Who: Crowley and Alexia What: A business meeting; which is to say, Crowley has no idea When/Where: This evening, Alexia's London Flat Warnings: No idea.
Crowley had been on the way to pick a... teaser, for a client, when he slid the tape into his casette player. The repetition of his name, admittedly, had Crowley worried- he hadn't been quite sure that Alexia would approve of his friendship with the Prince; he glanced around, paranoid, thinking he was about to be accosted, or worse, sent right back to Hell.
He visibly relaxed at the mention of a promotion, having to laugh hysterically at the end of the tape, when Sinatra resumed control over the stereo, sounding a little preturbed to have been upstaged. (The man always was a bit of a diva.)
Shutting the car back off, he took the time to send a quick message to his Angel and the goddess, unsure just what he was being sent off to do. However, Alexia had said he'd be waiting, so he quickly shut the device off (his business associates could figure out what to do with the child themselves), willing himself to the door of his Lord's flat. He didn't bother knocking, knowing Alexia would know he had arrived, and answer when he felt like.