Hey! Do you have time to read my script? I finally finished!

  Her reply was almost instant.

  Bitch send it to me!!

  I laughed. Amber still scared me a bit. The idea that such a strong woman liked spending time with me seemed questionable. I was still nursing bruises from the disconnect in my friendship with Dani and was wary of attaching myself too quickly to Amber. But I really wanted her friendship. She was amazing. I sent an email off to Amber and dragged myself to the bedroom.

  Tomorrow was an early start I wasn’t looking forward to. Traveling was fun, but I wished we didn’t have to wake up early to do it. Wednesday to Monday, we would be in Detroit. Weekly TV started the week, and the pay-per-view ended the week. In-between Logan would be busy with interviews, press, photoshoots, and practice. Amber had apparently told Logan that she would take care of me while he was busy. I pulled out the purple rolling suitcase Logan bought me and unzipped it on the bed. I needed to pack.

  It was a rainy Wednesday afternoon. The crappy weather made our drive up much longer than usual. There were no arguments from me, as I used the time to sleep. We made it in one piece and got settled in our hotel room. I very much wanted to cuddle with Logan under the fluffy hotel sheets, but he needed to head over to the stadium. Nick and Zeke had already texted him from the lobby. They were going to practice and shoot video packages for the pay-per-view. I had been prodding Logan for several days to tell me what the outcome of his match was going to be. I hadn’t gotten him to crack yet.

  “Please?” I grabbed fistfuls of Logan’s shirt and pleaded while presenting him with my best practiced puppy dog pout.

  “Nope Elle. Nope. Can’t tell you anything.” Logan smiled at me.

  Ugh. Stupid, sexy jerk.

  “Please? How about a hint? Baby girl would love a hint!”

  Logan kissed my forehead and muttered, “Not playing fair Elle… And I’m still not telling you.”

  I groaned and stomped my feet in mock frustration.

  “See you tonight!” Logan laughed as he left the room.

  I flopped onto the bed and rubbed my stomach. “We tried, baby girl. We tried.”

  I spent my Logan free hours sleeping and playing video games on the Nintendo the guys left behind. After rage quitting a game of Pokémon, I weighed the pros and cons of a long, hot shower before the show started. I wasn’t heading over to the arena tonight. Logan wasn’t wrestling, so we figured it was best for me to stay in.

  I didn’t mind, just without having work to do, I was aimless for finding something to fill my time. A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts. I opened the door to Amber standing there, dressed casually in ripped jeans, an oversized sweatshirt, and four-inch pumps. Even dressed down, she looked immaculate. It was like she had style superpowers. She held up a large wine bottle and grinned at me.

  “Hey girl!” She shouted as I invited her in.

  “You know pregnant people can’t drink, right?”

  Amber rolled her eyes. “Duh. It’s sparkling juice, dumbass. We have to celebrate you finishing that script. It’s a miracle! Like the Culture Club song! …I used to love Boy George, but he shit talked American queen Meghan Markle, so now he’s on my shit list.”

  A slow wave of dread washed over me as I prepared myself for criticism. Although I’d been doing the writing thing for years at this point, criticism churned my stomach and shot anxiety through my veins. If I had a magic lamp, I’d wish for everything I wrote to come out polished and perfect the first time. Sadly, I hadn’t found that mythical lamp yet.

  I swallowed in an attempt to dislodge the lump in my throat. It didn’t move, but I managed to squeak out, “That bad, huh?”

  Amber ducked into the bathroom and grabbed the two glasses that every hotel seemed to have on the counter. She heard me, but she didn’t respond. She handed me a glass and sat on the bed. She pulled the cork from the bottle with a flourish. The loud POP echoed through the room. She then filled both our glasses with the fizzy drink. Amber raised her glass overhead and said,

  “To Elle. Who suffered through terrible, eye watering art to write an amazing script! She’s talented as fuck and if StreamTube doesn’t pick her up, I plan on shopping her ass around until someone else snatches her up!”

  My heart stopped.

  That’s not criticism at all. That’s praise. Praise!?

  “Y-y-y-you liked it?!” I stammered.

  “Of course! You’re very talented. Now cheers me!” Amber held her glass out towards me.

  We clinked glasses and I took a huge gulp of juice. Amber’s perfectly red lips smirked up at me. She let me dangle in self-loathing on purpose. But Amber still terrified me, so I wasn’t going to even attempt bringing it up.

  “So, you really liked it?” I asked as I sat on beside her on the bed.

  Amber nodded. “Very much so. Like we talked about before, the massive problem with ‘The Fury and The Flood’ was the art. The world building and plotting were amazing, and still hold up. If we hadn’t talked about it, I would have had no idea that you struggled to write it. The script is crisp and emotional. You hit each plot point without beating the reader overhead with info dumping.”

  “Trying to condense Seth Reid’s world building was my second struggle. I wanted to showcase the world he’d built without too much explaining. I figured things would become clear once viewers were immersed.”

  “It’s a fine balancing act, but I think you did great. I’m sure Dani and her team will call for some changes, and there’s copy edits to come. But you already know that’s just the nature of these things. But this first round you knocked out of the park.”

  I stared into my glass, “Thank Amber.”

  She nudged my shoulder with her own, “Don’t thank me. You did all the damn work. Thank yourself, you’re badass!”

  I wasn’t a badass. I was sitting next to the embodiment of a badass. But that was another point I wasn’t going to argue with her. We polished off our juice and Amber collapsed back onto the bed.

  “What’s the plan for tonight?” I asked as I grabbed our glasses and sat them on the desk.

  “Well, I want to spoil my wonderfully talented pregnant friend with overpriced room service. My treat! We’ll pig out in bed and watch the show. Sound good?”

  “Sounds good!”

  Amber kicked off her heels and crawled over to the head of the bed. She patted the mattress beside her, inviting me to join her. I turned the TV on and found something for us to watch while Amber grabbed the bedside phone and called room service. I sat in wide-eyed fascination as she effortlessly countered any obstacles to getting what she wanted. She didn’t have to flex her fiancé’s name or even her own. Amber was able to ask and receive anything she wanted through sheer strength. After 30 minutes, there was a knock on the door and Amber leaped out of bed to greet room service.

  “Good evening!” the busboy smiled as he carried trays into the room.

  “On the bed is fine.” Amber directed.

  He sat two large trays on the foot of the bed.

  “I’ll see you in an hour. Enjoy!” he turned on his heels and left the room.

  Giddy, like an overly caffeinated child, Amber pulled the lids off the dishes.

  “Extra crispy chicken wings and fries. Also, an assortment of sauces for dipping, including ketchup, honey mustard, barbeque, and hot sauce.” Amber explained.

  “Why extra crispy?” I asked.

  “As a well-traveled woman, I’ve learned that hotel kitchens don’t pay attention to whether the chicken wings they buy in bulk are frozen raw, frozen cooked, or in between. Ordering them extra crispy always means they’ll be cooked thoroughly.” She winked at me.

  I made a mental note to store that information for later use.

  “Okay. Why is he coming back later?” I asked.

  “With dessert, silly! We have time to eat the main meal, then we can enjoy ice cream!”

  “I like the way you think!” I laughed.

  As we dug into the food, it pleasantly surprised me how good room service could be. It always seemed like a pricy overindulgence I couldn’t afford. It was nice to have a friend spoil me.

  “Amber, are we friends?” I blurted out.

  My chest tightened as I waited for her to admit she was taking pity on me, or just spending time with me because Logan asked her to.

  “I hope so. Are we?” she turned my question back around on me.

  “…I know I’m weird, but I think you’re awesome and I’d love to be your friend.” I confessed as I stared at my plate, unable to look at her.

  “Cool. Now it’s official. Elle is my new friend, although I already considered you to be my friend. So, I hope you’re ready for a weekend of girl time in the future. I’m talking spa, mocktails, ice cream, and shopping. And don’t worry about money. Consider it my treat.”

  Brow furrowed, I finally built up the courage to look up at Amber. She looked at me blankly as she waited for my response.

  “Really?” I questioned.

  She nodded before grabbing a fry and stuffing it into her mouth.

  “Are you sure?” I pressed.

  “Yeah! I think you’re neat. Plus, you’re pregnant, so I get to pamper you and myself by proxy. You’re good people Elle. I wouldn’t spend time with you if you weren’t.”

  Tears sprung up in my eyes. Grease covered fingers meant I couldn’t wipe them away. I took several deep breaths in through my nose and clamped my eyes shut as I wrangled my emotions into check. Amber and I polished off the last of the chicken as the MWA opening theme started.

  “Don’t get too excited. Joe told me Logan’s promo doesn’t air until an hour in.” Amber noted.

  “Can you tell me anything about his match on Sunday?” I asked once my emotions were back on an even level.

  Amber laughed, “Nope!”

  Damn it. At least I tried!

  The busboy returned an hour later with pints of personal ice cream and two whopping slices of chocolate cake. Amber slipped some cash into his hand and thanked him as he left. I ate all my cake and half of my ice cream before my stomach threatened to explode. Baby girl’s tap dancing in my uterus didn’t help matters. I settled against the pillows as a tag-team match ended. The ref held the guys’ hands overhead in victory.

  “You paying attention?” Amber asked, a shit-eating grin on her face.

  “Tonight, we hear from MWA upstart and global wrestling superstar Logan Cole,” one of the commentary team announced.

  My hands circled my belly, and my heart skipped a beat.

  The live feed cut to a taped promo. The camera panned up over Logan dressed in a crisp, baby blue suit. His lips curved up in his cocky, smarmy smirk. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of oversized sunglasses. Slowly, Logan reached up and removed his glasses. His blue eyes danced with intensity and mischief. My lower half clenched as my eyes absorbed the pure sex on the screen.

  Jesus…

  The camera then cut to a taxing private plane. The door opened, the stairs descended, and Logan stepped out. He straightened his suit jacket and strode down the steps. Head held high he confidently walked across the tarmac and stepped into a waiting black Audi SUV. I knew Logan didn’t have any of these things, but it perfectly fit the character he was portraying. The scene cut to an interview set with dimmed lighting. Alex Roby, a short, stocky man with gray hair, sat in a plush chair on a set across from Logan. Dressed in a gray suit, Logan sat with his hands steepled in front of his chin.

  “Thank you for sitting with us, Logan. Some people say you’re one of the greatest wrestlers in the ring today. Does the weight of such a heavy label bother you with the pressure of it all?”

  Logan smirked. “Of course not. There’s no pressure when you’re the best at what I do. And I am. I’ve been ranked as one of the best. An all-time great. If you do a Mount Rushmore of wrestling and I’m not on it, you’re insane.”

  “Some detractors call you cocky, arrogant, big-headed even-”

  Logan held up a hand, pausing Alex, “People who say such things are idiots. End of story.”

  Alex nodded, “Fair enough. So, I have to ask the question that’s been on everyone’s minds, you’re a global superstar. You’ve sold out arenas. You’ve etched your name into the wrestling history books, so why MWA?”

  The camera cut from Alex to clips of Logan in Japan. He dove over the top rope onto an opponent. He dashed across the ring and kicked another opponent in the head. Women cried as he approached them at the ringside. Fans hugged posters of him to their chests and screamed his name. A sweat drenched Logan stood in the middle of the ring holding up a championship belt overhead as streamers fell from the sky. The camera cut back to Logan with a thoughtful look on his face as he took a moment to ponder Alex’s question.

  “Well, like you said, I’ve accomplished things so many on this roster could only dream of, but I felt in my heart that I needed to grace MWA with my presence, with my star caliber. I wanted to elevate this company. I wanted to show America why I’m truly the best in the world. Every other country has bore witness to my greatness, but you backwater hicks here with your red, white, and blue are oblivious. I plan to change that.”

  “Last week I sat down with MWA champion TY Blue, and he said your arrogance would be your downfall,” Alex raised an eyebrow at him.

  Logan shook his head. “TY may be champion, but that’s only because he’s only had a parade of one and two-star wrestlers to face. He’s never been challenged by anyone like me. I’m going to give him the ass beating of his life, humiliate him, and take his title. I’m going to beat TY so bad he’ll never want to step in a wrestling ring ever again.”

  Alex blinked. “Is that a threat?”

  Logan smirked, stared straight at the camera, and responded in Japanese, “That’s a promise.”

  I blinked rapidly as the segment ended. The confidence Logan exuded was enchanting. If I weren’t already his number one fan, he would have won me over tonight.

  “You’re drooling.” Amber laughed.

  “No, I’m not!” I exclaimed.

  But I wiped my chin just in case.

  Elle

  Logan ending up being gone most of the weekend. He’d slip into bed after I fell asleep or was attempting to sleep. Side sleeping went much better with his body curled around me. When the bed shifted under his weight and his muscular arms circled around me, I could finally settle into a deeper sleep. In the haze of slumber, knowing he was with me filled my heart. Only for it to empty when I’d wake up alone. Sadly, that was just the nature of things and I needed to adjust. Thankfully, I had Amber in my corner. Her guy wasn’t a wrestler, but as owner, Joe put in countless hours. Amber commiserated, but didn’t allow me to wallow. As promised, she treated me to days filled with pampering.

  She bought me a new dress, a romper, and a pair of sandals. We got facials and our nails done. We munched on tiny donuts, soft pretzels, and ice cream. Whenever I felt pangs of guilt or waves of sadness, Amber would grab my wrist and drag me along to do something new. She was a wave of powerful chaos, and I was grateful to have her in my life.

  Joe secured front row seats for the show tonight. Amber told me since we would be on camera, we had to look good. My heart leaped out of my fucking chest as she barged into my room right just as settled in for a nap.

  How did she get a key?!

  I didn’t ask that question. She was already dressed to the nines in a hip hugging red dress and strappy black heels. An out-of-place duffle bag hung from her shoulder. She walked straight into the bathroom and didn’t say a word. I scrambled out of bed and followed her. From the duffle bag, she pulled out several pallets of makeup. I swallowed a groan and mentally prepared myself to be her canvas. Amber grabbed my shoulder and led me over to the bathtub. I sat on the edge of the tub as she decorated my face with various powers and creams.

  “…Is all this necessary?” I eventually worked up the courage to ask.

  “You bet your ass it is! Stay still!” she squeezed my chin.

  I tried not to wince as her French tips dug in. I was very much just a lotion and eyeliner girl. I didn’t know anything about makeup. I was worried about looking like a clown, but Amber took care of me. Light foundation, a bit of eyeliner, and ruby red lip.

  “Wow… I look good!” I exclaimed as I admired my face in the mirror.

  “Of course you do! I wouldn’t let my bestie go on TV looking busted!” I glanced up to see Amber’s reflection rolling her eyes.

  “Thanks bestie!” I turned and smiled at her.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah! Now get dressed. We need to get a move on!” she waved her hand dismissively.

  I slipped on my new cream-colored wrap dress. The flowy fabric and cap sleeves made me feel so cute. The added touch of the pattern of tiny pink flower gave me just the perfect amount of color. I smoothed my hands over my bump as I took a second to admire myself in the full-length mirror. I was already at the point where I needed Amber to help me strap up my sandals. Thankfully, she didn’t complain too much. Amber drove us to Ember Stadium, where we avoided the massive line and were waved through by security into the staff parking lot. When we got out of the car, the screeching wheels of a golf cart greeted us.

  “Hello Amber!” The short beardy driver of the cart waved.

  “Hey Larry. You know where we’re headed?” Amber asked as we climbed into the back of the cart.

  “Yes, Ma’am!” Larry saluted.

  I laughed and Amber rolled her eyes. He reached over the seat with two VIP lanyards.

  “Totally clashes with my outfit…” Amber muttered under her breath.

  The golf cart lurched forward, and we were off.

  “Can’t have the pregnant bestie walking too far!” Amber nudged my shoulder once her disappointment over the lanyard wore off.