Log:The Pledged Goon pt 1

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The Pledged Goon pt 1

Jeremy and Peyton

14 May, 2018

Peyton makes a job offer to Jeremy that includes legit work and an off-the-books violence outlet.


Crown and Stone Shipping

The sun has been up for a few hours, and the temperature starting to rise and greet it. In this, though, the workers of Stone and Crown Shipping have beaten nature; they were up before the sun, already loading delivery trucks, stuffing packages into shipping containers, etc. Peyton was not here for the first beeping of the backing up semis, or the firing up of electric engines on the fork lifts. No, Peyton came sometime after, having had a brief bit of rest from her shift dancing and making her way here after getting made presentable.

The Alexander woman now sits behind one of the desks, her legs curled into the chair so she's sitting with all the posture of a kindergartner on a floor mat. A faded blue sweater with three-quarters sleeve and a v-neck gives her at least a modicum of business-casual, paired with some black leggings and patent-leather pumps. A pair of Galaxybucks coffee cups are on the desk, one already with lipstick on the white plastic lid. At least it's easy to see which one is hers.

And Jeremy, of course, has been contacted. A few texts and Peyton has asked him to come down and have a chat. And to bring his resume. So maybe it's more of an official interview.

At the moment, Jeremy doesn't have a whole lot else going on in this small town. There's only so much to do, generally, so that isn't a huge surprise. And he could certainly use whatever Peyton may have on offer. So it's no surprise that the does show up when invited, dressed a bit nicer than his normal combination of clothes. He makes his way through the place up towards the office and inside where he spots the woman that he's looking for. He does have a manilla envelope in hand. Stepping on over towards the desk he flashes her a smile, "Hello again. Good to see you."

Peyton looks up from the screen (where, truth be told, she was not looking at much in the way of work-related material), and smiles at Jeremy. "Well, I admit I was a little unsure if you'd show up. But I'm glad you did. Didn't know how you'd take your coffee though. Or if you did at all." She nudges the extra cup towards the far side of the desk, having to lean forward to do so. "How's Fort Brunsett treating you? Bored out of your fucking mind yet, sugar?"

"I think we had a nice time chatting the other evening. Seemed like a good idea to me to come and pay you a visit. And I like my coffee like I like my women. Strong but with enough sweetness to chase after more," Jeremy says to her with a grin as he takes the coffee and has a little sip to get that initial bit of caffeine. "It's been okay. It's pretty quiet out here...But yeah, it's taking some getting used to being somewhere where /nothing/ happens," he comments, settling into the seat across from her. He captures her gaze then, "You have some suggestions?"

"And here I thought I was expecting rejection for being a white girl," Peyton remarks, off-handedly. It's probably a good thing she's just borrowing a desk and not really a legitimate employee of the organization. What an HR nightmare! She leans to the side in the chair, the furniture squeaking a little, and rifles around in the paper bag on the floor nearby. A handful of sugar packets are brought out and cast upon the desk for Jeremy to use.

"Yeah, I told you I'd have something if you're willing to do some work for the family," Peyton answers without flinching away from the held gaze. "We've been here...fuck, almost forever. Since the late 1800s, my nan used to tell me." Ok, so relative definitions of forever. "This place, Stone and Crown, has been our enterprise since 1890. The bar came sometime after. I know neither is to the liking of everyone, but... I thought we could come to an arrangement that'd at least see you settled into a bit of cash and the occasional way to spend your days or nights."

Even with a hint of mischief in her eyes, Peyton tries to keep a mostly polite, professional appearance. "You more a physical sorta guy, or a talker?"

Jeremy grins at her comment as he takes the sugar packets from her hand. Grasping the ends and shaking them from side to side until he rips then open and pours in the sugar into the black pool of coffee. Swirling it or a moment he blows so that the steam blows into the room before he takes a sip, looking over the brim of the glass into her eyes. "Seems like you would taste pretty good to me."

HR problems no doubt. "As I said I am definitely looking for work....I could use the cash and definitely sitting with my hands fiddling around all day. Don't like it at all when I'm not doing something.." he comments before taking another sip. "Physical. I don't mind talking to people, but I feel like you'd more want to use me for my body."

Laughing, Peyton agrees, "I do," before she has a drink from her coffee again. "Gimme the resume. I know we talked a bit at the bar, but Pop said I need to make this look official if I do it." She leans forward again, holding out her hand for the manila envelope he brought in.

"It'll go something like this, Jeremy. I'll get dad to hire you here as a loader, for now. You'll help move boxes and crates around. Show off your muscles. Get sweat. You know, manly stuff and all that. That comes with a base pay that's a little above minimum wage, some basic benefits, forty hours or more of work a week, most of the year." Peyton smiles. "That's because I'm super supportive of vets and all that, right? Just helping you get on your feet."

Now Peyton begins to grin, almost Cheshire like. "But, there might be times I need favors done. Messages delivered with some real conviction to associates expressing my displeasure. Or aggressively showing my dissatisfaction on someone that tried to run off with something of mine. If you do those, that kind of work comes with a bonus, paid on successful completion of the task at hand. And some private healthcare benefits you aren't getting on the standard plan."

Jeremy slips the folder into her hand, settling it into her grasp. Should his hand brush hers as he does, that is all professional business related physical contact. Right? "I do appreciate people who love our vets. Makes me sweet with patriotic pride," he says to her with a bit of a grin. "I don't mind moving boxes around though and putting in the hard work...I am pretty reliable with work like that," he says as he leans back a bit in his seat as he looks at her. "And...I can be pretty reliable with that other sort of work as well. I don't stick my nose too far into things like that or complain....And I prefer just to get results and move onto the next job. So you won't have too many issues on that front if you need a message clearly delivered."

If his hand touches hers, well, that's that. No protest from Peyton. She starts to peruse the file given, but really it looks more a formality than anything else. She probably doesn't know what half of it is. Or can only take a vague guess. "And what would you like for yourself out of such an arrangement?" the Changeling asks.

"Well, I do want to get paid. But I was hoping to really find something I could occupy myself with...I don't want to let my skills and wits go dull out here in the country. Hopefully you can do your best to keep one of America's finest entertained," Jeremy offers her with a bit of a smirk as he takes another sip of coffee before setting it onto the table. "I'd hate to get too restless out here. Wouldn't be good for the rest of the town."

"Are you likely to blow shit up, Jeremy?" Peyton asks. She puts the resume down on the desk and turns her full attention back to the ex-soldier. "I'm certain we can keep you entertained enough you don't go completely out of your mind and start causing chaos. I'll have an employment contract drawn up. Should be ready in a few days and you can come back by and check it out, sign on the dotted lines."