Starring:
Summary: Daisy comes to visit her new boss. A man that's all over the place. Literally.
Date It Happened: December 15, 2001
First Day
Jackson Estate
It's early morning as Daisy makes her way up to the door. Not crazy pre-dawn early, not milkman and newspaper delivery early, but early enough that the neighbourhood is still quiet, most people still in their robes and PJs, enjoying a lazy Saturday by reading the paper over a cup of fresh coffee. The only people about are those like herself, who serve at the pleasure of the rich. She straightens her blazer, runs a hand over her hair to make sure it's still neat, hitches up her attache case on her shoulder, and then rings the bell with her free hand. Her other hand carries a tray with two coffees, with a small white paper bag tucked into the space between them.
Nobody hears anything. At least, not at first. To put it simply, Jackson Archer's mansion is very much a wreck. The fact of the matter is that there was a party going on here last night and the aftermath is something that always scares the hell out of the cleaning up. Of course, that is until Jackson cuts a check to pay them for all the extra help.
Anyway, ringing the doorbell is very much annoying and one hung over female decides she wants to get up. Lacking the full entirety of her shirt, she stumbles over to the door and openly fumbles with the unlocked locks before pulling it open to see what is trying to disturb the great Jackson Archer.
"Oh!" Daisy says in obvious surprise, expecting maybe a butler or a maid, even a random associate, but certainly not a topless female. She bounces slightly on the balls of her feet, drawing in a breath before summoning up a smile and trying to just roll with it, even though she's speaking to the upper right corner of his door instead of looking at the half-naked woman. "Yes, hi! I was … I'm looking for Mr. Archer. I was told he was informed I'd be coming by today… I'm, um, I'm his new assistant?" There's that slight uncertainty there that has her asking the partygoer rather than informing her, but her voice remains perky throughout. "Is he … here?" She lowers her gaze just far enough to try and peek inside the structure.
Heather, that'd be the girl that's probably had more of Jackson than the others, seems to be trying to come down from her morning after high… or is it the night after the morning after. It's really hard to tell from the way the bodies are laid out over the floor. She stumbles slightly, before looking off towards the bedroom and giving a wild wave of her hand, "He's… over there… I think…" And yes, she would be moving back from the door to allow the woman entrance to the Palace of Archer. "Hope you got killer references, honey, because his last assistant was way bigger…" Yes, she's talking about: Up There.
Anyway, the door to the bedroom is pretty much wide open, because there's some drunk girl passed out in the doorway, which happens to be keeping the door open. Jackson, for all intents and purposes, is sprawled out on his bed (dressed, at least) and practically covered with other women. They're all fast asleep.
Must've been one helluva party.
Daisy steps inside with her coffee and breakfast pastry, trying at least not to look too scandalized by the apparent orgy she was fortunate enough to miss. It takes her a moment to process the woman's comment, her brow furrowing before eyebrows shoot up. "Oh, um, right. Thanks. For that. Over there, right?" She points and then follows her finger, not sticking around for more of this chit-chat. The drunk girl in the doorway gets a look of consternation, but Daisy finally just takes a big step over her, rapping lightly at the door with her knuckles on the way past. "Mr. Archer?" she calls out quietly, not wanting to venture too near the bed, considering. She takes in the scene, reconsidering. "Maybe I should come back later. I seem to have caught you at a bad time," she goes on, even though she doesn't expect him to hear.
Jackson is, well, something of a light sleeper. So his fingers twitch at the sound of the rapping at the open door. Of course, there's also the fact that he's lifting himself up to see if he can't catch sight of whomever is talking to him and calling him by the crazy name of Mr. Archer. Everybody else refers to him as Jackson or Jackie or Oh God Fu— nevermind. "Nnngh." The sound comes from Jackson as he shoves at some girl, literally pushing her off him and the bed, so that she falls to the floor with a loud thud. She doesn't get up, which probably means she's really knocked the F out. Must've been Tequila at this party. Jackson pushes all the way up into a sitting up position and blinks his eyes around as he tries to figure out just what in the holy hell happened in here…
"Oh!" Daisy remarks with some surprise as the girl goes tumbling from the bed. The Kansas native doesn't seem sure whether to rush forward to help her, but when the other girl still doesn't move, Daisy just frowns and looks back over at her new boss. "Good morning, Mr. Archer. I … didn't mean to interrupt," she goes on, still trying to act like this is some sort of ordinary morning. "We can reschedule if there's a time that will work better for you." A quick glance around tacks on: when there aren't drunk people everywhere and you're actually awake.
"Huh?" Jackson has to blink a little bit, stirring in his post-slumber and rubs his eyes. In the next moment, he's realizing what's happening and reaches for his watch on the bedside table. "What time is it…" Because his eyes are even focused enough for him to read his own overly expensive watch. "No no, we can do this now…" Jackson has no idea what he's even agreeing to, but it's a chick that's talking to him so it can't be that bad of an idea. And in the next moment, he's swinging his feet off the bed and they land on either side of the floored drunk girl's head. Jackson pauses, "What're we doin'?"
Daisy winces as he nearly steps on the drunk girl, making a few gestures but not quite sure what to say about the fact that he's almost standing on someone. So it takes her a moment to realize some questions have been asked. "Oh, um, I'm Daisy Garrison? Your new assistant?" She glances around the room and then back to him. "I … wanted to go over your schedule, like and dislikes… Are you /sure/ this is a good time?" she almost sounds like she hopes he'll ask her to come back later, so she can get out of this uncomfortable situation.
"Daisy? Garrison?" Jackson probably got so toasted last night he doesn't even remember what his own name is. That or he just didn't check his voicemail and thus never heard the message from the studio that they were sending someone over on this exact morning to do this exact thing and then the messages afterwards confirming that this exact thing was going to happen at this exact moment. "Oh. Right." That's Jackson's response, since he's going to choose to just pretend like this whole thing has been remembered. Another stretch of his muscled arms and he's stepping over the girl and towards the mirror, where he's checking to make sure his earring is in place. Stylin'. "So what's up? I gotta' be uh… on set or suntin'?" Yeah, this whole 'movie star' thing is still taking some getting used to.
Daisy nods in confirmation to both of those names, her eyebrows lifting slightly as she awaits recognition. Which she's not sure she believes when it finally comes. But she's going to roll with it, because what choice does she have. "Oh, no. Nothing like that. Do you … usually forget when you're supposed to be on set?" she gets side-tracked with, though it's less about judging him and more about wanting to make note if that's the case. "I was just coming by so we could have a preliminary meeting. I brought coffee?" She holds it up, like this will make things better. "You're sure this is a good time…" No, she really can't stop asking that, considering all the drunk people littered about.
"Huh?" Jackson says that a lot, mostly because he's not sure why this wouldn't be a good time. The drunk people that are all over his house are, well, they're usually there. He doesn't really care about the house or the money or anything like that. He's totally out of his element at this point in time and that's got to be saying something. He's must more used to having no money and shooting people, not having parties. Not that this was even his party. "Oh, yeah. This happens every night. We can uh…" Jackson has to actually try and remember the rooms of the house for a moment. "There's an office! Around here… somewhere. We can like… go there and talk, if you want." He's already stepping over a couple more bodies as he starts to lead the way out of the room and off towards a hallway. As he walks past her, his hand slips out to take the coffee.
"An office!" Daisy says with some triumph, nodding in agreement. An office she can handle. Especially if it's free of drunk people. As he takes the coffee, she makes sure to hand off the right one. "I hope it's the way you like it, Mr. Archer. I spoke with craft services and they told me that was how you take it. I also brought some pastries for breakfast, since no one could give me a definite answer about your favourite." She clings to this formality as a way of ignoring all the drunk people she's having to walk over and around. Or maybe she just always talks this much, this quickly.
"Whoa whoa. Hol' up. Jus'… chillax for a second." Jackson finally finds the office, pushing through the door and into the open space right about now. It's the cleanest room in the mansion and likely because he never uses it. No reason to. He's always out and about doing something wild and crazy. Or maybe even blowing something up. "First of all, jus' call me Jackson. I can't get with this formality stuff." Jackson moves towards the desk, where he turns to hop up onto and sets the coffee down next to him. "And let's just forget about askin' me a buncha' questions. I'm still too tired to even remember my last name." He smiles, pouring on what charm he can muster up at the moment. "Let's just stick to the important stuff. Like… what I gotta' do today."
Daisy seems at a bit of a loss when he hops up onto the desk instead of sitting behind it properly, but just opts for a chair that's at least sort of facing him. She sets down her drink and offers out the bag of breakfast pastries with one hand, while digging through her briefcase with the other and coming out with a faux-leather portfolio and a clicky pen. "Well, I'm afraid I wasn't able to get very detailed notes from your last assistant…" Yes, the one with the big bazooms, her pause suggests. "Which is why an interview would be useful… For instance-" And here she pauses to grin wryly, gesturing back over her shoulder with the end of the pen. "-How early is too early. As for today, it looks as though you have a relatively light day, which is why I scheduled myself in."
"Noon." Jackson says as fast as possible. "Well, wait. Noon is only too early if I had a party the night before. Which is most of the time, but that's not my fault. People say I gotta' do this to keep my image up. Which is kinda' crazy, cuz I don't even want an image. But people say its important so I gotta' do what I gotta' do, right?" Jackson's shrugging, since he's not even sure what the hell he's talking about. Things were so much easier when he was just a cop and fighting cities full of terrorists, by himself. This movie business is crazy. "My last assistant was pretty nice to look at, that's for damn sure." He pauses for a brief moment, remembering. "Really, really nice to look at." He has to shake his head to come out of his thought process. "But she ain't have much up here." A finger goes to the side of his head. "But you? You look like you know what you're doin'. So… I hope this whole thing works out." Awwwww.
"Noon?" Daisy repeats, unable to keep a slight edge of disbelief out of her tone, though she writes it down. Where she's from, that's half the day gone already! "Um, sure," she goes on, trying to answer that wending question. "If you say so. I'm not - I'm sure you pay someone a lot of money to tell you about your image, so you don't need to hear my thoughts on it," she adds more honestly, but diplomatically. As he goes on about his last assistant, her eyebrows raise a little while she waits it out. When he turns it into something of a compliment, it catches her a little by surprise. "Oh. Well, I just … try to take my job seriously. You're a very busy man. Anything I can worry about so you don't have to, that's my pleasure."
"Busy man? Yes. Cruel and punishing dictator? Hell no!" Jackson keeps on smiling, trying to keep this as light as he possibly can. After all, there should be some kind of relationship here besides, well, Boss and Assistant. "I'm not gonna' be ridin' you like some crazy tyrant, y'know. So you can relax. Just… have fun and make sure I'm not late to anything and everything'll be fine. I got a good feelin' about you, D.G." Aww, he's already given her one of those slick Hollywood nicknames or something. "We're gonna' make good music together."
"Oh, I never meant to imply-!" Daisy begins quickly, worried that she might have offended him by somehow implying he was a dictator. But the congenial tone does sink in and she offers up a hesitant smile of her own, tucking her hair back behind her ears. "Really, I'm good for more than just making sure you're on time. Otherwise, you could just get yourself a Palm Pilot and save a lot of money. Not… that I think you need to save money. Not that I think you /don't/." Okay, getting slightly flustered, pause and /breathe/. "All I mean is that I'm here to help you, however I can."
"Careful. Keep sayin' that and I might take you up on that offer." Jackson's hopping off the desk now, tossing a wink in Daisy's direction and moving off towards something on the wall. Something that he needs to look at, just to break the possible tension that may raise in the room because of the fact that, well, he just kind of, sort of, shamelessly flirted with his new assistant. And it's been what… maybe ten minutes since they've met?
Daisy goes a little pink, tucking her hair back again and sitting up a little more primly. "Oh! Well, ah, clearly you don't need any help in that department," she replies, making a vague gesture back towards the door, meaning the many women draped all over him when she walked in. "But I'll bet those women don't know where you can get something dry-cleaned after midnight." Yep, after that, she's gong to bring it back to the professional level.
Smiling a bit, Jackson turns from the wall and leans back against it, shrugging. "I don't even know those girls. I couldn't tell you if I slept with 'em or not. If you ask me, they came with the house." He actually sounds like he couldn't careless about what happens to those women and then some. "But all I'm sayin' is that if I'm callin' you at three in the mornin'… I ain't tryin' to get you to bring me some ice cream, if you know what I'm sayin'." And there, the Jackson has managed to obliterate the professionalism once again and put things on the edge of this whole Sexual Harassment possibility.
Daisy doesn't exactly seem won over by his careless attitude towards those women. "Well, Mr. Archer, if you call me at three in the morning, I will bring over anything you like: ice cream, magazines, a clean suit, or a hazmat team, no questions asked. But - that's it. I'm not … like those women," she says quietly but with as much firmness as she can muster, considering she's talking to her brand new boss here. She begins jotting something down on her pad of paper… Notes for the eventual sexual harassment case?
"Fair enough." Jackson keeps his hands raised at this point, as to show he's not going to be pushing her towards anything she doesn't want to do. He loses more assistants that way. He'll just have to rely on his charm and stuff to make sure everything goes as smoothly as possible, that's for damn sure. For now, though, he's just going to play it cool. "And it's good you're not like those girls. Those girls don't make it any further than the floor in this business. Keep your head on your shoulders and you'll be leaving me in the dust in no time." A little helpful advice… from the man that can't even deal with his own stardom.
"Um, well, thanks," Daisy replies, sincere but a little confused by the many directions the conversation keeps veering off. "I don't know about leaving you in the dust, but I'd be happy being able to pay my rent doing something I love." That admission is accompanied by a modest smile. "Actually for now, I'm just glad to be able to pay my rent. Not that I don't love what I'm doing here. It's just…" Not the same. She didn't move to LA to become an assistant, after all.
"You're new 'round here, so let me give you some advice. The first chance you get to hit the big time? Take it. Cuz there may not be another chance for years. You're too pretty to be stuck in some Personal Assistant to the Stars gig. Especially when you're stuck with a bum like me." Jackson's words don't even seem to have any lingering effects of emotion to them. At least, not during the parts where he drags himself down. He knows what he is and he knows that there's a future in Hollywood for those that really want it. "I guess what I'm sayin' is… don't get too attached. Things don't last forever. Not even this job."
"I hope that doesn't mean you're planning on firing me already!" Daisy notes with a wry (and slightly nervous) laugh, the comment about her being pretty getting a slight blush from her. "You're hardly some bum, Mr. Archer. You're one of the biggest names in the business. I - Well, to be perfectly honest, I'm not sure I'm even /qualified/. There must be tons of assistants with more experience than me." Which might explain why she's trying so damn hard to prove she can do this. "But I learn fast, so I won't let you down, don't worry," she adds quickly, mustering up a reassuring smile. "And when the opportunity to act arises, I'll keep your advice in mind, thank you."
Jackson just keeps it real, that seems to be the case here. Which is why he's leaning back against the wall again and even crossing his arms. To make himself look and feel pretty darn relaxed. Something that he needs to be, after all. "I'll let you in on a little secret. When I had my people look for a new assistant… I specifically asked for a 'friendly face'. I figured I could use one of those more than somebody that can type a hundred words a minute."
"Oh, well, I … guess I'm pretty friendly? I try to be, anyway," Daisy replies with a quick grin. "Though I could probably take a class if you think there'll be a lot of typing…" Okay, tone it down a bit, girl. "I just - I want to do well, that's all. Friendly I can do. And I have /some/ experience, just … not quite at this level. But I like a challenge, so I'm looking forward to it. If you'll have me, of course." Since she does suppose he could opt not to keep her on now that he's actually met her.
"You've got this job as long as you want it, D.G." Jackson says, as he pushes off the wall and starts towards the office door. "And… if you go and find me some Oreo Cookies and Cream Ice Cream. while I go take a shower and wash the stench of 'party time' off me." Aha! Her first challenge!
"On it, boss," Daisy replies with a self-aware grin as she pushes to her feet. She's glad to have the chance to prove herself, but well aware it makes her look like a total keener. "You just get yourself ready for the day and I'll see to, uh, breakfast." Ice cream for breakfast, mental note.
Jackson just grins and disappears out into the hallway, turning to the right to head back to his bedroom. But, well, about two seconds later he's passing by the office door again and shrugging helplessly, before heading to the left… now that he's remembered the right way to go. Oh, eccentric rich people.
