In Over Her Head by Elsie Russell - Parnasse.com

They splattered across to a monstrous arched door painted a sick green.
He punched in a six digit code into the lighted security panel next to
the door, and a smaller door for humans and not horses that was set
inside the larger one clunked open. Inside, it smelled like wet stone. A
single lantern lit the passage, built wide and high for carriages. They
climbed up several foot-worn limestone stairs to a landing and got into
a glass Art Deco elevator that whirred up two flights to another
landing, all paneled in carved wood. They got out and walked to the
polished door. Alessandro pushed the brass button and waited, running
his hand through his hair and brushing plane lint off his pants.
The door was opened by a bald sharp faced man in a tight black
turtleneck and immaculate white trousers who instantly threw his arms
around Alessandro and kissed him smack on the lips. As soon as his
mouth un-suctioned itself from Alessandro's, the bald man said in
American accented Euro speak, "Ciao, Bello, alors, ça va?"
"Pas mal, Dick." Alessandro bumped cheekbones with the
older man, but only met his eyes briefly, as if he couldn't stand the sight
of him but had to be polite.
When Alessandro introduced Penny, the man squinted down at
her, grabbed her outstretched hand and swooped down, pressing his
lips and his nose against it. "The mirific Penelope Bell, enchanté, my
dear." He sniffed as he came up. "Quite a big bang for a such a tiny
squirt, who would've thought! Hangh, hangh, hangh, mais vraiment,
c'est adorable, you're quite the little musical terrorist, now, aren't you?
What's the body count, exactly? But first you must take off those
muddy old boots so you don't soil my flotakis, and go freshen up."
"Have you actually heard my music, or is it just my reputation
preceding me?" Penny asked, peeling off her Gore-Tex.
"Why, yes! But on the Internet, of course. Our Ula is also
énorme, huge, on the web but more so here in, euh, whaddaya call it,
'meatspace' where it really matters and where you amuse yourself so...
innocently! Hangh, hangh, hangh," he said and turned away.
She was more surprised by the Brooklynese popping out of that
refined smorgasbord than by the content of his speech or the braying
laugh. The guy fluttering around his exotic white palace was as shiny
and bald as Yul Brynner but it wasn't the king of Siam he reminded her
of as he stooped down to inspect her with his raptor eyes, it was
Nosferatu.
Alessandro flung his arms around a leathery old woman half his
size and three times his age, held upright by her crisp white floor length
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