Late afternoon, 5 April 2013
'Looks like Maddox and Vickie are getting along all right. Ryback's got his hands full with Mark Henry. But John -'
"Lola? Could I talk to you for a minute?"
"Miz. Yes, of course. What's on your mind?"
He sat across from her in the secluded corner booth. "I have a couple of ideas you might like for WrestleMania."
Lola had to admit The Miz had some . . . interesting thoughts for Sunday night. Whether it would actually work remained to be seen, but it would be unexpected.
'Too many damned dirt sheets,' she thought with disdain. 'We do need something fresh, though, something, some twist no one would see coming and spoil the surprise. Why do people always try to beat us to the punch, to the reveal? It takes all the fun out of this.'
She sat at her desk and wrote an email to the board members. Clearly, they couldn't tease hints as to what was coming if they wanted anything to be kept under wraps. No, better to feed false information, a few unfounded rumours planted here and there, even an outright lie or two would help.
The knock at the door interrupted her train of thought. "Ah, John. Come in. Would you like something to drink?"
"Uh, no. Thanks." He took a seat.
"I'm glad you took me up on my invitation."
"Well, you're a difficult woman to say no to," he grinned.
She smiled back. "Oh, Johnny. The truth is . . . I miss the days when you were the general manager of Monday Night Raw."
"I thought you liked having Vickie running things?"
"Oh, I do, I do. I just . . . miss the way things used to be. Before things got so . . . complicated . . ."
Laurinaitis nodded. He missed the way they were, too.