DISCLAIMER: I do not own Stephanie McMahon, Chris Jericho, and various other WWE characters that appear in the subsequent story. They are the property of the actors and actresses that portray them, as well as the WWE. Vince, please don't sue me, I have less than two months before I graduate college and join those lovely taxpayers that fuel your empire.
Façade
CHAPTER EIGHT
*Where the hell is he?* I thought as I checked my watch for the zillionth time. *8:14… he's late.* Sighing, I took another sip of my coffee and pretended to be interested in the contracts that I brought along to work on. However, like the previous half-hour, they failed to hold my attention and once again I found myself staring at the entrance of the restaurant from the corner of my eye.
Hating to sit idly by, I mentally rehearsed all the options Kurt and I had gone over last night. From the time I had left the arena after Raw to when I crawled into bed, Kurt had painstakingly gone through all possible scenarios that would occur at this bruncheon; further, he developed my counterattack for each possibility. I listened attentively for the first hour; then when he started on the possibility of blackmail for money, I tuned out. There was no reason to get crazy over this; I used to sign Jericho's paychecks when he was my employee on Smackdown, and his income supported his royal title as the 'King of Bling Bling'.
After Kurt killed my cell phone battery with wild theories and angry threats, I used the hotel phone to call Dawn Marie for advice of a different nature: my attraction to Jericho. I argued that it was a weakness that would only hurt me in the end; she maintained that it was a positive development and I should pursue it further. In fact, she encouraged me to proposition him and end my almost two year celibacy. I pretended to be outraged at the idea, but we both knew I found the prospect irresistible. The remainder of the conversation was about my attire for this breakfast meeting, then she had to go attend to John, whom had just showed up at her front door.
Coming out of thoughts, I caught sight of movement out of the corner of my eye, and recognized a disheveled Chris Jericho entering the restaurant. Suppressing a smile, I focused on the contracts once again, meeting his eyes only when he reached my table. "Good morning," I greeted coolly as he plopped down in the chair across from me. He grunted in response, running a hand through his uncombed hair before reaching for the carafe on the table. "Sleep well?"
Pouring himself a large cup of coffee, he threw a glare in my direction. "I don't do mornings, princess," he growled. I stifled a giggle as he chugged half of the contents of his cup, then proceeded to refill, rubbing at his eyes like a little boy forced to get up for school.
I nearly felt bad for the half-awake man before me, but I reminded myself of the purpose of the meeting and steeled myself into control. "Well, then, let's this over with so the King of the World can get back to bed."
Finishing his second cup of coffee, Jericho shrugged. "I'm up now, princess. Besides, don't I get to order some food on this breakfast date?"
"Excuse me?" I sputtered, unable to keep the blush from spreading across my face at his raised eyebrow. Mentally going over the contents of my invitation, I found nothing that could be interpreted as casual and date-like. I waited for him to explain, but he took the opportunity to wave over a waitress. Quickly skimming the contents of the menu, Jericho suddenly gave me an evil grin and then a huge smile to the approaching waitress.
"Good morning sir, what can I get for you?" the small redhead asked, notepad in hand.
"Good morning to you too, sweetheart. Do you have a name?" I frowned at his affectionate behavior, but hid it behind my hand.
"Tiffany." The girl blushed to the roots of her auburn hair, but still managed to offer a saucy grin. *Slut!* I mentally screamed.
"Tiff, honey, I would love some blueberry pancakes with a side of bacon as fast as possible. I'm still a growing boy after all," he joked, flexing his bicep at the swooning girl. I nearly growled at his blatant flirting, but bit my lip and kept a neutral expression, internally calming myself with a vision of bashing Tiffany's nose into her face.
Tiffany was mesmerized, unable to break eye contact with Jericho as she blindly scribbled down his order on her notepad. "Did you want another fruit plate, ma'am?" she asked me, offering my companion an eye roll and another grin.
*Is she mocking me?!* White-hot anger shot down my spine, and I had the urge to claw her face to bits. As I was about to reprimand the little hussy, I glanced at Jericho to see that he was focused on me, a little smirk playing on my face, and realized that he was waiting for my outburst; proof that he had successfully pissed me off using a third party just so I would scream and shout like a princess. Reigning in my fury, I banged my hand on the table, startling both parties. "Now you went and made me hungry, Chris!" I playfully admonished, offering him a huge smile. "I'll take a western omelette and a double order of sausage, please. You're familiar with sausage, right?" I let my eyes fall to gaze at Tiffany's hips, and smirked. "Seems to me that you're familiar with the entire pork family!" I remarked.
Giving me the evil eye, the girl wrote down my order and stormed off. As soon as she turned towards the kitchen, Jericho started to laugh, and I allowed a small smile to peek through as I took a sip of my coffee. "That was nothing like the old days," he remarked.
"The old days? It hasn't been that long since you worked for me," I scoffed.
"I meant the old days of our partnership. When you came back, you had evolved into Briefcase Bitch."
"Briefcase Bitch!" That title did not become me well.
"Yes, Briefcase Bitch. Friend to both the fans and wrestlers. Sympathetic to the downtrodden… well, actually, just pathetic."
"I…. whatever!" I retorted, still reeling from the name. "Briefcase Bitch," I muttered quietly. *That's worse than the 'trash-bag ho' comment.*
Jericho laughed. "Sorry to break it to ya, Princess, but that's how you were. In fact, I haven't seen the old you since before…"
"You're full of crap," I interrupted, growing weary of the conversation that would come. Mentally bemoaning the fact that our 'breakfast date' was about to take a turn for the serious, I took a deep breath, pinning Jericho with a serious look. "What is it going to take for you to keep quiet about my little secret?"
His brow furrowed. "Isn't it obvious?"
I wanted to throw my silverware at his head, starting with the cutlery. "No, it's not! You promised to keep my secret, and then next thing I know you're prancing around I the ring, ready to blab to my brother and the entire audience!"
His eyes suddenly cleared from confusion. "He doesn't know?" he questioned, although I saw that he knew the answer.
I nodded, drumming my fingers on the table. "Not many people do," I admitted. "And I'd like to keep it that way. So…." I waited for him to state his demands.
The confusion returned. "So…." he repeated, offering a blank look.
There were some days that Jericho, as much as I liked him, really got on my nerves. Grinding my teeth a bit, I tried not to shout at the oblivious man. "Alright. I am prepared to offer you a title shot on Smackdown in exchange for your silence. Further, if you never speak of it again, not even to me, Kurt is willing to throw the match."
Jericho's eyes nearly popped out into his cup as he gagged on a sip of coffee. "Are you serious?" he stammered. I nodded, and he broke out in laughter. "All that to forget your dirty secret, Princess? What about if I want to have my way with you?"
My jaw dropped; despite the lack of romance that would accompany such an act, I couldn't help but shiver at the thought of Jericho and I between the sheets. "I suppose," I mumbled, embarrassed that I was actually somewhat EXCITED at the proposition.
Instead of the leer I was expecting, or even a 'trash-bag ho' comment that would have been rather appropriate, Jericho's demeanor became solemn. "You really would do anything…" he trailed off, playing with his napkin before meeting my eyes again. "I want to know what happened to you that killed your spirit."
"Excuse me?" Now I was completely lost, still wondering what happened to the sex proposal.
"Why you aren't the screechy, demanding, stubborn princess that we all knew and loved." I raised an eyebrow at the 'loved' part; Jericho shrugged before continuing. "Your theme music says you grew up, but I think something happened to you that forced you to grow up."
I shuddered at his words; he was uncomfortably close to the truth. Breaking eye contact, I stared at the white linen tablecloth as I tried to come up with an explanation that didn't involve the cancer. "I divorced Hunter and lost my job. For the first time ever, I was truly alone." Pleased with my justification, I dared to look up into his eyes.
"And…" he said, exasperation tinting his voice.
"Annnnnnd?" I repeated, pleased to use his little game on him.
"This is when you tell me about your diagnosis." He spoke slowly, as if addressing a child.
"I don't see how telling you anything else will benefit me!" I balked, tearing a corner off of my paper placemat and shredding it to bits. "How can I trust you to keep a bigger secret if you keep trying to 'out' me on national TV?"
Jericho sighed with frustration. "Look, princess, I wasn't spilling the beans on Monday. I wanted to talk to Shane about you, since you haven't been willing to share anything with me these days except saliva." I blushed at the comment, ripping another corner from the placemat to calm my nerves. "How was I supposed to know that you didn't tell your family?"
"You've worked for my family for HOW many years and you're still surprised by our behavior?" I retorted sarcastically, continuing at my placemat. "Wait, I got it, I could have told them about the lump during the whole 'kicking me out the family business' thing."
At his stunned reaction, I processed what I had just revealed and froze. *Why don't I ever think before speaking around him?* Suddenly nauseous, I looked towards the entrance, contemplating my options. With Jericho's eyes burning a hole in my forehead, demanding more of an explanation, I resolutely decided to finish what I had started. After all, the damage had been done. "I do believe it was number three on your printout from Monday night," I mumbled.
I wasn't sure how I expected him to react; he had no immediate response to my revelation, and since I wasn't looking at his face I had no idea of what he could be feeling. Reaching behind me, I pulled my coat on over my t-shirt, feeling inexplicably exposed. It was during this uncomfortable silence that Tiffany became my savior, bringing us our breakfast. Beyond thankful for the diversion, I offered the girl a genuine smile (which caused her to scurry away) before digging into my omelette.
Even with the presence of our food, the silence was overpowering. I was reminded of our shared limo ride that occurred not so long ago, and had to wonder at Jericho's reaction to my secret. It was not like him to hide what he was feeling; and I hated having to ask him to tell me.
Halfway through my food, raging curiosity drove me to look up at my silent companion. Jericho was reclining in his chair, his breakfast untouched, and appeared to be watching me eat. Seeing an opportunity to lift the deafening silence, I attempted to lighten the situation. "You'll disappoint Tiffany if you don't eat. After all, you are a growing boy," I mocked. He opened his mouth to retort, then quickly shut it, visibly distressed. Surprised at his lack of response, I felt my anger flare and came to a conclusion as to what was fueling his current behavior. "Don't you DARE start treating me this way, Chris Jericho," I warned, slamming my fork to the table.
My outburst shook him out of his stupor. "Look, Stephy…" His eyes were filled with concern.
I cut him off with a wave. "Whatever you're thinking, stop. I already told you, I don't want nor need your pity, so don't start acting all weird for something that happened months ago. I'm fine now," I stressed. Deciding that I had stayed long enough, I stood up from the table, grabbing my things. "Since you got what you wanted, this meeting is over. Can't wait until you blab it to the crowd on Smackdown."
Jericho, of course, had other plans. As I walked past him towards the door, he grabbed my free hand and yanked me backwards, causing me to unceremoniously fall in his lap. A tiny part of me reveled in the contact, but I managed to suppress my glee and paste on an irritated glare. "Since when do you dine and ditch?" he joked. I groaned and struggled to get up, but he wrapped an arm around my waist, securing me. "I am sick and tired of you deciding how I feel and running off before I can respond." His voice was filled with exasperation. "And stop assuming that every thing I say, every emotion I show, is fueled by pity. I will never feel any sort of pity towards you, Princess."
"Stop calling me that," I whined, crossing my arms and not trusting the sincerity of his words.
"Stop calling me Jericho," he responded. "You told me your darkest secret not a few minutes ago; I think we can afford to be on a first name basis."
"I didn't know you liked to be called Jackass in public." Offering him a sweet smile, I shifted on his lap, making sure that my thigh pressed too hard on a certain sensitive area. He yelped and shifted me back on his legs, but did not move to release me from my position. "So, Jackass, can I go sit back in my seat now? People are staring."
Instead of letting me go, he tightened his arm around my waist, forcing me to wrap my right arm around his shoulders in order to remain somewhat comfortable. "Don't pretend that you aren't enjoying this. It's written all over your face." I shivered at his words, and for a lack of a better response, opted to stick my tongue out at him. "You're going to sit right here and hear me out. I am not letting you get up and run off until I have said my peace. Got it?"
*Why the hell does he get to order me around like this?* I wondered silently. Although he may have guessed correctly about the current pleasure I was taking in our seating arrangement, he was dead wrong if he thought I was going to let him order me around like this. Poking him in the chest, I allowed my anger to spill over. "Now YOU listen here, Jackass," I began, enunciating every word. "I will not be forced to sit in your lap while you get your jollies like some perverted Santa Claus! If you have something to say to me, we will do it in private, and that's final! GOT IT?!" I screeched, causing the elderly couple sitting behind Jericho to whip their heads around in surprise. "What the hell are you two corpses looking at? This is a private conversation!" I glared at them until they looked away, then returned my attention to the man I was sitting on.
As I met his eyes, a beautiful smile erupted on his face, startling the hell out of me. "There you are," he whispered, reaching up his free hand to stroke my cheek.
My anger began to deflate under his soothing touch, replaced by confusion. "What are you talking about, Jackass?"
He shook his head. "Let's talk later," he mumbled. I barely caught the sight of him licking his lips before he closed the distance between us, pressing the newly moistened lips to mine. I literally went numb for a moment, hardly able to close my eyes as he plundered my mouth. With a thorough mental shake, I tightened my grip around his shoulders and kissed him back with everything I had. A tiny moan escaped his throat, and I felt a surge of power course through me. Pulling back just a bit, I took care to nibble on that lower lip that tempted me every time we spoke. However, I then missed the warm coffee taste of his mouth and returned there, enjoying the growing heat between us and telling my thoughts to take a hike.
Eventually breaking away for air, he pressed his forehead to mine. His eyes were dilated slightly, and filled with passion. I shivered, reaching up to smooth his hair back behind his ear. Neither of us spoke; on my end, I was afraid that anything I would say would turn into another fight. The hand that stroked my cheek moved up to my hair; and for a brief second he touched the scalp of my wig. I jumped, pulling his hand away as it trailed through the length of my hair, petrified that he felt something.
"What?" he asked, clasping his fingers around mine in an endearing fashion.
"Nothing. I remembered I have a conference call in ten minutes," I lied, needing an avenue to escape. Something about his innocent touching had spooked the hell out of me. My wig was something I never spoke about and never acknowledged, not even to my doctors. I'd burn it if my real hair underneath didn't look so… sickly.
"I see." Removing his arm from my waist, he assisted me in standing up. Disappointment was etched across his features, and it nearly broke my heart. Wanting to see that smile again from before, I grabbed his hand and wrapped my fingers around his, imitating his move. He looked at his hand, then back at me, an unreadable expression in his eyes.
"Are you flying to Raleigh today?" He shook his head no, and I averted my eyes, taking a deep breath for what I was about to say next. "You should take me out to dinner. We could talk more… you did say you wanted to talk." Mentally I wondered what I was doing, provoking a conversation that I did not want to have, in public. My heart, however, was doing cartwheels at the idea of an official date.
He tugged on our entwined hands, but I still could not meet his gaze. "I am flying out early tomorrow morning… but I suppose it would be ok as long as you got me in bed by midnight."
At his tasteless comment, I couldn't help but giggle like a schoolgirl, the tension slowly draining from my body. Squeezing his hand one last time, I let go, then met his gaze briefly as I gathered my things from the table. "Pick me up at 7:30?"
"Sounds like a plan," he affirmed.
Satisfied that I had all my belongings, I walked past Jericho, allowing my fingers to brush against his chest on my way to the elevators. "See you later," I called out over my shoulder, trying my damndest not to skip to the hotel lobby. I was so excited about tonight that I could barely hold a thought in my head. It was Christmas giddiness; and I was getting the best present ever tonight.
After an excruciatingly long elevator ride, I rushed into my hotel room and grabbed my cell phone, hitting speed dial #2. As the phone rang, I placed the contracts on dresser, then plopped down on the bed.
"'Lo?" an unfamiliar male voice answered. Before I could ask to speak to Dawn, I heard her yawning in the background, then asking for her cell phone. "Steph?" she spoke a moment later.
"Hey, sorry I woke you up. You can go back to sleep if you want."
"Nah, its ok, just hold on a sec." There were more exchanged words between her and the male voice (who upon further concentration was NOT sounding like Mr. Word Life), then the creaking of a bed and the shutting of a door. "Alright, I'm in the bathroom. What happened?"
"First you tell me who that guy was, because I know it isn't John," I demanded.
She groaned. "He's an old flame who lives around here, and I was upset. John and I broke up last night." Her voice turned sad. "I knew it couldn't last… I'm 33 and he's 26. If I were him I wouldn't want to be seen with an old maid like me either."
I sighed; Dawn Marie was such a romantic, and yet she always got caught up in these dead-end sexual relationships. "You know that's not true, you are a beautiful young woman and any man, older or younger, recognizes that," I consoled. "Further, John Cena may be chronologically 26, but he acts like he's a teenager, wearing those ridiculous jerseys and baggy shorts!" I heard her snort in the background and smiled, glad that I could make her laugh. "And that lock! That was to hold that gigantic inflated head of his to his neck. I bet he used to use it to chain up his bicycle as a kid."
Dawn full out laughed into the phone. "I did hate that thing," she admitted. "But anyway, we'll talk about this later when I don't have to hide in the bathroom. What happened at the meeting?"
"Breakfast date," I corrected, smiling at the memory.
"Breakfast date?! Since when?"
"That's what he called it," I explained. "And I wasn't about to argue."
"Oh my god, you guys kissed again, didn't you!" I giggled at her tone, and she shrieked. "You did! What else… wait a second; he's not there in your hotel room right now, is he?"
"No no no, he was still at the restaurant when I left," I explained. "But… we are having dinner tonight."
She was silent for a moment, and then literally whooped for joy. "Steph! That's great! What are you going to wear?"
"Wait a second, first call Kurt and we'll three-way about everything else that happened at the meeting. I don't want to tell this story twice; plus, it appears that I need to go shopping for a cocktail dress." As I heard her fussing with the buttons on her phone, I laughed out loud at her reaction. Then again, her joy was merely a fraction of what I was feeling. Touching my lips, I thought of our heated kiss over breakfast and couldn't wait until we would be face to face later that night.
END CHAPTER EIGHT
Author's Notes: I originally tried to include "the big date" within this chapter, but when I hit 15 pages, and I wasn't quite finished, I decided that was a bit too much for y'all to read. So that'll be posted soon (I hope I hope!)
Speaking of the date, there is a small part of me that feels like I am rushing things between Jericho and Stephanie. The rest of me wants them to sleep together. So I hope you all like the progression in their relationship. I know that I am enjoying writing all these kissing sequences :)
I want to thank everyone who has reviewed and given me such positive feedback! It makes my day when I see those review alerts in my mailbox. In particular, I'd like to thank my consistently amazing reviewer nascar-girl, as well as an encouraging e-mail from Jodi, who inspired me to chop the chapter in half and update earlier than expected. And of course, a review from DCfanatic4life is always the biggest and greatest honor.
With that, please feel free to review, watch VH1 for the sporadic Chris Jericho sightings (as well as MTV's Headbangers Ball; last Saturday he was on with a bunch of other WWE superstars), and take care of yourselves. Until next time!