Disclaimer: Not one of these! Ahh! Listen, we all know I don't own them, if
I did then my last name would be McMahon. Which it isn't. It's Smith. Well,
now that we all know each other, go ahead and read. This one time
disclaimer is enough already. I don't own them!
Author's Note: I'm back again! This one is going to start in a way like "Wildcat," just for that deja vu feeling, but don't worry- it's going to be a very different story. No real notes this time, except for one: this will not star Dani or Shane, but it will have a new girl that I think you'll like, and a WWE Superstar who you'll never guess. *evil grin* Ok, maybe you will, but it's still a surprise.
New Readers (yes, I'm hopeful) won't have to read Wildcat to understand this story! I'm not really calling this a sequel, because the lead characters from the last story probably won't show up a lot. It's just another story, that happens to have a few of the same people. That's it, I'll stop rambling now. :p Eleven Roses.
~~~~~
Tuesday, May 14th, 2002.
She walked at a powerful pace, black heels striking the floor without mercy, and stopped for nothing. Unnerving in her all-dark dress but with an alluring cloud around her, a confident smile played on pouted lips as she memorized every detail around her. The shining floors and dull paint, all light colours of course- it didn't take much for dark eyes to roll in her head. The entire building screamed perfection, this company wanted something that didn't exist. Not that she didn't like that thought, a company where nothing could go wrong, but a dose of reality was definitely due.
The sober mind screamed realist inside the body of a devil, and a glint of determination glowed behind thin glasses. If this family wanted perfection, or something so close it would make your mind spin with excitement, she would give it to them. She knew she could, she'd except nothing less and never had. That's why she was there.
No overwhelming challenge faced her, no twenty metre high wall was blocking her goal, this was to be the kind of place where she could have "just another day in the office." A talent manager, not the on stage in front of screaming people kind, but the slightly quirky type who sat behind a computer all day and did what they had to do: manage. This dark haired woman was ready for that, she had been doing it her entire life. Taking care of business, giving orders, and- most importantly- never backing down.
Speaking of her "day in the office," there was the door now. No pause for last minute adjustments, she was much too bold for that, and the door swung open effortlessly. She smiled into aged eyes- surely this man was getting a little old for this business- and wasn't shocked with the continued melancholy of the room.
"Mr. McMahon," she said coolly. "It's nice to finally meet you face to face." She knew his name and took a firm handshake, looking every inch the polite new girl at the office, but overflowing with surprising intimidation. He smiled- apparently he knew the game all too well- and offered her a seat.
"Welcome to World Wrestling Entertainment, Ms. Irving. We've been very anxious for you to arrive." He sat across from her, leaning onto the table in a gesture that she gladly didn't return, and held a file underneath his hands. "I'm sorry everyone couldn't be here, this meeting was scheduled on very short notice."
Nodding, she glanced down the long, empty, black table. "I noticed," she said simply, and he almost frowned. Caught himself in time though- did he think I looked like a talker?- and slid the file over to her. "What's this? His file?"
"I assumed that, since he won't be here for a while, you might want to get a slight idea of who he is, Ms. Irving." The graying man shrugged, and she barely opened the cover.
"Miranda," she shot back a bit too quickly- didn't want to bring up memories of who used to call her by last name- and then dropped the folder closed. "I've already read over his basics, although I haven't gotten the slightest idea of how easy he is to work with."
Mr. McMahon laughed at that. "He's very good at what he does, and when he puts his mind to something- there's no stopping him. From what I can see, you two should get along very well." He paused and reached into his pocket, pulling out reading glasses and resting them on his nose, adjusting them with a fingertip before continuing. "I have no doubt that he will be agreeable and respectful of your position as his new manager, he was the most desperate out of us all to fill the position with someone more... trustworthy."
She looked at him over the rims of her glasses and furrowed her eyebrows. "What do you mean by that? I'm a bit unsure of the details of Mr. Hopper's departure." It was a lie and they both knew it, but she had only been fed what they felt she needed to know- and she wanted to know more. This past manager might still be important.
"The confidentiality clause was broken surrounding many contracts, and over three months of storylines and outcomes were released to the highest bidder... two months in advance. As you've probably heard, the WWE prides itself on keeping the viewers hooked, and his actions were less than helpful."
"He controlled more than one of your athletes?" Miranda glanced back down at the file, there was one new item she hadn't known. "Not to criticize, but why was someone who had only worked with the company for..." she searched her memory quickly, "two years given that much of a responsibility?"
He didn't say anything, just stared at her for a moment before coughing roughly. She should've been a lawyer, that's what everyone said, that's what her par... She blinked quickly. Don't go there.
Mr. McMahon had recovered by then and tried to act casual, not surprised, and completely unlike he looked. "Alan was an amazing worker," he said simply. "He could handle them all with no problems, and there wasn't a person who ever met him that didn't like him. That responsibility was well- earned, let me tell you that, Miranda. In the end, though, I believe the stress caught up with him and he was desperate to relieve it." He leaned forward slightly- would he soon lay on the table?- and met her eyes seriously. "I expect you will have no trouble with the good and bad working aspects of this position?"
She met his eyes and almost grinned. "You can't possibly believe working with this company could be without problems, but I assure you that I can handle anything you throw at me. Even if it's enough to drive most people insane."
"Good."
Miranda turned at that one word, how could anyone sound so self-assured and have so much attitude laced into such a pleasant word? He certainly did fit the character in his voice, that was for sure. Strong built, almost so much that it started to look bad but not quite, and short hair. Almost like an army cut, very disciplined looking overall.
"Ah, you're here. Miranda," Mr. McMahon motioned to her, "this is who you will be managing."
The stranger smiled, was his comment a joke? It must've been, his eyes went relaxed instantly and he offered a hand. She took it, but not after standing up. The intimidation factor, only slightly hampered by his over 6 foot height, still did nothing. Clear blue eyes met hers warmly, and she lowered her eyebrows.
"Miranda," he said, "My new manager. Nice to meet you." She nodded slightly and removed her hand, and he looked slightly put off. Guess he's not as famous as he thinks he is. "I'm Kurt Angle," he added, and she sat back down silently.
She glanced back up at him once, confused, and looked at him. Tall, light hair, very catching eyes, and a huge neck. So, this is Kurt Angle. "My pleasure," she replied, more out of formality than anything else. "I trust you're okay with having a new manager, from what I've heard."
Kurt grinned, wide and openly. "If you're game, so am I."
~~~~~
Author's Note: I'm back again! This one is going to start in a way like "Wildcat," just for that deja vu feeling, but don't worry- it's going to be a very different story. No real notes this time, except for one: this will not star Dani or Shane, but it will have a new girl that I think you'll like, and a WWE Superstar who you'll never guess. *evil grin* Ok, maybe you will, but it's still a surprise.
New Readers (yes, I'm hopeful) won't have to read Wildcat to understand this story! I'm not really calling this a sequel, because the lead characters from the last story probably won't show up a lot. It's just another story, that happens to have a few of the same people. That's it, I'll stop rambling now. :p Eleven Roses.
~~~~~
Tuesday, May 14th, 2002.
She walked at a powerful pace, black heels striking the floor without mercy, and stopped for nothing. Unnerving in her all-dark dress but with an alluring cloud around her, a confident smile played on pouted lips as she memorized every detail around her. The shining floors and dull paint, all light colours of course- it didn't take much for dark eyes to roll in her head. The entire building screamed perfection, this company wanted something that didn't exist. Not that she didn't like that thought, a company where nothing could go wrong, but a dose of reality was definitely due.
The sober mind screamed realist inside the body of a devil, and a glint of determination glowed behind thin glasses. If this family wanted perfection, or something so close it would make your mind spin with excitement, she would give it to them. She knew she could, she'd except nothing less and never had. That's why she was there.
No overwhelming challenge faced her, no twenty metre high wall was blocking her goal, this was to be the kind of place where she could have "just another day in the office." A talent manager, not the on stage in front of screaming people kind, but the slightly quirky type who sat behind a computer all day and did what they had to do: manage. This dark haired woman was ready for that, she had been doing it her entire life. Taking care of business, giving orders, and- most importantly- never backing down.
Speaking of her "day in the office," there was the door now. No pause for last minute adjustments, she was much too bold for that, and the door swung open effortlessly. She smiled into aged eyes- surely this man was getting a little old for this business- and wasn't shocked with the continued melancholy of the room.
"Mr. McMahon," she said coolly. "It's nice to finally meet you face to face." She knew his name and took a firm handshake, looking every inch the polite new girl at the office, but overflowing with surprising intimidation. He smiled- apparently he knew the game all too well- and offered her a seat.
"Welcome to World Wrestling Entertainment, Ms. Irving. We've been very anxious for you to arrive." He sat across from her, leaning onto the table in a gesture that she gladly didn't return, and held a file underneath his hands. "I'm sorry everyone couldn't be here, this meeting was scheduled on very short notice."
Nodding, she glanced down the long, empty, black table. "I noticed," she said simply, and he almost frowned. Caught himself in time though- did he think I looked like a talker?- and slid the file over to her. "What's this? His file?"
"I assumed that, since he won't be here for a while, you might want to get a slight idea of who he is, Ms. Irving." The graying man shrugged, and she barely opened the cover.
"Miranda," she shot back a bit too quickly- didn't want to bring up memories of who used to call her by last name- and then dropped the folder closed. "I've already read over his basics, although I haven't gotten the slightest idea of how easy he is to work with."
Mr. McMahon laughed at that. "He's very good at what he does, and when he puts his mind to something- there's no stopping him. From what I can see, you two should get along very well." He paused and reached into his pocket, pulling out reading glasses and resting them on his nose, adjusting them with a fingertip before continuing. "I have no doubt that he will be agreeable and respectful of your position as his new manager, he was the most desperate out of us all to fill the position with someone more... trustworthy."
She looked at him over the rims of her glasses and furrowed her eyebrows. "What do you mean by that? I'm a bit unsure of the details of Mr. Hopper's departure." It was a lie and they both knew it, but she had only been fed what they felt she needed to know- and she wanted to know more. This past manager might still be important.
"The confidentiality clause was broken surrounding many contracts, and over three months of storylines and outcomes were released to the highest bidder... two months in advance. As you've probably heard, the WWE prides itself on keeping the viewers hooked, and his actions were less than helpful."
"He controlled more than one of your athletes?" Miranda glanced back down at the file, there was one new item she hadn't known. "Not to criticize, but why was someone who had only worked with the company for..." she searched her memory quickly, "two years given that much of a responsibility?"
He didn't say anything, just stared at her for a moment before coughing roughly. She should've been a lawyer, that's what everyone said, that's what her par... She blinked quickly. Don't go there.
Mr. McMahon had recovered by then and tried to act casual, not surprised, and completely unlike he looked. "Alan was an amazing worker," he said simply. "He could handle them all with no problems, and there wasn't a person who ever met him that didn't like him. That responsibility was well- earned, let me tell you that, Miranda. In the end, though, I believe the stress caught up with him and he was desperate to relieve it." He leaned forward slightly- would he soon lay on the table?- and met her eyes seriously. "I expect you will have no trouble with the good and bad working aspects of this position?"
She met his eyes and almost grinned. "You can't possibly believe working with this company could be without problems, but I assure you that I can handle anything you throw at me. Even if it's enough to drive most people insane."
"Good."
Miranda turned at that one word, how could anyone sound so self-assured and have so much attitude laced into such a pleasant word? He certainly did fit the character in his voice, that was for sure. Strong built, almost so much that it started to look bad but not quite, and short hair. Almost like an army cut, very disciplined looking overall.
"Ah, you're here. Miranda," Mr. McMahon motioned to her, "this is who you will be managing."
The stranger smiled, was his comment a joke? It must've been, his eyes went relaxed instantly and he offered a hand. She took it, but not after standing up. The intimidation factor, only slightly hampered by his over 6 foot height, still did nothing. Clear blue eyes met hers warmly, and she lowered her eyebrows.
"Miranda," he said, "My new manager. Nice to meet you." She nodded slightly and removed her hand, and he looked slightly put off. Guess he's not as famous as he thinks he is. "I'm Kurt Angle," he added, and she sat back down silently.
She glanced back up at him once, confused, and looked at him. Tall, light hair, very catching eyes, and a huge neck. So, this is Kurt Angle. "My pleasure," she replied, more out of formality than anything else. "I trust you're okay with having a new manager, from what I've heard."
Kurt grinned, wide and openly. "If you're game, so am I."
~~~~~