On Sturdy Legs

and Firearms

Annie brought me back home and waited long enough for me to get into the BMW and flash her a thumbs up before she was driving off again--maybe back to the competition or to the empty dance studio, I had no way of knowing. It dawned on me that I had no idea where James worked, this required me to run inside for a second to grab the business card me gave me on my first day that had his work address on it. The location wasn't on a street I recognized, the zip code looked like it was out of the suburbs and in that space before the tall city buildings were built; there was probably a name for such place, I just didn't know what it was. Sitting in the driver's seat of the BMW, I had the oddest thought, it was an invasion of privacy but that might just depend on what I decided to look at.

I grabbed James's laptop from the passenger seat and opened it. I half expected some kind of alarm to go off or for it to lock up. I expected some kind of security, but all I was met with was the typical computer opening screen with the user options. There was one for James and another one called GIRLS with that superhero Elle likes as the icon, for no reason I could put into words. I clicked on James's icon and was surprised to find that I was not required to put in a password. The computer merely loaded and brought me to a home screen that was riddled with icons in no means of organization and a background that was a picture. James was mid laugh when it was taken; he was laying on his back on a couch I didn't recognize with Lily fast asleep on his chest and Elle sitting on the arm of the chair near his head so she could put glittery hair clips in his hair--she had gone totally overboard with. That would have all been fun and fine but on the other end of the couch with her legs thrown randomly across James's was Mia; she was mid laugh too, hair down around her face and dressed more casually in a pair of sweats and a tank top.

Whatever that relationship was, it wasn't my business. I opened up the internet and went to the maps to I could type in the address on the card. I had been right: it was outside downtown Topeka, maybe the warehouse district. I didn't know if Topeka was set up in the same way that Dallas was, either way, I would never have pegged James as the kind of person to work in the warehouse district. I logged off his computer once I got a good idea of where I had to go and started driving.

The street that the address mentioned was not what I had suspected: it was the warehouse district, nothing but rows of large windowless buildings as far as the street ran, all bright brick with no signs and only the numbers of the buildings in huge letters, sometimes spray painted, other times with cut-out letters. This was the case in the building that James's business card directed me to.

I pulled into a parking spot and tucked the laptop under my arm. What I anticipated was at least twenty minutes of looking around the trying doors--that was what happened last time Allison and I had to meet someone in a warehouse district--I was saved from that. A young, pretty woman, probably just out of college exited the building. She had the whole look going on: heels, panty hose, pencil skirt, cream colored blouse, jewelry looking impeccable and expensive, her blonde hair back in a tight bun, and makeup that looked almost professional.

She strode out to greet me with her chin held high and extended her hand in the utmost business like way possible, "Ariadne Gallen? I'm Alessandra Faunscrauss. Mr. Fisher told me that you would be coming, if you will accompany me inside."

For about half a second it dawned on me to feel inadequate, but that second passed. I followed Alessandra inside the warehouse which had a very nice interior. There was a pristine lobby with a glass desk and large framed pictures of various cities or famous magazine articles. There was another woman at the desk, also blonde with her hair back in a tight bun, the same dress as Alessandra and the same age, young and pretty. Alessandra nodded to her and she nodded back, apparently it was fairly common knowledge that I was coming. Alessandra led me down the hall to an elevator; we were getting in it at the same time another employee--a guy no older than her with big glasses and an armful of files in his arms--was. Alessandra sped up to put the elevator button for him so he wouldn't have to and stepped back to let him get in first. She hit the button for a higher floor.