Negotiations

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Ashlee
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Negotiations

Post by Ashlee »

Wednesday, November 23, 2022
Las Vegas, Nevada
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The Magnolia Chapel inside of the Chapel of Flowers was modern and chic. It looked like a 5-star resort, and Wes had been in enough of those to make the comparison. Someone had already delivered him a glass of champagne, as he sat, dressed in dark wash jeans with a fitted hunger green button down dress shirt. He heard hushed giggles, and the clacking of high heels behind him. Wes turned his head to see his sister heading toward him. Nicole Orton was dressed in a classic green sheath dress. She was the picture of Old Hollywood Glam in her nude, red bottom Louboutins. Her 8-year old daughter, Karlee, was the one stifling a giggle as she giddily took in the room. Karlee had long legs that some might have described as awkward for her age, a dimple in her left cheek that deepens when she smiled, and a right eyebrow that was permanently cocked just slightly asymmetrical to her left, and arched higher anytime she sensed that something was absolute bullshit. Of course, all traits from her father, otherwise, she looked just like her mother. Walking between Nicole and Karlee was Teagan Helms, the 14-year old daughter of Trish Stratus and Shane Helms. She spent a lot of her time in North Carolina, where her dad had chosen to live after he’d retired from wrestling. She saw her mother weekly, more often depending on Trish’s work schedule. As she had gotten older, she’d spent even more time in St. Louis, with her mom and Adam, growing up around the Ikedas and Ortons, and being welcomed into the little family that Wes and Natalie had chosen for themselves.

Karlee plopped down next to her Uncle Wes. He complimented her dress as Nicole sat down on the other side of Karlee and Teagan took a seat on the aisle.

Wes Ikeda: Did Nat make it back okay?

Nicole Orton: Yes, with the perfect shade of nude Revlon Super Stay Matte Lipstick.

Karlee Orton: Auntie Tee looks amazing!

Teagan nodded in agreement, and cracked a smile as a side door opened at the front of the room. Adam Copeland entered with Randy Orton following behind. Karlee waved, and Randy winked at her. Both men were dressed similarly to Wes, in jeans, and well fitting button down dress shirts. Adam’s was a dark red rust color and Randy’s a crisp black. A man dressed in a suit came up the center aisle and met Adam and Randy there, speaking to them briefly. A woman offered Nicole a glass of champagne, and the girls accepted some chilled Shirley Temples. The man speaking with Adam and Randy took his position at the front, holding a small index card, as a strings version of Canon in D began to play over a sound system. Adam saw Nicole catch Randy’s eye and she smiled. The doors at the back of the room opened, and Adam watched as Wes, Nicole and the two girls stood to their feet. Adam saw Natalie first. She wore a black body con dress with a bodice that was nearly the same rusty color as his shirt. His eyes flicked toward Trish as she stepped beside Nattie, in an ivory off the shoulder dress that was cut just above her knee. She reached for Nattie’s hand, and with Canon in D still playing, Natalie began to walk her best friend down the aisle, both of them smiling.

That intimate gathering of chosen family was moving. Vows were exchanged. Promises were made. A few tears were joyfully cried. A kiss sealed it all. As Trish and Adam were ushered to the back of that little Vegas wedding chapel to sign a few pieces of paper, Natalie gave Randy a warm hug in silent acknowledgment of the metaphorical marathon he’d run to see his best friend to this point. Once Randy and Natalie had signed as witnesses, their party moved out into the lobby where they had another glass of champagne. Trish addressed Teagan and Karlee.

Trish Stratus So girls, let’s go see the Bellagio Fountains and then we’ll take you back to see Ms. Lynne.

Adam Copeland: Then all of us…

Adam gestured at the six adults.

Adam Copeland: …are going to go hit the tables, find a tequila bar, and a buffet.

Randy looked from Wes to Nicole to Karlee and then back to Adam, Trish and Natalie standing across from him. The three of them were smiling ear to ear.

Randy Orton: I thought we’d get the jet home since tomorrow is Thanksgiving…

Randy trailed off. Wes was already shaking his head. Randy heard him chuckle under his breath. Natalie raised her eyebrow playfully.

Adam Copeland: Randy! You know better than this.

Karlee was having a giggling fit. Wes exaggerated a sigh.

Wes Ikeda: Canadians and their stupid October Thanksgiving.

Nicole rolled her eyes at Natalie.

Nicole Orton: We should at least get to alternate Thanksgivings. Your dad was American for Christ’s sake.

Natalie laughed.

Natalie Neidhart: Halloween BEFORE Thanksgiving is just unnatural!

They were all laughing now, and Randy turned to reach for Karlee’s hand before throwing his other arm around Nicole.

Randy Orton: I guess we can be thankful bellied up to a tequila bar.

Adam Copeland: There he is!

Adam smiled down at Karlee, and looked over at Teagan.

Adam Copeland: But first, we promised our girls a trip to the Fountains.

Adam grabbed Trish’s hand, and Wes took Natalie’s bringing it to his lips to kiss the back of it.

Wes Ikeda: One more thing. A little gift.

They stepped out of the chapel and onto the street to see a stretch luxury SUV decked out on the curb.

Trish Stratus: Wes, that’s so sweet! You didn’t have to do that.

Wes Ikeda: Oh, I did, because I was absolutely certain we’d be needing a ride.

The driver opened the door and laughter filled Trish and Adam’s ears. That chosen family made their hearts glad. Life was beautiful.

And just six weeks later, Becky Lynch ruined everything.

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Monday, June 5, 2023
Roger’s Arena
Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada
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They were keeping her waiting. She knew they would. These men and this pathetic power play. Adam had offered to come with her, but she’d told him no. She had to handle her business herself. Plus, she’d be fine as long as she had even half the confidence that these mediocre men had. They weren’t even wrestlers. Trish had on a cropped t-shirt and black leather pants with knee high boots. She crossed her arms over her chest as the door opened. She’d expected Jim Ross, the Executive Vice President of Talent Relations. She did not expect who followed him, the Director of Live Events, Paul Heyman. She tried to hide the fact that she’d been caught by surprise, but she didn’t know if she’d been successful. Neither Jim nor Paul gave anything away. They sat down. She waited for them to start.

Jim Ross: Trish, firstly, thank you for meeting with us today. We know you’ve come along way.

Paul Heyman: Though I’m not sure we should be patting contractually obligated talent on the back for showing up to their scheduled appearances.

Trish raised her eyebrow and smirked, clearly unperturbed. She leaned forward, toward Jim.

Trish Stratus: JR, we’ve known each other for a very long time. Good suit, bad suit isn’t really necessary here.

Paul Heyman: Trish, if I may…

Trish’s eyes darted to Paul.

Trish Stratus: Does Wes know you’re here?

Paul Heyman: Mr. Ikeda has asked us to have this conversation with you today.

Trish Stratus: I don’t believe you.

Paul Heyman: Why would I lie about something so easily verifiable?

He had her there.

Trish Stratus: Why isn’t he here?

Paul Heyman: Mr. Ikeda…

JR put his hand up, stopping Paul.

Jim Ross: Wes confided in me that he has spoken with you at length, at the dinner table, around the bonfire, at a pool party, in the comfort of your living room, and you have not budged. I think you’re his wife’s best friend and he doesn’t want to walk in here and tell you that he’s attempted the easy way, but despite his best efforts you’re insisting on the hard way.

Trish Stratus: I convinced Adam that he didn’t have to sit out in solidarity, but Jim, I…

She felt herself softening toward her old friend. The first person who really gave her a chance in this business. She turned her gaze to Paul.

Trish Stratus: I understand as the Director of Live Events it’s in your best interest to have me on this show. I mean, firstly, I’m a draw. That’s obvious. You’re working with a women’s roster whose names most of the American populous can’t even pronounce. And I’m as good as I’ve ever been. I also know that Mina Shirakawa was injured last week, so if I don’t wrestle tonight Arisa Hoshiki has no opponent and your bracket is busted.

Paul nodded. Trish pointed her well manicured finger at her own chest and shook her head.

Trish Stratus: I’m going to file that under not my problem.

Paul started to speak, but she interrupted him.

Trish Stratus: Do Liv, Alexa and Becky still work here? Nobody is pressuring Nattie to get back in there with that EBWF endorsed trash, so why should I? I’ll tell Wes to his face that that’s unfair. Contracts this, contracts that. You’re not having this conversation with his wife.

JR’s eyes met Paul’s and Heyman let out a deep sigh.

Paul Heyman: Trish, Natalie Neidhart hasn’t had a valid EBWF contract in nearly three years. She’s paid by appearance if she accepts payment at all. She hates the formalities, but the marriage certificate is good enough for legal I suppose.

Trish knew her masked slipped. They saw she’d been knocked off balance. She knew that didn’t she? Surely, Nattie had told her that before, probably during one of her deepest periods of self loathing or possibly in one of her finer moments of vanity. Then, an idea.

Trish Stratus: Great. That just means I’m the only legend around here that you actually have locked down by contract. And while I can’t appear anywhere else legally, I can’t be forced to appear here. But here’s what I’m going to do, just to help you out. Make your lives easier.

They looked at her incredulously.

Trish Stratus: Jim, promise me that when you go back to Wes with my offer that you tell him that this is business. It’s not personal.

Jim Ross: I’ll tell him. But Trish… he adores you. He knows.

She swallowed hard, and then tried to pretend she didn’t feel the least bit bad. Going after the money was so trite, but it was the only way she knew where to hit them where it hurts.

Trish Stratus: You tell Wes that if I have a signed memo in my hands before my music hits tonight that states I get the $300,000 appearance fee I forfeited when I didn’t appear at Fallout AND 100% of the profits from my merch here at the Canadian shows… I’ll go out there and put Ariska over.

Heyman was slack jawed for a moment. JR hid a half smile.

Jim Ross: But what if… I think they wanted you to go over Ariska.

Trish laughed.

Trish Stratus: Absolutely not. I’ve been sitting on my ass since the Women’s Royal Rumble and writing Tweets. Mina deserves it. And I wouldn’t want to win because Becky is never going to share a ring with me for the rest of her miserable career. Liv and Alexa will be lucky if I ever give them the time of day either.

Paul Heyman: We will take your request back to Mr. Ikeda.

Trish stood up.

Trish Stratus: That wasn’t a request, Mr. Heyman. That was a demand. If you don’t meet it, you’d better get to figuring out how you’re going to have a credible, legitimate Queen of the Ring tournament.

Jim Ross: This is a dangerous game, Trish.

Trish nodded.

Trish Stratus: Maybe, but I’m willing to bet that Wes isn’t going to sue me for breach of contract. Which is why you’re also going to tell him that this negotiation was just to appear tonight. If I’m going to be a regular fixture on TV, our negotiations have just begun.

Trish felt just a hint of satisfaction when she saw it was Paul’s turn to be surprised. She stood up from her seat and without another word, left the room, going to find the Women’s Locker Room to get ready for Warfare.
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