.
He rubbed his chin and grinned. "I guess you're right."
"Of course. I always am. You'd better get used to that," she quipped back. "Come on, let's walk over to our cars." She linked her arm through his and they started walking.
He smiled as they stopped in front of her little red Mini Cooper. If he had had to pick one car from the whole parking lot for her, it would have been that precise one.
"So how long are you going to be on tour?" she asked rummaging in her bag for her car keys.
He was leaning against her car, one arm on the roof, his fingers tapping a rhythm of their own against the metal as he watched her riffle through her belongings with an amused look on his face. "About a fortnight."
"A new place every other day?"
"Yeah."
"Sounds exhausting."
"It is."
"Hmmm," she looked up at him. "Get me a nice souvenir and, more importantly, let me know how you're doing once in a while. Okay, Steve?"
"Yes, ma'," he told her with a mock exasperate eye roll.
She finally produced her car keys from her bag and opened the door. Nina set one foot inside the car and used the door like a step to bridge their height difference. She slung her arms around his neck. For a moment he was surprised by her spontaneous gesture and the genuine warmth and affection her hug transported, then he hugged her back.
"Stay safe, okay?" she said as she let go off him.
He nodded. "You too," he said before he started walking away. His pace was slow, because quite surprisingly he was sort of reluctant to leave her.
"Hey Steve," he heard her call out and turned around.
Nina hit her chest with her fists and then spread her arms out at her sides. "Fellaaaa!" she called out, her voice resounding loudly over the parking lot. A couple of birds took flight from the nearby tree crowns while letting out croaks of protest.
He laughed. She smiled back at him and waved.
