Chapter 2
Shane McMahon juggled a sheaf of papers, his portfolio briefcase and a tall black coffee (extra sugar) on his way to his mother's office in the Titan Tower. While his father and sister had been on the road with Smackdown since the brand extension, he had remained in Connecticut, learning more about the business end of things. Stephanie, with her flair for the dramatic, was not at all suited to office work, and was happier on the road with the tv crews. Shane's business degree and head for numbers meant it was left to him to ensure that their grandfather's legacy continued far into the future.
"Pauletta my love, is the boss around?" Shane tipped a wink and a sly crooked smile to Linda's secretary. Pauletta merely raised an eyebrow worthy of the Rock himself and never missed a beat typing up the agenda for that morning's board meeting. A handsome woman who was somewhere on the wrong side of fifty, her hair was firmly restrained in the same French twist that she had worn since her first day of work with Linda McMahon nearly thirty years ago. She favored man-tailored suits in the style of Katharine Hepburn and was generally regarded with the same quiet awe as Linda herself. A natural flirt, Shane had spent most of his adult life trying to get a rise out of Pauletta. He hadn't yet succeeded.
"Go on in, she's expecting you. There's fresh coffee on the credenza, I'm sure you'll need it." Pauletta's eyes returned to the document on the holder next to her monitor, dismissing Shane.
Shane shook his head and strode on past Pauletta's desk through the leather-covered double doors into his mother's office.
"Mother! You look wonderful this morning. Have you heard from Dad?" Shane dropped his papers and briefcase into one of the overstuffed armchairs and his coffee on the low table just inside the doors. He turned to Linda with his arms outstretched and a wide smile on his face.
Linda came around from her desk on the dais and walked into her son's arms, planting a kiss on his cheek. "Good morning son, and thank you. I spoke with your father last night. He seems none the worse for wear after his match with Zach Gowan last night. He wasn't too happy the medics had to cut his hair to do the stitches, but he'll get over it."
"And how are you doing? I still can't believe you took that piledriver from Glenn last week. He didn't hurt you did he?" Shane's voice was colored with concern for his mother.
Linda dismissed his worries with a laugh. "Nothing that a good massage, a Percoset and some time in the hot tub and sauna didn't take care of. I'm good as new son, don't worry about me. This old lady has a few tricks left up her sleeve."
"Now mother, I'm supposed to be the one taking the sick bumps, not you."
"Shane McMahon, don't you talk to me like a child. In case you have forgotten, I'm the mother here. I'll have you know that your father made sure I was well-trained before you kids came along. Vince might have his bad points, but leaving his family unprepared is not one of them." Linda turned and settled regally into one of the armchairs by the table. "Let's go over the figures before you have to catch a plane to Colorado."
Shane handed his mother a bundle of papers and they began reviewing the contents. Two hours and three pots of coffee later, he dropped his papers on the table and rubbed his eyes. Looking into his cup and finding it empty, he went over to the mahogany credenza and poured in the dregs of the last pot, sugaring it liberally as was his habit. Linda stacked her papers against the edge of the table and laid them neatly on the edge.
"Ok, I think that about covers it. Is there anything else we need to go over?"
Shane didn't turn and face his mother, but picked up his cup and headed over to the bank of windows behind her desk instead. "Actually Mom, there is. It's not in the main financials, but there is something I want to ask you. I got a call first thing this morning from Mary Jacobs, the new manager for Accounts Payable. She had some questions about a monthly payout from one of the smaller divisions. It seems that there has been a monthly deposit into the personal bank account of one Angela Johnson in St. Louis Missouri for the last twenty-five years. Since the company has gone through so many changes in recent years, she wasn't sure where to begin to look for the original invoices and there is no record of services rendered…except for a memo directing an increase in payments by $2000 dated in 1995…and authorized by you. Who is Angela Johnson and what's this about? Are you being blackmailed for some reason?"
For a long moment, Linda didn't respond. She took a deep breath and walked to the credenza to pour her own drink, though she chose a shot of neat brandy for herself. She tossed it back and calmly regarded her son.
"I suppose it was going to have to come out eventually. No Shane, we are not being blackmailed. As usual, I'm left to clean up the messes left by the McMahon men. I'm just surprised the secret was kept this long. Angela has certainly lived up to her end of the deal up to now.
"Angela Johnson is the mother of your half-sister."