Monday Morning Staff Meeting || Phoebe

[Deleted]

It was still early when Jasper arrived to the conference room. A young woman was still setting out pastries, fruit, and rolling in the trolley bearing the heavy urn of coffee from the cafe downstairs, along with a stack of paper cups and a bag of creamers, sugar packets, and stir-sticks. She smiled brightly at Jasper, who took little notice of her as he went to his chair at the head of the table and sat down, laying out his folder and papers on the table and setting down the cup of tea he'd brought for himself from home in a travel-mug--not trusting any Americans to make it properly.

Several minutes passed, and Jasper was so absorbed in going over his notes that he didn't hear the girl clearing her throat until finally she spoke up, and he raised his head, irritated at the interruption.

"...can I get anything else for you, Mr. Wolfe?"

"No, that will be all," he said sharply, his eyes immediately returning to his paper-work. The door had clicked shut before he looked up again, forcing out a hasty "...thank you!" much too late for anyone to hear it. Not that he needed to forge a friendly rapport with the people who poured coffee for a living, but Jasper had to continually remind himself that not everyone had had the same chances he'd been given--and almost entirely without asking for them.

His mobile phone buzzed sharply, and he glanced down at the number before picking it up and holding it to his ear, pushing away from the table and going to stand by the large windows overlooking the street, one hand in his the pocket of his suit trousers as he took the call.

"Jean-Michele, ça va? Oui...alors, j'ai dit Damien--" The conversation continued in moderate tones, with only the slightest pauses betraying Jasper's not-quite-fluency.

[Phoebe Campbell]

Most of the writers, even the ones who had been on the payroll for a few years, struggled with the odd hours that Friday Night Live provided when the show was running. Super late nights (sometimes late night writing sessions or the after party going through the evening and until 9 AM) followed by super early mornings on most days that is except for Sunday which they had off to recover from the week or the hangover. Usually the hangover. Phoebe was one of the few 'morning people' on staff greeting everyone in the lobby, elevator, and hallway with a big toothy smile and excited little wave like she was seeing them for the first time in months instead of the reality which was a few hours ago tongue thrust into some coworker stradled on a bar stool or booth. Sometimes Phoebe would point that out like today when she passed by Leo one of the cue card guys and instead of a normal hello pointed at him with a big smile "Hey Leo! You made it in. Glad that you managed to get Rachel from accounting off of your lap! Good work!" and kept walking because to her this was normal. Most people as she greeted them were too tired to react except for @samanthapilkington who has usual raced up to her and gave her a big hug. Thank God for Sam.. If Phoebe believed in God that is. She was still figuring that one out.

Upon entering the conference room she made a beeline for the usual stack of treats and snacks scooping up a muffin, a few berries, and a whole bunch of grapes. She didn't bother with the plate choosing instead to hold the items in her arms like a newborn hording them all for herself (and her best pal - a fellow writer) when he came along. This was more of the same and honestly it was a routine that Phoebe could never become sick of it. How lucky were they? Working at one of the most famous television shows of all time!

She immediately noticed Jasper by the window (Geeze did he literally have to act like some sort of king looking out at his kingdom?) and plopping down in one of the chairs she began to spin around boredly all while shoveling grapes into her mouth. Becoming impatient with being ignored, as well as probably an underlying small case of ADHD, she began to hum to occupy herself now twirling around in the chair even faster. This wouldn't do. Still lazily spinning she began to toss grapes in the air trying to catch it in her mouth... Failing each and every time though she was probably succeeding in being distracting to Jasper (something others might fear but Phoebe had been a writer on the show for a while - she wasn't necessarily worried.. She was too oblivious to be). Noticing the look she was being given, plus how empty the room was, she froze and looked around. "What? Am I early?"

[Deleted]

Jasper heard someone enter the conference room behind him, but he didn't bother immediately turning around--firstly, he was still in the middle of his conversation with Jean-Michele, and secondly, he could see perfectly well in the reflection of the glass that it was only Phoebe Campbell, one of the writers. He supposed she must be a morning person, of sorts, whereas most other people would be a bit more sluggish getting into work for a meeting first-thing on a Monday morning. It wasn't that early meetings on Mondays particularly appealed to him, either; but he had a reputation to establish in America, and one of the swiftest ways to impress people was to socialize as late as possible and still manage to begin work as early as possible. If rumours began to spread that he didn't sleep...well, that just proved it was working. If sleep was a human need, to appear as if he did not require it would make him seem super-human. And a little of that kind of impression went a long way, with a lot of people.

"...assurément--merci. À bientôt."

He ended the call and turned around in time to see the woman bouncing grapes off her own face, and while he didn't exactly frown, there was something in his squint that was more than a little bemused by her manners. He'd crossed paths with Phoebe Campbell a few times since his arrival, and while she seemed generally harmless and her comedy work spoke for itself in the show, there was a certain amount of eccentricity about her that he wasn't used to--and he was English.

"No, no, not too early," he said, feeling it was necessary to respond as he sat back down in his chair and began to scroll through emails on his iPhone, reaching for his tea to take a sip. A beat of silence fell, and it was just awkward enough that he realized he ought to say something else. Right. Small talk. You're British--you were taught how to make polite conversation the moment you babbled out anything remotely resembling a proper word. "...had a good week-end?"

[Phoebe Campbell]

Phoebe leaned back in the rolling chair glancing at the wall behind her as she chewed on a juicy grape tapping her hands against her thighs to the tune of some song she had made up in the moment. No wonder as a kid most teachers worried about her and told her parents that she might have ADHD. She was bright but couldn't sit still for long periods especially in a session where someone said "sit still" but was this a condition or just stubbornness and the desire to beat to one's own drum? That was up to debate. Sucking in her left cheek out of impatience she cast her glance back on Jasper watching him continue the call like she wasn't even there. Bless his heart (though it annoyed her sometimes) that the man could carry on like business as usual even with her carrying on like she did. Most other folks would have given up by now and either entertained her fun or stormed off in annoyance. Hey! What was he talking about anyways? Must be something important and definitely something she'd want to spread around the office to her friends if only she could hear what it was... Oh that's right. He had an accent. Phoebe was like most other women in the sense that she rather liked hearing it. It was something different from the usual flat and harsh tones the other males in the office used to convey their points. Like being louder made them right-er... er.... 

"Early enough. Nobody's here." She stated the obvious with a dramatic raise of her brows and gesticulation of her hands as if her being the first one in the room was the worst thing in the world. Phoebe didn't see herself as eccentric, or quirky, or even odd. She was who she was and had been, she assumed, since the day she was born. She didn't know how to be any other way. Much to her dismay (and boredom!) Jasper seemed unaffected and, judging how focused he was on his phone, he didn't want to communicate to pass the time either. Now that wouldn't do! If she didn't chat with someone she would explode and it wasn't like Samantha was available. She wasn't called this early on her show and by the time she was she would be on set. Darn these USBC schedules! Who the heck made those up? Did she have a good weekend? "I was here." Her right brow raised in question as her voice came out flat. Flatter than recommended considering this gentleman technically outranked her as far as jobs went. The weekend before seasons started the crew was always asked to come around so there was no lull in energy in the first week because they were playing catch up. Jasper must have known that. Didn't he? Or was he so desperate for conversation? Oh well.. So was she.

"What kind of phone is that?" She broke the quiet unable to help herself but it seemed like the best segue into getting someone to talk. At least she had heard it used across the room at parties. Small talk. Ick. She was terrible at it. Luckily she had observing those instances to go off of. Perhaps not lucky for Jasper though. She'd need to regale her friend @charlotte about how painful this was later. "I just have a stupid flip." She fished her hand into her pocket retrieving the 'ancient' device and wiggled it from across the table so he could see. It wasn't like she couldn't afford a new phone (heck the station would have purchased one for her!) but she just tended to get attached to her belongings. She couldn't help it. Plus learning a whole new mobile device would be tricky and that made her nervous. "Where's that girl?" Alexandra was it? She suddenly felt sh**ty for not remembering her name. "The page. I like her." She decided in that moment pocketing her phone and crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned back in her seat.

SONG: Bad Idea - Waitress The Musical Soundtrack

[Deleted]

Jasper quirked one eyebrow when Phoebe flatly stated that there was 'nobody' there, despite two people being in the room, one of which was her boss, and the other...being herself. But he chose not to reply to that interesting choice of words. If he formulated a response to every oddity that fell out of Phoebe Campbell's irritatingly cute mouth, he'd never see the end of it.

Direct questions, however, were impossible to evade or politely ignore.

"...iPhone 7," he said. He cast an obedient glance at her phone as she got it out to show it to him, and stifled any comment about drug dealers which sprang to mind. After all, what she did in her own time was her own business. And it wasn't as if there was not a dizzying range of pharmaceuticals and less-than-legal options available throughout the USBC complex for anyone who wanted to find them. When there was exorbitant amounts of money being thrown around, mind-altering substances would surely follow. Jasper could count on one hand the number of people he knew who could face the cutthroat creative world entirely sober.

"I'm sorry, who?" he asked, his brow creasing lightly as Phoebe was off jabbering about...some girl. "--the--there was a girl who brought in the refreshments," he offered with a shrug. He had the suspicion that wasn't the right girl, but he could not for the life of him follow who on earth this woman meant. There were any number of lower-level employees skulking about the place at all hours, running errands or stealing office supplies or whatever it was they did to fill their time. Jasper hadn't much of a clue who any of them were, and certainly hadn't gone so far as to include them on the memo about the meeting. "...this morning's meeting is...more for upper-level staff," he pointed out. "Management, creative teams..." He made a vague gesture which both indicated Phoebe herself as well as encompassing the entire, still-almost-entirely-empty room.

[Phoebe Campbell]

"iPhone 7?" She repeated making no effort to hide the level of stunned in her voice. "But that just came out!" Well duh Phoebe. That's why you saw posters at every subway stop for it. Advertising it. Supply and demand. They were smart over at Apple making only just enough available so others would desperately want it and be willing to shell out any amount of cash for it. Jasper most likely had cash to burn/spare. He probably had a whole kitchen drawer filled with iPhone 7s just so he could have them and others couldn't because of a power move. Besides what would Jasper do with a kitchen anyways? He didn't strike her as the sort to cook for himself. No, he looked more like a pick up the iPhone 7 and place an order on Seamless kind of fellow... Or have a page do it for him. Among other things. Against her better judgement she held back another eye roll. No use in allowing him a glimpse of her inner monologue. That was something else to deal with entirely.

Who? Did he seriously not know who he worked with. Even if she was a page surely this was someone that he saw every day. "The page." She repeated insistently. Let him find the answer all by himself. Prove himself. Really she just wanted to see if he was really that thick. "Do you know her name?" What? Of course he didn't. Then again he was always this dismissive. Maybe he was just toying with her. "You don't do you?" Gross. Just gross. "Gross." Uh oh. Maybe she should have kept that inside. "I think her name is Jy.. Something." Great now she couldn't even back up her own point all because she couldn't pronounce a name. Shoot. Well, it was the girl's own fault for having a tricky name. "She's nice." She kept the defense up not wanting to admit that she may have been incorrect and shifted in her chair.

Arms still crossed over her chest she looked around in the direction that his arm had gestured like he could magically make people appear. No such luck. "There's not a lot of upper level staff is there?" She asked flatly before her eyes grew bigger and she looked at Jasper. "Wait. I'm upper? Since when?" She wasn't sure she wanted to be upper (it sounded stuffy) but also it was kind of neat. She was upper. Way to go Pheebes! But what to say now while they waited for the other 'uppers'? What did uppers even talk about? "What did you do this weekend?" The horror as those words left her mouth. When did she become so... dull? What she wouldn't give to take it back.

[Deleted]

It wasn't the first time he'd been sneered at by employees--it was rare, but it happened--and Jasper was fairly able to take it in stride, given that Phoebe didn't seem to have any sort of filter, and so she supposed she must just insult people all the time without entirely being aware of it. It was like a condition. Gabbycowosis. If he was disgusting for not knowing the name of one of the many, many people who happened to exist in the same building without directly being involved in the production of FNL...well, she was half-disgusting for only knowing half the girl's name. If indeed that was any part of her real name, at all. If Phoebe Campbell wanted to feel like the bigger person, it wasn't any trouble to him to let her cling to any illusions of her own superiority. He knew who he was--and he was sitting at the head of the conference table, whereas she was twirling around in a seat halfway along the side like a bored schoolgirl.

"If I've been mislead as to the level of your contributions to the show, by all means, enlighten me," he said dryly. "The entire writing staff was included in the memo. If you're an intern in disguise who's just here for the free food--" His glance shifted ever-so-briefly to the products of her foraging at the refreshments table, strewn about in front of her. "--then clearly, I've made an error."

He turned his gaze back to his pile of papers and his phone, hoping that someone else would turn up soon, or pull the fire alarm to evacuate the building. He didn't mind which.

At her follow-up question he began to rub at the tension building somewhere behind his eyebrows.

"I had drinks with Michael Grandage before he flew back to London and I worked on budget-plans."

[Phoebe Campbell]

"What do you think I do?" Did he even really know? Sure she was a writer but did this producer know for how long? Did he know of what sketches? Did he know what awards she had one? Who her best friend was? Anything? Then again.. Why did she expect him to? Was she just trying to be defiant or did she actually want him to for some reason unknown to him. "Wait. Nevermind." She thought better of her challenge. Last thing she needed was him deciding that she didn't do enough around USBC and decrease her pay. The writers and crew got paid sh** as is. Bracing herself on the edge of the table table from where she sat she pushed herself around in a circle again. Whatever she had to do to entertain herself but the mention of food had her stopping and reaching over grabbing some cookies and more fruit. He sure had her pegged didn't he? But everyone became little monsters when something was free. Even the well paid producers wanted their share. Today was a lucky day because she was going to beat everyone to it.

Budget plans? More gross. "That doesn't sound very fun." There was that lack of a filter again. Giving one push on the table she rolled across the side of it in her seat before arriving next to him at the head. Her face bright her eyes big obviously not put off at all by the fact that he very much outranked her. "I meant what did you do this weekend that wasn't work?" She began to delicately pick through the pile of snacks in her lap, with no plate beneath, and held a cookie with both hands nibbling at it like a gopher eyes transfixed on him genuinely interested by the response. "You do stuff that isn't work, yeah?" She could have sworn she had seen him at last year's after party after the final episode of the most recent season. Sure he had been drinking something hoity toity out of a wine glass or flute but still.. He had been there. "Like.. What's your thing? Wait. Don't tell me.. I can guess." She crossed her legs using her fingers to gently rub her chin as if she was pondering something deep. "Golf. Or wine tasting." The FNL writer finally deduced and as though that was it and there was no question she began to roll away back to her spot.

[Deleted]

"Well, lately, it is mostly work," he said slowly, as if explaining something to a child, frowning up at Phoebe from his pile of papers. "When I came a few months ago, that was like a soft opening--a chance for me to observe and get my feet under me. Now the real work begins. So, no, I was neither golfing, nor wine-tasting."

Golf, he thought, was one of the stupidest sports known to man. Add to that the obscene amount of waste that went into grooming and watering the greens so that a select few retired managers could whack a ball the size of a walnut and fancy themselves thoroughly 'exercised' before hopping in a cart to take them to wherever their ball had landed. In America it was especially galling to see, given that the warmer southern states--where those select few retired managers had built whole gated communities for themselves--were prone to drought, and yet...there were the velvety green courses, dotted everywhere in the shimmering heat while everyone else went on a hosepipe ban for five months out of the year.

Wine, he had to admit, he occasionally enjoyed. Not that he'd ever swirled it around in his mouth before hocking it back into a pail.

"Do you enjoy spitting things into buckets as a recreational activity?"

If anyone did, it might be Americans.

[Phoebe Campbell]

Work. This man seemed to eat, breathe, sleep it. Like it was some sort of badge of honor to never have an ounce of fun and be buried by papers, signatures, and price quotas. Like whoever ended up killing themselves in the end by exhaustion was some sort of winner to be revered by all. Now Phoebe could understand drive and determination - She had a heck of a lot of it. But at the same time this seemed different somehow. This wasn't to create something awesome or something that resonated with people. This wasn't about product. This was about money and being the best. One could never 'be the best' not even after winning a series of awards especially where the public was involved. Someone always liked someone more, related to someone else, or thought you were god awful. You could drive yourself into the ground trying to be everyone's favorite. That couldn't be a happy life. Then again sitting across from him now it was difficult to even imagine him smiling without a pile of money and people bowing down in front of him.

"Do you do anything besides work though?" She might as well ask outright. She wasn't the sort of person to beat around the bush or hide any intentions or curiosities. How else could you learn if not by asking without fear? "I mean, maybe not golf because golf is stupid but you have to be into something that isn't.." Well... Any of this. She looked around the room allowing that to do the speaking for herself. He'd follow. He seemed bright enough.. Or he'd just throw a sarcastic remark back her way. Whatever. Typical brit. They read like a comedic spec script. That next remark of his had her eyes widen ever so slightly. Spit in a bucket? Yeah, honestly sometimes, but she figured this was supposed to be some sort of dig and she didn't want to give him even that much.

"Only for fun. Not to perpetuate a cowboy stereotype." And without missing a beat. "Aren't you going to have a spot of tea and crumpet while we wait for this whole meeting to get underway?" Really not the best way to speak to someone who had the power to fire you (or at least bring it to the head of the studio who could) but maybe there was some sort of silent understanding going on. At least she hoped so. "You sure you emailed everyone?" They were sure taking long if he had or she had just read it completely wrong. "If you did you didn't do it very well..." Now that was ballsy. God she wanted to spit right now but resisted the urge.

[Deleted]

Jasper raised an eyebrow at her direct query, but when it was followed by immediate needling about his being British, he needed no further encouragement to clam up about his personal life. It wasn't as if Phoebe Campbell had any right to know--or would care if she did. She was just scrabbling around for conversation to needlessly fill what could have been a comfortable silence with inane chatter.

He lifted the covered paper cup that was now rapidly cooling past a point of temperature at which is made an agreeable sort of drink to consume, and so he hastily took another gulp of it before it got stony and chilled and just sad. Iced tea...he shuddered inwardly. Ever since dumping it in a harbour, Americans just seemed more and more determined to screw up God's greatest brew.

"Tea," he said, thumping the cup back down after he'd swallowed. "And I'll give you five dollars if you can actually tell me what a crumpet is and how it's meant to be served."

"I had Candace send out the email," he said, coolly, though his eyes were now darkening with real irritation. "If you think I should replace my secretary, I'll certainly take your comments on board and give her the feedback."

[Phoebe Campbell]

Challenge accepted. She could use the five bucks anyways and didn't give an ounce of care if it made her look pathetic. Plus there was something almost fun about proving someone wrong especially someone who thought so highly of himself like Jasper did. Leaning over on the table she rested on her arms brown eyes on Jasper's face prematurely anticipating a response when she was able to best him... Maybe. "It's like a cake.. Or an english muffin." Or perhaps that was too on the nose. Even so she could picture it perfectly in her mind even if she couldn't adequately describe it to someone else no matter how much she wanted to. "Pony up." Her hand stuck out palm out wiggling her fingers expectantly. Maybe if she acted confidently he wouldn't question her description and would just give her the payment promised.

He seemed to know just how to get to Phoebe though because the mention of firing his young secretary and her eyes widening twice their side and her mouth gaping in horror. "Why would you do that? Don't do that!" She didn't want to be the reason that someone got in trouble. Jasper deserved the harassment not anyone else. Darn him for turning the tables on her! Wait.. She probably looked so pathetic. Giving him exactly what he wanted. Get it together Phoebes. Swallowing she sunk in her chair after taking in a slow inhale. "It's fine. I'm sure everyone has it and is just running late." They better be. She didn't want to worry about some nice secretary's livelihood if they didn't.

"The new hires seem nice." What else was there to say. Where was the connect between the two of them? How? All she knew was that she had to find one and quick. They still had so much time to kill especially if everyone was late because of trains. "Any idea who the hosts for the next two weeks is going to be?" Maybe this way she could prepare some sketches and pitches early so being alone with this nutter wasn't totally for naught. 

[Deleted]

"Wrong, and wrong," said Jasper, leaving his wallet in his pocket. Cake, good God...

Of course he wasn't going to fire Candace--he relied upon her too entirely for that, and she was frighteningly efficient--but even the mere threat of it seemed to have truly gotten under Phoebe's skin, so there was that.

"Indeed..." he said, taking another sip of his tea and feeling much more comfortably smug. "...I'm sure there were no problems with the email."

Jasper didn't have much of an opinion on the new hires--they had yet to prove themselves, this season. Of course they all showed promise--that was why they had been hired--but whether they could last and make a home for themselves at Friday Night Live remained to be seen.

"We're still waiting on confirmations from a couple of people's agents--I wouldn't want your team to get too stuck into certain individuals if the arrangement ends up falling through," he said, much more comfortable talking pure business than getting sucked into a vortex of ribbing with Phoebe Campbell, who likely thought herself the cleverest person in any room she happened to be in. Much as she might deride his workaholic habits, it was plain fact that that was what it took to run a show like this. There was too much riding on the continued success of FNL and the network for Jasper to be fiddling around and indulging himself with hobbies. At best these days he mixed business and pleasure and counted himself lucky when he could do so.

[Phoebe Campbell]

"It is not." Her eyes narrowed immediately at the producer across from her. Sure he might have outranked her, heck he was even British so he probably was well aware of what a crumpet was, but she wasn't about to sit there and take him being a jerk. Maybe he could get away with that with everyone else, especially the pages, but not with her. Phoebe had been at the station for years, longer than him, she had earned her place (females always had to work harder than the guys) so now she was on the defense. "I know what it is." But now she wasn't so sure due to the Producer's confidence as well as smugness and her voice gave a small crack hinting at this.

"Cutting it close aren't you? The first season is next week." If they wanted to get press releases out on social media they would have to do it soon so to drum up excitement about each episode. Then again maybe it had been the wrong thing to say (as was much of what she voiced). Jasper probably wouldn't appreciate her questioning his abilities. maybe try to back pedal. "So.. Do you have any family over here? What do they think about you working on such a long running show?" Surely they must be proud. British or not. "You should invite them to a taping. They could make a week of it. I brought my parents when I first started and I think they enjoyed the trip to New York more than the actual show!" Oh. Maybe that had also been the wrong thing to say. Oh well, it was true. Not her fault.

[Deleted]

That Phoebe Campbell seemed to pinball rapidly between plaguing the life out of him and trying to pry into his personal life (which was another kind of plague) was just leaving Jasper with less and less interest in trying to be polite.

"I do have some people on standby if I don't hear back from the agents today or if they give me a negative," he said. He wasn't completely flying by the seat of his pants, here. It was his job to have five different back-up plans, because plans one through four could go tits-up at any moment due to the involvement of many, many busy and temperamental people.

"My family's been to New York several times," he said flatly, before remembering he didn't want to reveal any more personal details for Phoebe to have as ammunition to use against him. "My wife and three kids prefer a quieter life in Britain," he lied.

As it was, he doubted his mother and sister would enjoy attending a taping--well, his sister, maybe. His mother would certainly be ill-at-ease among an audience of cheering, laughing Americans. Live studio audiences were really not her thing. Eleanor Wolfe hardly watched television at all, herself--for all her husband and son had made most of their fortune in the media. The odd costume drama could sometimes appeal to her, but lately, she complained, they had entirely too many people ripping their shirts off.