Author's Note: To Lila, yes, there will be a love interest for Stephanie. This will become evident in the next few chapters.
Chapter Two: Harbinger of Tension
Stephanie was so nervous she couldn't sit still. Shane had dragged her to a security and investigation firm. Some friend of his was head of the company and Shane was trying to call in a favor. She applied the light mauve lipstick again for the second time in thirty minutes. Shane reached over and jerked the lipstick tube from her fingers. She clambered for it as he held it at arm's length from her. "Give it back."
"Only if you promise not to put it on again and then RELAX!" He dangled it in front of her. She grabbed for it again but he whipped it out of her grasp. "You didn't promise."
"Okay, I promise." She jerked the lipstick from his hand and threw it in her purse. She straightened her black skirt and began looking around the office.
The massive desk was much like hers in the corporate office. Books on security and private investigation lined the shelves behind the desk. There was a mini-bar in one corner and a small round table with six chairs around it. The view from the enormous window wasn't much to look at from the twenty-fifth floor. The pair was seated on a taupe couch that matched the earth tone color scheme of the room.
Finally, a man entered the room. Stephanie presumed him to be Aaron Pendleton, the owner of the office. He was dressed in a dark chocolate suit. His light blonde hair was slightly thinning but his brilliant smile drew away one's eyes. He and Shane greeted each other with a hug. Stephanie, having stood upon his entrance, clasped his outstretched hand. He motioned for them to sit back down and then joined them in a plush chair beside the sofa.
"Ms. McMahon, your brother has informed me of the situation and I believe we can help," he began in a soothing voice. She nodded and he continued. "We have taken into consideration your prominence regarding television, the concern for an in-depth investigation, and the need to locate this offender." He leaned forward in his seat. "We determined that the best course would be something like a bodyguard while we investigate the evidence that we have."
"Wait. A bodyguard? That's not—" Stephanie interrupted but was cut off.
"We chose a woman that will pose as a college friend that you are hiring as a personal assistant. As a person in this position and both of you not having seen each other since your college graduation, she can stick very close to your side. This will keep you safe and not tip the stalker off or frighten him away," Aaron continued.
"What's wrong with that?"
"Ms. McMahon, would you like a bodyguard for the rest of your life?" She shook her head in the negative. "From the letter's contents, this is a serious matter. You can go to the police and lose the man, only for him to resurface once they are gone, along with the possibility of this becoming a public spectacle. Or we can follow this course of action in hopes that this will be all over in a matter of weeks. The choice is yours."
Stephanie stared back at him for a moment as he leaned back in his seat. She knew there was no reason in even pondering the options. "How much is this going to cost?" she sighed.
Shane placed a hand on her knee. "That's not a concern of yours. I'll take care of it and you don't have to worry about finances at all."
Aaron smiled, stood up, and held out his hand. "Shall we proceed?"
"Yes, Mr. Pendleton," she replied, rising and returning his handshake.
Aaron strode over to his desk and picked up the phone. "Maya, send Therese in." He replaced it and turned back to the brother and sister. "We need to talk a little, set up the ground rules, and generally agree to how this will work." The knock at the door sounded as a harbinger as a young woman stepped into the office. "Therese, this is Shane McMahon and his sister, Stephanie. Shane, Stephanie, this is Therese Blair. She will be serving as your security."
Stephanie looked Therese over. She thought Therese to be her age or maybe a few years older. They were almost eye to eye in stature but Therese was of slightly smaller build but taller by a few inches, even with Stephanie wearing heels. She had long dark blonde hair pulled back into a low ponytail with a pair of reflective sunglasses perched on her head. She wore a loose navy blue pantsuit and held a leather portfolio in one hand. Therese's hazel eyes were obviously assessing Stephanie as Stephanie was assessing her. The women offered each other their hands and than Therese returned Shane's greeting.
"Let's sit," Aaron spoke. The four gathered around the table and Aaron produced the same portfolio and Therese opened hers, prepared to get down to business.
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"Aaron, how in the hell could you do this to me?" Therese yelled minutes after the McMahons had left. "That woman is the queen bitch of wrestling."
"Therese, somebody had to do it. Sarah has a three-year-old and can't go on the road and—"
"Oh, so my little brother isn't important?" she shot back.
"Think about it," he replied and tapped his temple. "Three or thirteen? Who's going to handle it better?" Therese didn't respond. "Carla is working the Zielenski case and Dinah will be on vacation in a week and half."
"Aaron, I work security. I am not a detective," she angrily replied, pacing in front of him again.
"All I'm asking is that you keep your eyes open as to who it could be while we analyze this letter and hope for another one."
"Fine. I'll be counting every hour on my paycheck and this job better go in my personnel file for next year's evaluation." Aaron nodded, his hands up defensively. "Tell me, you do know who Stephanie McMahon is?" She put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes.
"When did you get into wrestling?"
"I've had to put up with watching wrestling in my house for almost a decade. Besides, it's none of your business and you didn't answer my question."
"I've watched SmackDown! a little," he replied, shrugging his shoulders.
"Then you know nothing," she bluntly stated and stalked out of the office.
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"Shane, I can't do this with that woman. She is the most cold and demanding person I've ever met," Stephanie complained, slipping back into her whiny self that she worked so hard to control over the past year.
"She ranks above Dad?"
"You know what I mean…Did she have a heart underneath that frigidness? 'You'll have to do this and you'll have to do that. I'm the boss. Obey my command,'" Stephanie mocked Therese. "Did you notice the way she talked down to me?"
"I think you're exaggerating a little, Steph. She's just doing her job," Shane replied as if this was another ordinary conversation with his sister.
"I can't handle her twenty-four hours a day. At least I have one more day before the demon is unleashed."
Shane shook his head sadly and followed her into her spacious home. "She wasn't that bad," he called after her as she ascended the steps into her room. Maybe you're just pissed because you've met your match.
Stephanie quickly ran a hot shower. She slid in to let the water massage her body but her mind couldn't be relaxed. No doubt she was frightened by this stalker. She didn't feel safe at the moment even though she had a security system already in place and Aaron had one of his staff sweep the house for security issues and then take up watch from outside. The next "guard" would be Therese and Stephanie hoped they would find common ground and make this time tolerable. At least I got a woman instead of some hulking man, could be worse…I think, she thought to herself.
Stephanie recalled the conversation at the firm, trying to determine if she had left anything out. They had run down the daunting list of suspects—Chris Jericho, Kurt Angle, Undertaker, Brock Lesnar, Eric Bischoff, Triple H—of course—and even her entire family. There were more and she had ticked them off on her fingers, detailing their exploits. Therese's words echoed in her mind, "Ms. McMahon, who haven't you pissed off?" Stephanie was angry at her comment but it was true. Now they had to determine who was pissed off enough to take such actions.
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Therese slammed the door shut behind her and threw her keys in the little bowl on the small table by the door. She stalked on through the apartment, not noticing the lone key that was already in the bowl. She threw her briefcase down on the desk before locking her 9mm Beretta and shoulder holster in the safe beside the desk and continuing her rampage into the kitchen. The sight before her just added fuel to the fire. "Evan Blair!" she yelled and headed straight for the bedroom.
The lean, dark-haired, dark-skinned boy scrambled up at his name and began trying to pick up the dishes scattered around him. "Hey," he said sheepishly, hiding a bag of potato chips and a dirty bowl behind his back.
"Evan, why does it look like a tornado has been through our apartment?"
"Derek came over," he replied, shrugging his shoulders.
"And?"
"And we wrestled some," he answered quietly, staring at the floor.
"And?" she continued, putting her hands on her hips.
"And I tried to make some supper when you weren't home when I thought you were supposed to be." He hung his head and dug his bare toe in the carpet.
"I left a message. Did you check the answering machine?" she asked, her tone much softer.
"I forgot," he mumbled and continued to look down.
"Did you get supper made?"
"Not really. Derek went home because he got hungry." He looked up at her as sad as he could, hoping supper was on the way.
"Do you want McDonald's?" His eyes lit up and he flashed a brilliant smile. "Car or subway?"
"You'll let me ride in the company car?"
"Get your shoes on and let's go," she answered, pointing at his bare feet and jerking her thumb towards the door.
In the car, she asked about his day, as always, and then he asked about hers, wanting to know if work had put her in such a bad mood. "I have bad news, babe."
"What now?" he sighed.
"I'm going to have to spend a couple of weeks on the road, maybe more. Vera will come to stay with you again."
His green eyes lit up again. "It's about time they gave you someone famous. Who is it?"
She knew Evan would love this. "You know you can't breathe—"
"A word of this to anyone," he mocked her, finishing her sentence. "Have I ever?"
"This time more than anytime."
"I'll pinky swear," he quickly said, holding out his pinky finger and almost jumping out of his seat.
As stupid as that sounded, with Evan, Therese knew he was more than serious. "You'll love this—Stephanie McMahon."
"Holy crap! My sister is going to be Stephanie McMahon's bodyguard!"
"Evan, you can't say anything." He had the most painful look on his face. "You know the consequences if—"
"Will you be on TV?" he asked, not letting her finish.
"As little as possible. I'm her friend from college that she's hired as her personal assistant while we…take care of things."
"That'll work perfect since Dawn Marie just chunked on her when she married Al."
"Don't remind me," Therese responded, rolling her eyes.
"We'll have to get you some Dawn Marie dresses."
"And where do you propose I put my gun? Between my boobs?" she asked, sarcastically.
"No, stupid…Wait, if you're a friend from college, you'll probably need to wear outfits like hers. We need to add color to your clothes," Evan added, then stuck out his tongue out between his lips in thought.
"I think mine are fine."
"And make-up, too," he said, ticking off his thoughts on his fingers.
"Evan!"
"Do you have high heels?" Without taking a breath, he continued. "We'll have to stop at Macy's on the way home."
"Evan!"
"Therese!" he shouted back. She sighed and put the car in park, knowing full well he was right.
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TBC…
Author's Note: This fic will not get updated nearly as fast as the first one I posted. I had that one almost completely written before I uploaded it. This one has about three chapters pre-written so far, but I hope that y'all don't have to wait too long between chapters.