Yay, I'm finally posting my new story! It's about time, I know, I know. But here it is! I disclaim everything. The only thing I guess I 'own' is Grace. But, that'd be really weird and I'd rather not own a 4 year old. No thanks. Anyways, enjoy!
Also, more about the characters will be explained in the next chapter or so. So don't worry if you don't understand something right away.
Shane McMahon walked through the glass doors at Titan Towers, a sign escaping his lips. Here he was, at work, on a Saturday, yet again. He was the CEO, the position passed down to him once his father retired, so he had to be there.
The meeting wasn't going well at all. And the fact that he shouldn't have even been working didn't help matters. Three hours into it, he finally called for a lunch break.
He stepped down the steps, going to his a car, a new CL600 Coupe Mercedes. He was a McMahon; he had the best of everything. He slid into the driver's seat and drove off, weaving through the New York City traffic.
Shane drove into Queens, relieved that the area seemed to be relatively empty. He parked his car and got out. The January air wasn't too bad for once, but he still pulled on his leather jacket over his suit. Shrugging his hands into the pockets, he began to walk around the park.
He spotted a Philly Cheesesteak stand and headed over to it. He smiled at the man working and got one of the sandwiches.
"Gracie!" Lilian chased after her four year old daughter. "Grace! If you don't get back here right now I-" She drew to a stop, observing the scene. Her daughter had come upon a fairly handsome looking man eating Grace's favorite food of all time – cheesesteak. "I'm very sorry, sir."
Shane smiled up at the blonde, then turned back to the little girl in front of him whose resemblance to the woman was near exact. "It's quite alright."
"Mom, I want one!"
"No, we're going home for lunch." Lilian grabbed her hand in hers and then looked back at the man. "I am so sorry, she loves those," – she gestured to the sandwich with a nod of her head. "We were just leaving to have lunch."
"Oh," Shane smiled. "She can have mine if that's okay."
"Uh, no thank you," she answered, not wanting to offend him, but letting her daughter eat someone else's food wasn't going to happen.
"Mom, I'm hungry!" Grace pulled on her mother's hand.
"Then let's go back home and we'll eat."
"But I want a cheesesteak!" she whined.
Shane chuckled and stood up. "I'd be happy to get you both one if you'd like."
Before Lilian could answer, Grace's green eyes lit up. "Yeah!"
"C'mon," he said softly, "The place is just over there."
"Oh, trust me, I know. I'm sure I could map out every stand there is in New York City if need be." Lilian laughed and shook her head. "I…okay, sure."
The three began to walk back over to Mike's Philly Cheesesteak. "So she likes these, hmm?" he asked.
"That's an understatement. We go down to Philadelphia every month or so, so that she can have the 'real thing.' Hey Mike!" Lilian said, once they reached the stand.
"Hey Lil, hey there Gracie," Mike Chioda greeted. "Your usual I assume?"
"Can I have extra cheese?" Grace asked.
"Of cou'se you can," the vendor answered.
While he prepared the two sandwiches, Lilian looked Shane over. "It's Saturday, why are you dressed like that?"
He sighed and swallowed his last bite before throwing the wrapper into a trash can. "I'm having a meeting today, unfortunately. It's one of those clients where they won't come Monday through Friday like any normal company."
"Ah, I see, where do you work?"
"Titan Towers."
Lilian's jaw dropped. "Are you serious? What brings you to Flushing?"
He shrugged. "I was just driving and ended up here."
She nodded and went to say something, but Mike presented the warm sandwiches. "There ya go, girls." Shane paid him and the trio stepped away, Gracie happily munching on her sandwich.
"Thank you for lunch. I don't even know your name and you're buying me and my daughter food," she pointed out, laughing a little.
Shane smiled. "I apologize, my name is Shane McMahon."
She gawked at him, and then blinked. "Wow." She knew exactly who he was now, just about everyone in the state of New York did. His father was practically Donald Trump, but with better hair.
"And you are?" he pressed.
"Sorry, I'm Lilian Garcia. And this," she started, pushing her dark haired daughter forwards, "is Grace."
"It is very nice to meet both of you."
Well aren't you the little charmer. "And I don't work at Titan Towers," she joked. "I work at the Queens County Savings Bank as an interpreter."
"An interpreter?"
"Mhm, Spanish. I guess my last name didn't give it away," she added, laughing.
He flashed her with a grin. "I could definitely use you. I might just have to talk to your bank about promoting you. I do own your bank."
"That you do."
"Mum," Grace finally piped up after finishing her last bite. "He on'y wawnts to geet in ya' knickas," she said in a somewhat credible British accent.
Lilian flushed red and had to remind herself to close her mouth. Shane, however was enjoying it, but trying to hide his laughing.
"I…uhm…you'll have to forgive her. She watches a lot of movies and TV, she watched that Spice Girls movie last night," Lilian explained, trying to will the redness in her face away.
Shane finally recovered from laughing. "It's fine, at least she has a personality and won't have any trouble picking things up in school."
"Isn't that something to look forward to," Lilian muttered.
Shane's cell phone started going off. "I'm sorry," he said, flipping the phone open. "Shane McMahon. Yes, I know, I'm on my way back now." He clicked it shut, putting it back in his pocket. "I've got to get back or else they're going to restart the meeting without me. It was very nice meeting you." He looked at Gracie, "And you too," he added, chuckling. "I'll definitely have to give your bank a call sometime about having you come work at Titan. We can work something out I'm sure."
"It was nice meeting you too," Lilian said, unsure of what else to say about his proposition. Before she could even try to think of a response he had already walked back to his car.
She turned around to her daughter. "Graciela Mariah!"
"Yes?"
"That was very rude of you to say that in front of him! We don't even know him."
The little girl frowned. "Sorry, but he was checkin' you out like a bag of groceries."
Lilian groaned, and decided to let it go. She'd never talk to him again anyways. "Why down't we go howme an' mayba hav' some tea an' crumpets?" she asked in her own false British accent.
"That sounds lovely, dahling!"
A few days later, Lilian's phone rang on her desk at the bank. Grunting, she put down the file she was looking over for a loan and picked it up. "Lilian Garcia."
"Hello Lilian, this is Shane McMahon."