London Harmony: Doghouse (6 page)

She looked at me with wide brown eyes, off to my left slightly, but I could tell her focus was on me.  She stood up straight and slid her round, Lennon spectacles, farther up her nose and took a deep breath. She cocked her head and said, “Right then, who might you be?  I saw you didn't badge in.  I'm Amarissa...  Amarissa Hoyte, everyone around here calls me Amy.  How may I be of assistance miss?”

I looked down at her then back at the door then explained, “I just need to talk with that blonde girl that just went that way.”  I pointed and she looked back, her hand still firmly planted on my chest.  I have to say, she had a lot more power that someone that small should have.  I felt no give in the pressure she was exerting, and I don't know why I didn't back up.  Maybe it was because I can be obstinate sometimes and I sort of resented her stopping me like that even though she was apparently just doing her job.

She smiled at me, well off to my left a bit and said, “Another yank!”  Then she asked quieter, “Tell me, have you met a real cowboy?”

I blinked at the unrelated tangent.  I was about to say, of course, but then narrowed my eyes, did she mean a cowboy cowboy?  Didn't she know it wasn't the wild west in the States and hasn't been for over a hundred years?  I said, “Depends on your definition.  I've met modern cowboys.”

She frowned a little at my answer and I moved back slightly and tried to walk around her, just to walk into her arm barring my way.  She was fast!  If she had been my height, she would have clotheslined me, but instead her arm went across my mid chest.  She made some chittering noise and said, “Where do you think you're going, miss?  This is a security building, you can't just run around all willy nilly.  There are rules and such.”

I exhaled and looked down at her again.  She was starting to annoy me.  “I just need to have a quick word with her.  I'm trying to locate someone, they have something that belongs to me.”

She cocked her head. “What do they have of yours?”

I was clearly getting nowhere so I relaxed and she dropped her arm as I admitted, “My passport.”

She actually chuckled, “Silly yank. Why did you give them your passport?”

“I didn't!  They...”  They what?  They pickpocketed me?  I knew the next question.  Just why wasn't I calling the authorities?  Well, because I pickpocketed them first.  She cocked an eyebrow, and God help me if it wasn't cute.  I sputtered out, “Nevermind.”

She looked back to where the blonde had gone then to me again, “Fran has your passport?”

Ah, so it was Francine Brighton.

I replied, “No, she was with this deejay, Scratch, last night and he has my passport.”

She said, “Ah, okay, I see.”

I smiled down at her, she had finally seen sense.  I started to move around her in pursuit of that Fran girl, just to be hooked around the waist by that damn iron arm of hers.

“Hoo hey, whoa there cowgirl.  Reign it in.”

Grraaahhh!  How was someone the size of an underdeveloped platypus stopping me so easily?  I'd steamroll her if she weren't so damned cute.

I took a calming breath and spoke between gritted teeth, “May I please go speak with her?”

She tilted her head and squinted an eye, her mouth cutely scrunching to one side.  “I would have to go with a no in this instance.  You understand.”

I reigned in my temper and said in as calm a voice as I could, “No, I don't understand.”

She chirped out, “I can't be allowing just any stranger to come in to talk to one of the residents.  You see, it's my job to make sure strangers don't get in and perpetrate a myriad of hijinx.  You haven't even told me your name.”

I did understand, that didn't make it any less frustrating, didn't make 'her' any less frustrating.  I said through my still gritted teeth, “Eliza Montrose.”

She put out a hand and I stared at it a moment then shook.  For how strong her arms apparently were, she had a surprisingly soft and delicate hand, I found myself not wanting to apply too much pressure.  Argh, why did I care?

She asked, excitedly, “Eliza?  Like in the Wild Thornberrys? It is a pleasure to meet you.”

No not like a friggin' cartoon.  I narrowed my eyes, I recognized the sly twinkle in her off focus eyes, she was messing with me, the little twerp!  Her grin grew at my recognition.  Then she said, “Now as fun as this has been Eliza...”

“Liza,” I prompted.

She continued, “Now as fun as it has been meeting you, Liza, I'm going to have to ask you to please leave the premises.”

I took a quick breath. “It won't take a second.”

She nodded as if in understanding but said, “And alas, it cannot come to be.”

I had enough of this frustrating woman I asked, “And you are going to stop me?”

She shook her head and gave me a toothy grin. “No, but the bobbies might.” She held up her cell in her other hand and it had the Metro Police displayed and her thumb hovering over the connect icon.  When had she pulled that up?  When she first intercepted me?  This lady was better than armed guards here.

I caught myself saying, “You little...”  I stopped myself, she seemed to be having a great time.  I was letting her get under my skin too easily.  I was usually much smoother than this.  I noticed her eyes taking me in, just slightly off to the left.  I idly wondered what caused that.  I let myself relax and gave her my best smile and bit my lower lip.  “Please, Amarissa?”

She froze up and blinked a couple times then blushed and looked down.  Then she said, “I... I could give her a message for you.”

I exhaled as she led me to the office off to the right. “That would be great.  Can't you just call her room?”

She handed me a tablet and a pen and her smile grew into something mischievous.  “I would, but I kept you distracted when she and Tasha came back out to go to work.”

I spun back to the door and sputtered out, “What?  You little twerp!”

She giggled like a chipmunk on speed.  I tried hard not to smile at her.  She was possibly the most annoying person in the world.  Ah hell, I smiled.

I wrote my message and handed it back to her with one of my cards.  “Please have her call?”

She looked at the note and card and then at the counter in her office, and then all around like a cat chasing its tail.  “Now where have my glasses gotten off to now?”

I placed a hand on her shoulder to stop her from looking around.  I pointed. “You're wearing them.”

She touched her face and grinned, pushing them farther up her nose and looked at me and said with the tone of someone explaining something to a novice, “Right.  The bloody things are always wandering around.  Just like cats.  Cats wander.  It's hard to keep track of them.”

Don't smile.  Don't smile.  Don't smile.  Fuck.  I smiled.  Get with it Liza, she's like your arch nemesis here.  She can't be amusing.  Oh, Louie's Horn, I caught myself checking her out.

She looked over the cryptic note then tilted her head down, allowing her glasses to comically slide down to the end of her nose as she looked off to my left with a sardonic grin.  Then she nodded and pushed her glasses back in place.  “Right then, I'll be sure to get this to Fran, Eliza.”  She enunciated my name carefully, letting me know she was getting me back for using her full name.

I smiled at her and crinkled my nose.  “Fine.  Thank you pipsqueak.”

She shook her head as she placed the note down.  “Are all Canadians as cantankerous as you?”

I was in mid-reply, “I'm not Can...” When I realized she was teasing. Argh!

She put an arm out in an ushering motion and started herding me toward the door.  I muttered, “I get the hint.  Pushy little gatekeeper.  I bet there's never been a successful panty raid here.”

She chuckled and said in an American accent, “Not on my watch.”  And she winked at her focal point off to my left.

I tilted my head in surrender, which she graciously accepted when she made a point of pulling the glass entry door closed behind me and grinning like an imp through it.

I squinted an eye and shook a finger at her then turned to leave.  I was oddly in a really good mood even though Amy had shut me down in my quest.

I chuckled to myself and put in my earbuds, cuing up some classic Queen.  Some good defiant music, that could be Amy's theme music.

Hmm... she said that Fran went to work, that was London Harmony, right?  I looked up the hours for the studio and grinned.  I could stake out the place and wait for her to come out in a couple hours, very James Bond.  Take that mighty imp!

I grabbed some food after a short bus ride and walked past the building.  I had to make sure I was in the right place.  It was an old, three-story, brick building just off of Aldgate.  There were a bunch of shops with bright colors and garish neon signs that vied for your attention.

But the end third of it was just a clean brick with a black wooden door on the corner under a tiny overhang.  There was a little circular blue silhouette of a building painted on the door with “London Harmony” written in bold, gold letters across it.  Then in smaller letters, below the studio name, was  “Meetings by appointment only.”

Huh.  This I hadn't expected.  How could the most influential music label in modern times, be in this quaint little building.  I expected a shining glass and steel building that made a huge statement.  Then I blinked as I realized that this actually made a bigger statement.  They were about the music here, not about the fame or prestige.  I had to smile and reassess the location, it was actually quite genius.

I pulled the door handle and it was locked.  I had half expected that, the way people talked about the place.  Maybe they could get a message to Francine for me and I wouldn't feel like a stalker.  It would have been handy if they had a phone number or way to contact them on their website, but they didn't.  They took exclusivity to soaring heights.

I knocked on the door and waited.  I could hear someone talking on the other side, so I knew they could hear me.  So I knocked again.  Nothing.  I put my ear against the door and just started a continual knock as I said, “Heloooo in theeeere I caaaaan heeaaaar youuuuu.”  I heard a woman snort, but nothing.  Grrr.  Fine, I could be patient.  I had... I checked my cell.  I had fifteen minutes before they quit for the day.

I sat on a little bench half way down the block and listened to some Jaco Pastorius, his bass technique was slammin'.

I figured this was the main office for London Harmony and idly wondered where the studios were.  They had to have hundreds of employees to keep up with all the talent and releases they managed.  Hell, the owner was even J8 and they did her music too.

I froze at that thought.  Oh, Jesus Christ!  I realized why the woman at the rave looked so familiar now.  That was J8 herself, June friggin' Harris-West!  I had pickpocketed J8!  What was she doing all dressed down at that rave?  I probably had Interpol on my butt now too, she was an international superstar.

I wallowed in my own self-recrimination.  I shouldn't have gotten greedy and broke my own rule.  I still had cash.  I was muttering to myself when the black door on the corner opened and a couple guys walked out, followed by an overly cute goth woman in her mid to late twenties.

I stood and wandered over that way as other men and women followed.  I saw one group step out and down the walk that were laughing and joking with a small woman, with Asian features, who had only one arm.  Oh hey, they were the Purple Horseshoes, one of the house bands for the studio.  I've heard of them.

I squinted and looked up at the building again.  Why was the house band there?  Were they just having a meeting in there or were the studios in there too?  It was way too small for that wasn't it?

The flow of people trickled to a stop.  I hadn't seen Francine, nor J8 as far as that went.  I waited five more minutes then exhaled in frustration.  Why was the universe working against me?  Was it karma coming back to slap me for breaking my rules?  Hey, I prayed in church so I have some karma points built up.  It shouldn't be this hard to locate just one person.

I turned to stalk off to the bus stop when the door opened again.  A well-coiffed woman stepped out, noticed me and flashed me a smile as she made sure the door closed.  I checked her out when she turned around.  I know, I'm so bad, but I can't help it, I have this thing with sexy... I like it.

She had long and luxurious black hair and wore a tailored skirt suit that accentuated her curves.  She was out of my league, a lady of class.  Everything right down to her flawless manicure to the tasteful pearl necklace and matching bracelet told me she was a woman of refinement.  Her smile offset that by broadcasting that she was a down to earth sort who enjoyed life. I had to grin at the little heart tattoo below her left ear, which told me she valued her individuality.

My eyes stumbled a moment when I noticed she had the tiniest of Adam's apples.  She was transgender.  I caught myself biting my lower lip at how well she had transitioned and brought out her true self.

She blushed under my scrutiny, and asked in a delicious low alto voice, “May I help you?”

I am sooo bad.

I blinked and locked eyes with her.  I smiled and asked, “Yes.  I was waiting for Francine Brighton.  Is she still working?”

Her eyes narrowed a little and she said more hesitantly,  “Fran isn't working here tonight.  What is this about?”  Whoa, she took on the same protective mode that Amy had just earlier.  I was liking this Fran better and better, just knowing how fiercely her friends protected her.