Novels2Search
Emmy And Me
A New Start

A New Start

After the movers had taken the last box I made one last sweep of the condo, checking to make sure we’d packed everything. We had the place for another six weeks, so it wasn’t as if it would be a big deal if we had to come back for something we forgot, but still…

Emmy and Angela were already at the new house, ready to direct the guys as to where the many boxes of stuff and remarkably few pieces of furniture belonged.

I took a few minutes to lean on the balcony railing, thinking about what Jenna had said about the view. Yeah, I was going to miss that, and the convenience of ordering from the restaurant downstairs, and the great job the detailer did on our cars, and the ultra-short commute to school and my office, and… But seriously, it was a really nice place to live and if all else had been equal and Emmy didn’t have her music, I could see us buying a place there in the building.

But Emmy did have her music, and I did seem to be needing more and more parking spaces. If things went right, soon we would be needing a nursery (or maybe two!) and living quarters for whatever live-in help we might take on, too. This move to Wonderland was really the right step, and our life was going to become easier in some ways. Emmy would have an unreasonably easy commute, and with my full home office I could skip going in on days when I didn’t have any meetings scheduled. Angela, well, her work was location-independent to a great extent, so that was fine. She and Emmy had talked about setting up a photography studio in a corner of the sound stage, so maybe that was going to happen, too.

All in all, it was going to be an upgrade in our lives, except for giving up the view from that wonderful balcony living room space in unit number Seventeen F.

Finally satisfied we’d gotten everything that was ours and not part of the condo’s furnishings, I closed and locked the door behind me on my way out, quite likely for the very last time. Yes, it was just transitional space for us, but so much had happened in our lives in the six months we’d lived there that it felt a whole lot longer.

I stopped off at a flower stand on my way to the new house and got two dozen roses for Emmy and Angela. I felt an odd mixture of sadness to see one phase of our life come to an end, but also excitement at starting a new one, and I wanted to commemorate the occasion with the simple gift.

Hitting the gate opener, I pulled the car into what we’d all taken to calling the ‘Batcave Entrance’, which was a surprising distance and around a bend in the street from the house’s main gate into the motor court. The Batcave gate was plain and unmarked and crowded on both sides by a tall hedge hiding a security wall. Passing by, it was far from obvious that it led to our house at all, and that was just perfect as far as we were concerned.

Although three of the garage’s bays were already occupied, I pulled the M6 into the third spot down the line, the space designated for the coupe. I gazed out across the remaining empty bays, wondering what cars might find a home there… Maybe a Range Rover? Maybe James’ 918? Who knows?

The house still smelled like fresh paint down there in the bottom level, even though low toxicity products had been specified. There just wasn’t a lot of airflow on that floor, but now we were living there I could keep the garage doors and windows open to air the place out some.

I found Emmy in the living room, watching Snake and Riggo setting up the Hi-Fi system.

“Hey, babe,” I said, giving her a kiss and a bouquet of flowers. “Have the movers gotten here yet?”

“Yes, they have,” she replied absently, smelling the flowers. “Angela is directing them. You can probably find them-” she began, but was interrupted by Angela’s voice speaking in Spanish, issuing commands to the movers, who followed her into the living room with boxes bound for various places.

“Ange,” I said, getting her attention. I handed her the roses and said, “Welcome home, beautiful.”

Her eyes softened as she smiled, then threw her arms around my shoulders. “We can celebrate when the work is done,” she said, giving me a little peck.

“Promise?”

“Oh, yes,” she replied, before turning her attention back to the workers. “Ven!” she said, indicating they should follow her as she led them downstairs to the bedrooms.

Riggo and Snake seemed satisfied with the stereo’s install, and had selected ‘Dark Times’ to test it out. Riggo pulled the heavy vinyl disc from the sleeve with obvious reverence before setting the LP on the turntable’s platter. Starting it spinning, he gently lowered the needle to the groove, turning the volume knob up about halfway.

Of course I knew what to expect, but when Emmy’s primal scream from ‘Killer In The Dark’ came tearing out of the speakers, I still just about jumped out of my skin. As the scream died and the guitar intro blasted away, I finally understood the value of the mind-bogglingly expensive speakers we’d gotten for the Hi-Fi. At over a hundred grand for the full set, I’d simply shaken my head at the cost when we bought them. Of course, we’d never actually turned up the volume there at the condo, since we had neighbors above, below and on both sides. Even with the building’s serious soundproofing, these speakers would have been far too much.

Here, though, it wasn’t a concern. Our nearest neighbor’s house was a fair distance away with plenty of trees and such in between. Still, a silly rhyme Brent had said back in high School about Rammstein popped into my head, but with a different band name. ‘Roses are red, violets are blue. When I listen to The Downfall, my neighbors do, too.’

Angela returned to the living room, her hands on her hips. “You should have warned everybody!” she chastised. “The guys dropped the boxes when the song started.”

Riggo, for one, didn’t look the least bit sorry. In fact, he grinned like the cat that ate the canary, and high-fived Snake.

“Sorry,” Emmy apologized, having to speak loudly to be heard over the music. “We just had to check to see if the stereo was working properly.”

“Well, it is,” Angela said, still a little bit cross, but also seeing the humor in it. She turned back to the movers and gestured for them to get back to work, which they all did, giving glances back at Emmy.

Satisfied, Riggo lifted the needle off the record and put it back in its sleeve in a way that could only be described as ‘lovingly’. He then tried the various other settings, playing a CD, then internet radio. He tested the whole house speaker systems, too, sending Snake to various parts of the house to check the sound quality as he adjusted the settings.

Finally satisfied, he left the stereo playing an internet blues station on the house speakers in just the public areas of the house, at a greatly reduced volume from before.

“See ya Monday, boss,” said Snake to Emmy as the two left, their task complete.

By this time the movers had unloaded the truck and left, so it was finally just us three in our new home.

Angela bustled about, looking in the kitchen cabinets for vases for the flowers, but finding none. As Emmy and I watched, she vanished to the bedroom, returning a moment later with a notepad.

“I’m starting a shopping list,” she announced. “Anything we need for the house, write it down as you think of it.”

To get the list started, she wrote ‘Flower vases’.

“I’ll go shopping tomorrow,” Angela said. It pleased me to see her acceptance of the idea that this was ‘our home’ and not just ‘Emmy and Leah’s house’. Yes, Emmy and I had said it many times, but this was the sort of subconscious proof that Angela really did believe it, too.

“Angela, come over here. Put that down and come over here for a moment,” Emmy said, indicating the couch in between us.

Puzzled, Angela did as she was told. Emmy wrapped her up in a big hug, then indicated I should do the same.

“Welcome to our new home,” Emmy said. “This is it- where the three of us will make our lives together. We have plenty of time, so no need to feel as if we need to get everything done today, or even tomorrow. In fact, I think we need to celebrate.”

Angela let out a long breath and relaxed her shoulders. “You’re right, I know,” she said. “But we don’t even have the kitchen unpacked. I put the things in the fridge that needed it, but-”

“After we relax a little,” Emmy urged. “I have an idea. It is a warm afternoon, and there is nobody else around. Let us have a little pool party, just the three of us.”

“The big pool or the little one?” Angela asked.

“The little one,” I said. “I don’t know if the big one has even been heated yet, but yesterday I felt the water and the little one is nice and warm.”

“And,” Emmy added. “No bathing suits.”

“Why, Mrs Lascaux,” I said, trying to sound scandalized. “This seems like a ploy to see me naked.”

“Will it work?” she asked, hopeful.

“For sure,” I replied. “I am an exhibitionist, or so I’ve been told.”

Angela laughed and stood up. “You go get us a bottle or two of wine from downstairs,” she commanded Emmy. “And you,” she said, pointing at me, “go get us towels. I’m going to grab some snacks and glasses for the wine. I’ll see you outside.”

As she walked away, Emmy gave me an amused look. “Bossy!” she said, just loud enough for Angela to hear.

Turning around, Angela shook her finger. “No backtalk! Get to it!” she said, unable to hide her smile.

I found us some towels in the linen closet and three big, fluffy robes in the master bath, but when I went out on the back deck I noticed a little towel rack by the patio bar had quite a few towels already. Taking some from the rack, I laid them out over three of the chaises by the side of the small pool for us to lie down on.

Standing there a bit awkwardly, I decided that it was as good a time as any, so I quickly stripped off my clothes and set them aside. “I sometimes think Emmy is a genius,” Angela said as she came out onto the deck and saw me naked. She set the tray of fruit and cheeses down, then took me in her arms for a kiss. “I love seeing you with no clothes on,” she said. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of that.”

“You know what?” I asked, leaning back to look in her pretty blue eyes. “I love seeing you naked, too, so get ‘em off, missy!”

Laughing, Angela stepped away. “Just one minute!” she said as she bolted back into the house. After a few seconds, the music changed from the blues that Riggo had left playing on the house system to some sort of reggaeton station, much more in line with a pool party. Emmy and Angela emerged from the house together, laughing about something, but when Emmy turned to see me, she stopped in her tracks for a moment, surprised to see me already in the buff.

“Hot, isn’t she?” Angela asked knowingly.

“Très hot” Emmy agreed as she resumed walking, carrying her two bottles of wine and a big bottle of Perrier.

“Alright,” I said when she set the bottles down. “Now, you two, naked. Now,” I commanded. They gave each other an amused look, then both did their own unrehearsed strip teases as I stood there with my hands on my hips, watching.

Emmy’s was more polished, her practice with Jen clearly showing. Angela’s was more of an enthusiastic amateur’s routine, but that had its charm as well. Still, the two were both soon naked and laughing, and I couldn’t possibly ask for more.

Pulling them both into my arms, I kissed them each, then lifted both off the ground, took two steps and leapt into the pool as they shrieked in protest.

I’d specified that I wanted a real deep end on our little pool, so when we entered the water we submerged completely. I released both of them and we all swam to the surface, where Angela and Emmy splashed water on my face.

“I can’t believe you did that!” Angela said as she made her way to the side of the pool.

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“You are so strong!” Emmy marveled, clinging to me and feeling my shoulders. “I sometimes forget just how strong you are! You are such a beast!”

The three of us splashed and played in the water for a while, enjoying the warm fall weather and especially the heated pool.

At one point Emmy got out and poured us some wine, setting the plastic stemware next to the pool. I was enjoying the feeling of swimming nude, a feeling I hadn’t had since that summer in Stephanie’s pool after high school.

Of course, I was also enjoying seeing my two beauties swimming naked as well, and when Angela or Emmy would climb out of the water to get a bite or to refill our glasses, the sight of their sleek bodies, dripping with water, was enough to get my engine racing.

I will admit that I became more and more handsy as time went by, but neither Emmy nor Angela seemed to mind it at all. In fact, they both returned the favor.

As the sun set, the air turned chilly and we decided it was time to head inside. I followed Emmy and Angela to our new bathroom, where we had the biggest tub our designer could find.

Emmy started the water going while Angela and I fooled around a little bit. Soon there was enough water, so Emmy climbed in, and so did Angela and I, albeit much more slowly than Emmy had.

Once Emmy had shut off the water, Angela said, “I just don’t know how you can stand the water so hot, Em,” wonder in her voice.

“I like it like that,” Emmy said with a shrug. “I always have.”

This new tub was large enough that we didn’t have to be on top of each other to fit, which suddenly struck me as possibly a negative feature. The three of us were touching, yes, but not as close as I’d prefer. Thinking about it, it occurred to me that maybe that was O.K. sometimes. A bath could be a time for companionship that wasn’t carnal.

“I think this new house might just work out alright,” Angela said with a sigh, interrupting my thoughts.

“I think we will be happy here,” Emmy agreed, using her hands to pour water on herself.

“I already am,” Angela said with a disarming smile.

After our bath, Angela made a nice pasta salad for our first dinner in the new house. It was a low-key celebration, but perfect just for that reason. When I’d first discussed the plans with the architect and designer for what I wanted there with the studio, I’d made it clear that we wanted very real separation between the house and the working parts of the structure, and they’d done just that. My tower office windows looked out over the entire property, but from the house side of things all the windows and the deck looked out towards the south and down the canyon towards Hollywood’s downtown, if you could call it that. The offices, lounge, and so on of the studio all looked towards the north and the motor court and the hillside. Anybody approaching from the motor court (the parking lot, in less fancy terms) would really only see the recording studio and not into the house side of things at all.

The only real overlap in the two functions was the lounge/game room and big pool and patio area. I figured those could function both as break area for people using the recording studios and, on the weekends or after hours, our own personal playground.

But for now, our great room had nice triple-sliding doors so the whole side could open up onto the deck which was half covered by a pergola, essentially mimicking the balcony living room we’d had in The Century- except now we also had a small pool and hot tub, too.

All in all, it made the house seem very private and secluded, even from what would hopefully be a busy recording and film studio on the other side of the wall.

A nice, relaxing evening with just the three of us, enjoying a simple meal in the privacy of our new home- well, it really was perfect.

While eating, Emmy brought up the idea of household staff. “We will need someone like Luisa to manage the house here, too,” she said. “Riggo and Snake will be running the recording studio, and for now Jackson will manage it, but we will need someone to oversee the actual facility, so it could be the same person who splits duties,” she said. “And we will probably need a full-time security service as well.”

“I talked to Ned a few weeks ago about hiring somebody to manage the property,” I said. “He said his cousin’s daughter hasn’t been able to find a job in her field after college, and she might be good at it. He said she has no experience managing a property, per se, but she’s really detail-oriented and good with money.”

“We don’t actually need to hire anybody,” Angela said. I still hadn’t gotten over the thrill of hearing her use words like ‘we’ or ‘our’- it gave me a little feeling of pleasure every time she did it without thinking. “I can do it. I mean, I feel like I don’t contribute anything, and this is something I could do. It wouldn’t take up all that much of my time, but it would give me something to do. We’re just talking about things like making sure the gardeners, or window washers, cleaning crew, or whoever, do their jobs, and call the plumber if anything needs to be fixed, right?”

“Yeah, more or less,” I conceded. “But babe, don’t take this on because you feel, I don’t know, guilty or something.”

“It isn’t that, not really,” Angela replied. “It’s just- well, you two are so busy, and I’m really not. It seems like something I can do to make life easier for everybody.”

“But Angela, ma chere, who will do all of that when you’re in New York? Or if we go to Paris or London?” Emmy asked. “I am certain you would do a better job than anybody we might hire, but it would curtail your freedom, and I would not want that for you.”

Angela’s shoulders slumped as she absorbed Emmy’s words. “I guess that’s true,” she admitted. “Right now, I can go to San Jose with Leah, or back to New York with both of you, or wherever, and if I was the one in charge of the property, I couldn’t do that.”

“Exactly,” Emmy said. “I want you to have that freedom. I want you with me, I want you with Leah. The very last thing I would want is for you to feel stuck here because you need to oversee some work that needs to be done.”

“Babe, Em’s right,” I said, taking Angela’s hand. “I appreciate where you’re coming from, and I understand better than you might think about how you feel on the subject of wanting to contribute, but here’s the thing- you contribute so much to our lives, Emmy’s and mine, just by being you, and by being with us.”

Angela’s eyes softened as she squeezed my hand. She silently mouthed the word “Thanks.”

Emmy cleaned up after dinner while Angela and I relaxed on the sectional sofa. I’d made it clear to the designer that although I wanted the Mid-Century theme for the new home’s furniture, I absolutely didn’t want to sacrifice comfort and utility for style. No clear plastic ‘bubble chairs’ or anything like that for us. She’d done a great job of it, and it was all very livable. The gray herringbone couch was a perfect example- it fit the look perfectly, but unlike a lot of furniture from that period, it was actually really comfortable.

Especially when you had a beautiful, loving woman draped across you.

Angela lay on top of me, her head tucked up under my chin. As so often was the case when we snuggled like that, her hand had found its way up under my shirt. She was idly playing with my boob as we lay there listening to Emmy sing to herself as she washed up.

“I am very happy,” Angela said, her voice soft. “I love you and Emmy so much, and I love our new home, and I love the thought of us starting a family here.”

“But?” I asked.

“But I do feel like some sort of freeloader,” she confessed with a sigh. “I know in my mind what you said when you first took me in, about the rent I mean, well, it’s true. I just don’t make nearly as much money as you or Emmy, so I can’t really contribute like that…”

“You know Emmy doesn’t, either, right?” I asked.

“What do you mean?” Angela asked, lifting up her head to look at my face.

“She doesn’t actually make any money. Well, I mean she earns a lot, sure, but she doesn’t bring any home. Every penny she earns from her music she gives away,” I said.

“Seriously?” Angela asked, amazed.

“Every single penny. Jackson and Lee get their shares, but Emmy’s share all goes to charity,” I explained.

Angela was quiet, digesting the information. “In fact,” I added, “we’ve been talking about starting a foundation. We’d start it with a hundred million Euros.”

“I want to build schools in Europe and North Africa,” Emmy said as she joined us, sitting on the edge of the sofa. She stroked the back of Angela’s thigh, and said, “Here in the US, we’ve already started doing that, on a small scale. Schools to teach the Night Children how to integrate into Day Walker society.”

“A hundred million Euros?” Angela asked, still trying to process.

“Yes,” Emmy confirmed.

“That’s a lot of money,” Angela said. “Did you earn all that from your music?”

“What? No!” Emmy laughed. “I have only earned about forty million from my music, and I have already given all that away. No, this is money that Leah has earned.”

“You have that much money to give away?” she asked.

“Yeah, I do,” I said. “Or, I will when we get all the details sorted out, anyway. So you can see why neither of us is worried if you bring any money into the family bank account or not.”

“I had no idea,” Angela said, pulling her hand from under my shirt and reaching out for Emmy’s hand.

“Was this hand squeezing Leah’s breast just a moment ago?” Emmy asked, taking the offered hand.

“Um, yes?” Angela said.

Emmy kissed the palm and slid Angela’s hand back under my shirt. “That is a very good use for it,” she said with a laugh.

Bashfully, Angela returned her hand to my boob, running her fingertips in circles around my nipple. She looked back at Emmy, who smiled her encouragement.

“Are you happy with us?” Emmy asked tenderly.

“Very much,” Angela replied, laying her head down on my shoulder again.

“We are very happy to have you as part of our lives, Angie,” Emmy said, leaning down and kissing the bare skin between Angela’s top and the waistband of her leggings. “Very happy you have chosen to be with us.”

“It’s true, babe,” I said, kissing the top of her head.”Speaking for myself, I can honestly say that my life is better for you being part of it.”

Angela squirmed a little, uncomfortable at being the center of so much attention.

“Baby, look at me,” Emmy said, stroking Angela’s sculpted rear. “I want you to see something.”

Angela lifted her head and turned to look at Emmy, who said, “Angela, this is for you.”

Angela gasped when she saw the small purple velvet box Emmy held out. Turning to face Emmy more fully, she took the little box reverently, almost afraid to open it to see what lay inside. Finally mustering up the courage, Angela flipped open the lid and saw the ring Emmy had commissioned.

This wasn’t exactly the way I’d imagined the scene would happen, but Emmy and I had discussed it and our first day in the new house seemed like the right time. We’d told Angela we considered her to be our lover, our companion, our secret wife, and she’d said yes, she wanted that, too, but that really hadn’t felt like enough. We wanted the symbol as well.

“Ay, Dios!” Angela breathed as she pulled the metal band from its perch on the tiny purple pillow it was tucked into. Emmy reached out and gently took Angela’s left hand, and then the ring from Angela’s unresisting fingers.

“Angela, do you promise to love and to hold Leah and me, as long as we shall live?” she asked, her voice a bit shaky.

“I- I do,” Angela said, her own voice cracking a bit.

“Angela, I promise to love and to hold you as well, as long as I live,” Emmy said, barely able to form the words, her voice so full of emotion.

“Angela, I promise to love and hold you, as long as I live, too,” I said, taking her right hand. I must confess, tears were rolling down my own cheeks, matching Angela’s.

“It is done. We are one,” Emmy pronounced, slipping the band, split evenly between a black half and a gold half, onto Angela’s ring finger.

Angela held up her hand, staring in awe at the ring, turning it to see the gold half, then the black zirconium half, then the gold again.

“It’s so beautiful,” she breathed.

“Then it is perfect for you,” Emmy said, leaning down and kissing Angela, long and tender. It was sweet, loving, and oh, so very sexy. When they parted, Angela lowered herself down to me and we kissed, too. I wanted to convey my feelings for her, and she obviously felt the same way.

“What do I tell people?” Angela wondered aloud.

“Tell people that I love you,” Emmy said, stroking Angela’s cheek. “Tell people that Leah loves you. Tell people that you love us, too.”

“Or don’t tell them anything,” I suggested. “Or tell them to mind their own business, or that you have a Canadian husband. It doesn’t matter to me what you tell people, as long as you tell us you love us,” I said.

“Canadian husband?” Angela asked, perplexed.

“It’s an old joke,” I said. “Don’t worry about it. What I mean is that it’s not important what you say. Emmy and I love you, you and I love Emmy, and the two of you love me, right? That’s what’s important.”

“I have done some research,” Emmy said. “I could not find any country that would allow same-sex polygamy, although some traditional African cultures allow it in practice under certain circumstances. This means that we cannot be wed in the eyes of the law, as much as I wish we could. That does not mean that I take it any less seriously, Angela,” Emmy continued. “To me, this is real. Very real.”

“Ange,” I said, leaning in for another kiss. “Are you doing alright?”

“I’m- honestly, I feel a bit overwhelmed,” she admitted. “But in a good way!” she added, to make sure Emmy and I understood. “This makes me so happy I could explode, but also sad, because like Em said, it’s real to us, but not to anybody else.”

“Nobody else matters,” I said, holding her tightly.

Angela clung tightly to me in return, while Emmy rubbed her back.

“I don’t know what to tell my parents,” Angela finally said.

“They know the three of us are in a relationship, right? From what I’ve been able to tell, they’ve been surprisingly supportive,” I said. “Don’t use the word ‘marriage’. Tell them you’re committed to Emmy and me, and we’re committed to you. It’s the truth, and it’ll be easier for them to accept.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Angela said, sounding unconvinced.

“It is very important to me that you make it very clear to your mother and father that you are not our…” Emmy said, searching for the right word. “Our mistress. You are our partner.”

“Em is right,” I agreed. “I don’t want them thinking that you’re somehow just our, um, plaything, you know? We don’t just keep you around for the sex.”

“But the sex is good, isn’t it?” Angela asked, a bit saucily.

“The sex is very good,” Emmy confirmed. “Very good. But it is not why we love you. We love you because of who you are in your heart.”

Angela let her head drop on my shoulder again and let out a contented sigh. “Even if we can’t get married in a church, I’m happy to be your wife, both of you. I love being with you. I want to be with you for the rest of our lives.”

“There is one more important question that I must ask,” Emmy said, her voice turning serious.

“What? What is it?” Angela asked, suddenly concerned.

“Where would you like to go for our honeymoon?”

“That was mean!” Angela protested. “You had me worried!”

“I was thinking the Seychelles might be nice,” I said. “Maybe one of those places out over the water.”

“But Emmy-” Angela began.

“I will know to be more careful this time,” Emmy said, interrupting Angela’s protest. “I have told you it has always been my dream to go to such a place, did I not? I will simply make certain that I do not get too much sun, and do not become the main food source for all the mosquitos on the island.”

This got a little laugh. “If you need any help applying sun lotion, or mosquito repellant, let me know,” Angela said. “It’s my job as your wife to make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

“Hey!” I said. “Are you implying I did a terrible job there in Key West?”

“You said it, not me,” Angela replied with a mischievous grin. “I think my hands will be full taking care of both of you,” Angela said.

“Hey- is that a sexual reference?” I demanded, unable to stop a chuckle.

“It could be, yes,” Angela agreed, looking thoughtful.

That night we christened our new bed in grand style, repeatedly. Angela was particularly amorous, and Emmy and I were perfectly willing to let her have her way with us. As far as I was concerned, Angela needed to know that we wanted her to be an equal in our household of three and me topping her all the time would have just the opposite effect. Also, it was nice to be the one receiving attention. It isn’t as if Angela and Emmy were total pillow princesses, but I did have a tendency to give rather than receive.

It was wonderful to witness Angela’s ever-increasing confidence in bed, and wonderful to experience her ever-improving technique.

Eventually we fell asleep with Angela getting the middle spot. We were all three sated and happy, and starting this new phase of our lives together in a warm cocoon of love.