I sat in the catering room with Maria as she went over some sketch designs for an outfit she wanted.
"Maria, I'm not exactly a tailor or anything," I said. I didn't know how I was going to make this. It was so elaborate. Did she really need this whole ensemble just so she could lose in the ring?
I don't think so.
"Oh, no, I have someone who can make it, I just need to know if it…you know, meshes well together."
"Maria, you do know that there is such a thing as too much leopard print, right?" I asked, noting that her entire outfit was fashioned from leopard print material.
"But it's my fave!" she squealed, taking a pencil and adding more of the animal print to the outfit. "So, uh…Can we have girl talk time?"
Girl talk time? "I don't think I've had that since I was like fifteen," I said. Talking about stuff with Maria Kanellis was not exactly high on my priority list.
"Then you're long overdue!" she said, pushing her sketching aside.
"I like to think of it more along the lines of me not needing it or requiring it…"
"Psh, come on, Miranda!" she whined.
"Fine, but if this turns into gossip time, I'm going to go meet Melina early," I stated. I don't want to spend more time with Maria than I have to.
"So…What's going on with you and Brian Kendrick?" she asked, resting her elbows on the table and her chin on her hands. I could feel her swinging her long legs back and forth under the table. She was really into this stuff, wasn't she?
"There's nothing going on," I said, and it was the truth. We're merely friends…I think.
"Oh, come on. Earlier when he asked me for water, he called me by the wrong name," she revealed, her eyes bugging out. "Like, seriously, who forgets my name?"
"What did he call you?" I asked, getting curious. I know I was there when it happened, but I was too transfixed by him. He could have said that Maria was the ugliest bitch in the world and it still wouldn't have registered with me.
"He called me…Well, he called me Miranda."
I almost dropped my bottled water. "Miranda? As in…me?"
"I would assume so. It's not exactly a common name. It had to have been you unless he has some sick obsession with Sex and the City."
If he watched that show, I might have to make sure he isn't secretly banging Ezekiel. "I'm sure it was just a mistake."
"I don't think it was," Maria shrugged. "But, I slapped him for three reasons. One, he got my name wrong. Two, he shouldn't demand that women bring him his refreshments. And three, he out of everyone has no right to call any woman a dog. I mean, have you seen him?"
I slammed my fists on the table. "How dare you say anything about Brian like that! Maybe you should take a look in the mirror before you start insulting anybody else's looks." I got up and headed for the door, but turned around halfway there. I had one more thing to say. "Oh, and if you show up to my office with another leopard print outfit, I will not be approving it. You'll be matching the Bella Twins. Got it?"
"Ugh, that seething little cuntbag!"
Whoa! Whoever that is, I like their style.
Oh, it was Miranda. She left the cafeteria in a major huff. Something must be bothering her. Oh well. I'm too relaxed to do anything about it. Ezekiel and I are perched against the wall, smoking some of the finest herb I could lay my hands on in this dismal town. And yes, we are doing it right out in the open. It's not like the WWE minds. Every time they fine me, I just pay it so I can keep doing it. They just want their money, and I just want to smoke. It's a win-win situation for both parties.
"Insulting Brian…What the fuck is she on?" Miranda muttered to herself. It seems that I may be part of this little shindig. Let's find out, shall we?
"Who is insulting me?" I asked, taking a long drag.
Miranda jumped. I don't think she knew that I was there. "Maria," she said, staring at the little novelty in my hand.
"What did she say?"
"That you're a dog."
"Ah, straight from the horse's mouth," I sighed, raising my eyebrows.
Miranda looked a little flustered. "Are you saying that you…"
"Please, Miranda, even you know that I would not waste my time on tricks like her."
"I defended you," she said.
Oh, like that's supposed to make me like her? Please. "Am I supposed to get on my knees and thank you? I don't know about the thanking part, but I'm pretty sure the part about being on the knees is your gig, not mine."