London Harmony: Small Fry (10 page)

The next few days were torture.  Now that the invisible wall had been shattered, I wanted nothing more than to be with Tash.  Just the thought of her curly red hair on my face made me sigh.  Max was relentless with her teasing when I arrived at our room at two in the morning Monday night, a little disheveled and glowing with a giddy look on my face.

My meeting with the school, Brandye Franklin-Callahan, and Tim Phearson had far exceeded my hopes.  I had to give the presentation to the school about my idea.  It was basically the same thing I pitched to the two inventors of the SmartCanvas system that is in almost every museum in the industrialized world now.

My idea excited them and they pledged support and even financial backing for the idea since it was incorporating the second generation SmartCanvas system that had even greater resolution and response time than the original that took the world by storm less than ten years ago.  I wanted them to pitch the idea to the school, but the evil ones said that it was my project to spearhead, so it was up to me to pitch it.

They had flown to London on a Phearson Prosthetics and Robotics private jet for the meeting and to set up times to discuss more in depth how I envisioned the finished project and get with Tim himself, who wanted to be the lead engineer.  I had to suppress a grin throughout the meeting every time I thought of Tasha touching my face with her eyes closed so that she could 'see' me in a way she could remember and recognize.

Zilrita was there to represent London Harmony's interest in the project for June.  She had transformed into a consummate professional business woman before my very eyes as she shared that the music industry is always looking for ways in which people could experience a musician's art.

I think the three were working in concert with each other because they rarely said the word music. Instead they used the terms art or creations.  Since this project would replace all three of my creative classes not just for the semester but my entire freshman year, every little bit would help sway the decision.

They called the professors from my other two art classes in and asked us if they could speak privately for a moment.  I was a ball of nervous energy as we waited in the main office.  Zil gave me a hug and said, “Don't sweat it, Small Fry, this is sort of brilliant.  They'd be fools not to okay it.  They are picturing the prestige of being able to point out to people that one of their students developed this.”

Brandye stepped over and smiled at me.  She was always so self-conscious and withdrawn, but she seemed genuinely excited about this.  She bumped hips with me and whispered, “SmartCanvas is my baby, my gift to Robin so she could experience the art of the masters in a way she could never dream of.  The idea of it being used to help others experience something they weren't normally capable of is thrilling.  Whether Chelsea does the right thing here or not, I want to make this a reality for you and the people who will benefit from it.”

Tim was just nodding his agreement, seemingly lost in thought.  I noticed that even on our conference calls the man didn't speak much, and he seemed always distracted and mumbling about the mechanics of it all.

Then Brandye grinned and asked, “So who is this for?”

I blinked.  “Pardon?”

She had a half smirk on her face, and the impression looked eerily similar to Penny Franklin's famous smirk.  That was possibly the first time since I met her years ago that I could definitely say she was her mother's daughter.  Her twin sister, who was in the music industry, was almost like Penny's clone, only in pop music instead of rock.   It was actually pretty cool to see some of the confident cockiness of her family peeking through her introverted exterior. “Who inspired this idea in you?”

I looked down at my hands, trying to suppress a grin and replied, “Just a girl.”

She almost sighed with a huge smile on her face.  “It always starts with a girl.”  Then she crinkled her nose at me cutely. “That's where inspiration is born, in the sparkle of their eyes and the emotion of their smiles.  The wordless promise in the subtle tilt of anticipation of their head as that smile grows almost imperceptibly.”

She always spoke so poetically.  Where her twin had the confidence and talent, Brandye was gifted with something more powerful, the gift of words and expression.  I don't know how many hours I spent in front of a SmartCanvas over the years, just to listen to her descriptions of the artworks in front of me.  It was her voice they chose to incorporate in the system.  You could hear the awe in her voice as she painted the emotion of the artwork like an artist herself.  You just found yourself being swept away and into the world of the artist.  It was magical, phenomenal, marvelous and magnificent.

She continued, “Things like this, when they come from the heart, can't fail.  You'll see.”  She laid a hand on my arm and I calmed down a bit.  I realized I was almost buzzing with nervous energy.

Tim started talking like we were all part of some sort of conversation he had been having with himself.  It was sort of endearing that the man thought we were all on the same wavelength as the engineer who had changed the face of robotics and prosthetics almost overnight.  “If we use SmartCanvas 2.0 the changes would be minimal, we could tool for both in the same line, or even just go 3.0 and have a dynamic design that can be adapted for either environment.  The production savings would be astronomical.  Then it is all just software, and convincing the artists to participate.  I don't do people.”

Brandye reached over and grabbed the odd man's hand.  “I know you don't do people Tim.  I already spoke with June on that subject.”  Then she looked around at us all.  “Do you know what she said?”

I blurted out a surprised bark of laughter when Zilrita, Brandye and I all said in unison, “I've got this shit.”  I covered my mouth and my smile.  That's my new sis for you, I haven't seen an obstacle she couldn't steamroll.

We were called back in, and the shit eating grin on Professor Grey's... sorry, on Jillian's face got my heart pumping as I fought to keep a grin off my own face.  Dean Graham regarded our motley crew for a moment then nodded.  The silver haired man said, “This proposal is unorthodox and unprecedented.  But we pride ourselves here at Chelsea on being progressive and adapting with the changing face of artistic impression.”

His stoic face broke into a little grin as he inclined his head slightly at me.  “We see merit in this idea, but must both caution you all, and require that Miss Brighton contribute a significant and measurable amount to the endeavor.   This is about her education more than any commercial enterprise.”

Brandye spoke for our group, “Agreed.  We are supplying the vessel in which to transport Francine's vision.  The added benefit here is that she will be immersed into the business end of a real world project, giving her more experience and insight for when she graduates from Chelsea.  The school can only benefit from the prestige of including her as an alumni.”

The Dean chuckled, genuinely amused, “No need to blow smoke up our collective arses Ms. Franklin, we have already agreed to approve the project.  There will be goals set, targets and reporting as dictated by Professor Grey.  Chelsea is pleased to embark on this endeavor.”  He looked around then said, “Now if you would all please excuse me, I have to pretend to run a school here.”  We all chuckled and left him to his work.

We had all agreed to meet in the conference room with my other instructors the following day to lay out how the project was going to work, and set my educational goals on this entrepreneurial undertaking.

Tim was already lost in his own world as we set up the meeting.  He was sketching on a tablet and mumbling all sorts of tech jargon.  He looked up at Brandye.  “Right Bran so lunch then?”  Then started working again.

We all chuckled at the man and she nodded as she slapped his hand away from his tablet. “Yes Tim, but first use your manners and say goodbye to the nice ladies.”

He gave us a cheesy grin and said, “Goodbye to the nice ladies.”  Then he went back to his work.

I couldn't stop smiling at the man as Bran rolled her eyes and grinned at us as she dragged him off to forage for food. “See you ladies tomorrow.”  I waved.

I can't tell you how hard it is not to blurt out everything to Tash when she asks.  I held my tongue, it was my gift for her and I was not going to blow it.  The unintended consequence was that it just piqued her curiosity even more.  It was so hard to fight off her puppydog eyes.  I found that lots of cuddling and snogging sessions did the trick of sidetracking her nicely.  Not to mention it sidetracked me too.

We didn't do much more than that and talking at my place as we never knew when Max would walk in and we weren't juvenile enough to put a sock on the door handle... Well fine, I was juvenile enough to suggest it but Natasha's rolling eyes told me that we were more mature than that.  That we could control our urges and be civilized adults.

Well until we got to her place Wednesday night, then... how do the Brits say it?  Bloody hell!  She gave into all of her urges.  I went down in a grinning shipwreck against her unstoppable tide.  We just talked until two in the morning before I had to get back to my room.  I really didn't want to go but I had to get my coursework done in the morning while I ate breakfast or it wouldn't get done at all.

She gave me a kiss at the door of the Archives and I almost let an “I love you,” slip out but caught myself.  “I'll miss you.”

She grinned and bunched up her sleeves in her hands. “Drama queen.”  Then she whispered, “I'll miss you too.”

I skipped all the way down to Ponsonby Hall.  I badged the door by just bumping my bag to the scanner; a trick Max showed me; since it was locked after ten at night, then headed toward the North Wing.

I paused when Amy's amused voice said from behind me, “Ooooo almost the walk of shame, but not quite late enough for that.  Building curfew is midnight, Francine.”  She said my entire name and I could hear the teasing in her voice as I turned to see her sprawled in one of the cushioned chairs that littered the main lobby.  Her crooked ponytail was more frazzled than normal and she had a book on her chest.  She must have fallen asleep reading again.  The poor girl had a weakness for romance books and loses track of time.

She was grinning and focusing to my left.  I grinned back and crinkled my nose at her. “Oh, is it now, Amarissa?”  I teased back with her full name too.  It made her grin, she said she never cared for her name, but it sounded 'brill' with my Yank accent.

She yawned and stretched then hopped up, fully awake just like that.  Her eyes were glittering as she looked around and almost whispered, “Is he cute?  Is he a cowboy?”

I nodded and leaned toward her as she joined me on my trek to the North Wing, then whispered, “Yes she is very cute.  And no, sorry, not a cowboy.”  I had to suppress a grin, she obviously had some sort of thing for cowboys.

To her credit, the woman didn't even blink.  Instead she blushed, grinned, and inquired, “Ooo, the girl you have been bringing around lately?  She's super shy, always bunching down in her clothes.  It was her eyes that caught you wasn't it?  She has so much going on behind them.”

I grinned at the imp of a lady and shrugged, really thinking about it and slowly shook my head. “No, it was really more the entire package.  Each little thing about her builds up to more than the sum of her parts, to something almost like catnip to me.  Her smile, her personality, her quirks, her eyes, her voice, her smile.”

She said cutely, “You said her smile twice.”

I nodded and winked. “Why, so I did.”

We shared a chuckle then she hugged herself, spun around once, then held up her romance novel.  “I'll find that myself one day, just you wait and see.”

I gave a smiling emphatic nod as I badged the turnstile and said, “Anyone would be lucky.”

She blushed and looked down. “You think?”

I nodded. “I know it, you're a fine catch Specs.”

This made her light up, then she looked at her book again.  “Well, goodnight Fran.  I have to get back to my book boyfriend.”  Then she started patting her pockets.  “Now where did my bloody glasses get off to?”

I smiled at her and reached over and lowered her glasses from where they were perched at the top of her head, down to her nose.  She chuckled and said, “That's where they wandered off to.”  Then she bit the tip of her tongue and gave a tiny wave.

I waved back and said, “Goodnight Amy.”  Then she was off toward her room in the South Wing, reading her mush.  She was such an odd duck and I was so happy I could count her as one of my friends.  I had to remember to make a point of inviting her when we do things as a group.

I giggled when I got to my door and there was a sock on the handle.  I sighed and went to one of the little study cubbies in the hall, directly across from our door and laid down on the orange couch there and closed my eyes with Tasha on my mind.

The next thing I knew, Max was shaking me gently awake.  I squinted up at her.  She had her hair in a tight ponytail and her gym bag hanging off her shoulder.  She was always out at the crack of dawn, to practice her fencing.  She squished up her face. “What you doing out here you silly Yank?”

I squinted my eyes at her and pointed at the sock on the knob.  Her eyes narrowed in confusion at it, then she looked down the hall and snorted out a chuckle.  I followed her gaze and saw a sock on every single door.  She said, “Someone's attempt at humor, preying on the unsuspecting.”  Then she grinned. “Like you.”