Chapter Two
Vincent Kennedy McMahon hung up his cell and ordered his second cup of coffee. Phil wasn't going to be happy with this. Vince knew the challenge they had ahead of them. He knew the risks if it didn't turn out as planned. He also knew the rewards they would reap if it did. He wasn't stupid. You didn't run, then become owner of an international corporation, a worldwide success that no other company of its kind could match, without taking risks. He could imagine the looks on the WWE fans' faces if, no, when, it happened. It would be spectacular. All he needed to do was dot a few i's and cross a few t's. "Easy as peas", Vince thought to himself.
Vince was on his third cup of coffee by the time he saw Phil throw what used to be a bike up against the wall outside the café. "Only Punk could pull that off", Vince thought to himself, smirking. Outside, the man known to the WWE universe as CM Punk was fuming. As he examined his bike he knew it was a write off. "Damn Vince and his fucking missions!", Phil cursed. "My ears are just about ready to fall off they're burning that much", Vince shouted out the door in a raspy voice. "Should I even ask what happened?", he asked, on the verge of laughter. Phil glared and mentally counted to ten. "Come inside and we'll order breakfast". "Breakfast! A new mountain bike is what you'll be ordering me!", Phil threw back at him.
"So what will you have", Vince asked when they were reseated at their table. "Coffee's fine" Phil answered. "It's not everyday I offer to buy breakfast Phil, this might be your only chance to take advantage of me", Vince replied, surprised he had been turned down. "I already ate", was Phil's answer. "What did you have", Vince asked curiously. "Fruit loops with Pepsi. Don't look at me like that, it's Wednesday, plus I'm not working right now so I can slack a little once in a while", Phil said a little defensively. Vince laughed out loud, "Breakfast of champions, Punk, breakfast of champions".
As Vince sat there eating his breakfast, Phil studied him. He was up to something, Phil knew that much. When Vince had asked him to move to Westmore temporarily, he wasn't too keen on the idea, and he let the boss know about it. But when Vince wanted something, he got it. So Phil relocated. But he was under strict orders. He was to act as if he were on a mini break. He needed fresh air to rehab his banged up knee a little bit. He wasn't to get too close to the locals, but he had to blend in, be friendly, so people wouldn't get suspicious. So Phil had done as he was told, all in blind faith, because truth be told, he still didn't know the real reason he was here. He was hoping that this breakfast meeting would shed some light on what the heck he was doing here and when he could get the heck outta here and back to Chicago.
Vince could feel Phil's eyes boring through him. He was suspicious and maybe a little angry, but he has every right to be, Vince thought to himself. That's why he didn't tell him staring was rude because he didn't want to rile the guy up any more than he already was. What he was about to ask him was going to require a lot of hard work and the patience of a saint. Vince really wanted to do this himself, but he knew in his heart that he wasn't the right man for the job. There was bad blood, and he was praying to Jesus, Mohommad, Buddha, even Elizabeth, that the bad blood didn't run too deep. "Please Liz" he thought, "help us get this done". As he washed down the last of his toast, he knew this was the beginning. How it would end, well, "let's hope for the best", he said inwardly, being his usual optimistic self.
After the waitress cleared their table, the men stayed to finish their coffees. Phil sat patiently. He knew he couldn't bully or pester answers out of Vince. This was Vince's favourite game, the waiting game. But Phil knew how to play. He would sit quietly, not giving ol' Vinnie the satisfaction of seeing him agitated. He played it cool. And shortly after his efforts were rewarded. "Do you think people can really change, Phil?", Vince asked seriously. Phil certainly wasn't expecting that. "Uhmm, depends in what way, I suppose", he answered slowly. "I'm gonna give it to ya straight Phil. People with addictions. Can they stay clean? Can they be trusted? Should they be given more chances than they deserve?". Phil stared right at Vince and thought about what to say. "Well, Sir, this is probably a little bias on my part, considering my family's history, but yes, I do believe people can change for the better. And I believe they can stay better than the old version of themselves. A prime example is my Dad. He has been given so many chances, and I'm so glad we never gave up on him because he is one of the best men I know today. You could actually call him a role model and not laugh", Phil answered passionately. Vince nodded thoughtfully. "I'm glad I picked you for this job, Phil", Vince said as he was beginning to stand. Phil stood too as Vince threw a $50 on the table. While they were walking to Vince's parked car Phil finally asked, "What job, Sir? You never actually told me what I'm doing out here." "Really?! I thought you would have added two and two together Phil. See that big house up on the hill out there?" Phil looked up at the house, and shook his head while he shielded his eyes from the early morning sun. "Nika Benitez lives there". Phil's eyes went the size of saucers. "I want you to get her to sign a contract with WWE."
