You can’t just beat a team ...
Jeremy marched down the halls of Harpies stadium toward the announcer’s box. He could feel the hum of the crowds just beyond the tastefully decorated walls even though the noise was deafened by heavy silencing charms. It was an exciting day. The Harpies’ first game back after winter break and it was against one of their biggest rivals. That he was getting to announce the match along with Kevin White - the man, the myth, and the legend - made it an exciting day for the eldest Zeller as well.
He had a good memory and made his way through the winding halls toward his final destination. Jeremy had come to the stadium earlier in the week and received quite the informative tour of the Harpies empire from Ms. Rose Mallory, Pansy Parkinson’s very fit secretary. It had been friendly, informative, and enjoyable, only dampened slightly by the knowledge that Ms. Mallory was involved with someone. While she’d appreciated his attentions and unabashed flirting, her heart belonged to another.
His heart broken, but not destroyed, Jeremy’s rallied and committed the layout of Harpies stadium to memory. Remembering directions was a bit like reading music to him; he tended to let his fingers do the remembering instead of his head when he played music, and finding his way to the announcer’s booth was much the same, only with his feet taking him the right direction.
Pushing open the double doors, he took a deep breath as the whole of the pitch was spread out before him through the large, expansive windows. Fans were beginning to fill the stadium even though the game was a good hour away. The color scheme was dominated by greens and yellows today; while the Harpies’ colors were dark green with a golden talon, the Kestrals wore emerald green robes with two yellow ‘K’s on the back. Even with the colliding colors, the allegiance and loyalty to the only all-woman’s quidditch team was palpable.
Jeremy dropped his leather bag on a table, the research he’d gathered on the team ready and prepared to be used during the broadcast, and moved closer to the glass separating him from the energy buzzing below. His palms pressed against the cool divider, his forehead following a second later. He’d been this high before, sitting in the very back of the stadium with his family at a Portsmouth match, but being on the half-line and having it all right there was something else entirely.
“Magnificent, isn’t it?”
Turning, Jeremy gave Kevin White a large smile. “That it is,” he answered. He grasped Kevin’s hand when it was offered and shook briskly. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir.”
“Likewise, Mr. Zeller. My daughter had told me much about you.”
Jeremy’s brows raised in surprise. “Your daughter? Have we met?”
“I don’t believe so, but she has posters of you taped to her wall back at home. She owns all your records and has informed me that if I do not acquire an autograph before you leave that my fatherly duties may be called into question.”
Laughing, Jeremy clapped the older man on the shoulder. “Well, we’ll have to make sure you win ‘Father of the Year’ then, won’t we?”
*~*~*~*~*
“Oooh, that didn’t look very good for Mitchell of the Kestrals. Dolly LaVigne sure knows how to knock that bludger with a bit of fire,” Jeremy said, wincing as the fast-hit ball knocked one of the Kestral’s chasers from the line towards the hoops at the Harpies’ end of the pitch.
“Ms. LaVigne has been with the team for eight years, and in that time she has built up quite the following.”
“I know I was excited when she transferred from the American League. She was quite impressive over there, but I don’t mind saying that I think the English weather suits her.”
The game had been exciting so far. The Harpies were down by thirty points, but they’d been battling hard since the match had started. The driving, freezing rain that had started a half-hour in hadn’t helped matters much, but it had given the whole atmosphere a war-like feeling.
“It appears that Richards may have spotted the snitch. He’s gone into a quick dive toward the slosh-filled grass with Jones right on his twigs.” Jeremy leaned forward to watch their descent toward the ground. “Jones seems to have realized Richards is chasing nothing, however, and has pulled up. She’s scanning the skies from below.”
“It’s likely Richards was attempting to tire her out.”
“Obviously he’s forgotten how much endurance the Harpies’ seeker’s gained over her extensive and impressive career,” he added to Kevin’s comment, shaking his head. “While the Harpies’ might not have the winningest history in the league, much of what success they’ve gotten in the last twenty-years is because of Gweong Jones’ devotion to the team.”
“Captain and heart of the team, that one.”
“A beautiful player I’m sure you’ll miss watching every game when you make the move to the big leagues, eh Mr. White?”
“You’re utterly correct, Mr. Zeller. It’s been a privilege being able to work with such amazing women and come to know them on a personal level. Whoever replaces me in this honored booth had better show the same respect and love for this team as I have over the years.”
“I think I speak for the entire Harpies’ fanbase when I say that no one will be able to replace you, Kevin. The person who comes after you can only hope to be half as talented and gracious .” Jeremy grinned in Kevin’s direction, earning a small smirk in return.
Turning back to the action on the pitch, Jeremy’s blue gazed locked onto the colors highlighted against the dreary grey background. “Looks like the Harpies are on the move. Fabriana has the quaffle clutched tightly to her side and is streaking towards the Kestral’s hoops. Mina Brooks has taken up a spot on her right.”
The corner of Jeremy’s mouth turned up when he saw a head of bright red hair move to Fabriana’s left. Rose had scored quite a few points so far today, and it continued to make him swell with pride every time she sent the quaffle past the Kestral’s keeper and through one of those hoops.
“And it looks like Rose Zeller, who I believe you have the honor of calling your little sister, has moved into the other flanking position behind Fabriana.”
“She always did know how to make an entrance. Mina peels off for a second to avoid the well-placed hit from a Kestral’s beater, but returns to her spot without much deviance.” Jeremy leaned forward in the booth, invested in the game a little more than an average announcer might have been.
“The Kestrals have sent their chasers up in an attempt to steal the quaffle. They’re streaming head-on toward the trio of Harpies, not slowing down. We may be in for a small game of chicken, ladies and gentlemen.” Kevin White sat back in his chair, happy to let Zeller take the lead for a little bit. They’d shared easy dialogue back and forth since the start of the game, something that didn’t always come easily when announcing with someone for the first time.
“Fabriana and Mina have moved closer together, almost flying in tandem. Rose is just a few feet back, her right shoulder even with the bristles of her fellow chaser’s brooms. All three Kestral chasers are playing a dangerous game as they fly straight ahead, intent to break up the Harpies tight-formed trio.
Oh! A bludger appears from the left side of the pitch and takes out one of the Kestral’s chasers - Brody? - forcing him out of the boundaries of the stadium and out of the action. A well-placed and well-timed knock by the Harpies’ latest acquisition, Angelina Johnson!
The Kestrals continue to intimidate the trio of Harpies’ chasers but it doesn’t appear as if either side intend on pulling out. Wait! Mina Brooks has grabbed hold of Fabriana’s broomstick! Both ladies swing to their left and come to a full stop directly in front of the racing Kestral chasers!
The Kestral chasers don’t know what to do. Miggs pulls left, Adams right - and they’ve crashed into each other!”
Jeremy jumped to his feet with most of the crowd as the Kestral’s chasers crashed in midair, their yellow robes wrapping around each other as they began to fall toward the pitch below.
“It will take some maneuvering to untangle themselves from that mess! In the meantime, Fabriana has passed the quaffle to Rose, who easily passes the quaffle past the Kestral’s keeper! Ten points to the Harpies!”
Unconcerned with sounding biased, Jeremy let out a loud whoop of happiness as he turned to Kevin for a high five.
“The Harpies once again show their ability to work as a team to get the score. It was a great build-up and a superb result,” Kevin added with a small laugh as Jeremy continued to high-five the small group of assorted people that joined them in the booth.
Gaze turning back to the windows, an impossibly wide grin on his face, Jeremy moved around the tables and took a position closer to the action. A streak of dark-green passed inches away from him on the other side glass, headed straight up.
“Looks like Jones has caught sight of something. She’s flying hard and fast straight up. It looks like Richards has finally realized she’s onto something, but it may already be too late. Jones’ speed is intense as she rolls around Dolly, all eyes on the elusive golden ball.”
“If she’s spotted the snitch, it’s only a matter of time,” Kevin added.
“Yes. Jones’ statistics on losing the snitch after a sighting are one of the lowest in the league,” Jeremy agreed, arms crossing his over his chest as he watched the Harpies’ seeker fly and spin through the flags fluttering harshly in the rain and wind.
“She’s veering back toward the half-line as the Harpies’ chasers are making another run on the Kestral hoops. Mina has the quaffle. She throws it to Rose as Miggs cuts off her route. Rose rushes forward, quaffle clutched against her chest. A bludger knocks into her shoulder - Oi! That’s my baby sister! - and she drops the quaffle, but Fabriana is right there to pick it up! She cocks her arm back and lets it fly! And it’s a gorgeous save from Piggot. The Kestral’s keeper has done quite the job today.
The Harpies still trail by ten points, but they are quickly closing the gap. But it doesn’t matter! Gwen Jones has finally caught the snitch! The Harpies win!”
Like the crowd in the stands, Jeremy cheers for the home team as they gather in the center of the pitch in celebration. “Oh, that was a cracker of a game! Both teams played beautifully through the wind and the rain, but the Harpies were able to pull it out despite being down for most of the game. An amazing game here at Harpies stadium.”
“An auspicious and favorable start to the spring season for the ladies of the Harpies and a commendable performance on the part of the Kestrals. We can only hope the rest of the games this season are as exciting.”
“I don’t know if I could handle it if all the games are this exciting, Kevin,” Jeremy said with a laugh, “but it was thoroughly entertaining.”
“Hopefully it didn’t scare you off from announcing in the future. On behalf of the staff here at the Harpies, we thank the fans for their support. At the end of the day, the Harpies beat the Kestrals by 160 points. For Jeremy Zeller and the rest of the crew, I’m Kevin White.”
After their sonorus spells had been broken, Jeremy shook Kevin’s hand with a grin. “That was amazing. You really do have the best view in the world.”
“I do,” Kevin agreed with a nod of his head, “and one of the best jobs. Hopefully you’re still interested in the position. You did very well today.”
Jeremy shrugged his shoulders. “I’d love the job, but we’ll see how well I performed. It’s the bosslady I need to have impressed, not just the fans. And, speaking of fans...” Bending, Jeremy reached into his bag and pulled out a guitar. “It’s one of my older guitars. I carry it with me everywhere, just in case a song refuses to wait until I get home. What’s her name?”
“Nora.”
He scrawled a message to Nora across the body of the guitar before holding it out to Kevin, pulling it back a second before the announcer could grab it. “I’ll trade you. This for one of your autographs.”
Kevin laughed as he grabbed for a pen. “Who should I make it out to?”
“Um... a friend. His name is Jeremy, too,” he answered with a grin.
*~*~*~*~*
Pansy was scowling.
She had no reason to be so cross. They’d won in front of a sold out crowd, and even when the rain and wind had started early on, their stands had stayed full. The improvements she’d commissioned in the last year to improve the weather wards had kept their stadium full from the beginning to the end of games. She didn’t know why it hadn’t been done before she’d taken over ownership of the team -- no, she did. Patrick hadn’t given a whit, and even if he’d paid the club half a thought such things wouldn’t have ever occurred to him.
But the win, the crowds … she should be pleased.
When the door opened and a light step headed toward her, Pansy didn’t move her stare from the expansive windows before her. The stands were empty now, and the only thing to see from her private box was the storm.
“And?”
Rose’s voice was even when she replied. “Exit polls are showing an eighty-seven percent positive impression at this point, and there was a twenty-two percent increase in listenership on the wireless coverage of the game over last year’s spring opener. Admittedly, we played the Canons last year and that game is traditionally our lowest turnout on air.”
Pansy’s jaw clenched.
“And if I may?”
The dark haired woman’s eyes shot to her secretary. “You’re going to anyway.”
“Yes,” Rose Mallory said calmly. She’d found with Gwenog Jones that to keep her voice, appearance and energy calm was the most efficient way to deal with her when she was in a particularly foul mood after a loss. Working with Pansy Parkinson was much the same, though her new boss was much more prone to being cross.
“Speak then, or leave before I rid of you permanently.” It was an empty threat and they both knew it, but it made Pansy feel better to say it.
“Mr. Zeller is well known in other industries, and the word that he announced today’s game has only just begun to spread. I suspect that should he announce another game, the percentages would increase again as his own fans come out to rally for him.”
Pansy had a headache.
“That will be all, Ms. Mallory.”
Rose left as quietly as she’d come.
She’d done this to herself. Pansy could have told Jeremy Zeller to leave her office and never step foot in her stadium again. She could have had the last word with the insufferable man. It was what she’d wanted.
However, she knew that if she removed her personal feelings on the matter, that of all the candidates they’d had, he was the most promising. Before meeting him in person, she’d been looking forward to the interview. He had everything she was looking for -- a name of his own, experience, and a fresh perspective and voice, not to mention an existing personal investment in the team given his sister was one of her chasers. On paper, he’d been perfect.
It was why, despite her personal feelings on the matter, she’d put him in the announcer’s box with Kevin White. If she’d had him thrown from her office, she would have wondered if she’d just lost the best investment for the club because of her temper. If, however, he failed on his own after she gave him a chance, then she could rest easy in ordering he never step foot in the Harpies’ corporate offices ever again.
She had been hoping he would fail.
Now it would be even more difficult to write him off. She wanted to dismiss him on principle, but now she’d gone and made the potential investment public.
“Good gods, he’s not even here and he’s pissing me off,” she growled to herself as she stood and paced to the window.
The door opened again then, and a glance over her shoulder revealed an impeccably dressed Gwenog Jones. “Shouldn’t you be in press conferences, Jones?”
“Not before I tell you that you’re a fool if you don’t hire the Zeller boy.”
Pansy glared at the older woman. “It’s none of your concern. You’re job is to find talent, nurture talent, and catch the bloody snitch.”
Gwen raised a brow. “You’re right. My job is, indeed, to find talent. Which is why I’m not going to say nothing when you’re a breath away from throwing it away because you’re in a snit.”
Pansy’s mouth thinned. “Ms. Mallory needs to keep her thoughts to herself.”
“Ms. Mallory needs to continue to do her job as competently as she ever has.” Most days Gwen was glad Pansy Parkinson was now the owner of the Harpies. She was shrewd, competent, and thought of the girls on the team when she made decisions. She was also still very young, impetuous, and damaged. Gwen didn’t want to know what had caused the chip on the younger woman’s shoulder, but it was this side of her that made her impossible to be around at times.
“It is ultimately your choice,” Gwen finally said after a long moment had passed, “but if you make that choice because your pride was wounded, then you’re nothing but the foolish, arrogant aristocrat your critics name you. You will be making a choice that only benefits your own vanity. After what he did today, he will be picked up by another franchise, and the team and the club will lose.”
Gwen didn’t expect Pansy to say anything in return. In her place, Gwen knew she would be wanting her wand, and wishing deeply to release a hex. “I do hope you make the smart decision. I’ll see you on Monday.”
And with that, Gwen left.
Only when the tap of Gwen’s heels completely disappeared did Pansy let loose what she’d wanted to say. “Bitch.”
SUMMARY: Jeremy announces the first Harpie’s game in the spring season. He does really well. Pansy is pissy and Gwen is reasonable.
He had a good memory and made his way through the winding halls toward his final destination. Jeremy had come to the stadium earlier in the week and received quite the informative tour of the Harpies empire from Ms. Rose Mallory, Pansy Parkinson’s very fit secretary. It had been friendly, informative, and enjoyable, only dampened slightly by the knowledge that Ms. Mallory was involved with someone. While she’d appreciated his attentions and unabashed flirting, her heart belonged to another.
His heart broken, but not destroyed, Jeremy’s rallied and committed the layout of Harpies stadium to memory. Remembering directions was a bit like reading music to him; he tended to let his fingers do the remembering instead of his head when he played music, and finding his way to the announcer’s booth was much the same, only with his feet taking him the right direction.
Pushing open the double doors, he took a deep breath as the whole of the pitch was spread out before him through the large, expansive windows. Fans were beginning to fill the stadium even though the game was a good hour away. The color scheme was dominated by greens and yellows today; while the Harpies’ colors were dark green with a golden talon, the Kestrals wore emerald green robes with two yellow ‘K’s on the back. Even with the colliding colors, the allegiance and loyalty to the only all-woman’s quidditch team was palpable.
Jeremy dropped his leather bag on a table, the research he’d gathered on the team ready and prepared to be used during the broadcast, and moved closer to the glass separating him from the energy buzzing below. His palms pressed against the cool divider, his forehead following a second later. He’d been this high before, sitting in the very back of the stadium with his family at a Portsmouth match, but being on the half-line and having it all right there was something else entirely.
“Magnificent, isn’t it?”
Turning, Jeremy gave Kevin White a large smile. “That it is,” he answered. He grasped Kevin’s hand when it was offered and shook briskly. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir.”
“Likewise, Mr. Zeller. My daughter had told me much about you.”
Jeremy’s brows raised in surprise. “Your daughter? Have we met?”
“I don’t believe so, but she has posters of you taped to her wall back at home. She owns all your records and has informed me that if I do not acquire an autograph before you leave that my fatherly duties may be called into question.”
Laughing, Jeremy clapped the older man on the shoulder. “Well, we’ll have to make sure you win ‘Father of the Year’ then, won’t we?”
*~*~*~*~*
“Oooh, that didn’t look very good for Mitchell of the Kestrals. Dolly LaVigne sure knows how to knock that bludger with a bit of fire,” Jeremy said, wincing as the fast-hit ball knocked one of the Kestral’s chasers from the line towards the hoops at the Harpies’ end of the pitch.
“Ms. LaVigne has been with the team for eight years, and in that time she has built up quite the following.”
“I know I was excited when she transferred from the American League. She was quite impressive over there, but I don’t mind saying that I think the English weather suits her.”
The game had been exciting so far. The Harpies were down by thirty points, but they’d been battling hard since the match had started. The driving, freezing rain that had started a half-hour in hadn’t helped matters much, but it had given the whole atmosphere a war-like feeling.
“It appears that Richards may have spotted the snitch. He’s gone into a quick dive toward the slosh-filled grass with Jones right on his twigs.” Jeremy leaned forward to watch their descent toward the ground. “Jones seems to have realized Richards is chasing nothing, however, and has pulled up. She’s scanning the skies from below.”
“It’s likely Richards was attempting to tire her out.”
“Obviously he’s forgotten how much endurance the Harpies’ seeker’s gained over her extensive and impressive career,” he added to Kevin’s comment, shaking his head. “While the Harpies’ might not have the winningest history in the league, much of what success they’ve gotten in the last twenty-years is because of Gweong Jones’ devotion to the team.”
“Captain and heart of the team, that one.”
“A beautiful player I’m sure you’ll miss watching every game when you make the move to the big leagues, eh Mr. White?”
“You’re utterly correct, Mr. Zeller. It’s been a privilege being able to work with such amazing women and come to know them on a personal level. Whoever replaces me in this honored booth had better show the same respect and love for this team as I have over the years.”
“I think I speak for the entire Harpies’ fanbase when I say that no one will be able to replace you, Kevin. The person who comes after you can only hope to be half as talented and gracious .” Jeremy grinned in Kevin’s direction, earning a small smirk in return.
Turning back to the action on the pitch, Jeremy’s blue gazed locked onto the colors highlighted against the dreary grey background. “Looks like the Harpies are on the move. Fabriana has the quaffle clutched tightly to her side and is streaking towards the Kestral’s hoops. Mina Brooks has taken up a spot on her right.”
The corner of Jeremy’s mouth turned up when he saw a head of bright red hair move to Fabriana’s left. Rose had scored quite a few points so far today, and it continued to make him swell with pride every time she sent the quaffle past the Kestral’s keeper and through one of those hoops.
“And it looks like Rose Zeller, who I believe you have the honor of calling your little sister, has moved into the other flanking position behind Fabriana.”
“She always did know how to make an entrance. Mina peels off for a second to avoid the well-placed hit from a Kestral’s beater, but returns to her spot without much deviance.” Jeremy leaned forward in the booth, invested in the game a little more than an average announcer might have been.
“The Kestrals have sent their chasers up in an attempt to steal the quaffle. They’re streaming head-on toward the trio of Harpies, not slowing down. We may be in for a small game of chicken, ladies and gentlemen.” Kevin White sat back in his chair, happy to let Zeller take the lead for a little bit. They’d shared easy dialogue back and forth since the start of the game, something that didn’t always come easily when announcing with someone for the first time.
“Fabriana and Mina have moved closer together, almost flying in tandem. Rose is just a few feet back, her right shoulder even with the bristles of her fellow chaser’s brooms. All three Kestral chasers are playing a dangerous game as they fly straight ahead, intent to break up the Harpies tight-formed trio.
Oh! A bludger appears from the left side of the pitch and takes out one of the Kestral’s chasers - Brody? - forcing him out of the boundaries of the stadium and out of the action. A well-placed and well-timed knock by the Harpies’ latest acquisition, Angelina Johnson!
The Kestrals continue to intimidate the trio of Harpies’ chasers but it doesn’t appear as if either side intend on pulling out. Wait! Mina Brooks has grabbed hold of Fabriana’s broomstick! Both ladies swing to their left and come to a full stop directly in front of the racing Kestral chasers!
The Kestral chasers don’t know what to do. Miggs pulls left, Adams right - and they’ve crashed into each other!”
Jeremy jumped to his feet with most of the crowd as the Kestral’s chasers crashed in midair, their yellow robes wrapping around each other as they began to fall toward the pitch below.
“It will take some maneuvering to untangle themselves from that mess! In the meantime, Fabriana has passed the quaffle to Rose, who easily passes the quaffle past the Kestral’s keeper! Ten points to the Harpies!”
Unconcerned with sounding biased, Jeremy let out a loud whoop of happiness as he turned to Kevin for a high five.
“The Harpies once again show their ability to work as a team to get the score. It was a great build-up and a superb result,” Kevin added with a small laugh as Jeremy continued to high-five the small group of assorted people that joined them in the booth.
Gaze turning back to the windows, an impossibly wide grin on his face, Jeremy moved around the tables and took a position closer to the action. A streak of dark-green passed inches away from him on the other side glass, headed straight up.
“Looks like Jones has caught sight of something. She’s flying hard and fast straight up. It looks like Richards has finally realized she’s onto something, but it may already be too late. Jones’ speed is intense as she rolls around Dolly, all eyes on the elusive golden ball.”
“If she’s spotted the snitch, it’s only a matter of time,” Kevin added.
“Yes. Jones’ statistics on losing the snitch after a sighting are one of the lowest in the league,” Jeremy agreed, arms crossing his over his chest as he watched the Harpies’ seeker fly and spin through the flags fluttering harshly in the rain and wind.
“She’s veering back toward the half-line as the Harpies’ chasers are making another run on the Kestral hoops. Mina has the quaffle. She throws it to Rose as Miggs cuts off her route. Rose rushes forward, quaffle clutched against her chest. A bludger knocks into her shoulder - Oi! That’s my baby sister! - and she drops the quaffle, but Fabriana is right there to pick it up! She cocks her arm back and lets it fly! And it’s a gorgeous save from Piggot. The Kestral’s keeper has done quite the job today.
The Harpies still trail by ten points, but they are quickly closing the gap. But it doesn’t matter! Gwen Jones has finally caught the snitch! The Harpies win!”
Like the crowd in the stands, Jeremy cheers for the home team as they gather in the center of the pitch in celebration. “Oh, that was a cracker of a game! Both teams played beautifully through the wind and the rain, but the Harpies were able to pull it out despite being down for most of the game. An amazing game here at Harpies stadium.”
“An auspicious and favorable start to the spring season for the ladies of the Harpies and a commendable performance on the part of the Kestrals. We can only hope the rest of the games this season are as exciting.”
“I don’t know if I could handle it if all the games are this exciting, Kevin,” Jeremy said with a laugh, “but it was thoroughly entertaining.”
“Hopefully it didn’t scare you off from announcing in the future. On behalf of the staff here at the Harpies, we thank the fans for their support. At the end of the day, the Harpies beat the Kestrals by 160 points. For Jeremy Zeller and the rest of the crew, I’m Kevin White.”
After their sonorus spells had been broken, Jeremy shook Kevin’s hand with a grin. “That was amazing. You really do have the best view in the world.”
“I do,” Kevin agreed with a nod of his head, “and one of the best jobs. Hopefully you’re still interested in the position. You did very well today.”
Jeremy shrugged his shoulders. “I’d love the job, but we’ll see how well I performed. It’s the bosslady I need to have impressed, not just the fans. And, speaking of fans...” Bending, Jeremy reached into his bag and pulled out a guitar. “It’s one of my older guitars. I carry it with me everywhere, just in case a song refuses to wait until I get home. What’s her name?”
“Nora.”
He scrawled a message to Nora across the body of the guitar before holding it out to Kevin, pulling it back a second before the announcer could grab it. “I’ll trade you. This for one of your autographs.”
Kevin laughed as he grabbed for a pen. “Who should I make it out to?”
“Um... a friend. His name is Jeremy, too,” he answered with a grin.
*~*~*~*~*
Pansy was scowling.
She had no reason to be so cross. They’d won in front of a sold out crowd, and even when the rain and wind had started early on, their stands had stayed full. The improvements she’d commissioned in the last year to improve the weather wards had kept their stadium full from the beginning to the end of games. She didn’t know why it hadn’t been done before she’d taken over ownership of the team -- no, she did. Patrick hadn’t given a whit, and even if he’d paid the club half a thought such things wouldn’t have ever occurred to him.
But the win, the crowds … she should be pleased.
When the door opened and a light step headed toward her, Pansy didn’t move her stare from the expansive windows before her. The stands were empty now, and the only thing to see from her private box was the storm.
“And?”
Rose’s voice was even when she replied. “Exit polls are showing an eighty-seven percent positive impression at this point, and there was a twenty-two percent increase in listenership on the wireless coverage of the game over last year’s spring opener. Admittedly, we played the Canons last year and that game is traditionally our lowest turnout on air.”
Pansy’s jaw clenched.
“And if I may?”
The dark haired woman’s eyes shot to her secretary. “You’re going to anyway.”
“Yes,” Rose Mallory said calmly. She’d found with Gwenog Jones that to keep her voice, appearance and energy calm was the most efficient way to deal with her when she was in a particularly foul mood after a loss. Working with Pansy Parkinson was much the same, though her new boss was much more prone to being cross.
“Speak then, or leave before I rid of you permanently.” It was an empty threat and they both knew it, but it made Pansy feel better to say it.
“Mr. Zeller is well known in other industries, and the word that he announced today’s game has only just begun to spread. I suspect that should he announce another game, the percentages would increase again as his own fans come out to rally for him.”
Pansy had a headache.
“That will be all, Ms. Mallory.”
Rose left as quietly as she’d come.
She’d done this to herself. Pansy could have told Jeremy Zeller to leave her office and never step foot in her stadium again. She could have had the last word with the insufferable man. It was what she’d wanted.
However, she knew that if she removed her personal feelings on the matter, that of all the candidates they’d had, he was the most promising. Before meeting him in person, she’d been looking forward to the interview. He had everything she was looking for -- a name of his own, experience, and a fresh perspective and voice, not to mention an existing personal investment in the team given his sister was one of her chasers. On paper, he’d been perfect.
It was why, despite her personal feelings on the matter, she’d put him in the announcer’s box with Kevin White. If she’d had him thrown from her office, she would have wondered if she’d just lost the best investment for the club because of her temper. If, however, he failed on his own after she gave him a chance, then she could rest easy in ordering he never step foot in the Harpies’ corporate offices ever again.
She had been hoping he would fail.
Now it would be even more difficult to write him off. She wanted to dismiss him on principle, but now she’d gone and made the potential investment public.
“Good gods, he’s not even here and he’s pissing me off,” she growled to herself as she stood and paced to the window.
The door opened again then, and a glance over her shoulder revealed an impeccably dressed Gwenog Jones. “Shouldn’t you be in press conferences, Jones?”
“Not before I tell you that you’re a fool if you don’t hire the Zeller boy.”
Pansy glared at the older woman. “It’s none of your concern. You’re job is to find talent, nurture talent, and catch the bloody snitch.”
Gwen raised a brow. “You’re right. My job is, indeed, to find talent. Which is why I’m not going to say nothing when you’re a breath away from throwing it away because you’re in a snit.”
Pansy’s mouth thinned. “Ms. Mallory needs to keep her thoughts to herself.”
“Ms. Mallory needs to continue to do her job as competently as she ever has.” Most days Gwen was glad Pansy Parkinson was now the owner of the Harpies. She was shrewd, competent, and thought of the girls on the team when she made decisions. She was also still very young, impetuous, and damaged. Gwen didn’t want to know what had caused the chip on the younger woman’s shoulder, but it was this side of her that made her impossible to be around at times.
“It is ultimately your choice,” Gwen finally said after a long moment had passed, “but if you make that choice because your pride was wounded, then you’re nothing but the foolish, arrogant aristocrat your critics name you. You will be making a choice that only benefits your own vanity. After what he did today, he will be picked up by another franchise, and the team and the club will lose.”
Gwen didn’t expect Pansy to say anything in return. In her place, Gwen knew she would be wanting her wand, and wishing deeply to release a hex. “I do hope you make the smart decision. I’ll see you on Monday.”
And with that, Gwen left.
Only when the tap of Gwen’s heels completely disappeared did Pansy let loose what she’d wanted to say. “Bitch.”
SUMMARY: Jeremy announces the first Harpie’s game in the spring season. He does really well. Pansy is pissy and Gwen is reasonable.