Lass Ride: Changing Gears

Chapter 9

Beware of Greeks offering gifts. Becky thought that if you substituted McMahons for Greeks, it would be even more accurate. The sneakers beneath the brief note were sheer perfection: accented in her current gear colours, extra long laces like she preferred, not a stitch out of place. For a moment she was surprised that they were exactly the right size and fit, but since the McMahons would have access to all her measurements for the wardrobe crew, it made sense. Or at least it would have if they had come from Stephanie. But she was more the type to send jewellery or some rare collectible. Shane, on the other hand, was an avowed sneakerhead.

Tucked inside each shoe was a business card. The one in the left was for the designer, listing all her social media accounts on one side; on the other, she scrawled a small note saying she was a big fan and couldn't believe that her favourite wrestler would be wearing one of her designs. The other card was Shane's, and Becky was vaguely surprised to see the WWE logo on it. He had already been out of the company for a few years before she and the Four Horsewomen came and left, and it wasn't something anyone in the company talked much about. Becky thought she heard something about him working with a company in Asia, but otherwise he had received the patented WWE silent treatment, in which they hoped never mentioning a character or storyline would effectively wipe them from most fans' memories. Strangely enough, it often worked; even Becky could attest to forgetting who a former WWE star was until she saw them in an old match on DVD and had to struggle to remember why they left.

It had already been a long day, and she had already dealt with one more McMahon than she wanted to, but Becky's curiosity was piqued. She tried on the shoes first and did a few test walks around the suite before she programmed the number into her phone and called Shane. Since she wasn't sure where he was, she couldn't calculate time zones, but she figured that was his problem. If he wanted a specific time, Becky reasoned as the line rang, he should have given more details.

"Hello?" It wasn't the most formal greeting, but Becky had heard his voice in old clips. More than that, she could recognize the McMahon accent that honed every single syllable.

"Thanks for the shoes." It wasn't the most formal reply either, but Becky wanted to see what his angle was. "What's the occasion?"

Shane laughed. "Right to the point. Typical Becky Lynch. I like it. I'm guessing you know who I am."

Becky gave a small chuckle. "Let's pretend I don't. All I know for sure is that someone sent some custom shoes to me at my hotel. Maybe it's a crazy fan, maybe not. There's lots of S. McMahons out there, I'm sure."

"Touche." Shane cleared his throat. "Yes, this is Shane McMahon. I wasn't intending to make you think it was from Stephanie, if that's what you're thinking. I just didn't want anyone seeing my full name and yours and jumping to conclusions."

Speaking of jumping. . . . Becky did a few experimental hops in her new shoes. They truly were incredible; she could barely tell she had anything on her feet. Before she could get carried away, she forced herself to sit on the bed and take the shoes off, tucking them back in their nondescript box. "Fair enough. So what's the occasion, Shane? I don't think we met when I was wrestling over in Japan, and you had left WWE before I got here, so am I forgetting a time our paths did cross?"

"No, I haven't had the pleasure of meeting you in person yet, but I'd like to change that. I'm guessing you noticed the logo on my business card," Shane added. "I'm back in the fold now, with a bunch of random and pompous letters beside my name."

"Lucky you." Becky tried to soften the edge in her voice. As someone who had worked her whole life to achieve her goals, she didn't have a lot of sympathy for people born into luxury who could drop in and out of the family business on a whim. "If you're looking for shoe models, Carmella would probably be a better candidate."

"Not quite." Becky heard a few beeps on Shane's end, but their connection didn't falter. "I'd like to speak with you in person this week, Becky, if you have some spare time."

"You found my shoe size and specs easily enough," Becky countered, "so I'm sure you know my wrestling schedule." It was a very watered-down version of the back-and-forth jabs she used to have with Dean or Seth, and even though she hadn't parted ways with her friends all that long ago, it made her miss them all the more.

Shane cleared his throat again. "I'd rather not meet in an arena—or on WWE time. It's business related, but my sister doesn't know about it yet and I'd like to keep it that way."

Becky swore under her breath. She had just finished being blackmailed by Stephanie, and she really didn't want to incur her wrath again if she could avoid it. "Aren't you all playing for the same team? Big happy family and all?"

Shane's booming laugh definitely reminded her of Vince's. "If you think the McMahons have ever been a big happy family, you clearly haven't been with the company long enough. Yes, I know Steph's handling some things while Hunter's still in Japan, so I'm absolutely taking advantage of a camp divided. Or at least I'm hoping to. Would you have time to talk? No intimidation, no blackmail, no pressure. You have my word."

Something Shane had said stuck in Becky's head, bumping up against a vague memory. Hunter was still in Japan—and hadn't Shane worked for an Asian-based company after leaving WWE? The two weren't necessarily related, of course: Asia was huge and diverse, and WWE was always trying to expand their global presence. "I'm on the house show card in Nevada on the weekend," she said. "I should be able to have a meeting beforehand." Did he know she was on a very discreet leash? She didn't know and didn't want to ask. If he knew Hunter and Stephanie had something on her, he might try to exploit that. She would have to think of a way to not be followed, though. After seeing the pictures that Stephanie had, she knew she had to be more careful.

"I'll be there for the Saturday show," Shane replied. "How do you feel about brunch?"

"Hungry, usually." Becky's lips twitched when she heard Shane laugh.

"I walked into that one. But yeah, brunch should be good. I don't think we have any promotional events going on before the Saturday show. . . ." There were a few more beeps on his end before he returned. "Nope. Some signings before the Sunday show, but you're not a part of that. I'll look into restaurants and get back to you before Friday. Oh, and Becky? Bring your bike."

"Usually do." After they said their goodbyes and disconnected, Becky glanced down at the shoe box again. Once upon a time, she couldn't get anyone in management to pay attention to her, to believe in her. Now they were all clamouring to talk to her. If Vince sends me a text, she thought incredulously, I will utterly fucking lose it.. She was tempted to call Roman back, or even see if anyone else was still up, but she made herself set her phone on the writing desk. There was nothing to report about Shane yet, and she still hadn't figured out what to do about Stephanie's cryptic offer. Being stuck between McMahons was worse than being between a rock and a hard place; when it came to business, they were unrelenting, and Becky didn't want to get herself—or her friends—caught in the crossfire.