1345
Wright Industries Offices, Regent’s Park, London
ISO: Kate
The old brick building was fairly unassuming from the outside, with only a brass plate next to the entrance proclaiming it to be an office building. Otherwise, it was indistinguishable from the surrounding buildings. The Regent’s Park district was fairly quiet, and it was one of Nigel’s favourite parts of London. His flat was located only a few blocks from the office, and he could walk to work, if he liked. He didn’t. Usually, he apparated or flooed in, because usually he wasn’t at his flat. He spent a lot of time sleeping on Will’s couch, or in her bed when she wasn’t there. On the rare day when he had a free bit of time at lunch, he walked over to the park and sat on a bench, watching the people go about their lives. It was relaxing.
His own life was starting to calm down a bit, especially after Emma visited him and helped him organize some things. He had started putting his foot down and asserting some of his power around the place, and he was finding himself much less stressed and more like his usual self. He had been able to catch snippets of free time throughout his days, and he was doing pretty well about keeping on top of the Prophet. The little notice in the announcements section did not escape his attention, and he also noted the tiny mention of the occupation of the lady in question. Well, well. So, Nat had gotten married, had he? That was interesting. What kind of girl was this who had managed to hook him? His friend was notorious for weaseling out of his betrothals, mostly because he was still chasing the She-Demon. Nigel was not entirely certain that Nat was not attempting to pass off the She-Demon as an American pureblood. The first names were suspiciously close.
An owl was winging its way toward Wales in the next half hour, inviting the newly appointed Mrs. Warwick for an interview. He signed it ‘Christopher Lemon’, which was what he usually went by when he didn’t want to be known as himself. After all, he didn’t know what Nat had told his… wife… about Nigel, and he wanted to see how she was with a stranger, rather than with a friend of her husband’s who she might try to impress. Granted, he was playing the part of a potential employer, so she still might try to impress him. It wasn’t the best of plans, but the girl should get used to that, being married to Nat.
He was sitting in his office, going over some paperwork, when his secretary informed him that there was a Mrs. Warwick here to see Mr. Lemon. His longsuffering secretary was used to his quirks, and she didn’t even question him anymore. Pushing the complaining Siamese off of his desk, he told his secretary to send her in, and he set about putting his paperwork in a drawer to clear his desk. “Ahhh, Mrs. Warwick. Do come in.” Christopher Lemon had a distinct Scottish accent, which Nigel had cultivated from growing up in Fife, and he slipped into it easily. Nigel stood as the woman entered, and he subtly assessed her—appearance, bearing, and dress. Motioning to the leather armchair on the other side of his desk, he added. “Please. Have a seat.”




