12.26 pm
"But there's no rule that says that we can't do it first," Cindi told Shane.
"I know…"
"So what are you afraid of?"
"Don't the numbers say that we should get the items in this particular order?"
"No… it just means that we have to get them… these are the New York items. As long as we get them, it doesn't matter if we get them in order or not."
"I don't know Cindi…"
"Live a little dangerously Shane. And think about it. You're Shane McMahon, this won't take us more than five minutes."
"Fine… but I want it on record that I'm doing this under duress."
Cindi smiled confidently as she dragged Shane into Trump Towers and went to the front desk and asked for The Donald.
"Do you have an appointment?" the security guard asked.
"No. But I have a question for you, you watch any wrestling?"
"Sometimes, why?"
"You're telling me you don't recognize this man?"
The security guard took a closer look at Shane and recognition colored his features.
"You're the crazy kid, aren't you? The one who makes those fucked up body drops?"
"Yeah."
"Man, you're a nut case! You're rich man, you shouldn't be doing that shit!"
"I know, but it's fun."
"Rich people…"
"I know… we're nuts. Listen, you think we could see Donald for like two minutes? I was in the area and I wanted to drop in and say hi."
The man behind the desk had a few moments of indecision before nodding and picking up a phone from his desk. He spoke quickly and nodded a few times before covering the speaker.
"I'm going to need some ID, please."
"Sure thing," Shane said, pulling out his wallet, "what'll you need?"
"Shane McMahon," Donald Trump said, grinning like a loon, "what are you doing here?"
"If I told you man, you'd know for sure I was nuts. I'm taping this crazy game show called The Hunt and you were on our scavenge list."
"On your scavenge list?"
"Yep… item 15 as a matter of fact. We're to take a picture with The Donald or The Ivana."
"You are kidding me?"
"I wish. Think you can spare us a few minutes?"
"Sure thing. I love taking pictures."
"See," Cindi crowed while she waved around the Polaroid of her, Shane and The Donald, "it was a cinch!"
"I just lost all credibility as a businessman," Shane whined from the passenger seat.
"Aw… how about I promise to make it up to you later?"
Shane watched Cindi's hand as she put down the picture on the dash and brought it down on top of his crotch. His breath caught in his throat and his lips curled into a smile.
"I think we can work something out," he finally said.
"I thought so."