Lisa-Joe Hampton had been told to dress nicely to receive Mr. Evans. She'd complied with her prince's request, a sensible pantsuit and boring flats making up her ensemble. The bar was looking hot tonight, and as soon as she was done dumping Jake's stunt double downstairs she'd be joining that party. She saw him and enter and approached greeting him in French.
"Bonsoir M. Evans. Je m'appelle Lisa-Joe Hampton, District Harpy. Si vous me suivez, je vous dirigerai vers la chambre du prince."
Pierre was familiar with Lisa-Joe's french, and she wondered if he'd told his sire about her New Orleans flair. After receiving a neutral but polite response, their was little conversation. It was obvious little Miss Ventrue over here was just a caitiff version of the high clan, his polished looks, and stand offish manner being all the information she needed. She couldn't believe someone as fun and down to Earth as Pierre was the blood of this one. They headed down the elevator and threw the set of hallways and corridors that led to the residential area of the complex. A few smaller doors gave way to a grand one, and Lisa-Joe knocked before pointing to the inside of the flat. "He's just inside," she said in English. "Good evening." With that she sauntered away, and couldn't wait to do something sinful.
As Damien stepped inside he'd see a rather large room, with two sets of hallways to the right and the left. The ceilings were a bit low, as most underground complexes are, but otherwise it was a cozy looking space. Jake's taste in furniture was dark wood, like mahogany, leathers, and little light. A few overheads were on a dimmer, and a couple of candles illuminated the space, but otherwise it read like a professors study. There were bookshelves, maps, weapons of all variety's and other treasures from Jake's immortal life. Most of it was Anglo-Saxon, Scandinavian and Early American, but there were touches of France, as well as Japan. In the center of the room was a large leather sofa, and as Damien entered Jake was rising from it. A book was on the sofa, some old tome in original binding. The hallways led to parts unknown. Jake took a step forward and accepted Damien's handshake.
"Mr. Evans," he said formally, feeling like it would be a while before they were Damien and Jake. He smiled at the thought. He ignored the comment about the bar, fearing he had no reply that was polite. He loved the White Rabbit, and whether it was human's making noise complaints or Ben calling his people psychopaths, Jake was a little defensive. Instead, he made a face that signified amusement, and hoped his thoughts were still his own.
"Please sit," he said, pointing to the other end of the sofa. There were also a few arm chairs if Damien preferred, all in the same style as the couch. "I would like to apologize in person for dismissing you the last time we met. Until the matter is settled it seems silly to discuss anything else."
His tone was polite but guarded. He didn't know what to make of Damien yet, and while his line about the bar hadn't seemed to mean offense, it didn't suggest he was a fan of the Anarch way. It's not like he said, "cool bar," or something.