"And it's a greet, greet day for motorcar rac... Yipe!!"<br/><br/>Cooper's habitual Jackie Stewart imitation - he couldn't help it, the phrase popped out every time he sat down to watch Formula One - was abruptly halted by the buzzing in his hip pocket. What the hell was that? Oh, right ... a beeper. He had never carried one of those things before, and upon receiving it from Mel had jammed it into a pocket and forgotten about it immediately.<br/><br/>He spun the gadget a few times before finding the LCD readout.<em>Get your ass down here now!</em>He blinked. "Unless a shorted 220 line has actually set something on fire, missy, we'll need to have a talk," he muttered and pitched the beeper onto the ottoman.<br/><br/>His mood of mounting irritation didn't long survive his arrival at Mel's desk. The sight of the pretty blonde at reception lifted his spirits immeasurably; the mammoth muscle man at the bar boggled his mind.<em>Jumpin' Jesus on a pogo stick, is anybody really that huge?</em>he wondered, then gulped.<em>And who's he here for?</em><br/><br/>"Ssssso, Mel." Cooper gave a small wave. "What's up?" He turned to the new girl and nodded to her as well. "Miss. Say ... haven't I seen you somewhere before? You look awfully familiar."