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Post by rocky on Jan 29, 2011 16:48:15 GMT -5
Plush had two premises. One was in Time Square, and that was where the writing and the interviewing and the fashion-related work happened, and the other was in the financial district, which was where the accounting, and the corporate decisions, and the legal meetings took place.
The office in Time Square was like a front. It was meant to give them a trendy, young appearance, and Adrienne had never felt out of place walking into it. The office in Wall Street was like a morgue. It was deathly quiet when you went in. The receptionist wore a bluetooth headset that she was blatantly not talking to anybody on, but still she held her finger up disdainfully as Adrienne squeaked across the marble floor in what had to have been the most ill-chosen pair of converse she had ever put on.
She had been adamant that morning that she wasn't going to change herself for Mr. Chandler -- whoever the hell that was -- and that if he wanted to fire her it would be his damn loss, but that confidence -- which had led her to turn up in a loose-fitting tank-top and a pair of jeans, recently purchased to replace the ones with thigh-holes -- was slowly draining away now that she was in this museum of a place.
"I'm here to see Mr. Chandler," she said abrasively, refusing to lower her voice or obey hand signals from a front desk attendant. Plush was the sort of magazine that was frequently under new management. It was a profitable, national magazine and it had changed hands once or twice before. This was the first time the new owner had wanted to see everybody, though, and Adrienne didn't quite know what to make of it.
Her job wasn't to make money for the magazine, it was to create content for it. She raked her hand through her bright red hair and and drummed her fingers on the glass desk, irritating the receptionist by leaving fingerprints there.
"Mr. Chandler is on the sixth floor, room seven. Knock and then wait."
Adrienne made sure to smear her thumb along the desk as she went for that. As if she didn't know how to knock a door! Bitch. She couldn't help but hold her breath as she stepped into the elevator, her last ride in one had ended rather abruptly with a near-death experience (followed by a night of hot, sweaty, life-affirming sex). It didn't do to be nervous of elevators and live in New York City, however, and she pressed the button for the sixth floor and then forced herself to exhale, slowly.
"I have no reason to be nervous." She said it out loud, as though the sound of it would make it true.
She knocked the door of room number seven and waited. God, he better just be being friendly. She had never been good at the business side of her career.
Never.
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Post by CLAUDIUS CHANDLER on Jan 29, 2011 17:25:26 GMT -5
The late Hamlet Chandler's vision of Hamlet Enterprises had been to help keep struggling companies afloat, helping them start out or giving them aid. His younger brother, Claudius Chandler, had an entirely different vision. Buy up as many companies as possible and exploit them for maximum financial gain.
Ordinarilly, Claudius Chandler wasn't the sort for magazines. But this one in particular, Plush Magazine, was national and profitable in its own right...meaning if he was able to exploit it, all the better for him.
According to his research and what he'd gleaned from his perusal of the New York premises, the magazine was used to being under new management. This suited Claudius very well indeed.
However, he wasn't sure they were used to the interviewing process he'd deigned it neccessary to set up. As a general rule, Claudius only worked with the best...and if this meant firing some people from the magazine his company had just taken over, then so what?
He'd been his usual charismatic, charming self during the interviews and for the most part he and the employees had got on well. He'd had to fire a couple of them though; they had been alarmed at his change in demanour but Claudius found the situation laughable.
Sitting back in his chair, evidently at ease, Claudius perused the list of employees on the desk in front of him. Next on this list was one Adrienne Heart. Claudius had heard a lot about Miss Heart and was admittedly curious to see if these rumours held true.
A knock on the door announced her presence. Claudius got to his feet and smoothed out a small crease in his dark green tie. Dark green and pinstripes...not exactly traditional but then Claudius wasn't sticking to Hamlet Enterprises' values.
He pulled open the door, a welcoming smile on his face, utterly genuine. This smile fell, just a small degree, as he took in Adrienne Heart's appearance. She wasn't wearing a suit or smart casual outfit like her contemparies...no, she was in jeans.
This was unusual, but that didn't mean to say Claudius wasn't somewhat impressed. She must be confident to think she could pull that look off in this situation.
"Miss Heart, I presume," Claudius said, his smile returning to full volume, as it were. He extended a hand for her to shake. "A pleasure to meet you."
And indeed it was.
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Post by rocky on Jan 29, 2011 18:05:01 GMT -5
"Mr. Chandler," Adrienne said, shaking his hand. She gave him a calculatedly coy look, batting her eyelashes sweetly as she allowed herself to be ushered into the room. "The pleasure is all mine."
She had been expecting someone older, and greyer, and considerably more decrepit looking. To say that she was pleasantly surprised would be an understatement. She had, after all, a new found appreciation for disgustingly rich men in suits. She wondered if Reed would consider that a compliment or an insult, that she was looking at other men? Who was she kidding. His double-standards were practically flashing above his head in neon lights; he had been jealous of a ticket attendant, but she would have bet a million dollars he was contenting himself with other women when he wasn't with her.
Which was fine. They weren't monogamous. Quite why the thought of it made her inclined to punish him by flirting with someone richer and more powerful she didn't know, but Adrienne was slave to her emotions -- she acted without the guiding light of rational thought in most cases, and then kicked herself afterwards.
She was beginning to regret her attire, but not because it wasn't smart enough -- because it wasn't revealing enough. She wrapped her arms around herself, beneath her breasts so they were pushed up a little, and pretended to be shy.
"I hope I didn't do anything wrong...?"
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Post by CLAUDIUS CHANDLER on Jan 30, 2011 7:55:14 GMT -5
"Mr. Chandler. The pleasure is all mine."
Claudius couldn't help an inward chuckle at Heart's attempted coyness. This was certainly going to be an interesting interview.
"I hope I didn't do anything wrong...?"
He laughed a little at her query; he couldn't help it. That and the fact she was trying to act innocent and shy when it was quite clear she was anything but.
"Wrong?" Claudius repeated, somewhat incredulously. "Of course not. Though, I must say, your attire is somewhat unorthodox. Not that that's a bad thing."
He motioned to a chair opposite his desk, indicating Adrienne should take a seat, before closing the door behind him.
"All this is really is me trying to assess just who is best suited for this company as I plan to oversee it,"
This said he sat back down, pulling the notebook and pen he'd been using for the previous interviews towards him and writing 'Adrienne Heart' as the heading of a new page.
"So tell me, Miss Heart, how long have you been working for the magazine?"
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Post by rocky on Jan 30, 2011 8:40:58 GMT -5
"Oh -- about... five years or so," Adrienne said, shifting a little. She didn't really want to confess her path along the career ladder -- she had been a coffee girl, and then she had slept with Frank until his wife had objected and he'd sort of given her the writing job as a consolation prize.
"I started working in the building as a coffee girl, and um -- worked my way up from there. I write the Heart Matters column now."
She settled into the seat, knees together and feet apart, and clasped her hands in her lap, shrugging her shoulders a little. She didn't really know what to think of his comment about her attire, she didn't own a business suit. She chewed at her lip nervously.
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Post by CLAUDIUS CHANDLER on Jan 30, 2011 9:08:19 GMT -5
"Oh -- about... five years or so,"
Claudius nodded briskly and made a note in his book. Looking up he noticed Adrienne shifting a little, clearly nervous. He found this somewhat unusual; he'd expected the others to be nervous but, judging from his first impressions of Miss Heart, he wouldn't have put her in the same category.
"I started working in the building as a coffee girl, and um -- worked my way up from there. I write the Heart Matters column now."
Claudius made another note in his book. Having done so he regarded Adrienne as she sat down; if her posture and lip chewing were anything to go by, she was still nervous.
"I can't say I've read the column," he said, with a small laugh. "But I can take a guess as to its content."
Then,
"Do you enjoy your job, Miss Heart?"
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Post by rocky on Jan 30, 2011 10:12:14 GMT -5
"It's a relationships column," she explained easily, and then nodded. "I do enjoy it, actually. I started as a field journalist but -- I think the column work suits me better. I'm opinionated, you know? Objectivity was never a strong suit."
She laughed awkwardly. What was he trying to suss about her? It didn't make much sense. She wondered if he'd spoken to Frank. He was a bit of a dark horse, regarding his opinion of her. Adrienne hadn't been all that nice to him since their acrimonious separation, but he continued to try to schmooze with her, at least in public. Frank was an expert at maintaining a façade of professionalism -- but it didn't mean he hadn't said something to Mr. Chandler.
"Who... else have you spoken to?"
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Post by CLAUDIUS CHANDLER on Jan 30, 2011 10:32:06 GMT -5
"It's a relationships column. I do enjoy it, actually. I started as a field journalist but -- I think the column work suits me better. I'm opinionated, you know? Objectivity was never a strong suit."
Another nod, another scribble in the notepad. That explained her earlier behavior, at least. This Adrienne Heart was certainly more interesting than the other employees he'd spoken to that morning; they were either terrified and barely said a thing...either that or they tried (and failed) to get themselves into his good graces with compliment upon compliment.
"Good," he said, giving Adrienne a small smile. "Opinionated is good."
"Who... else have you spoken to?"
"I thought I was the one asking the questions...?" said Claudius, jokingly. Then, in a more serious tone, "I've spoken to Miranda and a certain Mr. Ferrier so far. Frank, that was his name. Frank Ferrier."
He gave Adrienne no indication of the conversation he and Frank had had; in truth, not much of worth had been said, at least in Frank's view.
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Post by rocky on Jan 30, 2011 15:00:17 GMT -5
"Oh. You talked to Frank? Did he -- ? Um. Never mind."
Adrienne cringed. She had given herself away a little. The more she tried not to think about Frank the more he seemed to occupy her thoughts. She leaned forward and propped her elbow on the desk, her chin supported by the heel of her hand.
"That's not really why we're here, is it?"
No. They were here to assess performance, she presumed. Adrienne had a mixed bag of a track record. She was frequently late and rarely met deadlines, but her work was good and well-read, and she was provocative and very much on the cutting edge, so it tended to balance things in performance reviews. That didn't mean that Mr. Chandler would agree, however.
"You are the one asking the questions. Ask me a question."
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Post by CLAUDIUS CHANDLER on Jan 30, 2011 15:38:14 GMT -5
"Oh. You talked to Frank? Did he -- ? Um. Never mind."
Claudius inwardly smirked. Frank had been quick to commend Adrienne during his interview (though she didn't need to know this). That and her reaction to his mention of him gave Claudius an inclination of just how she'd moved up the corporate ladder so quickly.
"That's not really why we're here, is it?"
Claudius smiled and shook his head. It certainly wasn't.
"You are the one asking the questions. Ask me a question."
Claudius' smile grew a little wider at this and he leant back in his chair a little. His first impression of Miss Heart's confidence hadn't been entirely unfounded.
"What do you believe you contribute to this magazine, Miss Heart? Aside from the obvious."
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Post by rocky on Jan 31, 2011 8:59:26 GMT -5
"Um..."
Adrienne frowned. She wasn't entirely sure she understood his meaning, but she supposed she was going to have to drum up an answer for him from somewhere. She squirmed.
"Creatively?" she ventured warily, hoping that was what he meant, "I think I bring honesty. So much of the magazine is about how to hide everything, you know? How to hide your splotchy skin or cover wrinkles or smooth out fat... at least reading my column people know they get unbridled truthfulness."
It was true, to an extent. Adrienne frequently laid herself completely bare in her column, albeit with a little more cool flare than she had in reality. The ability to edit one's turn of phrase in writing meant that she seemed far more collected in print than she did in person. She almost had to take on a character to do it -- the real Adrienne cared deeply what people thought of her, the Adrienne in the column was much more aloof and self-deprecating. She played on humour, often at her own expense, that in reality stung rather more than she cared to let on.
Never the less, her process was an honest one. She shrugged her shoulders.
"Maybe that's a bad thing."
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Post by CLAUDIUS CHANDLER on Jan 31, 2011 11:33:28 GMT -5
"Um...Creatively?"
Claudius nodded, admittedly curious to hear what Adrienne would say in reponse. It was a pretty tricky question to answer, in general; this was evidenced by Adrienne's small frown and continued shifting in her seat.
"I think I bring honesty. So much of the magazine is about how to hide everything, you know? How to hide your splotchy skin or cover wrinkles or smooth out fat... at least reading my column people know they get unbridled truthfulness."
Chandler considered this, tapping his pen against the desk as he thought it over. That was a very good response, very good indeed. Better than he'd expected.
Then again, he wasn't the biggest fan of truthfulness, particullarly of late. Perhaps his view of the truth was dependent on the situation. After all, one doesn't tell the truth about the murder of one's close relatives, but one is more inclined to tell the truth about how well one's company is doing.
"Maybe that's a bad thing."
"The truth can be a bad thing sometimes, I admit. But I think in this case it isn't. Why do you think it would be, Miss Heart? Do you feel what you write is perhaps too truthful?"
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Post by rocky on Feb 1, 2011 9:34:44 GMT -5
"Too truthful for me, perhaps," Adrienne said, and offered him a vague smile. "Too truthful for the magazine? I don't think so. Certainly not too truthful for the readers. The management takes umbrage with my candor at times, that I can't deny."
She adopted a look of wide-eyed innocence -- something she was well accustomed to having to fake. Miranda despaired of her most days, and they often played tennis with her articles, sending them back and forth until one of them caved and either Adrienne edited or Miranda decided just to send it out as it was.
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Post by CLAUDIUS CHANDLER on Feb 1, 2011 15:53:57 GMT -5
"Too truthful for me, perhaps. Too truthful for the magazine? I don't think so. Certainly not too truthful for the readers. The management takes umbrage with my candor at times, that I can't deny."
"Surely that's what management is meant to do?" Claudius asked with a slight smirk, his tone joking once more. Adrienne's honesty was something he wasn't used to; usually honesty didn't help one climb the corporate ladder, and this magazine was a business like any other.
He placed his pen down on the desk, feeling that the note taking and the current thread of conversation didn't quite fit together.
"Do you have any...problems with the management, Miss Heart?"
This wasn't said accussingly, simply in a tone of curiousity.
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Post by rocky on Feb 1, 2011 16:22:48 GMT -5
"I... not exactly. I think they have a problem with me."
There was a middle-schooler in Adrienne that told her everyone else was just jealous, but really, she had ruffled feathers with her ascent, and then had continued to ruffle them with her longevity in her role. Most of them had comforted themselves in the knowledge that she was going to crash and burn, and she hadn't in the least.
"Do you have a problem with me, Mr. Chandler?"
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