|Roger Davies (pridechaser) wrote in impetuousrpg,|
@ 2011-12-09 18:28:00
|Entry tags:||char: fleur delacour, char: roger davies|
Who: Roger Davies and Fleur Delacour
When: Friday night
Where: Wizarding Club in Perth, VIP lounge
What: Strictly business.
Rated/Status: It's Fleur. And Roger. So some sexiness and f bombs, respectively. Incomplete.
Roger stepped into the club with Fleur at his side, feeling a little strange about it. There weren't any cameras here- at least none that were interested in him. The other players caught a bit of attention, but unless someone had a weird, rabid interest in the English League, no one remotely knew who he was. For all intents and purposes, he was just some guy tagging along with the team. And it was nice. He felt a little pang of guilt- or, something close to it, that Mandy wasn't here. He didn't know what he was going to do with that. But Fleur- he wasn't going to feel guilty about it. This was business. Nothing else. At least that's what he was going with.
He'd asked her to come looking sexy, but professional. She'd achieved something close to every man's idea of a hot librarian. Not quite what he'd imagined, but he wasn't about to complain. It would work, for tonight. And the glasses made him smile.
"Gentlemen," Roger said in greeting when they took their seats at the table- because this was Quidditch. It was a boys' club, they met in places like this, they talked important, expensive contracts over drinks. "I'd like to introduce Miss Fleur Delacour, my scouting associate. She's just arrived from London this morning." He didn't know if Fleur had legally changed her name back but like hell was he ever going to call her Fleur Weasley. He glanced at her next to him and smiled, not sure how well this was going to work, but she was a wild card, and he needed one if they were going to repair the rest of the season. And there wasn't anything in the rules stating veela influence wasn't allowed. Probably because no one had ever tried it. As long as Fleur kept out of the conversation and just looked pretty, maybe no one would catch on that she couldn't tell the difference between a Quaffle and a Snitch.
He glanced around at the assembled players and agents, team coaches. "So, obviously, all of this is off-the-record until we draw up formal contracts Monday. But we're prepared to make a real offer tonight, let you mull it over, sign Monday." The drinks started going around, and everyone leaned in and started talking business. If things started to go south, there was Fleur and her cleavage.