Meet The Boss

Jack Riley hadn’t even met Ms. Fairchild yet, and he already liked her quite a bit. You could tell a lot about a person from the way they styled their office. The books they choose to stock it with. The wallpaper. Even the kind of music they made people listen to while they were waiting on you. All pieces to the puzzle.

‘Utilitarian’.  That was the word that kept popping up in Jack’s head. Ms. Fairchild had gone for a barebones approach to an office. White-walls, beige carpet, basic lighting, nothing too fancy. You had your fake plants in the corner, though he had to note, they were a fair bit more realistic looking than the ones he’d seen throughout his life, with the patterns on the leaf and the detail in the word. His father had dragged him to so many meetings, he’d turned into something of a fake plant connoisseur.

She had all the standard books - Time, the Wall Street Journal, the Wrestling Observer. The newest issues, too, though that might have been because the office itself was so new, no telling how often those would be swapped out. There was a coffee maker, too, the products of which he was currently helping himself to as he laid back in the chair. Oh, and the music was a relaxing, non-copyright infringing Jazz version of....something. It sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place it. He knew who could, though.

”Lock. Yo.” He turned to his compatriot, sitting beside him. ”Where’s this music from? You  know it?”

Heather Locke, his bodyguard/lover/advisor/whatever-he-needed-her-to-be, looked up from the pages of a Reader’s Digest and tipped her head towards the speakers above, them going silent as she tried to suss out the tune. She had been content to sit there, legs crossed and silent while they waited, but now that she had something reminiscent of productive to do, she devoted herself to it.  ”Goodbye Pork Pie Hat, Charles Mingus.” She answered after only a few seconds of thought,a slim smile as she inclined her head his way.”A classic.”

”It’s bullshit, is what it is.”

Jack and Heather sighed as one and looked towards the third member of their little party, who was currently slumped in one chair with her draped over the one beside her, getting as comfortable as a woman like her could ever be. Ophelia Keyes was a woman who hated a great many things, but near the top of that that list was waiting, listening to Jazz, and meetings. Since she had to endure the first two with the promise of the latter coming up, she was none to pleased. ”Don’t give me that look.” She stuck a finger in her ear and flicked out the contents. ”You both know she’s just trying to sweat us? Probably ain’t doing shit in there.”

”That may be.” Jack leaned back and shrugged, settling back into his seat. ”All part of the game, though. Don’t let it bother you.”

Lock wagged a finger her way as her focus returned to the magazine, focusing solely on the pages. ”And mind your manners while we’re in there. Remember what I said about the cursing.”

”Remember what I said about not giving a fuck?”

”Show out and I won’t have sex with you tonight.”

Key opened her mouth for a retort to that on instinct, then shut it almost as quickly, flopping with a huff. It was hard to tell with her darker skin, but Jack was sure he saw a blush.

Inside her office, Erica Fairchild...wasn't doing shit.

Well, ok, not entirely true. She was organizing. Things had been VERY busy for the woman since she abruptly took over for Miss Sellers and began running Tension. Who knew how many champions would just end up vanishing into the blue and she'd need to start so many tournaments? Then there was bringing in the new championship belt, another tournament, and dealing with new security staff, and not too mention dealing with the wrestlers and their ridiculous egos.

This one wanted a bigger dressing room, this one wanted better food in catering, this one wanted a bigger picture on a recent tension poster.

Reira Kirishima refused to come to work unless she got a world title shot, fat chance of that. She had booked Valley Doll, their newest signee from Friction, into a hentai bout with their newest rising prospect, Edward Sealgair, and the woman had called her to point out her tension contract gave her the option to opt out of such things.

Ridiculous, she had replied, mentioning that pushing Edward as a teen heart-throb for promotional purposes could be big for Tension, and having the very popular Valley Doll appear in one of his Beach Ring hentai challenge could lead to massive ratings, but in the end, Erica had honored the contract and changed it in the end, letting Valley kick his ass instead...which too be fair to the Slamazon, still popped a good rating.

Then of course...there was Ryo Kamiya. The adorable little perv had only come in to be informed of some new advertisements the company had been contacted about having him do, and somehow in a 5 minute talk he had not only made about a dozen different passes at her...but she had agreed to dinner the following friday at a nice bar and grill that she was pretty sure he wasn't legally old enough to be allowed in.

Strange powers that one had.

Now though, once she was clear everything was tidy, she had a new meeting with another new star to the league. Jack Riley, and his two...partners? Henchwomen? Mormon wives? Who knew.

In truth, she didn't know that much about Jack. According to her reports on him from her scouting agents, as well as reports of him in Wrestling Observer and other sports magazines, he was a rich boy whose daddy owned a wrestling league, tried to take over said league in both a corporate and physical way...then daddy kicked his ass and gotten him booted out of the entire U.K....only for him to land at her doorstep in Kyoto with his two...whatever-they-were's.

Huh. Lucky break for her or a pain-in-the-Ryo in the waiting?

Time to find out.

Smoothing out her red dress, which, while not entirely work appropriate, made her look hot, she opened the double doors to her office, finding Jack and greeting him with a smile.

"Mr. Riley! Sorry to have kept you and your associates waiting, please, come on in and sit down!"

Truth told, Jack didn’t mind waiting. In fact, he was quite used to it from business meetings with his father, both the ones he hosted and the ones he went to. His father often used to drag him to them - on Saturday mornings, making him miss Power Rangers, the prick - and he recalled how his father would often make his subordinates wait past the official meeting time to start. Not because he was busy, not because some emergency would come up. He’d be sitting in his office, enjoying a lunch or idly checking on his computer, something that could easily wait for later, and his people would just be standing outside, effectively in limbo. They couldn’t leave, they couldn’t go inside, they were just stuck there. Too afraid to even go to the bathroom, because they didn’t want to come back and find that everyone had gone inside while they were taking a piss.

It had seemed weird to him back then, but these days, he got it. It was all about contro. He never gave them an explanation for why he started late, and they knew better to ask. He was their boss. He made them wait because he felt like it. A display of power. End of story.

So, he got it. He understood it. For the moment, he was under Ms. Fairchild’s power, and her time was his time.

For the moment.

It wasn’t too much longer before the doors opened wide and he was ushered inside. With a quick whistle, he stood up and made his way over to the door, hands in pockets, as his subordinates followed closely behind - one more eager than the other, naturally. ”Not a problem at all, miss.You’re a busy woman, can tell that. Hope we won’t take up too much of your time.”

As he made his way in, he took a moment to appreciate Ms. Fairchild, head to toe, smirking at the sight. Quite a looker. He’d heard the previous owner, Sellers, wasn’t too bad on the eyes, either, and if that was the case, they’d done a good job on finding a replacement. Blonde, leggy, well-dressed. All plus, in his book.

”Formal introductions. I’m sure you know it all, but no harm in being cordial.” He kept standing and extended his hands for a shake, maintaining the calm, assured smile that he’d practiced a thousand times, as Lock and Key took seats beside each other. ”Jack Riley, and these are my two assistants and tag partners - Helena Locke, Ophelia Keyes.”

Lock brought out her best smile and sat with crossed legs. ”A pleasure, Ms. Fairchild.”

Key did her best impression of a person who wanted to be here, and slumped back on the chair. ”Hi. Hey.”

Erica immediately took Jack's hand, shaking it with a firm grip. He was a big man after all, and giving a firm grip back to him would show she wasn't going to be easily intimidated. Even if he wasn't trying to intimidate her, it still sent a good message, that while she may be a looker and a part of corporate...there was still steel in her core.

"Erica Fairchild, Official General Manager of Tension, its a pleasure to meet all of you."

The blonde woman in her 20's let her guests in, closing the doors behind them before moving to her desk and sitting, making sure to sit when they did so as to not seem rude.

"Mr. Riley, if I may say, you built quite a name for yourself in your last league, I am always scouring for world class talent into Tension, as I believe this league can legitimately have the greatest wrestling matches of all time, and I believe with your in ring skills, you could be a great help in getting us to that point. I mean, according to the Wrestling Observer, you had two Five Star matches in your last league. That's impressive. Meltzer hasn't given ANY of our male wrestlers 5 stars, the stingy bastard, so it would be a treat to get more recognition for in ring abilities, and your associates would be a welcome addition to our tag team division." she said, trying to start things off in a complimentary fashion.

Jack took a seat, settled in, and promptly cracked his knuckles to get nice and loose. Tempting as it was to start off this little conversation on his terms, he made sure to let Ms. Fairchild speak every word - every last word. This was as much about figuring out what sort of woman she was, as it was about them introducing themselves. Setting the tone for future interactions, whatever they might have entailed.

Right away, he liked Ms. Fairchild. While he had never met the previous owner, Melissa Sellers, he had heard enough horror stories to paint a less than flattering picture of the woman. A hedonist, a sexist, a hater of men, and many other denigrating words often came up. Maximilian Kingsley, the current GM of Friction, was also an interesting case, though he honestly wondered if even half the things he’d heard about the man were true.

Eccentricity was a fun trait for a wrestler, but in a GM, it was far from the stability such a job required. There had to be control. Discipline. So far, this woman seemed to have that.

Or she was simply good at hiding what she liked. But they could figure that out.

”You’re too kind. Really.” He gave her a small bow. As much as he could sitting down. ”And I certainly hope Lock and Key can make some headway in your tag team division. We’ve quite a bit of interest in the current champions.”

He leaned forward in the seat and wrung his hands over each other, having a moment of contemplation. ”That being said, I don’t want to think our relationship has to stay strictly in the ring - there might be other ways we can be of service to each other.” He wagged a finger towards Lock. ”I’ve heard you have a wealth of experience, but outside of wrestling. This is your first time tackling a beast like this, correct?”

Ah.

There it was.

Erica was wondering how long it would take before Jack made his move. Didn't take nearly as long as she was expecting it too. Granted, she wasn't sure exactly what his angle was, or his endgame...but it was obvious from his wording that he had something in mind, and she would have to carefully navigate these waters now.

"First off, anyone need drinks, snacks, anything? I can get my assistant to bring you anything you might like. Unlike everywhere else I've worked, AFW actually buys good coffee, and actual cream, not just the powdered stuff."

She asked, and after taking any orders that came in, she leaned back, interlocking her fingers together and looking about her office.

"You're right, AFW so far has been a very new experience. It's certainly been an interesting time so far, but not overly difficult. Managing egos of wrestlers is no different that managing the egos of stuffy businessmen, and as the board of directors disliked our previous GM for her sexist and ego-centric ways, they've been very open and supportive of my attempts to have more variety in our champions and challengers and create new events to draw in viewers.

But I admit, you have me curious...please tell me, how do you believe we could be of service to each other?" She asked, eager to hear just what Jack was willing to reveal to her.

”Bah.”

Jack threw his hands out and shook his head at the mention of coffee with an exasperated sigh, one that drew a playful eye roll from Lock and a less than playful groan from Key. ”You colonists and your coffee. A proper Englishman would never.”

It was a joke - an attempt at one, anyway - and Lock waved it off. ”Coffee is fine. Three sugars, a little cream.” She nodded behind. ”Key likes it black.”

That earned a sneer from the redhead, but she didn’t dispute the claim, only slumped back and kept her silence. So far, so good.

With all that done, it seemed like Fairchild was ready and willing to get down to the brass tacks. Jack would’ve preferred a little more pageantry, more of a side dish before they dug into main courses, but this worked, too. ”For starters, I believe I can help fill you in one some of the gaps in your knowledge. Make your transition a smoother one. You’re doing a good job so far, I won’t dispute that, but...”

He leaned forward and held out a hand, not wanting to come too strong, not trying to belittle her. A little coaxing could go a long way. ”I was raised in this business. Born into it. My father was in the exact position you’re in now, and I saw how cutthroat that position could be, how it could drain a person over the years. He taught me things, showed me the nuances, and I think that experience could go a long ways into making Tension a well-oiled machine. Specifically, it can be helpful to have an eye in the locker room. Someone to handle situations that might require more direct solutions.”

There was more to say, of course, but he wanted to make sure they were at least understanding each other before he went on, not wanting to throw too much out at once. He paused. Waited. Watched.

"Ah, forgive me, I can easily switch that to tea if you prefer?" Erica asked, playing her role as hostess, though Locke quickly assured her the coffee would, in fact, be fine.

What was less fine...was the speech Jack went into after. It was a fine enough speech, very generous, very nice...but despite her age, Erica had spent a lot of time in corporate meetings, with various projects, and this sounded, overall, very similar to a lot of previous "I'm stealing your thing without actually saying I'm stealing your thing." speeches she had heard over the years, from partners, higher ups, and in the case of her lemonade stand when she was a kid, the neighborhood bully.

She leaned back, listening quietly, taking a sip of her coffee when it arrived until Jack finished speaking for the moment, clearly gauging her for some kind of reaction. She continued sipping her coffee, blowing on it briefly to cool it down a little mid-sip. She could turn him down outright, make it clear she wasn't so naive and was aware of his history and what he was attempting to do here...or...instead of making an enemy of the man right of the bat...she could play this game, see just where things went...

She finally put her cup down, and leaned forward, looking at Jack with a gleam in her eyes as she spoke.

"Go on..."

This was good. Quite good.

Jack had done this long enough to know when things were off to a good start, and that was certainly the vibe he received here. You could never be too certain with these meetings, but getting his foot in the door at all was a solid step. They understood each other, they knew where they were coming from, and with that established they could begin the path forward. A beautiful thing.

”I intend to. For instance,” He rubbed his hands and leaned forward, preparing to paint a picture. ”Say you have a wrestler who’s getting a little rowdy. Not going the way you need them to, not putting in the right appearances. Maybe you want to steer them away from a particular title or keep them off a certain PPV. Or maybe, just maybe, you want to give them a little reminder of their place. A physical reminder, when subtler methods aren’t doing the trick. But you want to remain professional and keep your distance.”

Jack steepled his fingers and leaned back, wanting to look cordial, maintain, no matter what the subject matter switched to. ”We can help with that. A way to get your hands dirty...without getting your hands dirty. Lock, what was that tidy little American phrase for it?”

”Plausible deniability.”

”Plausible deniability.” He held up his hands and framed, loving the way it came off the tongue. ”I like that. Has a nice ring to it.”

Ahhh, so that was it then. Now the curtain was lifted, and Jack and Co. exposed themselves for what they really were. A gang. Just a nasty gang, looking for power, special treatment, and an excuse to beat on anyone they wanted.

"Hmmm...I see...I recall Mrs. Sellers had a little group of her own kind of like what your suggesting, years ago, only she openly announced herself as their leader and made a point to target only men...you suggest something a little similar, only I would direct you from the shadows. An interesting thought...I'm not sure if it goes with my intentions however."

She leaned back in her chair, biting the edge of her lip as she appeared to think over their suggestion for several moments in silence...before finally sitting back up and looking all three of them over and speaking.

"So...here's the thing. I'm not Cassandra or Melissa Sellers. I'm also not that absolutely unprofessional Lukretia. I've no desire for superiority, or for others to learn not to cross me. Frankly, my concerns are entirely corporate.

Tv ratings, better deals for TV rights with cable companies across the world, finding ways to compensate for the fact that television as a whole is dying, attracting new sponsors, and trying to build Tension into a bigger brand, which is a large task on its own. Wrestlers, and the feuds they have and the titles and all that...those are just...props, so to speak. I almost don't care who the champion is, so long as I can pull a net positive out of them for corporate interests.

To put it in a very simplistic way, the wrestlers are toys, and if I can smash the right pair of toys into each other, people will watch, and my job will be successful. If that means I have to manipulate and manufacture drama to get results, that's what I'll do."

She took a break to grab her coffee, taking another deep sip before looking back up at her guests.

"So, does knowing this change any part of your offer?" she asked, very curious to see how they would deal with this new information.