Closed: PR nightmare
Try as he might to focus on the view of London from his agent's wide, wall-to-wall windows, Roger could only block out so much. He'd been through a lot with this woman, but he'd never heard her quite so ... shrill. Including the time he'd been personally escorted right out of Ireland. Then again, no one had known who he was at the time, him being an alternate that was only starting periodically at the time.
"Do you have any idea what this is going to do?" The tall, slim woman asked, pacing across the open space in front of the windows Roger wanted to get lost in.
"Dahlia."
She huffed, turning with her hands firmly on her hips and her eyebrows drawn. "No, but really. Do you know? Because I don't have time to write up a whole release before someone else gets their hands on this. The Victoria Club, Roger, honestly?"
Finally giving it up, Roger sighed and turned his eyes back to her. "I'm not apologizing for making you do your job, you know."
"This isn't about that." Dahlia stabbed a stern finger through the air. "This is about not giving me notice so I can do my job well. A wedding, Davies. We could have had a wedding. Made it a whole affair. Turned it into a way to get extra attention and press for the team. A right bloody love story you've handed me and taken it away before I can use it to your advantage."
Shoving up from his chair, Roger tried to keep his cool. They'd had a hundred conversations similar to this over the years, Roger always wanting privacy and Dahlia, without fail, trying to find a way to turn something into a money making scheme.
"Again. My life is not a media spectacle to get you a higher cut." Of all the things concerning him - how Lavender would adjust to actually being a definite in Lily's life, if Maeve was going to calm down, what the Brown and Davies families would have to say - what the general public thought was beyond him. Why should people he'd never met matter?
"No, right now it's a PR nightmare."
There was a sharp knock on the door - four taps - indicating there was an owl just in and the secretary needed to know what to do with it. Dahlia looked conflicted, and Roger realized he must not be her only player crisis this morning. In the grand scheme, this wasn't actually a crisis.
"I'll leave you to the drunken arrests. I need to see my family and other people whose opinions actually matter." His expression was unimpressed but as stern as he could make it. The look had nothing on the one Dahlia offered in return, but Roger tried to ignore that as he pulled his coat from the rack by the door and shrugged it on.
"Can I at least talk you into a very large, very public reception?" There were a few taps, Dahlia hitting a pen against her desk - in favor of throwing it at Roger's head, probably.
Without turning around, Roger shrugged. "Maybe. We'll see."
"Do you have any idea what this is going to do?" The tall, slim woman asked, pacing across the open space in front of the windows Roger wanted to get lost in.
"Dahlia."
She huffed, turning with her hands firmly on her hips and her eyebrows drawn. "No, but really. Do you know? Because I don't have time to write up a whole release before someone else gets their hands on this. The Victoria Club, Roger, honestly?"
Finally giving it up, Roger sighed and turned his eyes back to her. "I'm not apologizing for making you do your job, you know."
"This isn't about that." Dahlia stabbed a stern finger through the air. "This is about not giving me notice so I can do my job well. A wedding, Davies. We could have had a wedding. Made it a whole affair. Turned it into a way to get extra attention and press for the team. A right bloody love story you've handed me and taken it away before I can use it to your advantage."
Shoving up from his chair, Roger tried to keep his cool. They'd had a hundred conversations similar to this over the years, Roger always wanting privacy and Dahlia, without fail, trying to find a way to turn something into a money making scheme.
"Again. My life is not a media spectacle to get you a higher cut." Of all the things concerning him - how Lavender would adjust to actually being a definite in Lily's life, if Maeve was going to calm down, what the Brown and Davies families would have to say - what the general public thought was beyond him. Why should people he'd never met matter?
"No, right now it's a PR nightmare."
There was a sharp knock on the door - four taps - indicating there was an owl just in and the secretary needed to know what to do with it. Dahlia looked conflicted, and Roger realized he must not be her only player crisis this morning. In the grand scheme, this wasn't actually a crisis.
"I'll leave you to the drunken arrests. I need to see my family and other people whose opinions actually matter." His expression was unimpressed but as stern as he could make it. The look had nothing on the one Dahlia offered in return, but Roger tried to ignore that as he pulled his coat from the rack by the door and shrugged it on.
"Can I at least talk you into a very large, very public reception?" There were a few taps, Dahlia hitting a pen against her desk - in favor of throwing it at Roger's head, probably.
Without turning around, Roger shrugged. "Maybe. We'll see."