In the cab I wondered if the guys I’d talked to really were going to dump some money into my REIT, or if it had all been some sort of strange businessman flirting. In any case, it didn’t matter that much one way or another. The primary goal of going had been for Emmy to act as a draw to bring money to the refugee aid organization and it had seemed to do that, so that was a very good thing. If my REIT picked up some new investors, well, that was a side benefit.
Looking out the cab’s windows at the city’s lights, my thoughts drifted to Angela’s idea of buying a house in London. Emmy had pointed out that if her parents wanted to spend time with their granddaughters they could come to California, but realistically our kids were going to grow up as little citizens of the world, so a home base in Europe might be a good thing. I liked Angela’s idea of being just the right distance away from Emmy’s parents, but honestly, there was nothing to stop them from buying a place just across the street from ours in London if they wanted.
Of course, they could do that in Los Angeles, too, if they felt that Fallbrook was too far from our home in the Hollywood Hills. I didn’t know how much money they had, but I suspected it was significantly more than we did. Certainly enough to justify their own jet, after all.
Emmy and Angela were asleep when I got in, so I got undressed as quietly as I could and slipped in next to Emmy, who turned in her sleep and rested her head on my shoulder. Pondering my good fortune, I quickly fell asleep as well.
I woke first, as usual, so I slipped out as quietly as I could for a run. I figured a lap around Kensington and Hyde parks would be a good way to get my heart rate up, but as I stepped out into the cold rain I had second thoughts. Still, I was there and dressed for a run, so run I did. I warmed up quickly as I ran in the still mostly dark morning, and soon enough only my hands were cold.
I was grateful the park gates were open, even though actual sunrise was probably not for another hour at least. There were a handful of other early-morning exercisers out, but for the most part the two parks were empty. I didn’t mind- it allowed me to let my brain disengage from the act of running to focus on other things in my life, namely Emmy and Angela.
Angela’s desire for a place in London had surprised me, but I certainly didn’t object to the idea. Any desirable real estate would be a positive investment, after all, so it wasn’t as if we’d lose money on the deal. I had my doubts on how much time we would actually spend in London, but the Manhattan townhouse was being used more than I’d expected, so who knows?
I had a hard time imagining I’d do much business in the UK, but maybe way down the line I could expand Royal Holdings across the Atlantic…
Then there was the question of stepping on Emmy’s parents’ toes, and that seemed to be a real concern of Emmy’s. That was the unspoken reason Emmy didn’t want to get an apartment in Paris, after all. I doubt our business interests would ever come in conflict, but the idea that we had our own people, our own Night Children that weren’t beholden to their nation, that might be an issue.
London should be far enough away, but I did get the impression that Mr Lascaux did business in the UK, and his nation probably included the region as well. Still, if we had our own people here but didn’t actively recruit we should probably be fine. This was something to talk about with Emmy’s dad, and I liked to think that the two of us had a good enough relationship that we could have an honest discussion on the subject. I resolved to give him a call before we got too deep into looking for our potential pied-à-terre, just to make sure we were clear.
“Babe! You’re soaking wet!” Angela said when I got back to the hotel room.
“Yes, I am. You do that to me,” I said, wrapping her in my arms for a kiss.
She squealed and pushed me away, turning to point me in the direction of the shower. “Go take a shower and get warmed up,” she admonished.
Emmy joined me in the shower, taking the shampoo bottle from my hand. “Did you have a nice run?” she asked, lathering up my hair.
“Other than the fact it was cold, wet and dark, yeah, it was nice,” I said.
Emmy laughed and said, “You are so… You are immune to the things that the rest of us find uncomfortable or difficult. I do not understand how you can be so… unstoppable. It is very impressive.”
I tilted my head back as she massaged my scalp, enjoying the attention. “I dunno,” I said. “I guess I don’t think about it much.”
“And that is why you are so amazing, Leah. You simply are the way you are.”
Turning around to take Emmy in my arms and kiss her, I said, “And I love you because of the way you are, too, so that makes us even.”
We skipped the hotel’s buffet breakfast in favor of a cute little restaurant a few blocks away. I had their signature eggs Benedict on a muffin with bacon, which really hit the spot. Emmy had avocado toast served with poached eggs and radishes, which struck me as odd. Angela’s ‘Mexican’ omelet had feta cheese, which was also a head scratcher, but she said it tasted fine, so I guess that was O.K.
The other diners in the small restaurant were clearly aware of who Emmy was, judging by the sneaked glances and quiet whispers, but none actually came over to ask for pictures or anything, so we could talk in peace.
“I was thinking this morning on my run,” I said. “About us getting a place here in London. Ange, I know you like the idea of a townhouse like the one we went to last night, and I can’t say I think it’s a bad idea, but honestly, an apartment in a secure building might work better for us.” Holding up my hand to forestall any objections, I said, “Think about it. Our place in New York- we need Luisa and Mia and Wally to take care of it, even when we’re not there, right? It’d be the same if we bought a townhouse, or country manor or whatever here, right? But if we buy a nice place in one of these high-rises you see up and down the river, the building would provide all the care and maintenance the place would need while we’re in LA or New York. All we would ever need is to just walk in when we wanted.”
“That… makes sense,” Angela agreed. “If we could find a building like The Century in Los Angeles, and get a nice unit with a view…” she said, thinking about it.
“It would not feel so very ‘London-like’ as would a classic townhouse in Mayfair,” Emmy said, “But it might be more practical.”
“How would we be able to have parties?” Angela asked.
“The same way we did at The Century. Sure, we wouldn’t be able to invite a hundred people over, but we wouldn’t be able to do that in a townhouse like last night, either,” I replied.
“There were probably fifty people there last night,” Angela countered.
“That place was about half the size of our place in New York, right?” I asked. “So, let’s say, five thousand square feet. If we find a- well, it’ll probably have to be a penthouse, to be that large, but if we find an apartment that’s as big, then maybe we can have that many people over at the same time.”
“I guess…” Angela conceded.
“I think most people here don’t drive their own cars anyway, right? So parking isn’t really the issue it would be back in LA.”
“No, you’re right,” Angela said.
I could see Angela giving the idea some thought while we finished breakfast, and I was happy to leave her to her thoughts. If this was going to be her choice, all I wanted to do was offer suggestions.
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Emmy glanced at her watch when we left the breakfast place, announcing that we had plenty of time to make it to my appointment.
“What appointment is that?” I asked. “The clinic is tomorrow.”
“No, this is for you,” Emmy said. “You alone.”
When Emmy gave the address to the cab driver I got my first clue- Savile Row. Sure enough (and honestly, to my surprise) Savile Row was pretty much nothing but extremely high-end tailor shops. Emmy led me and Angela into one shop in particular that didn’t look too promising from the front. Sure, it was obviously a very high-end tailor, but the window only featured men’s suits.
We were greeted by a middle-aged woman who looked me up and down, nodding to herself a few times. “I can see what you meant in your emails,” she told Emmy. “Yes. Will you two wish to stay while we have our consultation and fitting?”
“Em, this is your department,” I said. “I know next to nothing about clothing,” I explained to the lady. “Emmy here is my fashion guide.”
“That is not particularly unusual,” the woman said with a little smile.
What followed was a whirlwind of discussions of everything from shoulder silhouettes to lapel and buttonhole shapes to appropriate cloth for Los Angeles weather. I offered my opinion on a few things, but for the most part let Emmy and Magdalena make the rest of the decisions for me.
The measuring was unbelievably thorough, but the two ladies who did it were such pros that I never actually felt uncomfortable, despite the intimacy of the process.
“This will be interesting for us,” Magdalena mused at one point. “I think you are the first of our lady clients to specify range of movement, and to require measures to accommodate your generous musculature.”
“But you have had male clients who’ve had similar requirements, no?” Emmy asked.
“Certainly,” Magdalena admitted. “But we have never tailored hidden pleats in a lady’s suit before. This will take a bit of ingenuity.”
“Then we came to the right place,” Emmy said, giving the woman a smile.
“Most certainly,” Magdalena agreed. “Our seams will not rip out if Ms Farmer finds herself in another scrap outside her gym, I can promise you that.”
I did a face palm. “Does everybody know about that?” I asked the world at large.
“Your wife and I have been emailing, discussing your unusual requirements, and she informed me of the failure of your Armani suit under those circumstances,” Magdalena said, and I could detect more than a tiny bit of disdain when she said the designer’s name.
“To be fair, it was a lightweight linen suit, and we wrestled on old, rough asphalt,” I said.
“Our suits will not fail, if it should happen again,” Magdalena said with complete confidence.
We left after four head-spinning hours, with me promising to return in two months for a final fitting. There had been no discussion of money at all, so I assumed that Emmy had worked it out in advance. I preferred to not even think about how much five bespoke suits would even cost, but I guess ultimately it didn’t matter. Emmy wanted this for me, and we had the money, so why not?
During a late lunch at a vegetarian restaurant nearby, Angela held up her phone. “What do you think of this?” she asked, handing it over.
It was an apartment for sale listing in a high-rise down by that old power station from the Pink Floyd album cover. It looked nice, but that was it. Just nice, no more. The price was a bit ridiculous for what you get, but not actually all that surprising. Seriously, London, right?
I scrolled through a few more of the listings, finally handing it back. “I like this one better,” I said.
“That one?” Angela said, her eyes wide. “But- it’s just too much!”
“Do you like it?” I asked.
“Well, of course, I mean, it’s amazing! But we can’t spend that kind of money…” Angela protested. I took the phone from her and handed it to Emmy for inspection.
“It has great views, and the natural light is phenomenal,” Emmy said. “We should look at it.”
“But Em! It’s too much money!” Angela said.
“Leah knows our finances far better than you or I,” Emmy said, looking through the pictures again. “If she thinks that we can afford it, I trust her judgement.”
“It’s not too late to choose a yacht instead,” I joked as I took Angela’s phone back from Emmy to call the real estate agent with the listing.
Angela looked at me to see if I was joking, but then said, “I’ve lived this long without a yacht. I can live without one for a while longer.”
Walking into the sales office on the ground floor of the concrete and glass tower, the receptionist was quick to recognize Emmy, immediately calling for someone to come help us. A young guy in a shiny suit quickly emerged from a back office and shook our hands.
“How may I help you?” he asked, unsure whether to look at Emmy or at me.
I asked Angela for her phone, showing the guy the unit we’d looked at.
“Penthouse two?” he asked, surprised.
“Yes, we’d like to see it, please,” I said, my tone of voice conveying that we were serious.
“Right, right,” he said. “Let me just get my manager. He would be the one to show it to you. He’ll be with you in just a moment,” he said, before fleeing back to the offices in the back. Almost immediately a heavyset middle-aged man came out, saying, “Reggie tells me that you’re interested in viewing penthouse two? You do know that it isn’t finished yet, right?”
“We saw the photos online,” I said. “I think that we actually prefer it that way. As it is, we can have it built out to our specifications.”
“Right, right,” he said, nodding. “Right, well, let’s go up,” he said, indicating we should follow.
As we made our way to the elevator he rambled on about the building’s amenities and security. “We are still putting the finishing touches, as you can see,” he said, indicating a work crew pushing a trolley laden with equipment. “But by the time the penthouse is finished it will all be well and done.”
As he keyed in a code on the security keypad in the elevator, he said, “This is temporary. When the construction is done a more traditional keyed access to the penthouse level will be installed.”
The elevator took us to the 38th floor (really, for us Americans, the 39th floor) and then the ‘P’ button lit up to indicate we were at the top.
There was a small but elegant lobby with three doors, one relatively plain one that must have led to an emergency stairwell or something like that, and two much nicer doors marked ’39.01’ and ’39.02’.
“Penthouse one is already finished and under contract, but two, which is the larger…” he said, keying in an access code on the door’s keypad. “This is also temporary,” he said, indicating the digital lock. We followed him into the apartment, and he was right- it was very far from finished. Plain wallboard in some areas, metal studs with nothing else in some others.
But that didn’t seem to matter to Angela. She was drawn to the enormous wall of glass two stories tall that made up the entire southwest corner of the building.
“Look- there’s the Eye,” she said, pointing. “We were up there just yesterday.”
“Explain to me the process of finishing this unit,” I said to the real estate guy. “Do we bring in our own construction crew?”
“Oh, heavens, no,” he said. “Our crews will do the work, but if you want it built out differently than we have planned, you will need your own architect and design firm.”
The two of us turned to watch Emmy and Angela drift from what would be room to room, if there had been walls. They were commenting on this or that view, and how amazing the light was, even though it was mid afternoon in the middle of winter.
Eventually we all found ourselves up on the terrace, which was no more than a bare tiled surface with glass walls to block the wind.
Angela came over to cuddle up inside my overcoat. “I love it, Lee, I really do.”
“Right- that’s it, then,” I said to the man. “We’ll take it. Where do I have the money sent?”
“I’m sorry, what?” he asked, surprised.
“I said we’ll buy it. My bank is based out of California, and with the eight hours time difference,” I said, glancing at my watch, “It’ll be an hour before they get to the office. That gives us enough time to get the paperwork started.”
Recovering, the guy said, “Right, right, the paperwork,” he said, leading us back inside.
As we followed, I told Angela, “O.K., now the next part is on you. You have to find an interior designer who can do up this place the way you want.”
“Me?" she asked, stunned.
“Emmy did it for the place in Manhattan, I did it for the Los Angeles house. It’s your turn now. Make this the place you want it to be.”
A couple of hours later, after everything was taken care of and the money had been transferred, I told the real estate guy that we’d find a designer and get the project started as soon as we could.
“This has been the easiest transaction since we opened up sales six months ago,” he replied.
“I buy and sell a lot of properties,” I told him.
“It shows,” he said. “It will be a pleasure to see the penthouse finished and occupied." That night we bumped into Lee and Jen coming back from dinner. “What did you guys do today?” Jen asked. “We saw Bryan Cranston in the stage production of Network. He was freaking amazing.”
“We, uh, we bought a penthouse by the Thames,” Angela said. “Lee bought it for me.”
“Of course she did,” Jen said, rolling her eyes. “Of fucking course she bought you a London penthouse.” Turning to Lee, Jen said, “Hey, babe, you hear that? Angela wanted a London penthouse apartment, so Leah just bought her one. I think I’d like a London penthouse apartment, too. Whaddaya say? I think you should buy me one.”
“Dream on! Dream on!” Lee sang in his best Steven Tyler impersonation. “Dream until your dream comes true!”
“Seriously, did you guys really just buy a place here in England? None of you are citizens here, right?” Lee asked.
“I looked it up,” Angela said. “We can stay for six months at at a time without residency.”
“Huh. Well, Em, it’s gonna be a lot harder to get our work done if you’re way over here in England and me and Jax are in LA.”
“We got work done in New York, did we not?” Emmy asked with a laugh.