Disclaimer: I don't own the WWF, or any of the wrestlers in this story. Are
you surprised? I do own Danielle and a few other people... so no taking
them. Don't sue me either, if I had the money to pay you- don't you think
I'd have bought the whole company? *evil grin* Oh, and I'm only putting
this once. If you read the story except the first chapter, you don't
deserve to see this wonderful bit of disclaimer. :)
SEPTEMBER 1996
This has got to be the most fake bunch of people I've ever seen, I wonder if any of them have any other function besides breathing. Especially that receptionist. Like she doesn't notice I've been sitting here for twenty minutes, waiting for her to call me in for my damn appointment. What a ditz: "Hello, would you like me to put you on hold? One moment please!" How do people like her survive the gene pool, anyway?
"Ms. Smith? That can take you in now."
Reality came back in an instant, and she looked up with sarcastic eyes. "Already? Thanks," she said, flashing the receptionist a cocky grin as she walked past. She had expected- no, she had hoped for- a reply, but none came. Fine, she thought, ruin any chance of fun for me today.
She walked down the hallway, plain and covered with advertising posters, stopping to look at the ones that caught her attention. She was in no hurry to get to the office- she doubted they were in a hurry to interview her- and it wouldn't make any difference to her if she was late. Or later. This building was as boring as the people in it.
They have see-through doors. Whose idea was that? Well, I guess they don't want any secrets.... yeah, right. That kind of policy must be great for their business.
The name on the door was McMahon- this was the room she was looking for. She tried the knob. Locked. What the hell is going on here? Did the receptionist try to pull something on her? Maybe she wasn't as dead as she appeared to be. One more sharp twist on the doorknob. Yes, it was still locked.
"Vince is in a meeting. Are you Ms. Smith?"
She turned and met a tall man, about her age, who gave her a friendly smile. A little too friendly, she thought, time to deflate his good time. "Yes, I am. Are you his secretary? I was told to be in his office." Another showing of her grin, and the man gave her an oddly amused look.
He gave her an intrigued smile and offered a hand. "I'm his son. It's nice to meet you too." She shook his hand reluctantly, giving him a suspicious look. "I can take you to the free meeting room- he'll be in shortly to interview you." He nodded past her and started walking down the hallway.
She followed him silently, still looking at the posters. Well, I've found one person in the building who has a sense of humour and isn't dead inside- not quite. And, on the plus side, he's got a nice ass. She couldn't help but grin a little, just enough that the corners of her mouth twitched.
"I think you're the only one who finds this place funny." He had stopped and was looking at her with a small smile.
Does he ever stop smiling at people? Hate to let you know, but you're the only one who's enjoying this. "I wasn't laughing at this place- nothing in here is the least bit funny... or even alive." She shook her head and glanced at another poster before meeting his eyes again, who cares if he's got no clue what I'm talking about? He looked at her, eyes a deep, thoughtful brown, and she didn't give him a chance to reply.
"Anyway, is this the meeting room you were talking about?"
He nodded and took his eyes from hers, his heart was racing and she knew it- something about her always did that to people and she never minded. "Yeah, go on in." He opened the door for her- oh, what a gentlemen, she thought dryly- and she stepped inside.
Must've been a quick meeting, hadn't this guy just told her it would be a while? There was Mr. McMahon, and the three other men in the room didn't matter to her. He was the boss, the one she had to convince into giving her a job- another meaningless task she'd hate but do long enough to make a couple of paychecks. Then she'd probably move again, maybe to California this time- if she could get the cash.
"Good afternoon, you must be Ms. Smith. I'm Vince McMahon..." He shook her hand strongly and proceeded to introduce all the men in the room. She merely nodded, she didn't care about their names, and gave him a slight smile.
I'm really starting to hate being called Ms. Smith. Why don't they just call me Danielle? Hell, I'll even let somebody call me Cassidy without bitching them out. "Just call me Danielle," she said with a smirk.
"Okay, Danielle." Vince said pleasantly. "Now, we've got a lot of questions to ask you. We don't use plain forms here at Titan Sports, it's better if we hear your own answers." She nodded- this was so pointless- and ignored his son's eyes. Maybe I should've listened to what his name was, I've got a feeling I'll see him again.
"First, we'll need your basic personal profile. What's the name on your birth certificate?" She gave him an odd look, why was that important?, and he gave her a quick explanation. "We do a basic background check on our employee's, just to make sure-"
"To make sure I'm not a psycho who just wants to jump your body builder wrestlers?" His eyes went wider, and she gave him her crooked grin.
"Well, I suppose that's one way of putting it," he said uncomfortably. "Can you tell me your full name?"
She grinned still and held back a laugh- this just might be a fun afternoon after all. "Cassidy Danielle Smith," she said, leaning back in her chair. "I'm Canadian all the way, have no children, am desperate for a paycheck, and don't you dare ask me if this is my natural hair colour."
That caught him off guard, and she heard one of the other men cough nervously. "That's certainly nice to know," he said after a pause. "Well, what do you have for specialized education? We need to decide what use you could be here at WWF Inc."
She paused for a second, nothing was going to get him off his planned speech. And, specialized education? "I've never been to college, if that's what you're asking."
"What about high school?" he asked.
"Grade eleven," she said with a smirk. "School and me didn't agree." There goes all the good jobs, I'll probably get stuck doing something like cleaning. Maybe this interview wasn't the best idea I've ever had...
"That's going to present quite a problem, Ms. Smith," Vince McMahon said, giving one of the men a shake of his head. She couldn't tell if it was funny or disappointing, so she didn't react to it. "We'll call you if anything comes up, but I wouldn't wait by the phone."
She raised one eyebrow at him, and had to bite her tongue to keep from replying how she wanted. "Thank you for the wonderful interview," she said sarcastically. "I'll let myself out." And with that, she stood up and walked out- jobless but still with her pride.
Walking past those advertising posters again, she actually noticed some of the names. Stone Cold Steve Austin- some bald beer seller who needed a good workout; The Undertaker- a huge morbid looking tattoo freak; maybe not getting a job here wasn't a bad thing. Besides, she could probably find another job in the next few weeks.
The receptionist watched her walk out, with a smirk that Danielle wouldn't look at. She was agitated and walked fast, but was stopped in the parking lot by a firm hand on her shoulder. Turning, she met Vince's son again, who gave her a nervous grin.
His hair looks messed up- did he run after me? She gave him a curious look and studied his short brown hair. "Can I help you?" she said, resting one hand on her hip and raising her right eyebrow.
"You... you didn't give them a contact number, in case they need to call you about a job." He gave her a piece of paper and a pen, and his constant grin relaxed.
"They won't need it....ah... what's your name again?" She knew Mr. McMahon had said it during the- very short- interview, but she couldn't think of what it was.
He offered his hand again, and she shook it cautiously- she really didn't like everyone shaking her hand. "Shane, and I wouldn't be so sure they won't call you. There are a lot of positions available, but most of them are very..."
She rolled her eyes. "Pointless? Boring?" she offered, then took the paper from him and quickly wrote her name and number on it. He laughed and took it- and he read it, don't get too excited and call me- and put it into his suit pocket. "Nice meeting you, Shane," she said with a nod, and then got into her car.
OCTOBER 1996
Danielle hadn't heard from anyone at the Florida branch of Titan Sports. Not that she was surprised at all, and she already been able to get another job. It wasn't her dream- what kind of weirdo would actually want to work in a convenience store?- but it was going to pay the bills. She could still stay in Miami; she was starting to enjoy the people, places, and the very warm weather; and she'd had little trouble finding an apartment when she first arrived.
She stood in front of the mirror and looked at herself with a sigh. Sometimes she really hated the way her life went- especially in the job search. Maybe if she had only...never mind, she had to get ready for work.
Casual black pants hugged her hips and made her long legs seem slimmer. She was wearing a pair of red pumps- her favorite shoes- and they made soft thumps on the plain floor as she walked back into the bedroom. She wore a sleeveless red shirt that moved with her and exposed her tattoo. She only had one, the Canadian flag, and it was on her upper right arm.
Her entire body was tall and lean, almost like a swimmer but with more curves- something she never complained about. She was about 5'10 the last time she checked, and she looked like an athlete despite not working out.
She had her hair- a long mane of amazingly red hair that no one believed was natural- pulled into a ponytail and then in many small braids. Her lipstick was a matching shade of red that brought out her pouted lips. Lost people were amazed by her looks, but nothing compared to when they first saw her eyes. They were a deep, electric blue, another colour that people wouldn't believe. She could sometimes make people stop and stare at her eyes, one coy bat of her lashes and they were hooked. She could tell Shane McMahon has been attracted to her eyes- but she ignored that. Of all the things she didn't need right now, a business man headed the top of that list.
Picking up a necklace from the dresser, Danielle clasped it around her neck as the finishing touch. A small silver heart around her neck, and it matched the ring she always wore on her left hand- a sterling silver birth stone ring. Her birthday was July 23rd, 1975, making her 21 and wearing a small ruby.
She was just opening the door to leave when the phone rang. Should I go back and answer it- and be late for work? Or, should I just go to the store and they can call back later? She grinned, hell with work, it should only take me a few minutes. I'll probably be late anyway, unless I can get across town in five minutes.
By the time she got to the phone, it was on it's fourth ring. They must be very desperate, she thought as she picked up the receiver. "Hello?" she said, pulling her pack of cigarettes from her pocket and getting one out.
"Is this Ms. Danielle Smith?" It was a rough man's voice, very commanding and serious, and she knew she'd heard it before. It wasn't anyone she really knew, maybe just an acquaintance...
"Yes, it is. Who's this?" That was voice was so familiar, she thought, holding the cigarette between her lips and searching for a lighter. Where did I put that damn thing?
"This is Vince McMahon, from Titan Sports. We had an interview about a month ago, and a position on our crew had just opened up."
Her mouth fell open, and her cigarette fell to the floor. They're actually calling me about a job- Vince himself? This has got to be a joke... "Mr. McMahon," she said in shock. "I wasn't expected a call back, you must be very desperate for employee's."
He chuckled. "We didn't expect to call you back," he said bluntly. "But, there's a job open, we've had few applications- and surprisingly, you were the best out of them."
She let out a laugh. "You've got to be kidding me! First, I get a call from you- instead of your charming receptionist, and now you're offering me a job?"
"Yes," he said. "I'll admit it's unusual. Marie, the receptionist, is up to her ears in papers already, and I decided to call you myself to save time."
Danielle nodded, even if he couldn't see it. "What position are we talking about, anyway? Just so you know, I'm already employed- so I won't be leaving my job right now... unless it's worth it." Now, where'd that smoke of mine go? And the lighter...
"For someone who's in need of a good job- you're being quite picky."
She raised her eyebrows. "And for someone who needs employee's- you're being quite a smart ass." Grinning, she bent and picked up her cigarette and dusted it off. That'll show him.
Mr.McMahon laughed again. "You've got a lot of spunk, and I think you'll fit in nicely with the WWF if you watch that mouth of yours."
"You still haven't told me what job we're talking about, Mr. McMahon." She finally found her lighter, and she lit her cigarette with ease. "Will I need all of my high school qualifications for this kind of work?"
"You'll be assembling and disassembling the wrestling ring, along with some other backstage odd jobs."
Way to deflate my balloon, she thought. The next thing through her mind was: What do I have to lose? It couldn't possibly pay worse than this job. She smiled. "You've got yourself a deal. When do I start?"
SEPTEMBER 1996
This has got to be the most fake bunch of people I've ever seen, I wonder if any of them have any other function besides breathing. Especially that receptionist. Like she doesn't notice I've been sitting here for twenty minutes, waiting for her to call me in for my damn appointment. What a ditz: "Hello, would you like me to put you on hold? One moment please!" How do people like her survive the gene pool, anyway?
"Ms. Smith? That can take you in now."
Reality came back in an instant, and she looked up with sarcastic eyes. "Already? Thanks," she said, flashing the receptionist a cocky grin as she walked past. She had expected- no, she had hoped for- a reply, but none came. Fine, she thought, ruin any chance of fun for me today.
She walked down the hallway, plain and covered with advertising posters, stopping to look at the ones that caught her attention. She was in no hurry to get to the office- she doubted they were in a hurry to interview her- and it wouldn't make any difference to her if she was late. Or later. This building was as boring as the people in it.
They have see-through doors. Whose idea was that? Well, I guess they don't want any secrets.... yeah, right. That kind of policy must be great for their business.
The name on the door was McMahon- this was the room she was looking for. She tried the knob. Locked. What the hell is going on here? Did the receptionist try to pull something on her? Maybe she wasn't as dead as she appeared to be. One more sharp twist on the doorknob. Yes, it was still locked.
"Vince is in a meeting. Are you Ms. Smith?"
She turned and met a tall man, about her age, who gave her a friendly smile. A little too friendly, she thought, time to deflate his good time. "Yes, I am. Are you his secretary? I was told to be in his office." Another showing of her grin, and the man gave her an oddly amused look.
He gave her an intrigued smile and offered a hand. "I'm his son. It's nice to meet you too." She shook his hand reluctantly, giving him a suspicious look. "I can take you to the free meeting room- he'll be in shortly to interview you." He nodded past her and started walking down the hallway.
She followed him silently, still looking at the posters. Well, I've found one person in the building who has a sense of humour and isn't dead inside- not quite. And, on the plus side, he's got a nice ass. She couldn't help but grin a little, just enough that the corners of her mouth twitched.
"I think you're the only one who finds this place funny." He had stopped and was looking at her with a small smile.
Does he ever stop smiling at people? Hate to let you know, but you're the only one who's enjoying this. "I wasn't laughing at this place- nothing in here is the least bit funny... or even alive." She shook her head and glanced at another poster before meeting his eyes again, who cares if he's got no clue what I'm talking about? He looked at her, eyes a deep, thoughtful brown, and she didn't give him a chance to reply.
"Anyway, is this the meeting room you were talking about?"
He nodded and took his eyes from hers, his heart was racing and she knew it- something about her always did that to people and she never minded. "Yeah, go on in." He opened the door for her- oh, what a gentlemen, she thought dryly- and she stepped inside.
Must've been a quick meeting, hadn't this guy just told her it would be a while? There was Mr. McMahon, and the three other men in the room didn't matter to her. He was the boss, the one she had to convince into giving her a job- another meaningless task she'd hate but do long enough to make a couple of paychecks. Then she'd probably move again, maybe to California this time- if she could get the cash.
"Good afternoon, you must be Ms. Smith. I'm Vince McMahon..." He shook her hand strongly and proceeded to introduce all the men in the room. She merely nodded, she didn't care about their names, and gave him a slight smile.
I'm really starting to hate being called Ms. Smith. Why don't they just call me Danielle? Hell, I'll even let somebody call me Cassidy without bitching them out. "Just call me Danielle," she said with a smirk.
"Okay, Danielle." Vince said pleasantly. "Now, we've got a lot of questions to ask you. We don't use plain forms here at Titan Sports, it's better if we hear your own answers." She nodded- this was so pointless- and ignored his son's eyes. Maybe I should've listened to what his name was, I've got a feeling I'll see him again.
"First, we'll need your basic personal profile. What's the name on your birth certificate?" She gave him an odd look, why was that important?, and he gave her a quick explanation. "We do a basic background check on our employee's, just to make sure-"
"To make sure I'm not a psycho who just wants to jump your body builder wrestlers?" His eyes went wider, and she gave him her crooked grin.
"Well, I suppose that's one way of putting it," he said uncomfortably. "Can you tell me your full name?"
She grinned still and held back a laugh- this just might be a fun afternoon after all. "Cassidy Danielle Smith," she said, leaning back in her chair. "I'm Canadian all the way, have no children, am desperate for a paycheck, and don't you dare ask me if this is my natural hair colour."
That caught him off guard, and she heard one of the other men cough nervously. "That's certainly nice to know," he said after a pause. "Well, what do you have for specialized education? We need to decide what use you could be here at WWF Inc."
She paused for a second, nothing was going to get him off his planned speech. And, specialized education? "I've never been to college, if that's what you're asking."
"What about high school?" he asked.
"Grade eleven," she said with a smirk. "School and me didn't agree." There goes all the good jobs, I'll probably get stuck doing something like cleaning. Maybe this interview wasn't the best idea I've ever had...
"That's going to present quite a problem, Ms. Smith," Vince McMahon said, giving one of the men a shake of his head. She couldn't tell if it was funny or disappointing, so she didn't react to it. "We'll call you if anything comes up, but I wouldn't wait by the phone."
She raised one eyebrow at him, and had to bite her tongue to keep from replying how she wanted. "Thank you for the wonderful interview," she said sarcastically. "I'll let myself out." And with that, she stood up and walked out- jobless but still with her pride.
Walking past those advertising posters again, she actually noticed some of the names. Stone Cold Steve Austin- some bald beer seller who needed a good workout; The Undertaker- a huge morbid looking tattoo freak; maybe not getting a job here wasn't a bad thing. Besides, she could probably find another job in the next few weeks.
The receptionist watched her walk out, with a smirk that Danielle wouldn't look at. She was agitated and walked fast, but was stopped in the parking lot by a firm hand on her shoulder. Turning, she met Vince's son again, who gave her a nervous grin.
His hair looks messed up- did he run after me? She gave him a curious look and studied his short brown hair. "Can I help you?" she said, resting one hand on her hip and raising her right eyebrow.
"You... you didn't give them a contact number, in case they need to call you about a job." He gave her a piece of paper and a pen, and his constant grin relaxed.
"They won't need it....ah... what's your name again?" She knew Mr. McMahon had said it during the- very short- interview, but she couldn't think of what it was.
He offered his hand again, and she shook it cautiously- she really didn't like everyone shaking her hand. "Shane, and I wouldn't be so sure they won't call you. There are a lot of positions available, but most of them are very..."
She rolled her eyes. "Pointless? Boring?" she offered, then took the paper from him and quickly wrote her name and number on it. He laughed and took it- and he read it, don't get too excited and call me- and put it into his suit pocket. "Nice meeting you, Shane," she said with a nod, and then got into her car.
OCTOBER 1996
Danielle hadn't heard from anyone at the Florida branch of Titan Sports. Not that she was surprised at all, and she already been able to get another job. It wasn't her dream- what kind of weirdo would actually want to work in a convenience store?- but it was going to pay the bills. She could still stay in Miami; she was starting to enjoy the people, places, and the very warm weather; and she'd had little trouble finding an apartment when she first arrived.
She stood in front of the mirror and looked at herself with a sigh. Sometimes she really hated the way her life went- especially in the job search. Maybe if she had only...never mind, she had to get ready for work.
Casual black pants hugged her hips and made her long legs seem slimmer. She was wearing a pair of red pumps- her favorite shoes- and they made soft thumps on the plain floor as she walked back into the bedroom. She wore a sleeveless red shirt that moved with her and exposed her tattoo. She only had one, the Canadian flag, and it was on her upper right arm.
Her entire body was tall and lean, almost like a swimmer but with more curves- something she never complained about. She was about 5'10 the last time she checked, and she looked like an athlete despite not working out.
She had her hair- a long mane of amazingly red hair that no one believed was natural- pulled into a ponytail and then in many small braids. Her lipstick was a matching shade of red that brought out her pouted lips. Lost people were amazed by her looks, but nothing compared to when they first saw her eyes. They were a deep, electric blue, another colour that people wouldn't believe. She could sometimes make people stop and stare at her eyes, one coy bat of her lashes and they were hooked. She could tell Shane McMahon has been attracted to her eyes- but she ignored that. Of all the things she didn't need right now, a business man headed the top of that list.
Picking up a necklace from the dresser, Danielle clasped it around her neck as the finishing touch. A small silver heart around her neck, and it matched the ring she always wore on her left hand- a sterling silver birth stone ring. Her birthday was July 23rd, 1975, making her 21 and wearing a small ruby.
She was just opening the door to leave when the phone rang. Should I go back and answer it- and be late for work? Or, should I just go to the store and they can call back later? She grinned, hell with work, it should only take me a few minutes. I'll probably be late anyway, unless I can get across town in five minutes.
By the time she got to the phone, it was on it's fourth ring. They must be very desperate, she thought as she picked up the receiver. "Hello?" she said, pulling her pack of cigarettes from her pocket and getting one out.
"Is this Ms. Danielle Smith?" It was a rough man's voice, very commanding and serious, and she knew she'd heard it before. It wasn't anyone she really knew, maybe just an acquaintance...
"Yes, it is. Who's this?" That was voice was so familiar, she thought, holding the cigarette between her lips and searching for a lighter. Where did I put that damn thing?
"This is Vince McMahon, from Titan Sports. We had an interview about a month ago, and a position on our crew had just opened up."
Her mouth fell open, and her cigarette fell to the floor. They're actually calling me about a job- Vince himself? This has got to be a joke... "Mr. McMahon," she said in shock. "I wasn't expected a call back, you must be very desperate for employee's."
He chuckled. "We didn't expect to call you back," he said bluntly. "But, there's a job open, we've had few applications- and surprisingly, you were the best out of them."
She let out a laugh. "You've got to be kidding me! First, I get a call from you- instead of your charming receptionist, and now you're offering me a job?"
"Yes," he said. "I'll admit it's unusual. Marie, the receptionist, is up to her ears in papers already, and I decided to call you myself to save time."
Danielle nodded, even if he couldn't see it. "What position are we talking about, anyway? Just so you know, I'm already employed- so I won't be leaving my job right now... unless it's worth it." Now, where'd that smoke of mine go? And the lighter...
"For someone who's in need of a good job- you're being quite picky."
She raised her eyebrows. "And for someone who needs employee's- you're being quite a smart ass." Grinning, she bent and picked up her cigarette and dusted it off. That'll show him.
Mr.McMahon laughed again. "You've got a lot of spunk, and I think you'll fit in nicely with the WWF if you watch that mouth of yours."
"You still haven't told me what job we're talking about, Mr. McMahon." She finally found her lighter, and she lit her cigarette with ease. "Will I need all of my high school qualifications for this kind of work?"
"You'll be assembling and disassembling the wrestling ring, along with some other backstage odd jobs."
Way to deflate my balloon, she thought. The next thing through her mind was: What do I have to lose? It couldn't possibly pay worse than this job. She smiled. "You've got yourself a deal. When do I start?"