A/N: Hey there, I hope this story will turn out pretty much as good as my other story on this account. I hope you like it, I don't know if many folk will read it but I'll post it none-the-less. Enjoy it
Rating: Rated M for Language, Insinuations and Adult Situations
Writing: Italics - Thoughts, Bold Italics - In-Ring/Promo
Title Character: Preston Anna Carmichael - aged 23. Born and raised in Atlanta, Georgia. Is the niece of WWE owner Vince McMahon. Gets on very well with Stephanie, Shane, Linda, Paul etc. Has a tumultuous relationship with Vince. He doesn't seem to get on well with her at all, more like tolerates her because she's his blood. Is extremely good friends with Randy Orton, John Cena and Chris Jericho
Disclaimer:I am aware that Vince McMahon is an only child but for the purpose of this story, we'll assume he has a brother. I do not own anything to do with the WWE and I also do not maintain that I have the knowledge of any of the wrestlers personal lives and views and relationships portrayed in this fic are mainly for that one purpose: The Story. Thank You!
I groaned aloud, shifting uncomfortably in the hard plastic airport chair. I was already in doubt as to why I was even sitting here. We were in New York City for a show at Madison Square Garden and I was put on airport duty to pick up some chick, Paula or something, not that I really care that much.
The sound of my phone ringing in my pocket snapped me out of my daze and I reached into to grasp it. The iPhone vibrated in my hand and I pulled the hat down over my face further as I answered the call.
"'Sup?" not even checking the I.D.
"Where are ya man? What the hell is taking so long to pick her up?" Paul Levesque's voice came from the other side of the line. I groaned.
"Damn, well, let me guess, maybe 'cause her flight hasn't landed yet. Yep that sounds just about right".
"Don't get smart man. Just phone me when you're on your way. And be nice".
"Bye Hunter" I said addressing him by his stage name which we virtually all call him anyway.
I stood up, stretching my stiff muscles, tugging the bottom hem of my checked grey, black and white shirt down, the waistcoat following it. I'd chosen to revert back and wear a grey fedora which I used to wear to the ring, to try and keep prying eyes off of me. Not that I'm not a big supporter of my fans or anything, I just really wasn't in the mood today. I didn't even want to be here.
I walked gingerly over to the monitors with all the flight numbers on them. I slipped a bit of paper out of the pocket of my jeans and glanced at it, clocking the flight number before checking the screens.
FLIGHT AA 109 - ATLANTA, GA - JFK, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK - LANDED
Where the hell is she then?
I stepped off the plane, thanking the cabin crew and pilots for a pleasant flight before picking up my duffel bag and swinging it over my shoulder. I sighed and walked up the tunnel, heading into the terminal building. I hoped Hunter was here to pick me up, I hadn't seen him or the kids in ages. I missed Aurora and Murphy a lot. I'd only seen Murphy once since she was born. Vince didn't really like having me around that much. How much of surprise is not going home at all going to be? Can't wait to see his face.
I walked over to the seats just inside the terminal and dumped my bag on top of it. I stood and fixed my plain blue jeans, black turtleneck, making sure my black ballet flats were on properly before I picked up the heavy bag again. I lifted my coat and then followed the rest of the passengers towards the arrivals lounge.
Stepping in, I saw all the families, happy to see a relative, either returning or visiting them. There were so many of them that I struggled to see anyone. I kept walking till I was beyond the barriers and I spotted drivers holding up name cards. I checked them all to see if one had my name on it but none did. I huffed and dumped my bag down, straining through my small black rimmed glasses. My messy dark blond hair was pulled back into an unkempt bun to keep it tidy for the flight.
I looked around as the arrivals started clearing out while people headed to baggage claim.
I could have headed down their before but I eager to see who was at the airport. By now I know its certainly not Hunter, Steph or anyone else I know.
I sighed and glanced across the terminal. And it was then that I spotted the sign and frowned. I narrowed my eyes, looking closer and then lifted my bag up and walked towards some seats on the far side of arrivals.
I dropped my bag down in front of the person, flopped in the chair, holding a white piece of cardboard over their face. His legs were resting straight out in front of him, one hand on his thigh, the other holding the sign in a lazy form. I sighed.
"Its actually Carmichael". The sign flopped down and he looked up at me, squinting to see me. I recognised him immediately and I hoped he was nothing like I expected.
"Where the hell have you been? What took you so bloody long to come off of that goddamn flight? And where the fuck is your luggage? Do you even bloody have any? Do you know how fucking long I've been sitting here?" he replied once he realised who I was.
"Wow, you swear an awful lot. I didn't know you could swear that much in one mouthful. My luggage is probably dancing around the conveyor belt down in baggage reclaim. Sorry to disappoint you, but my flight was delayed and I half expected Hunter to be here. And no, I have no idea how long you've been sitting here, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't speak to me like that" I spoke calmly to him, not liking his attitude, proving he was just as arrogant and obnoxious as his character "Ever again!!" I added to be clear. He looked up me blinking from beneath his fedora hat; which I have to admit he kind of suited and it kind of looked cute, but I'm getting off track here, anyway, he looked at me from beneath the hat, his mouth flicking into a smirk before a frown followed.
"And I'd appreciate it, if I didn't have to waste my time around a damn airport, waiting on Miss-Fucking-Heiress coming off her plane in her own blasted time. Can we just move it to baggage, I've got a match tonight, I need to be ready for".
"Yes Sir" I said saluting him before reaching for my bag. He reached down as well "I've got it" I replied, refusing to let him take it, not matter how heavy "The Heiress as you so kindly put it, doesn't need any help from you" I walked ahead, following the signs to baggage reclaim without waiting on him. I heard him following me, muttering something about girls and PMT under his breath "And for your information, my name is Preston Carmichael, not The Heiress".
I made it to baggage claim, watching the belt for my luggage. The two cases were in the last few that were left on the belt. I pointed them out and went to get them but he held his arm in front of me "I got it" he spoke softly, and I wondered if I'd hit a sore spot with what I said.
He heaved the cases off with ease, pulling the handles up and beginning to drag them. He walked right by me, not waiting and called over his shoulder "You alright there Heiress? Sure you can handle that heavy bag?"
What a fucking prick! I knew it was too goddamn good to be true.
"Heiress? Nothing could be further from the truth" I mumbled under my breath. I sighed and followed him with the luggage
I caught up to him quickly, falling into stride next to him.
"So tell me about you?" he asked, his voice back to the soft tone he'd used at baggage reclaim.
"Why? Why do you want to know? One minute you're biting my head off, the next you want to be nice?"
"What can I say? I'm bi-polar".
"Did you really just say that? Really? Really?" I asked putting effect into it. He stopped and frowned at me and I just raised my eyebrows, giving him a look before he continued on, huffing and puffing again. I smiled behind his back and made a face as I followed him to his car.
He put the luggage in the car, while I waited patiently at the passenger door. He unlocked it and I opened the door to get in when I spotted a piece of paper, flapping in the small breeze underneath the windshield wiper.
"Oh Michael, you've got a parking ticket" I called, smirking as I got in the car. I could hear him cursing from inside the car. He slammed the boot and walked around to the front of the car, grabbed the ticket, got in the car and slammed the door. He opened the glove compartment and shoved it inside.
"You can pay for it. Its your fault I got it. If you had moved your ass off the plane quicker then I wouldn't have gotten that....And my name is Mike, not Michael"
"I couldn't have gotten off any faster, we only landed 10 minutes before I got off" I replied totally disreguarding the part about his name.
"Well, that's not good enough!".
"What the hell was I supposed to do, jump out with my fucking invisible parachute that I just so happen to keep in my back pocket?"
"Ummm....yes" he snapped.
"Right. Do I have to repeat your catchphrase again. Dude, you say the strangest things. Just take me wherever we're going; hotel, arena, hell, they're all the same but make a choice and take me there and then we can get out of one another's hair".
"Whatever" he mumbled and started the car, pulling it away and driving it wherever we were headed which I later found out was the arena.
I sighed and got out of the car, looking up at Madison Square Garden Arena. I twitched my lips and grabbed my duffel out of the boot. Mike got my two cases and I swung my bag over my shoulder and followed him inside after he'd locked the car. He talked to security and they gave me a backstage pass so I wouldn't be bothered for the rest of the night before he led me into the back, through all the corridors. I almost got lost on the way, following closely behind him. He stopped outside a door and knocked, sitting the cases upright.
"I'm sure you'll be good from here. Later" he said before walking away. The door opened two minutes later and I turned to see a very red faced Paul. His anger faded as he saw me and he pulled me into a hug, letting me drop my bag on the floor first of course. He held me tightly, laughing in my ear and telling me it was good to see me.
I pulled back and then punched him feebly in the arm "Why the hell did you send The Miz to pick me up? What's wrong with him? He's so angry all the time."
"He's a good guy. You get used to him. It's first impressions and all that. Come inside"
END OF CHAPTER
A/N 2:I hope you liked it. Its going to be slow as I still posting other stuff but I'll try and update as quick as I can. Review please and thank you! XxX