Post by Deleted on Apr 5, 2015 17:53:02 GMT -6
Temptation is like a knife, that may either cut the meat or the throat of a man; it may be his food or his poison, his exercise or his destruction. -John Owen
My eyes burned as I woke up from my sleep. The crying, the pain, the anguish all balled inside of me like a brick, lodged in my stomach. I rub my eyes which brings a temporary relief, until I open them again. I look around my room, trying to regain my bearings, and making sure the night before was real. My phone on the bedside table was flashing lights with notifications. I’m sure the news had hit by now, and it was condolences. Condolences that I just didn’t have the heart to read just yet.
I glanced across the room, and noticed the two glasses I had poured the night before. I knew I was in temptations grasp, that it would take nothing to draw myself back into the lifestyle I chose just three years prior. That is why I poured those glasses. I knew if I could resist the urge, even in this trying time, where I was truly alone, I could overcome anything, including the onslaught of a man with far less grief on his plate.
I stood up, finally ready to face the truth. The notifications on my phone, 131 messages total, and a plethora of Tweets, and a handful of phone calls. I knew I had a lot on my plate. I had to set up services for Davey Dynamo, I had to still do my promotional work for NEW and I still had to find time to hit the gym and train for the biggest match of my life. The match that Davey Dynamo had been building me up to for the last month and a half. The match that Davey longed to be in the corner for.
I simply skimmed most of the messages as they all pretty much said the same thing. There were two that stood out though. The first from Dazielle Molaroni, offering her ear to anyone needing to talk. I admit, I had seen her before, and thought she was quite beautiful but knew that I could not, and would not act upon my primal urges.
The second, a simple message from Sarah. “We NEED to talk.” That statement never meant good. I took a deep breath, preparing for the worst, and dialed her number.
Sarah answered the phone immediately, “YOU SON OF A BITCH,” She yelled into the phone, and I knew this was not going to be good.
“I’m sorry?” I half asked, and half stated, trying to apologize before knowing what I had done.
“Don’t you start that shit already. I got the package from the plane ride, I don’t know why you sent it to me, maybe it was your cowardly way of ending things, well congrats.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, trying to remember the plane ride.
“The girl, sucking your dick. The GALLONS of alcohol you purchased, the prostitutes, the ridiculously expensive private suite. WE DON’T HAVE ENOUGH TO PAY THE MORTGAGE AND YOU ARE SPENDING LIKE A MAD MAN?”
“Baby, I didn’t spend any of that. Some anonymous man paid for all of it, I did nothing with that woman on the plane. I was asleep. You know how I sound when I get pleasured, hell, you heard it just two days ago.”
“I don’t want to hear your excuses. I’m just telling you not to bother coming home. The locks will be changed, and you will not be seeing your daughter,” and with that she hung up. I immediately tried to call her back, but she did not answer. Her phone went straight to voicemail.
I had to have left at least 10 voicemails before finally submitting to the fact she wasn’t calling me back. Who set this up? Who had videotaped a prostitute fellating me on the plane, and worse yet, who sent it to my wife? Or was it Ex Wife? I just didn’t know. I had mixed emotions. On one hand, I didn’t have to worry about her questioning my decision to get in the ring any more, and lecturing me every chance she got, which was becoming all the time lately, but at the same time, I know I’m going to miss my daughter. Little Haylee was the light of my life, and I can’t imagine what my life would be without her.
I looked at my phone, looking a little closer at all the messages. From an outsiders perspective, I had a ton of friends, but in reality, they all seem to come out only when tragedy strikes. I still had to figure out who this mysterious donor was, because I have to believe they were behind the Prostitute and the party in the hotel room. The party that sent Davey to his grave.
I walked across the room to the two glasses of alcohol. I looked long and hard at them, trying to process the last 24 hours. I am on my way to the biggest wrestling match of my life, all these upgrades, things looking up, and then I find my best friend dead, I lose my wife, and daughter, and here I sit, alone, unprepared, concerned. I wrap my hand around the shot of tequila, and pick it up. I pull it up towards my face, sniffing the glorious smell. I take in every sense of it I can, except taste. Then I throw the glass as hard as I can against the wall, sending it with a shatter.
I pulled out my phone, and immediately dialed Jesse Styles’ number, but Andy answered.
“Andy, it’s Austen Impact, is Jesse available?” I asked, really wishing to speak with Jesse, and not his dimwitted assistant.
“No, Jesse is working on some truck issues right now.” Andy replied, “How can I help?”
“Maybe you’ll know, a mysterious person ordered a bunch of upgrades for me for this week. I had assumed maybe it was Jesse, because the resources pointed towards NEW. A private jet, a high end suite, limo service. Was that Jesse? Was he just trying to make sure I was comfortable for my big match?”
“No, Jesse wouldn’t play favorites like that,” Andy said, with an air of uncertainty in his voice, knowing his boss. “Plus, I have been handling all accommodations. We received a call from the Hilton that you had not checked in to your room, and canceled it, figuring you had upgraded yourself.”
“I didn’t, I don’t have that kind of money. Could you do me a favor?”
“Well, normally I would say I’m too busy, even when I’m really not, but given that you just lost your best friend, I’ll make an exception.”
“See if you can track down any information from Chicago headquarters as to where this funding came from. It had to be an NEW jet. It was plush and looked like something Jesse would have.”
“I will, but I’m sure if NEW was behind it, I or Jesse would have known.”
“I know, but just check, please?” I pleaded with Andy.
“Of course.” He replied.
“Thanks Andy,” I replied. I hung up the phone, and instantly took to twitter. I needed some form of distraction. I saw the tweet again from Dazielle, and thought maybe a little conversation wouldn’t hurt.
We talked for quite a while on twitter, and I noticed that I was having a good time. My thoughts weren’t getting away from me. Finally I did something I never thought I’d do, I asked her to dinner.
What was I doing? Just mere hours ago, my wife told me she was leaving. I didn’t get a word in, I could be trying to save my relationship, but instead I’m going on a date with a beautiful woman. Maybe I was a bad husband. I was gone a lot with wrestling, maybe Sarah would be happier without me. I knew that deep down she wouldn’t. She loved me, and it hurt her to tell me she was leaving, but I wanted to believe that, so I could get wrapped up in something good. I needed positivity, I needed company, and support.
I rushed out of the hotel room, to the concierge.
“Hi, I need to know a good place to buy a suit.”
“The Clotherie is the best place to go, they have an AMAZING tailor, and the best suits in the state.”
Excellent, I hailed a cab, I didn’t want too much attention on myself, and rushed straight down to the fine suit store. It was a large space full of High end suits.
“Hi, how can I help you?” The personal shopper asked, walking up to me.
“Hi, I’m Austen Impact. I wrestle for New Edge Wrestling, and I need a suit by tonight for a date. It’s a first day, pretty casual, but I want to look good.”
The shopper looked me up and down and smiled, “It’s not gonna take much to make YOU look good hunny.”
I sheepishly grinned, not used to attention. I had always thought myself pretty plain, but clearly I am doing something right.
She took me to the back of the store, “This is where we have our best suits. These are for High end clients such as yourself. Clients that are in the public eye.”
I cringed at the thought, “What are we looking at for price?” I asked.
“These suits are walking advertisements. You wear them in public, take pictures in them, when asked, tell them you got them from here. You have eyes on you all the time. It’s a give take in a way. You get a great suit, we get customers. We both look damn good.”
I couldn’t deny that. She was very beautiful, but I couldn’t lose sight of the fact I was in here for clothes for a date.
She pulled out a handful of suits. I was instantly drawn to one suit in particular. It screamed casual. It was a tan suit, with a blue sweater vest underneath. I put it on, and it just screamed my name. The combination was perfect. She agreed.
We rushed over to the tailors shop in the back corner, and he fitted me, and within 45 minutes I had a perfectly fitting suit.
“Damn, he’s quick.” I stated.
“John is a magician,” She replied.
Now set, I took my suit back to the hotel, and started making phone calls, trying to set reservations for dinner, and lining up services for Davey.
My first call was to the hospital.
“Mayo Hospital Phoenix, Sherri speaking how may we help?” The operators voice was almost TOO friendly, it was a bit unnerving considering the nature of the call.
“Hi, I had a friend brought in last night, he died, and I was wondering if the autopsy was complete yet?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, yes, let me direct you to our medical examiner.”
“Thank you.” I replied.
“Medical Examiner, Dr. Hoffstrum’s office speaking.”
“Hi, my friend was brought in last night, he died, and I was wondering if his autopsy was complete?”
“Oh, and name?” The receptionist replied.
“Davey Dynamo.”
“Ah yes, let me patch you through to Dr. Hoffstrum.”
I waited, the calming Jazz hold music doing nothing to calm my nerves.
“Dr. Hoffstrum speaking,” The voice was pleasant, slightly accented, though I couldn’t place the origin.
“Hi, Doctor, I am calling in regards to the Davey Dynamo autopsy.”
“AH Yes. Interesting one that guy. COPD and yet he still was able to drink as much as he had before dying, not from the alcohol but simply because he lost oxygen. He basically suffocated.”
Suddenly the tone wasn’t so pleasant. He was painfully blunt with me, which I guess I appreciated, but still didn’t stop the sting.
“So how much did he drink? I asked.
“He was brought in, I immediately took a Vitreous Humour sample and he was at .12, which would be VERY dangerous levels by themselves, but strangely we also found cocaine, and ecstasy in his system, which also should have killed him, but didn’t.”
“So no matter what, even had the oxygen stayed intact, he would have likely died?” I asked.
“Hard to say, I mean he was still semi functional, so he may have made it through, but I don’t see how.”
“I have ideas how, thanks doctor.” I responded.
“No problem, sorry about your loss.”
I hung up the phone, and began calling around to local mortuaries to get Davey cremated. Finally finding someplace who would do it short notice, I can’t imagine planning a funeral for a specific date, but most of them seemed shocked that I was wanting it done right away.
Next I had a little plan I needed to hatch.
I dialed Jesse Styles number, and again got ahold of Andy.
“Andy speaking.”
“Andy, Austen, any news?”
“It was definitely NEW resources, but not funded by NEW directly. It seems someone offered some money to upgrade you using the NEW resources.”
“Hey Andy, one more favor if you could.”
“What is it?” He asked.
“Can you call Father Nathan and let him know the funeral time is 5 pm?” I asked
“But isn’t it 6 pm?” He asked confused.
“Exactly, let him know please.”
“Well, I guess you know what you’re doing?” Andy replied.
After placing calls all day, it was finally time to meet the beautiful Dazielle for dinner. I had set a reservation for a place called Fogo de Chao, a Brazilian steakhouse.
I walked down to the lobby, and got into my limo. We drove over to the Hilton where she was staying, to pick her up. She came walking through the lobby doors, looking stunning. She wore skin tight black capris with sexy high heels, and a very tight red strapless top, accenting her beautiful assets.
I open the limo door for her, and she seems a little shocked, I climb in the other side, sitting next to her.
“You look absolutely stunning,” I respond, not able to look at anything but her.
She gives me a shy “thank you,” and smiles, “You look good too.”
“Thanks.” I replied.
I stared at her long and hard, and inched closer.
We began talking about life, family, everything. We got to the restaurant, and unlike most girls I’ve been on dates with, she actually ate. It was wonderful. That is something that has always bothered me. I set a reservation and they buy a salad. I can throw lettuce on you for cheap. We definitely got our money’s worth. The night was better than I could have imagined, and we sealed it with a kiss. It was electric. I was sucked in, I could tell.
The next morning I got up early, and was treated with breakfast in bed, a good mix of delicious and nutritious. Sarah had brought it over, and in some sexy lingerie I might add. We crawled in bed together, eating, kissing, touching. At one point we got in a wrestling match over innocent poking. I let her win, and she straddled on top of me. That was the first of many times this week that it was going to happen. I knew it.
We made love for an hour, then took a shower together. Once the shower was over, we went to the mortuary, and picked up Davey’s urn. Then it was off to some small Autograph signings. That’s where I got the first big call.
“Austen?”
“Yes, Andy.”
“So I have some news. It seems the money was transferred from a computer in Phoenix to an NEW staffer. Mr. Styles already knows about it, and is getting to the bottom of things. Also Father Nathan informed me that he has something special to say at the funeral.”
“Perfect. I figured he would.”
I spent all day signing autographs. Dazielle by my side, rubbing my shoulders, and supporting me. I hadn’t thought about my, I guess you could call her my ex wife, once. The fans were amazing. Posing for pictures, and signing autographs. I got a few gifts for condolences, and it was really sweet. One little girl gave me a hug, not even asking for an autograph, she just wanted to make me feel better. It did. I gave her my hat, with an autograph, and took a picture anyway. It was the least I could do since she waited 2 hours just to give me a hug.
Finally, the long day was over. Dazielle and I retired back to the hotel room. We cuddled, watching a movie, and Dazielle got a crazy idea.
“Lets go for ice cream.”
“I like the way you think,” I replied.
We walked for what seemed like an hour, laughing, and kissing, playing. It was an amazing experience.
The next morning was the big promotional day. What was supposed to be myself and Sasha Foote at a car show turned into a full NEW promo. We all sat for 6 hours, signing autographs, greeting fans, but shockingly, Father Nathan was no where to be seen. I looked around, to shake his hand and thank him for the condolences, and wish him luck.
When the promotion was over, everyone ushered over to the Funeral home to pay some respects for Davey, and then meet for a party afterwards. I got there early, I saw Father Nathan walk out, and start speaking. The space was not the room that Davey’s service was supposed to be in, but a few well placed friends really sold it. Nathan walked out and spoke a big long service over someone else’s coffin.
As soon as he walked off, I walked over there, and apologized to the family.
“I’m so sorry for that guy. As a representative of New Edge Wrestling, it is not our practice to attend random funerals, and videotape promotional conversations in an attempt to speak about their competition. That is an absolutely terrible and horrendous act, and I apologize so much. I wish all the best here.”
We walked into Davey’s room, where it was filled with NEW staff and roster. I held his Urn, and smiled.
“I am truly thankful that you guys turned out today for Davey’s memorial service. After this we are all going out to Rock Pub here in Phoenix and Sick of it All will be playing. Drinks and music, two of Davey’s favorite things. That, and this company. He always hated Jesse, but deep down, everyone knows he respected Jesse, and loved this company more than he did himself. Jesse, we know you cared for him too,” and Jesse nodded to Austen in agreement. “Many of you worked with him, many of you fought against him. I just want to say thank you.”
Everybody clapped, and the priest gave a rousing service. Then everyone retired to Rock pub for a party.
Everybody danced and drank all night, having a great time. I partied with Dazielle again, and everything was awesome. We danced, we had sodas, and we partied all night. It was perfect. I’d not thought about Sarah once, and for once I didn’t feel bad about it. The temptations of settling for comfort were no longer there. I had a sexy woman, who was fun to have around. The only thing missing was the title belt which was bound to be mine come Demented.
My eyes burned as I woke up from my sleep. The crying, the pain, the anguish all balled inside of me like a brick, lodged in my stomach. I rub my eyes which brings a temporary relief, until I open them again. I look around my room, trying to regain my bearings, and making sure the night before was real. My phone on the bedside table was flashing lights with notifications. I’m sure the news had hit by now, and it was condolences. Condolences that I just didn’t have the heart to read just yet.
I glanced across the room, and noticed the two glasses I had poured the night before. I knew I was in temptations grasp, that it would take nothing to draw myself back into the lifestyle I chose just three years prior. That is why I poured those glasses. I knew if I could resist the urge, even in this trying time, where I was truly alone, I could overcome anything, including the onslaught of a man with far less grief on his plate.
I stood up, finally ready to face the truth. The notifications on my phone, 131 messages total, and a plethora of Tweets, and a handful of phone calls. I knew I had a lot on my plate. I had to set up services for Davey Dynamo, I had to still do my promotional work for NEW and I still had to find time to hit the gym and train for the biggest match of my life. The match that Davey Dynamo had been building me up to for the last month and a half. The match that Davey longed to be in the corner for.
I simply skimmed most of the messages as they all pretty much said the same thing. There were two that stood out though. The first from Dazielle Molaroni, offering her ear to anyone needing to talk. I admit, I had seen her before, and thought she was quite beautiful but knew that I could not, and would not act upon my primal urges.
The second, a simple message from Sarah. “We NEED to talk.” That statement never meant good. I took a deep breath, preparing for the worst, and dialed her number.
Sarah answered the phone immediately, “YOU SON OF A BITCH,” She yelled into the phone, and I knew this was not going to be good.
“I’m sorry?” I half asked, and half stated, trying to apologize before knowing what I had done.
“Don’t you start that shit already. I got the package from the plane ride, I don’t know why you sent it to me, maybe it was your cowardly way of ending things, well congrats.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, trying to remember the plane ride.
“The girl, sucking your dick. The GALLONS of alcohol you purchased, the prostitutes, the ridiculously expensive private suite. WE DON’T HAVE ENOUGH TO PAY THE MORTGAGE AND YOU ARE SPENDING LIKE A MAD MAN?”
“Baby, I didn’t spend any of that. Some anonymous man paid for all of it, I did nothing with that woman on the plane. I was asleep. You know how I sound when I get pleasured, hell, you heard it just two days ago.”
“I don’t want to hear your excuses. I’m just telling you not to bother coming home. The locks will be changed, and you will not be seeing your daughter,” and with that she hung up. I immediately tried to call her back, but she did not answer. Her phone went straight to voicemail.
I had to have left at least 10 voicemails before finally submitting to the fact she wasn’t calling me back. Who set this up? Who had videotaped a prostitute fellating me on the plane, and worse yet, who sent it to my wife? Or was it Ex Wife? I just didn’t know. I had mixed emotions. On one hand, I didn’t have to worry about her questioning my decision to get in the ring any more, and lecturing me every chance she got, which was becoming all the time lately, but at the same time, I know I’m going to miss my daughter. Little Haylee was the light of my life, and I can’t imagine what my life would be without her.
I looked at my phone, looking a little closer at all the messages. From an outsiders perspective, I had a ton of friends, but in reality, they all seem to come out only when tragedy strikes. I still had to figure out who this mysterious donor was, because I have to believe they were behind the Prostitute and the party in the hotel room. The party that sent Davey to his grave.
I walked across the room to the two glasses of alcohol. I looked long and hard at them, trying to process the last 24 hours. I am on my way to the biggest wrestling match of my life, all these upgrades, things looking up, and then I find my best friend dead, I lose my wife, and daughter, and here I sit, alone, unprepared, concerned. I wrap my hand around the shot of tequila, and pick it up. I pull it up towards my face, sniffing the glorious smell. I take in every sense of it I can, except taste. Then I throw the glass as hard as I can against the wall, sending it with a shatter.
I pulled out my phone, and immediately dialed Jesse Styles’ number, but Andy answered.
“Andy, it’s Austen Impact, is Jesse available?” I asked, really wishing to speak with Jesse, and not his dimwitted assistant.
“No, Jesse is working on some truck issues right now.” Andy replied, “How can I help?”
“Maybe you’ll know, a mysterious person ordered a bunch of upgrades for me for this week. I had assumed maybe it was Jesse, because the resources pointed towards NEW. A private jet, a high end suite, limo service. Was that Jesse? Was he just trying to make sure I was comfortable for my big match?”
“No, Jesse wouldn’t play favorites like that,” Andy said, with an air of uncertainty in his voice, knowing his boss. “Plus, I have been handling all accommodations. We received a call from the Hilton that you had not checked in to your room, and canceled it, figuring you had upgraded yourself.”
“I didn’t, I don’t have that kind of money. Could you do me a favor?”
“Well, normally I would say I’m too busy, even when I’m really not, but given that you just lost your best friend, I’ll make an exception.”
“See if you can track down any information from Chicago headquarters as to where this funding came from. It had to be an NEW jet. It was plush and looked like something Jesse would have.”
“I will, but I’m sure if NEW was behind it, I or Jesse would have known.”
“I know, but just check, please?” I pleaded with Andy.
“Of course.” He replied.
“Thanks Andy,” I replied. I hung up the phone, and instantly took to twitter. I needed some form of distraction. I saw the tweet again from Dazielle, and thought maybe a little conversation wouldn’t hurt.
We talked for quite a while on twitter, and I noticed that I was having a good time. My thoughts weren’t getting away from me. Finally I did something I never thought I’d do, I asked her to dinner.
What was I doing? Just mere hours ago, my wife told me she was leaving. I didn’t get a word in, I could be trying to save my relationship, but instead I’m going on a date with a beautiful woman. Maybe I was a bad husband. I was gone a lot with wrestling, maybe Sarah would be happier without me. I knew that deep down she wouldn’t. She loved me, and it hurt her to tell me she was leaving, but I wanted to believe that, so I could get wrapped up in something good. I needed positivity, I needed company, and support.
I rushed out of the hotel room, to the concierge.
“Hi, I need to know a good place to buy a suit.”
“The Clotherie is the best place to go, they have an AMAZING tailor, and the best suits in the state.”
Excellent, I hailed a cab, I didn’t want too much attention on myself, and rushed straight down to the fine suit store. It was a large space full of High end suits.
“Hi, how can I help you?” The personal shopper asked, walking up to me.
“Hi, I’m Austen Impact. I wrestle for New Edge Wrestling, and I need a suit by tonight for a date. It’s a first day, pretty casual, but I want to look good.”
The shopper looked me up and down and smiled, “It’s not gonna take much to make YOU look good hunny.”
I sheepishly grinned, not used to attention. I had always thought myself pretty plain, but clearly I am doing something right.
She took me to the back of the store, “This is where we have our best suits. These are for High end clients such as yourself. Clients that are in the public eye.”
I cringed at the thought, “What are we looking at for price?” I asked.
“These suits are walking advertisements. You wear them in public, take pictures in them, when asked, tell them you got them from here. You have eyes on you all the time. It’s a give take in a way. You get a great suit, we get customers. We both look damn good.”
I couldn’t deny that. She was very beautiful, but I couldn’t lose sight of the fact I was in here for clothes for a date.
She pulled out a handful of suits. I was instantly drawn to one suit in particular. It screamed casual. It was a tan suit, with a blue sweater vest underneath. I put it on, and it just screamed my name. The combination was perfect. She agreed.
We rushed over to the tailors shop in the back corner, and he fitted me, and within 45 minutes I had a perfectly fitting suit.
“Damn, he’s quick.” I stated.
“John is a magician,” She replied.
Now set, I took my suit back to the hotel, and started making phone calls, trying to set reservations for dinner, and lining up services for Davey.
My first call was to the hospital.
“Mayo Hospital Phoenix, Sherri speaking how may we help?” The operators voice was almost TOO friendly, it was a bit unnerving considering the nature of the call.
“Hi, I had a friend brought in last night, he died, and I was wondering if the autopsy was complete yet?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, yes, let me direct you to our medical examiner.”
“Thank you.” I replied.
“Medical Examiner, Dr. Hoffstrum’s office speaking.”
“Hi, my friend was brought in last night, he died, and I was wondering if his autopsy was complete?”
“Oh, and name?” The receptionist replied.
“Davey Dynamo.”
“Ah yes, let me patch you through to Dr. Hoffstrum.”
I waited, the calming Jazz hold music doing nothing to calm my nerves.
“Dr. Hoffstrum speaking,” The voice was pleasant, slightly accented, though I couldn’t place the origin.
“Hi, Doctor, I am calling in regards to the Davey Dynamo autopsy.”
“AH Yes. Interesting one that guy. COPD and yet he still was able to drink as much as he had before dying, not from the alcohol but simply because he lost oxygen. He basically suffocated.”
Suddenly the tone wasn’t so pleasant. He was painfully blunt with me, which I guess I appreciated, but still didn’t stop the sting.
“So how much did he drink? I asked.
“He was brought in, I immediately took a Vitreous Humour sample and he was at .12, which would be VERY dangerous levels by themselves, but strangely we also found cocaine, and ecstasy in his system, which also should have killed him, but didn’t.”
“So no matter what, even had the oxygen stayed intact, he would have likely died?” I asked.
“Hard to say, I mean he was still semi functional, so he may have made it through, but I don’t see how.”
“I have ideas how, thanks doctor.” I responded.
“No problem, sorry about your loss.”
I hung up the phone, and began calling around to local mortuaries to get Davey cremated. Finally finding someplace who would do it short notice, I can’t imagine planning a funeral for a specific date, but most of them seemed shocked that I was wanting it done right away.
Next I had a little plan I needed to hatch.
I dialed Jesse Styles number, and again got ahold of Andy.
“Andy speaking.”
“Andy, Austen, any news?”
“It was definitely NEW resources, but not funded by NEW directly. It seems someone offered some money to upgrade you using the NEW resources.”
“Hey Andy, one more favor if you could.”
“What is it?” He asked.
“Can you call Father Nathan and let him know the funeral time is 5 pm?” I asked
“But isn’t it 6 pm?” He asked confused.
“Exactly, let him know please.”
“Well, I guess you know what you’re doing?” Andy replied.
After placing calls all day, it was finally time to meet the beautiful Dazielle for dinner. I had set a reservation for a place called Fogo de Chao, a Brazilian steakhouse.
I walked down to the lobby, and got into my limo. We drove over to the Hilton where she was staying, to pick her up. She came walking through the lobby doors, looking stunning. She wore skin tight black capris with sexy high heels, and a very tight red strapless top, accenting her beautiful assets.
I open the limo door for her, and she seems a little shocked, I climb in the other side, sitting next to her.
“You look absolutely stunning,” I respond, not able to look at anything but her.
She gives me a shy “thank you,” and smiles, “You look good too.”
“Thanks.” I replied.
I stared at her long and hard, and inched closer.
We began talking about life, family, everything. We got to the restaurant, and unlike most girls I’ve been on dates with, she actually ate. It was wonderful. That is something that has always bothered me. I set a reservation and they buy a salad. I can throw lettuce on you for cheap. We definitely got our money’s worth. The night was better than I could have imagined, and we sealed it with a kiss. It was electric. I was sucked in, I could tell.
The next morning I got up early, and was treated with breakfast in bed, a good mix of delicious and nutritious. Sarah had brought it over, and in some sexy lingerie I might add. We crawled in bed together, eating, kissing, touching. At one point we got in a wrestling match over innocent poking. I let her win, and she straddled on top of me. That was the first of many times this week that it was going to happen. I knew it.
We made love for an hour, then took a shower together. Once the shower was over, we went to the mortuary, and picked up Davey’s urn. Then it was off to some small Autograph signings. That’s where I got the first big call.
“Austen?”
“Yes, Andy.”
“So I have some news. It seems the money was transferred from a computer in Phoenix to an NEW staffer. Mr. Styles already knows about it, and is getting to the bottom of things. Also Father Nathan informed me that he has something special to say at the funeral.”
“Perfect. I figured he would.”
I spent all day signing autographs. Dazielle by my side, rubbing my shoulders, and supporting me. I hadn’t thought about my, I guess you could call her my ex wife, once. The fans were amazing. Posing for pictures, and signing autographs. I got a few gifts for condolences, and it was really sweet. One little girl gave me a hug, not even asking for an autograph, she just wanted to make me feel better. It did. I gave her my hat, with an autograph, and took a picture anyway. It was the least I could do since she waited 2 hours just to give me a hug.
Finally, the long day was over. Dazielle and I retired back to the hotel room. We cuddled, watching a movie, and Dazielle got a crazy idea.
“Lets go for ice cream.”
“I like the way you think,” I replied.
We walked for what seemed like an hour, laughing, and kissing, playing. It was an amazing experience.
The next morning was the big promotional day. What was supposed to be myself and Sasha Foote at a car show turned into a full NEW promo. We all sat for 6 hours, signing autographs, greeting fans, but shockingly, Father Nathan was no where to be seen. I looked around, to shake his hand and thank him for the condolences, and wish him luck.
When the promotion was over, everyone ushered over to the Funeral home to pay some respects for Davey, and then meet for a party afterwards. I got there early, I saw Father Nathan walk out, and start speaking. The space was not the room that Davey’s service was supposed to be in, but a few well placed friends really sold it. Nathan walked out and spoke a big long service over someone else’s coffin.
As soon as he walked off, I walked over there, and apologized to the family.
“I’m so sorry for that guy. As a representative of New Edge Wrestling, it is not our practice to attend random funerals, and videotape promotional conversations in an attempt to speak about their competition. That is an absolutely terrible and horrendous act, and I apologize so much. I wish all the best here.”
We walked into Davey’s room, where it was filled with NEW staff and roster. I held his Urn, and smiled.
“I am truly thankful that you guys turned out today for Davey’s memorial service. After this we are all going out to Rock Pub here in Phoenix and Sick of it All will be playing. Drinks and music, two of Davey’s favorite things. That, and this company. He always hated Jesse, but deep down, everyone knows he respected Jesse, and loved this company more than he did himself. Jesse, we know you cared for him too,” and Jesse nodded to Austen in agreement. “Many of you worked with him, many of you fought against him. I just want to say thank you.”
Everybody clapped, and the priest gave a rousing service. Then everyone retired to Rock pub for a party.
Everybody danced and drank all night, having a great time. I partied with Dazielle again, and everything was awesome. We danced, we had sodas, and we partied all night. It was perfect. I’d not thought about Sarah once, and for once I didn’t feel bad about it. The temptations of settling for comfort were no longer there. I had a sexy woman, who was fun to have around. The only thing missing was the title belt which was bound to be mine come Demented.
