2013.09.16 - That Didn't Go So Well

During a quick break as she hurried out to get bakery Monday afternoon, Fern sent a text to Warren Worthington (the third, not his father) asking if she could stop by and see him after work tonight, around six or so. The reply was in the affirmative, so upon leaving Staten Island she headed to The Dorilton instead of going right home to Harlem. The walk from the subway station is brisk, and Fern smiles as she approaches the doorman on duty and goes through the motions of getting admitted and heading up to the penthouse. In the elevator she hums softly to herself, in good spirits. 
Since he agreed to come home and meet Fern, Warren made good on that promise. He's at home with enough time to change out of his suit into something a little more casual...which is mostly just a pair of cargo pants. It's still warm enough that he doesn't need a shirt yet and it's much more comfortable without one, even with their particular tailoring. 
Once the doorman buzzed that Fern was coming up, he...didn't open a bottle of wine. No, he actually got some hard cider to see if she liked that better.
Fern's excitement is given away by the little hop that takes her off the elevator and to the inner door, her knocking quick and sharp. She's dressed a little more conservative than is usual for her... her dress is still brightly colored, but there's a scarf added to minimize the expanse of the scooped neck, and she's got purple flats on to go with it. Her trusty bag is slung across her body, bumping lightly on her hip as she shifts her weight. 
"Door's open," is called at the knock. Warren comes back inside from the balcony and moves to greet Fern at the door, "To what do I owe this pleasurable surprise? You're not working the dinner shift tonight?"
The voice has Fern breezing in, unslinging her bag to drop it near the door before she turns and catches sight of Warren, already talking, "Well, I have some news to share, so I thought..." The words fade and she pauses for a moment, before her eyes lift to his face and her smile comes back fully. "I thought I'd see if you were free tonight." Oh sure, she's seen Warren shirtless before, but it always seems to give her that moment pause although it's never been quite so noticeable. 
"Did you get into a show? The revival of 'Les Miz'?" Warren grins and watches Fern as she arrives so breezily. Maybe he did sort of plan the whole 'half-naked' thing because he liked seeing her reaction as well as it being for his own comfort. "Here, I got some hard cider...thought you might like it better than the wine. If not, that's all right too...and I'm free tonight, sure."
There's effort put into keeping her eyes on Warren's face, but Fern manages it admirably, shaking her head at the questions, her smile turning to a wry twist of her lips. "No, unfortunately." She sighs and admits, "I didn't want to tell you, but the producers for the tv show decided they wanted to go in 'another direction'. But they'll keep my information." Her voice clearly shows that she thinks that not very likely. "I'd like to try the cider," she says agreeably, before she nods. "Anyway, I wanted to tell you what did happen in person." She doesn't advance into the room any farther, leaving a good several steps between herself and Warren. 
Warren Worthington winces, "Damn, I'm sorry. I was really hoping you'd get that break." He brings over a bottle of the cider then and offers it to her, "What did happen? And in person?" Blonde brows draw down, "Should I be concerned?"
Blue eyes shift as Warren gets the bottle, but by the time he's walking toward her with it Fern has looked away, finally moving into the room and reaching to take it. She veers almost immediately to sit on the sofa. "No, it's a good thing that happened," she says, attempting to ease his drawn brows. "Something I've been thinking about for a while. I'm going to be Justin's personal assistant." 
Warren Worthington pauses as he was on the way to fetch his own bottle when Fern spills her news. "Justin...Hammer?" He doesn't look terribly at ease with this news. "I'm glad that you won't be waitressing, but...what will be your responsibilities? And what about Acting? And does he know that we're dating?"
"Justin's a great guy," Fern says, totally oblivious to the shady dealings and somewhat challenged morals of her friend. "And the pay... wow, it's incredible. I'll be able to move to a better neighborhood. I'm going to help keep track of his meetings and things. Personal assistant things. He's still going to give me time to go on auditions, he's very supportive and thinks it's just a matter of time." She pauses to take a sip of the cider, then sets the bottle down. "We don't talk much about personal things like that," she answers honestly. Of course, up until hiring her, Justin thought he was dating her, and Fern adamantly refuses to say she's 'dating' anyone. 
"Have you...done that sort of stuff before?" Warren asks carefully as he brings over his own bottle. Coasters are set out in case she wants to put her bottle down somewhere. "So if you get into a show, you won't be working for him anymore? And I really think that you might need to mention this 'personal thing'." He knows a lot of 'personal assistants'.
Fern shakes her head, then pushes her hair back absently, "No, I've only worked at Anita Bella and an ice cream place back home. But I did help Dad out with paperwork sometimes and stuff." She doesn't sound very concerned at her own lack of experience. "Jack will help me, he's Justin's driver and he's been doing all this stuff, too. Today went really well," is added, as if reassuring Warren. "Well, I'd probably just be on a leave of absence, if I do the job well enough. We haven't really talked about that." Mostly because she's discouraged enough with it right now that she doesn't think it'll be an eventuality. "Mention us? He knows that we're friends and that we hang out." 
"Is that what we are? Friends who hang out?" Even after the flowers and dinners and kissing? Warren may not be as excited as Fern seems to be, "Look...I'm glad that you're searching for a new job, but...I just..." He tries to figure out how to say it without driving her away. "How would you feel if I hired a pretty, young, inexperienced personal assistant?"
There's a soft sigh, but it's not impatient, and Fern frowns lightly, but her voice is gentle. "Warren, there's nothing between Justin and I like that. I like him in an entirely different way, and it's the same for him." The implication being that it's in an entirely different way than Warren. Then there might be just a little defensiveness in her tone as she says, "And maybe I'm just good at this." The first questions, saved, are the hardest to answer. Half-naked Warren doesn't really help her thought process much, either. "No," she says softly, "That's not all we are. But I'm not ready to call it something." 
"I would bet that it's not the same for him if he's creating this job for you. I'm betting he's going to use your position as a way to get much closer to you...because you're going to feel beholden to him. Or he can take away your job and your income and your new place." Warren doesn't even sit as he already has a feeling this isn't going to end well. "Look, maybe I'm wrong, but I know how people like him think. I grew up with that. I'm surrounded by it every day."
Fern looks slightly wounded, protesting, "Justin wouldn't do that. He doesn't want to get into my pants, and he wouldn't use me like that." Her jaw tightens slightly. "Darnit, Warren, men and women can be friends without anything else going on. And especially with me working for him. I'm his employee and his friend, not his lover." She doesn't stand yet, still hoping this can calm. It's not at all how she had hoped it would go, and her excitement over a good first day has withered. 
"Successful, wealthy businessmen don't create jobs for their pretty, inexperience female-friends out of the kindness of their hearts, Fern," Warren also sighs, He was afraid of this. "Seriously. They'd help find her a job, they'd help get her training, but they wouldn't create a personal assistant role which would require her to be at his beck and call at all times. I know you think the best of people and I really hope you're right. But if you don't want to tell him about us or even define us...what's there to stop him if he thinks it's the perfect way to spend more time with you?"
"It's not a job that was created, it's a job that wasn't filled." Fern stands, not yet moving toward the door, "And I am good at this. I might be new at it, but that doesn't mean I can't do it. I'm lucky to have a friend that has faith in me like he does, he could have gotten anyone to do this job. But he knows that I can do it, and be good at it." She's not angry, but she is stubborn, and she has more trust in Hammer than he likely deserves. 
"I have no doubt you will be stellar at the job, Fern. Just...don't say I didn't warn you." He's obviously not thrilled about the arrangement but he's not going to press it anymore. "I guess you won't have as much time to do things together." Although if they are 'undefined', does it matter?
Fern's posture eases and she shakes her head, "No... I mean, that's partly why I decided to change from waitressing. I'm sure I'll have to give Justin an evening now and then, if he needs me for a function or something, but I'll have more evenings free." She shrugs, "I didn't change jobs entirely for the money." 
Warren Worthington gives another sigh, "Personal assistants, especially in the Corporate world, aren't 9-5 jobs, Fern." He looks at the bottle in his hand before he takes a long swig of the drink. "He's probably trying to make you his new Pepper Potts..." because everyone knows what Pepper is rumored to do for Tony Stark.
There's a moment of silence as Fern looks at Warren, and her voice has tightened when she speaks. "Regardless of what Justin may or may not attempt, do you really think I'm that weak that I would just let someone do that?" She turns, stepping to the door, picking up her bag and turning back. "We still aren't at a place where you trust me." Her tone is softer, more resigned. "That's why we aren't 'dating'." 
"I don't think you're weak. Not at all," Warren leans against the table, "I trust you, Fern. I don't trust Justin. I also know that you're very kind and you don't want people to be hurt. I also think you are very trustworthy... maybe more than you should be with some people." He doesn't stop her from leaving... not yet. After all, he knows this is his fault this time. "I think you're a loyal friend and that is first and foremost to the point where you might only see what you want to see."
Fern stands still, looking at Warren. It would be a lot less distracting if he'd have put a shirt on, because she's only human. "I know you're concerned," she allows softly. "I appreciate that." Her eyes flick down, landing on Warren's stomach, and she immediately turns her head, shifting her bag strap up onto her shoulder. "I think I should go, it's been a long day, and I have to be up early tomorrow." 
Warren Worthington pushes a hand through his hair, "I'm sorry, Fern. You came here all excited about the new job and I totally just deflated that bubble. I'm sorry, I just... I'm afraid for you. I'm worried for you. I think you'll excel at the job, but... I also think you maybe don't know exactly what you've gotten into with working for him. I would have been happy to get you a corporate job, but I didn't think you'd appreciate that coming from me. Guess I screwed up again."
"I don't want to work for you, Warren," Fern says. She doesn't go on, but there's something left hanging from those words. It's a struggle, but she manages to reign in her impulsiveness, it leads to trouble too often, and losing that grip right now might lead to more trouble than they're ready for. Without looking her hand goes out, closing around the doorknob, gripping tightly. "It's ok, I understand. It shows that you care." 
"Yeah, but it still means you're going to walk out because I upset you and I won't know if you'll ever talk to me again or not," Warren points out. His wings sort of droop behind him as well. "I didn't think that you'd want to work for me, Fern. It's why I never offered. You struck me as someone who wanted to really make it on their own and I wanted to support that."
That's not why she never wanted to work for Warren, but this isn't the time to argue that particular point. She raises one hand, rubbing her face lightly. She's not leaving because they disagreed right now, even if it might have begun like that. She's leaving now because if she stays here with him she can't guarantee she'll keep her impulses in check. But her eyes soften and she shakes her head, "I'm not going to stop talking to you over this. I like you more than a little disagreement can hurt." She's willing to give that much right now. "I'll call you tomorrow," she promises. It takes a second and some effort for her to turn the doorknob and head out, and she doesn't unclench her fist until she's out on the sidewalk, heading back to the subway station. 
Category:Log