Hey everybody, when you talk the talk ...
Pansy’s mouth turned down as she scanned the sheet in front of her. It wasn’t the first time she’d perused the list of names and descriptions, and it wasn’t the first time that irritation pricked at her. Kevin White had been a fantastic announcer; well known, well loved, competent and, incidentally, one of the few people Pansy had to work with on a regular basis that hadn’t irked her by existing. Soon he would be gone -- and for reasons Pansy couldn’t even begrudge -- and it was now her job to find his replacement. Mid-season, no less.
The whole situation made her cross. Kevin had agreed to stay on until they found someone, had even agreed to let the promising ones announce a game with him as a sort of audition, but it didn’t allay Pansy’s irritation. They were losing an irreplaceable commodity and there was nothing she could do to stop it. It wasn’t as if she could offer Kevin better; for a man of his profession, there was no higher prestige than being the voice of the whole damn league.
“Ms. Parkinson?”
Pansy glanced up, brows raised. “Yes?”
“Your second interview is here. Would you like me to send him in?” Rose Mallory was used to her boss’s capricious moods. She had worked for Gwenog Jones for years, after all, and Ms. Parkinson and the Seeker were more alike than either would ever admit. “He’s a bit early.”
“Better than our first guest yesterday,” Pansy said without amusement. Their first potential was a potential no more. Pansy had no patience for tardiness.
She stirred then, setting the sheet down and shifting the papers in front of her. “I’d like you to prepare tea first. Then you may show him in.”
Rose was brisk about it. The accouterments were set, and as Pansy was stirring the fresh lemon into her steaming tea, her next interview was shown in. “Please, sit,” she said without lifting her gaze.
Jeremy took a seat across from the impressively large desk. It had occurred to him, as he’d been walking into the room, that it was almost amusing how large the desk was and how petite the beauty sitting behind it was. A lesson in opposites. He’d always appreciated such things, but didn’t think it wise to say the like to his possible new boss.
The last time he’d met with the woman hadn’t gone particularly well. He had come out of the occasion with a rather smashing office suite. He didn’t know when he’d be using it, and it wasn’t exactly his taste, but it was very well built and worth the price (and sizable tip) he’d paid. He idly wondered where she’d ended up purchasing the massive desk she sat behind but, again, thought better than to ask.
It wasn’t until he’d heard about the open position and done a bit of research that he’d realized the person he’d be speaking to about the announcer’s position and the woman he’d so thoroughly annoyed at the furniture boutique were the same person. He supposed another man would have looked at the chances of getting the position, given such a horrible first impression had been made, and simply decided not to apply. Jeremy wasn’t like most men. He loved a good challenge and, if he could judge it by the cool air of confidence and superiority the woman behind the desk were displaying, this would be a rather big one.
“I apologize for appearing early, but my father always told me that showing up late to an appointment was showing up late.”
“Yes, generally arriving late is, in fact, considered lateness.” Her voice was dry and unamused as dark eyes flicked over the resume in front of her.
It wasn’t the first time she’d read it, but her gaze stuck on a few things she’d red-marked. Jeremy Zeller. Formerly a musician of an internationally acclaimed band. Currently hosting a night-time radio show. Mr. Zeller was one of the more promising applicants and she’d had a bit of research done on him; Zeller Zone, formally The Twilight Zone, had been losing listeners for nearly a year, but their numbers had increased dramatically since they’d hired Jeremy Zeller. She knew for a fact that other networks were preparing offers. He was a valuable commodity.
She lifted her gaze then. “Well, let’s get start...” her voice trailed off in surprise. She knew him. She knew his face. The sudden, irrational vexation buzzing beneath her skin indicated that it had not been a positive experience.
And then it hit her. The fool at the furniture boutique all those months ago. The fool who was apparently a wizard. A wizard who was one of the best candidates she had.
Pansy’s eyes narrowed. “You.”
Ah. There it was. Recognition. The challenge began. “Jeremy Zeller.” He held out his hand and stood from his chair, but a moment of silence and no movement from behind the desk had him retaking his seat.
“It’s a pleasure to formally make your acquaintance, Miss Parkinson. I’ve heard great things about the Harpies since you’ve taken control of the ship. I might have heard about them through a biased source, but I have no reason to doubt them. This is a rather impressive looking office. I see you were able to acquire a suitable replacement for the office suite you’d been intending to buy the last time we met. I think this one actually harmonizes better in the atmosphere of the room.”
“You’re an ass.” It was absolutely unprofessional. It was improper, especially considering the situation. It was exactly the opposite what she should be saying.
But it felt really good.
“My sister has made me very aware of that on several occasions, yes,” Jeremy responded. He knew his shot at this position was dwindling, but he’d never really known when to shut up. He’d love to get the announcer position - it would give him another avenue to explore, something to keep him from getting bored - but not if it meant having to sacrifice being who he was. One of the reasons he’d gotten into the industry in the first place was because he was allowed and even celebrated for being who and how he was.
If it meant not getting the position, then he’d find something else to do in addition to the wireless show and selling his songs. Something would come up. He was an optimist.
His gaze was level with hers, and she didn’t like his brazenness considering their history. It was true they’d only been in one another’s presence for a few minutes, but it had been an illustrious few minutes; Jeremy Zeller certainly knew how to leave his mark.
And it was that thought, along with the (irritating) calm of his own mien, that made Pansy force the tension out of her shoulders. Think. It wasn’t like her to let her personal feelings so thoroughly invade her business dealings, at least in such an obvious way, and she further relaxed herself, hands unclenching and then folding in front of her. A breath was taken, let out slowly.
“You made quite the impression last we met, Mr. Zeller,” she said finally, voice even now. “It was not positive, as you’re well aware, but you made an impression. You had a few minutes, and I remembered. Despite my personal feelings, I find that is a valuable trait in the man or woman I am looking for. I need someone who our existing fanbase will not forget.” She tried not to glare. “I am hoping for a more positive reaction to our new announcer, however.”
“Despite your personal feelings?” Jeremy asked, sitting back in the chair, leaning to the side as he peered at her with a small amused smile on his face. “You have personal feelings about me?”
He was baiting her. Jeremy knew it was very possible, despite her keen business saavy and understanding of the brand he’d be able to offer her and Harpies, that she’d hex his bollocks off and have security come round to collect him. He wasn’t entirely certain why it was so delicious to see the carnation color pool in the height of her cheeks, but it was. Perhaps it was because she seemed to be so very put together, a picture of modern elegance, that witnessing her react in such a way to simply laying eyes on him had sent a thrill up his arms.
Jeremy Zeller was a performer, after all. He’d most definitely gotten a reaction.
Pansy’s eyes narrowed again, and if it was at all possible to burn someone with a look, Jeremy Zeller would be smoking. She’d tried to forge past her unprofessional beginning. No, her segue into business hadn’t been as proper for the situation as was truly necessary, but she’d tried. Considering that she was nearly seething, it was quite the feat.
And then he’d proven her original statement. He was an ass. And Pansy was pretty sure she couldn’t stand him.
“Do you want this job, or not?” she snapped.
Surprised, certain her finger had been on some mechanism that would have him tossed on his arse in a matter of seconds, Jeremy sat forward in the chair. “Are you offering me the job?” he asked, one eyebrow raised in her direction. She certainly didn’t sound happy about the words coming out of her mouth, but they’d come out all the same.
The challenge had seemed all but lost but perhaps he’d been wrong.
“No, I’m not offering you the job. I want to know if you are seriously entertaining this position, because if you are, you’re doing a poor job of showing respect for the legacy. Kevin White was the last in the long line of the extraordinary and unforgettable -- for gods’ sakes, we’re losing him to the bloody league,” she seethed, more angry than she’d been in longer than she could remember. “If you want this job, then I want to know right now why, dammit. The women on that pitch deserve someone who’s going to put as much of their heart and passion into it as they do.”
“As you can see from the paper in front of you, I am a performer. My job is to be who the audience wants and needs me to be. I want this job because it gives me a new avenue with which to appreciate that relationship. As far as putting passion and heart into the job, I’m not sure if you’ve put two and two together, but my sister is out on that pitch. You won’t find another person more determined to see those ladies thoroughly throunce their opponents, or someone more happy to be a part of it.”
He sat back in his chair. That had gotten a bit more serious than he tended to enjoy. “Besides,” he said with a wave of his hand, “if I hadn’t wanted the job, I wouldn’t have shown up. I knew who I’d be meeting with before I arrived and still had the desire to endeavor against my bad first impression, however damning. Find me another person who would willingly sit in this room after you’d already attempted to eviscerate them with words at their last meeting, and I will step aside.”
Jeremy could have mentioned that he also had several other offers, but suddenly they didn’t seem as shiny as they had before he’d walked through her doors.
“I suppose I am to commend you on your foolish bravery, then,” she said before she could stop herself from spitting out the unseemly comment.
She pressed her lips together then, and glared. The part of her that didn’t like him was screaming at her to have him forcibly tossed from her office, preferably from the window. The part of her that had deftly maneuvered business deals and new marketing contracts for the Harpies was singing a different tune. He could do the job, and he would do it well.
Picking up her quill, Pansy scratched out a note on a piece of vellum parchment and then folded it in half when she was done. Her large leather chair was silent on the carpet as she pushed away from her desk. When she walked around, she dropped the parchment in his lap without looking at him. “If you want this job, it takes more than showing up.”
And with that, she clipped past and exited the room. Pansy couldn’t be in such a confined space with him any longer. Her hand was positively itching for her wand.
The smirk that had threatened to appear in her presence finally blossomed on Jeremy’s face as she left the room. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was holding a slip of paper with a date, time, and place on it. By all accounts, he should have been tossed on his arse numerous times. Apparently breathing the same air as him seemed to make Pansy Parkinson infuriated.
The challenge had seemed too great for even his easy nature and attitude, but this slip of parchment meant there was still a chance he’d snag the job.
A chance was good enough for him.
Hopping out of the chair, even more of a skip in his step than normal, Jeremy made for the exit. As he left Pansy’s office, he caught sight of the raven-haired beauty talking with the nice woman who’d let him into the office in the first place.
“I’ll see you soon, Ms. Parkinson. Ms. Mallory.”
SUMMARY: Pansy’s holding interviews to replace the Harpies’ game announcer, and she is both surprised and irate to learn Jeremy Zeller, the man who insulted her so many months ago, has shown up for the position.
The whole situation made her cross. Kevin had agreed to stay on until they found someone, had even agreed to let the promising ones announce a game with him as a sort of audition, but it didn’t allay Pansy’s irritation. They were losing an irreplaceable commodity and there was nothing she could do to stop it. It wasn’t as if she could offer Kevin better; for a man of his profession, there was no higher prestige than being the voice of the whole damn league.
“Ms. Parkinson?”
Pansy glanced up, brows raised. “Yes?”
“Your second interview is here. Would you like me to send him in?” Rose Mallory was used to her boss’s capricious moods. She had worked for Gwenog Jones for years, after all, and Ms. Parkinson and the Seeker were more alike than either would ever admit. “He’s a bit early.”
“Better than our first guest yesterday,” Pansy said without amusement. Their first potential was a potential no more. Pansy had no patience for tardiness.
She stirred then, setting the sheet down and shifting the papers in front of her. “I’d like you to prepare tea first. Then you may show him in.”
Rose was brisk about it. The accouterments were set, and as Pansy was stirring the fresh lemon into her steaming tea, her next interview was shown in. “Please, sit,” she said without lifting her gaze.
Jeremy took a seat across from the impressively large desk. It had occurred to him, as he’d been walking into the room, that it was almost amusing how large the desk was and how petite the beauty sitting behind it was. A lesson in opposites. He’d always appreciated such things, but didn’t think it wise to say the like to his possible new boss.
The last time he’d met with the woman hadn’t gone particularly well. He had come out of the occasion with a rather smashing office suite. He didn’t know when he’d be using it, and it wasn’t exactly his taste, but it was very well built and worth the price (and sizable tip) he’d paid. He idly wondered where she’d ended up purchasing the massive desk she sat behind but, again, thought better than to ask.
It wasn’t until he’d heard about the open position and done a bit of research that he’d realized the person he’d be speaking to about the announcer’s position and the woman he’d so thoroughly annoyed at the furniture boutique were the same person. He supposed another man would have looked at the chances of getting the position, given such a horrible first impression had been made, and simply decided not to apply. Jeremy wasn’t like most men. He loved a good challenge and, if he could judge it by the cool air of confidence and superiority the woman behind the desk were displaying, this would be a rather big one.
“I apologize for appearing early, but my father always told me that showing up late to an appointment was showing up late.”
“Yes, generally arriving late is, in fact, considered lateness.” Her voice was dry and unamused as dark eyes flicked over the resume in front of her.
It wasn’t the first time she’d read it, but her gaze stuck on a few things she’d red-marked. Jeremy Zeller. Formerly a musician of an internationally acclaimed band. Currently hosting a night-time radio show. Mr. Zeller was one of the more promising applicants and she’d had a bit of research done on him; Zeller Zone, formally The Twilight Zone, had been losing listeners for nearly a year, but their numbers had increased dramatically since they’d hired Jeremy Zeller. She knew for a fact that other networks were preparing offers. He was a valuable commodity.
She lifted her gaze then. “Well, let’s get start...” her voice trailed off in surprise. She knew him. She knew his face. The sudden, irrational vexation buzzing beneath her skin indicated that it had not been a positive experience.
And then it hit her. The fool at the furniture boutique all those months ago. The fool who was apparently a wizard. A wizard who was one of the best candidates she had.
Pansy’s eyes narrowed. “You.”
Ah. There it was. Recognition. The challenge began. “Jeremy Zeller.” He held out his hand and stood from his chair, but a moment of silence and no movement from behind the desk had him retaking his seat.
“It’s a pleasure to formally make your acquaintance, Miss Parkinson. I’ve heard great things about the Harpies since you’ve taken control of the ship. I might have heard about them through a biased source, but I have no reason to doubt them. This is a rather impressive looking office. I see you were able to acquire a suitable replacement for the office suite you’d been intending to buy the last time we met. I think this one actually harmonizes better in the atmosphere of the room.”
“You’re an ass.” It was absolutely unprofessional. It was improper, especially considering the situation. It was exactly the opposite what she should be saying.
But it felt really good.
“My sister has made me very aware of that on several occasions, yes,” Jeremy responded. He knew his shot at this position was dwindling, but he’d never really known when to shut up. He’d love to get the announcer position - it would give him another avenue to explore, something to keep him from getting bored - but not if it meant having to sacrifice being who he was. One of the reasons he’d gotten into the industry in the first place was because he was allowed and even celebrated for being who and how he was.
If it meant not getting the position, then he’d find something else to do in addition to the wireless show and selling his songs. Something would come up. He was an optimist.
His gaze was level with hers, and she didn’t like his brazenness considering their history. It was true they’d only been in one another’s presence for a few minutes, but it had been an illustrious few minutes; Jeremy Zeller certainly knew how to leave his mark.
And it was that thought, along with the (irritating) calm of his own mien, that made Pansy force the tension out of her shoulders. Think. It wasn’t like her to let her personal feelings so thoroughly invade her business dealings, at least in such an obvious way, and she further relaxed herself, hands unclenching and then folding in front of her. A breath was taken, let out slowly.
“You made quite the impression last we met, Mr. Zeller,” she said finally, voice even now. “It was not positive, as you’re well aware, but you made an impression. You had a few minutes, and I remembered. Despite my personal feelings, I find that is a valuable trait in the man or woman I am looking for. I need someone who our existing fanbase will not forget.” She tried not to glare. “I am hoping for a more positive reaction to our new announcer, however.”
“Despite your personal feelings?” Jeremy asked, sitting back in the chair, leaning to the side as he peered at her with a small amused smile on his face. “You have personal feelings about me?”
He was baiting her. Jeremy knew it was very possible, despite her keen business saavy and understanding of the brand he’d be able to offer her and Harpies, that she’d hex his bollocks off and have security come round to collect him. He wasn’t entirely certain why it was so delicious to see the carnation color pool in the height of her cheeks, but it was. Perhaps it was because she seemed to be so very put together, a picture of modern elegance, that witnessing her react in such a way to simply laying eyes on him had sent a thrill up his arms.
Jeremy Zeller was a performer, after all. He’d most definitely gotten a reaction.
Pansy’s eyes narrowed again, and if it was at all possible to burn someone with a look, Jeremy Zeller would be smoking. She’d tried to forge past her unprofessional beginning. No, her segue into business hadn’t been as proper for the situation as was truly necessary, but she’d tried. Considering that she was nearly seething, it was quite the feat.
And then he’d proven her original statement. He was an ass. And Pansy was pretty sure she couldn’t stand him.
“Do you want this job, or not?” she snapped.
Surprised, certain her finger had been on some mechanism that would have him tossed on his arse in a matter of seconds, Jeremy sat forward in the chair. “Are you offering me the job?” he asked, one eyebrow raised in her direction. She certainly didn’t sound happy about the words coming out of her mouth, but they’d come out all the same.
The challenge had seemed all but lost but perhaps he’d been wrong.
“No, I’m not offering you the job. I want to know if you are seriously entertaining this position, because if you are, you’re doing a poor job of showing respect for the legacy. Kevin White was the last in the long line of the extraordinary and unforgettable -- for gods’ sakes, we’re losing him to the bloody league,” she seethed, more angry than she’d been in longer than she could remember. “If you want this job, then I want to know right now why, dammit. The women on that pitch deserve someone who’s going to put as much of their heart and passion into it as they do.”
“As you can see from the paper in front of you, I am a performer. My job is to be who the audience wants and needs me to be. I want this job because it gives me a new avenue with which to appreciate that relationship. As far as putting passion and heart into the job, I’m not sure if you’ve put two and two together, but my sister is out on that pitch. You won’t find another person more determined to see those ladies thoroughly throunce their opponents, or someone more happy to be a part of it.”
He sat back in his chair. That had gotten a bit more serious than he tended to enjoy. “Besides,” he said with a wave of his hand, “if I hadn’t wanted the job, I wouldn’t have shown up. I knew who I’d be meeting with before I arrived and still had the desire to endeavor against my bad first impression, however damning. Find me another person who would willingly sit in this room after you’d already attempted to eviscerate them with words at their last meeting, and I will step aside.”
Jeremy could have mentioned that he also had several other offers, but suddenly they didn’t seem as shiny as they had before he’d walked through her doors.
“I suppose I am to commend you on your foolish bravery, then,” she said before she could stop herself from spitting out the unseemly comment.
She pressed her lips together then, and glared. The part of her that didn’t like him was screaming at her to have him forcibly tossed from her office, preferably from the window. The part of her that had deftly maneuvered business deals and new marketing contracts for the Harpies was singing a different tune. He could do the job, and he would do it well.
Picking up her quill, Pansy scratched out a note on a piece of vellum parchment and then folded it in half when she was done. Her large leather chair was silent on the carpet as she pushed away from her desk. When she walked around, she dropped the parchment in his lap without looking at him. “If you want this job, it takes more than showing up.”
And with that, she clipped past and exited the room. Pansy couldn’t be in such a confined space with him any longer. Her hand was positively itching for her wand.
The smirk that had threatened to appear in her presence finally blossomed on Jeremy’s face as she left the room. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was holding a slip of paper with a date, time, and place on it. By all accounts, he should have been tossed on his arse numerous times. Apparently breathing the same air as him seemed to make Pansy Parkinson infuriated.
The challenge had seemed too great for even his easy nature and attitude, but this slip of parchment meant there was still a chance he’d snag the job.
A chance was good enough for him.
Hopping out of the chair, even more of a skip in his step than normal, Jeremy made for the exit. As he left Pansy’s office, he caught sight of the raven-haired beauty talking with the nice woman who’d let him into the office in the first place.
“I’ll see you soon, Ms. Parkinson. Ms. Mallory.”
SUMMARY: Pansy’s holding interviews to replace the Harpies’ game announcer, and she is both surprised and irate to learn Jeremy Zeller, the man who insulted her so many months ago, has shown up for the position.