After dinner that night in the hotel’s restaurant (which had a life-sized statue of a rhino right in the middle, for some reason), we went back up to the suite where we were once again the only ones not out for a late night on the town.

I climbed onto the bed, sitting upright against the headboard so Emmy and Angela could show me what they’d bought. Well, Emmy did, anyway. Angela just worked her way into my lap and snuggled up against me while Emmy modeled her new clothes.

After a little while I realized that Angela’s odd seating position was intentional- she had arranged herself so that my face would be right by her neck. The reason for this, of course, was that she wanted me to notice her new perfume.

Needless to say, I said nothing about it. Yes, it smelled great- tropical flowers and some sort of spicy smell, and it absolutely worked with the scent of her skin and hair at the same time as it somehow enhanced her sexy Latina-ness.

But again, I didn’t mention it at all, even as Angela almost literally rubbed my nose in it. I just kept adjusting my own position so that I could watch Emmy’s fashion show, acting as if I didn’t notice what Angela was doing.

Eventually Emmy got down to her new lingerie, a panty and bra set that probably cost more than I’d ever want to know. The color was the palest blue, with little tiny flowers.

“Nice. I like it. Floral, but spicy,” I said. Of course Emmy had noticed the little dance that Angela and I had been doing, and of course she recognized my game.

“I think it is a little bit… tropical, no? Sweet, but with a hint of the wild?” Emmy said with a smile.

“Absolutely perfect on the right person,” I agreed.

“It took a long time to get just the right …” Emmy said, searching for the right word, but by then Angela figured out that we were teasing her.

She sat up and gave my shoulder a slap. “That was mean!” she protested. “You knew all along I got new perfume and you didn’t say anything!”

I pulled Angela in close and made a bit show of snuffling below her ear like a bloodhound.

“Hey! You did get new perfume!” I said in amazement.

Angela played at struggling to get loose, but I continued sniffing her neck, collarbone, and behind her ear.

“You’re terrible!” Angela said as she tried to get free, but not very hard.

“Babe, it smells great. It smells so good it makes me want to ravish you right here and now,” I said.

“Yeah, but you always want to ravish me,” Angela countered, and I had to admit she wasn’t wrong.

“Well, sure I do,” I said, nuzzling behind her ear. I dropped my voice an octave and growled out, “I’m a beast.”

The next morning the tour bus left for London, but the three of us, along with Lee and Jen and Jackson and his girlfriend Sherry, plus of course Tiny and Grant, made our way to Paris’ Gare du Nord train station in the hotel’s shuttle van for the high-speed train ride to London.

The train station was easy to navigate, so we made it to the train with plenty of time to spare, despite the crowd of fans that slowed our progress. The three band members were gracious and posed for photos and signed autographs, never giving any sign that they were anything but pleased by the attention.

Stephanie had booked us the equivalent of first class, so there was plenty of room, for which I was grateful. Angela claimed the window when we settled down in our seats, and Emmy and I were perfectly fine with letting her have the view.

At nearly one hundred miles an hour the entrance to the Channel Tunnel was almost instant. One moment we were looking out at the Brittany countryside, next moment it was black outside the windows. This took Sherry by surprise, and she lat out a little yelp when it happened, before looking around abashedly.

“I just didn’t expect it,” she explained.

The meal they served was as good as any I’d had on any airplane, the seats were comfortable, and of course you could get up and walk around if you wanted. This all made the whole experience much more pleasant than flying commercial, even in first class.

As a bonus, it was actually faster than flying when you factor in the time needed to get to an airport and check in, then get to town from the second airport. Both train stations were right in the middle of town.

“I think that if I had to make this trip often, I would always take the train,” Emmy mused as we slowed to a stop in St Pancras Station. “I wonder why we always flew when I lived with my mother and father?”

Making our way out into the station, Lee spotted an upright piano just sitting there, waiting for someone to play it. He nudged Emmy and pointed it out, and so of course The Downfall staged an impromptu free concert right there in the train station. As you might expect, crowds gathered immediately and by the third song the police had arrived to make sure everything stayed civil.

Lee played the piano (which was actually in tune), while Emmy and Jackson sang. Jackson played drums of a sort on the top of the piano, adding a little depth to the sound.

They played requests from the crowd, some of which were Downfall tunes, but most weren’t. My favorite was when they played that old Ray Charles song ‘Hit The Road, Jack’, but they reversed the gender roles. Emmy sang Ray’s parts, while Jackson sang the female backing singer’s lines.

After a while the police grew concerned enough to ask the band to stop, at which point most of the crowd dispersed, but quite a few stuck around for photos and autographs and that sort of thing.

We were on no sort of timetable, so the three of them took their time schmoozing the crowd. Eventually we made it to the taxi stand and piled into a bunch of black cabs to take us to the hotel.

“Look- it’s already up on Youtube,” Jen said when we settled in to the suite, holding up her phone so we could see the video of the mini-concert in the train station. “I guess that’s no surprise these days.”

Angela, Emmy and I were just starting to discuss what to do for the afternoon when Stephanie came in.

“Good- you guys are all here,” she said, looking at the three band members. “Don’t forget, tomorrow we have two very important things going on. We have the in-studio at the BBC in the morning, then at night we have that fundraiser to attend. The BBC limos will pick you up here at the hotel at eight thirty. Be ready. I mean it- no screwing around. This is important,” she said, looking directly at Lee. “As for the fundraiser, before you bitch, remember you all agreed to it. No backing out. Black tie, be ready to charm. Thursday, you have a two PM sound check. I’ll send the van to pick you up here at one- traffic is shitty. Eat lunch before the van gets here if you want, the usual stuff will be at catering. The afterparty will be at a bar there at the arena. It’s not very big, so it won’t be a total zoo. I’d appreciate it if all three of you would at least put in an appearance,” she said, this time staring at Emmy. “But you don’t have to stay very long. A bunch of industry insiders will be there, mainly promoters and venue owners on Friday night. The afterparty on Saturday will be more recording industry people.”

Stephanie looked at the three. “These two afterparties may not mean much to you guys right now, but these are for networking. To be honest, Friday night’s party is more for me than you guys, but the asshole- I mean, fine gentleman- that books the London Stadium and Wembley shows will be there, and it would really be helpful if you could pal around a little with him. The next time we tour we want to be in one of those places.”

Stephanie looked at the three of them each in turn and said, “Hell, if you guys hadn’t insisted on a fucking winter tour in Europe we could be filling soccer stadiums now, but no- you just had to do this when the weather over here is too cold and shitty for outdoor events, didn’t you?” I could tell that Stephanie was only halfway teasing, and halfway meant it.

“So, anyhow, if you guys want to hear a hundred freaking thousand English people cheering your names we need to do a summer show at Wembley, and if you make nice and pose for selfies and all that with the guy on Friday night, that pump will be primed.”

Taking a breath, she said, “Like I said, it’ll be recording industry folks for the most part on Saturday night. If you guys ever, I mean ever, want to record here in the UK, the guys you’ll want to talk to will be there. A lot of these dudes are the gatekeepers to the music industry over here, and again, making nice now means doors will be open. Blow it off, and those doors? Yeah, you get the idea.”

“Sunday’s show…” she said, “Well, hell, I don’t have to tell you guys how important it is. Royal freaking Albert Hall, full video production, all of it. For fuck’s sake, members of the royal family will be in attendance, but if you even think of playing ‘God Save The Queen’ or any shit like that I will put a bomb on your plane myself. Sunday night’s afterparty is going to be nothing but London society bigwigs, but still, at least put in an appearance. Heck- maybe you can get selfies with Prince Charles or something. But these folks are paying literal fucktons of money to be there and meet you guys and it’s all going to a good cause, so be nice and make the rounds.” Letting her shoulders droop a little bit, Stephanie said, “O.K., I’m done with my rant. You guys are pros, you know what to do. This week is a whole lot more important than Berlin or Rome, so don’t repeat what happened there and we’ll get through this smelling like roses. Here, I’m putting this up on the door so you have to look at it every time you leave the hotel room,” she said, holding up a sheet of paper that had the key times listed in big, fat black marker. Doing exactly what she had said, Stephanie taped the sheet right at eye level (well, a little bit above her eye level and below mine, but you get the idea) on the door.

“Steph, how many times do I have to apologize?” Lee asked.

“You don’t have to apologize any more,” Stephanie replied. “Just be ready when it’s time to go. These timetables are not flexible.”

Stepping out the door, she turned and said, “Eight thirty tomorrow morning, in the lobby downstairs. Don’t make me have to come up here and get you.”

“Leah,” Lee said after Stephanie had gone. “You two used to date in high school, right? Was she this much of a hardass back then?”

“No, I think she learned it in college,” I said, still amazed at how Stephanie had dominated the room.