Since I was already up and about, I grabbed a bite from a chicken and waffles place I’d seen but never tried. I found the whole idea odd, but it was popular, so I figured I’d give it a try. I like waffles, and I like fried chicken, but I have to admit the combo left me feeling a little bit at a loss as to why it even existed.
I was surprised to find I wasn’t the first in the office that morning. In fact, the place was humming at eight fifteen, well before our usual opening time.
“Marisa, what’s going on? Why's the place so busy this early?” I asked the receptionist.
“You don’t remember? We changed the hours- now we start at eight,” she replied, surprised by my surprise.
“When did this start?”
“Monday was the first day,” she replied. “Brenda sent out the email about it last week.”
“Huh,” I said. “Nobody ever tells me anything.”
Settling into my office, I opened the laptop and prepared for the work day. Sitting there at my desk with my computer in front of me, I felt a strange sort of dislocation. It seemed as if this was the bizarre and imaginary life, and all that’d happened in the last week in Chicago and New York was the real world.
I took a moment to relax and take a breath, letting the feeling pass. ‘It’s all real life’, I told myself. ‘Just different aspects’.
Jake came into my office sometime around ten and plopped down in one of the chairs facing my desk. “How was your vacation?” He asked.
“Some of it was really good, some of it not so much,” I replied, still thinking about the email I was sending to the San Jose office.
“Well, I’m glad you’re back. You know, some of the changes you made before you left, well, there’s been grumbling.”
Focusing my attention on the new head property manager, I asked, “Tracy?”
“Yeah, her, and maybe a couple of others,” Jake agreed. “Tracy is upset that you took that complex away from her and gave it to me. She thinks she’s entitled to it, and resents having her toes stepped on. Mike, he’s upset that Brenda got the job as office manager. He feels that he should have been allowed to apply for the position. And Randi, she has been complaining that she feels sidelined. Like you’re making an end run around her, and she’s actually mentioned maybe looking for work with another company.”
“Does Tracy know she’s on thin ice already?” I asked.
“Not that I can tell,” Jake replied.
“It looks as if I’m going to need to have a heart to heart with her. Alright- I’ll get that sorted out today. As for Mike, what makes him think he should have been in consideration for the office manager position? The guy doesn’t do any office-type work at all that I’ve ever seen. He’s a freaking accountant, not a manager,” I said, shaking my head. “Jake, Randi is your baby now. You get to be the one to point out to her that now that I’m refocusing what I do, she’ll need to step up and go above and beyond what she has been doing. This change is an opportunity for her to shine.”
“O.K.,” Jake said. Ticking off on his fingers, he said, “You’ll talk to Tracy. I’ll talk to Randi. Brenda will talk to Mike?”
“Yeah, but I need to talk to Brenda first. She needs to be clear on how things need to go.”
“I’ll send Brenda in,” Jake said, rising out of his chair.
The discussion with Brenda was short and sweet. Brenda was one of those people who waste no time getting to the point, a trait I wished more people in business shared.
Nash must have been waiting for Brenda to leave my office, because he came in and sat down the moment she left.
“Busy this morning?” He asked.
“Too much management drama,” I sighed. “I hope you have something to take my mind off it,” I said.
“I found another potential location for the new offices, and I really think this one’s a winner. It’s sort of unusual in the way it has three street-facing sides, and three separate addresses. I’d like you to take a look ASAP, since I think the place might move pretty quickly.”
“Alright,” I agreed. “Let’s go now, and maybe grab lunch afterwards,” I suggested, shutting down my computer.
Marisa reminded me I had a two o’clock when I told her we were headed out for a site inspection and lunch.
At Nash’s questioning look, I groaned and said it was with a potential investor for the REIT. “The guy is talking about parking as much as fifty million in the fund, which is cool and all, but we’ve been doing an email and phone call dance for a while now and I’m just getting sick of it. Just show me the money!” I called out was we stepped into the parking garage.
Nash laughed and said, “I’m glad it’s you dealing with these people, not me. I don’t know how you have the patience.”
“I get my frustrations out in the fighting ring,” I replied. “Punching and kicking people really helps calm me down.”
Shaking his head, he said, “Yeah, that sounds like fun, but the problem is, those people punch and kick back, right?”
“That’s half the fun,” I said with a grin.
“New truck?” I asked as we approached his parking spot.
“Yeah, I figured it was time. I gave my old one to Jenny. She’s been really getting into mountain biking, and her Civic just wasn’t any good for getting her and a bike to the trails.”
“I don’t know if you remember Grace’s Toyota,” I said as we headed east on Wilshire. “Last I heard, it had over two hundred thousand miles on it. She puts something like forty thousand miles a year on that car just getting to whatever river she’s gonna kayak, or trail she’s going mountain biking on, or ski area… whatever. It’s crazy.”
“How is Grace doing? She’s at Arizona State, right?”
“Northern Arizona,” I corrected. “She’s only a few weeks into her freshman year, but seems to be enjoying it. It’s a little hard to be sure, but I think she’s already found a girlfriend.”
“That’s in Flagstaff, right?” Nash asked, more to keep the conversation going than anything else. We chatted like that for a while, until he pulled up in front of a sleek four-story brick and glass office building in Brentwood.
“Here’s the front. This building is currently seventy per cent occupied, but there’s enough room for us at our current level.” Starting up the truck again, he made a right turn at the corner. “Strangely enough, this entrance has its own address and reception area. The building is split in two internally.” Turning right again down an alley, he pointed to the opposite side. “That yard and warehouse are part of the same property.”
“What’re the financials on the current tenants in the offices?” I asked.
“Really good, but that’s part of why the price is steep,” Nash admitted. “Also, this area isn’t exactly cheap.”
“No, it isn’t,” I agreed. “Park and let’s take a walk.”
We spent almost an hour walking around the office building, looking at the large, recently vacated suite on the top floor, and talking to the manager of the equipment rental yard.
“You’re right. This is perfect,” I said to Nash. “Talk to the sellers, let them know we’re interested and want to look a little bit more closely. It’ll take some juggling, but if the numbers work, we can do a cash deal and maybe come out ahead.”
“I thought you’d like it,” Nash said, grinning like a man who’d just won the lottery.
We went to a nearby farm-to-table restaurant for lunch, and the two of us spent most of the time working on our phones instead of talking. Nash was trying to get the deal moving forward, and I was looking at the area’s commercial rental market, trying to fit the pieces together in my mind of how this was going to work.
I was still crunching numbers when Marisa announced my two o’clock was here.
“Send him in,” I replied, and a minute later an older guy in upscale casual clothes came into my office. I stood up and ushered him into one of the seats facing my desk, then sat down myself.
“You’re a lot younger than I expected,” Mr Harris said as soon as the formalities were over.
“I get that a lot,” I admitted.
“I’ve examined your prospectus,” he said. “And you’re doing remarkably well in a tough field. Your growth and returns are both above the industry average, despite your relatively short track record. Now that I see you in person, I can understand why it seems you’ve come out of nowhere.”
“I started the investment trust in my freshman year at Stanford,” I said.
“Excuse me if I say that sounds a lot like Elizabeth Holmes and Theranos,” Mr Harris said.
I laughed and said, “I’ve never met her, but she and her company were all the talk in my business classes. No, I don’t claim any new technological innovation, just good diligence and a lot of market analysis.”
Mr Harris smiled at that and said, “I’d like to believe it, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t do my due diligence as well. What is your policy on outside accountants looking at your books?”
“We’re open book. Like I said, in contrast to Theranos, we have no mysterious trade secret that we keep hidden. Our financials are in the prospectus, but if you want to have your accountants talk to ours, I can authorize access.”
Leaning back, Mr Harris said, “I did a little research into you, personally.”
I smiled at that, and said, “Then you must have known how young I am.”
Smiling sheepishly, he said, “I guess I stepped in that one, didn’t I? Yes, I did know. I also know that you were a national champion volleyball player at Stanford, and that you’re married to the pop musician Emmy De Lascaux. Yes, I wanted to know to whom I was handing fifty million dollars.”
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“How much of my family background did you look into?” I asked, more curious than annoyed.
“Your mother teaches English literature at a community college in San Diego County, your father was awarded the Medal Of Honor posthumously for his actions in Fallujah. You have a younger sister,” he said, answering my question.
“Are you a football fan, Mr Harris?" I asked.
“I was born and raised in Pittsburgh,” he said, smiling. “So naturally, I’m a Steelers fan.”
“My best friend when I was young is playing his first year as a pro with the Los Angeles Rams- Andy Temple. You can add that to my file,” I said, smiling to let him know I was both teasing and not bothered by his investigation.
“Not many people take having their pasts looked into so well,” he said.
I shrugged and said, “Honesty is the best policy. I’d be happy to answer any other questions you may have.”
Leaning forward, Mr Harris said, “You and your wife are probably the most famous lesbian couple in the United States right now, after Ellen and her wife. Have you felt this has had any sort of negative impact on your business?”
I leaned forward, mirroring Mr Harris’ posture. “No, and let me tell you why. The bulk of my investors so far have been from the Silicon Valley, and mostly young tech millionaires. For them, one, they have no stigma against lesbians- in fact, they see it as hip. Two, my marriage to a rock star gives me a sort of personal, um, image. In their eyes, I’m living a life they admire. If there are any who don’t want to do business with me because of my orientation, well, I guess I just never hear from them.”
“Fair enough,” Mr Harris said, leaning back again. “The reason I ask is that if it affects your business, and your business has my money, then it affects my money as well.”
“Of course,” I replied. It was a valid question, and I was glad Mr Harris didn’t dance around the subject. “Honestly, as far as the investment trust goes, I think it’s a complete non-issue. Although some potential investors may shy away, my personal fame may well bring others in. I guess there’s really no way to know for certain.”
“You singled out the investment trust in that statement, I notice,” replied Mr Harris.
“Well, my umbrella company has entertainment and hospitality divisions as well, as I’m sure you’re aware. In those fields, my fame, and that of my wife, is a very real asset,” I explained. “In my property management business, it’s of no consequence whatsoever. Few owner clients even know I own the company, and I can’t imagine any tenants have any idea at all.”
“That makes sense,” he agreed. “So let’s call it perhaps a tiny bit of a net positive, but difficult to measure one way or another.” After a moment of thoughtful silence, he said, “I guess I have only one more question. How did you get that scar?”
“This?” I asked, pointing to my cheek. “I got in a late-night fight in an alley in San Francisco with a couple of guys, one of whom had a knife.”
Judging by the lack of reaction, Mr Harris had known that, too. “When your wife was attacked after a concert, right?”
“Right. A couple of skinheads grabbed her and dragged her into an alley while I was busy loading up the car. I heard a noise, saw them assaulting her, and rushed in and beat them up.”
“Did the police ever catch the guys?”
“Not as far as I know, no,” I answered truthfully.
“The rumor that I have heard is that some believe that you had the men killed,” Mr Harris said, voicing the whispers that had been following me for years now.
“I’ve heard those rumors, too,” I said with a shrug.
“It isn’t true?”
Shaking my head, I said, “No, it isn’t. But talking about what effect it may have on my business, every client or potential client that’s ever mentioned those stories seemed to think that it was a part of my mystique, somehow, and only made investing with me more attractive,” I explained with a chuckle. “I guess it paints me as a ‘very serious individual’,” I said with finger quotes.
Mr Harris laughed at that. “Yes, I can imagine it does. Really, how many fund managers are literal back-alley brawlers?”
“So, do you have any questions for me?” Mr Harris asked after a moment, again leaning back, and I knew he was coming on board.
Emmy was still at Lee’s house by the time I got home that afternoon, but Angela was sitting at her computer, editing pictures from the trip to Chicago and New York. She gave me a big smile when I walked in, an expensive bottle of champagne in my hand. I gave her a kiss, but when I went to pull away afterwards she wrapped her arms tighter around me and didn’t let go, instead deepening the kiss.
“I missed you today,” she said. “And I’m sorry I fell asleep last night. I did promise you some love-making.”
“It was a mighty long day,” I said, giving her a little kiss as a sort of ‘it’s alright’ gesture. “Maybe we can make up for it tonight?”
“It’s a plan. Are we having friends over tonight?” Angela asked, and I got a little thrill at her use of the words ‘we’ and ‘friends’.
“Just Andy and Jenna tonight,” I confirmed.
“I wish you would have told me earlier,” Angela pouted. “I could have made something nice for dinner.”
“No, don’t worry about it. I was planning on ordering delivery from downstairs. I figured we all needed a break after all that travel.”
“You were busy the whole time, but I just sat around and did nothing the entire trip,” Angela pouted. “We didn’t even go to the Empire State Building!”
“We’ll be back there in a few weeks, maybe a month. We’ll go then,” I promised, putting the champagne in the wine fridge.
Angela followed me into the bedroom, wanting to continue talking. She sat on the bed while I changed out of my suit and into a comfy pair of jeans and a long-sleeved Cardinal T shirt.
“I’ve been thinking,” she began.
“A dangerous habit,” I interrupted.
“I know,” she agreed with a smile. “I was thinking about some of the things you said on the trip- well, things you and Emmy said.”
“Yeah?” I asked, sitting down on the vanity’s chair so we could talk.
“About keeping our relationship secret, or telling everybody. What it would mean if my parents found out, and my little sister. What it would mean for my sponsors, and even what it would mean for you and Emmy.”
“I’ve already told you how I feel about it,” I said, getting up and kneeling next to the bed, taking her hands in mine. “I’ll support you whatever you decide, but if it’s secrecy, that might be difficult in the long run. People will find out eventually.”
“I know,” Angela said. “Emmy said pretty much the same thing. She said she would respect whatever it was I wanted to do.”
“So, what is it you want to do?” I asked, my voice gentle.
“I want to tell Andy and Jenna tonight. I’m going to ask them to keep quiet about it, though. I want to be the one that- the one who tells the world, alright?”
“Ange, don’t feel you have to rush anything. Don’t let yourself feel pressured. I mean, all this is so new for all of us, and we’re all so emotional about it right now… I guess what I mean is, take all the time you need. Tell Andy and Jenna tonight if you want, but if you don’t, that’s fine, too.”
“I know it’s fast,” Angela admitted. “But I love you guys more than I ever loved Antonio, and I was with him for almost three years. I want to tell everybody- I’m just worried that some people won’t like it.”
“Some people won’t,” I said. “They just won’t, and won’t want to hear how happy you are. But those people? You don’t need ‘em.”
I sat on the bed next to Angela and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, not saying anything, just holding her.
After a little bit, Angela fished around in her pocket and pulled out her phone. “I’m going to update my status on Facebook,” she explained. A moment later, she showed me the screen. “In a relationship” it said. “I’m going to wait a little while to tell my family. They never really liked Antonio, even though they never actually met him. I’m going to take my time and warm them up to the idea.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I said, giving her a quick side-hug squeeze. Honestly, I didn’t really have any idea how I was going to tell my own mom and sister about our new domestic situation, but I wasn’t too worried, and like I told Mr Harris earlier in the day, my public rep was sort of a wild woman, and that helped with a certain crowd.
Emmy got home a little while later. Angela was back to editing her photos, and I was on the couch, reviewing some market analyses from the San Jose office.
“I am sorry I am late,” Emmy said with a kiss. “The boys were very, very envious of our New York studio. I showed them photos, and now they want to go there and record. We worked on some of the tracks I recorded there, too, and that only made them want to go even more.”
“If you want to take Jackson and Lee back to New York, I’m cool with that,” I said. “I can’t really leave LA any time soon, but you don’t need me to be there.”
“You would not mind?”
“I’d miss you, but no, I wouldn’t mind, if that’s what you want to do,” I replied.
“Can I go to New York with you?” Angela asked.
“You wouldn’t want to stay here with Leah?” Emmy asked, surprised.
“Well, I do, but I also want to go back- with you,” Angela said, biting the side of her lip, looking adorable.
“If you guys want, go ahead,” I said. “I’ll just stay here… and be lonely… all by myself,” I pouted, making Emmy laugh.
“It would only be for a few weeks, no more,” Emmy assured me. “We only need to record some of the things we have been working on, while they are still fresh in our minds. We had been planning on renting studio time, but this way we can take as much or as little time as we wish.”
“No, you don’t need to convince me,” I protested. “I understand, I really do. All I ask is that you remember to not go anywhere at night without Mia. If you’re out in public, she’s right there with you.”
“I can do that,” Emmy promised, giving me another, longer kiss of gratitude.
The conversation flowed smoothly during dinner, mostly to do with Jenna’s plans for their new house in Sherman Oaks. I was silently pleased with Emmy and Angela that they refrained from talking about the New York mansion we just had redone, letting Jenna have her moment. Jenna had brought a binder filled with photos from magazines and printed off the web, along with quite a few carpet, tile and stone samples. She seemed to really want Emmy’s input on the decorating, which was understandable. I mean, Emmy knew better than anybody the difference between classy and gaudy.
After dinner, I brought out the champagne I’d bought earlier.
“What are we celebrating?” Jenna asked when I poured her a flute.
“I had a good day at work today,” I replied.
“What, make an extra million today?” She said, teasingly.
“Fifty-three point five million, actually,” I replied, grinning smugly.
“And you only bought one bottle of champagne? Cheap!”
“Hey, I said ‘a good day at work’, not ‘a great day at work’,” I replied.
I did get out the good bourbon, though, and Andy and I enjoyed that while the girls went with white wine.
“My parents sent us a case of this wine,” Emmy said, pouring three glasses. “It is from a vineyard near ours.”
“Why aren’t we drinking wine from your family’s vineyards?” Jenna asked.
“We make red wine,” Emmy said with a shrug.
“So do you have some of your family wine?” Jenna asked, intrigued.
“Yes, we have a few bottles, would you like some?” Emmy asked.
“Maybe after this?” Jenna replied, holding up her half-full glass.
While this was going on, Andy tilted his head towards the balcony and raised his eyebrows, so I followed him out to the balcony sitting area. He leaned back against the rail, trying to look casual, but failing.
“Um, Leah, I know it’s not my place, really, but I’m kinda getting some, um, vibes from Angela and Emmy. It’s- well, they seem, like, really close, you know what I mean?” Andy said, stumbling his way through it.
“Like there’s something going on between them?” I asked for clarification, and even more, to see Andy squirm with discomfort a bit more.
“Um, kinda, yeah,” Andy said.
“Yeah,” I sighed. “I think they’re having an affair.”
“You seem pretty casual about Emmy, um, getting some on the side,” Andy said, his brows furrowed.
“Well, it’d be pretty hypocritical of me to get upset about it. After all, I’ve been sleeping with Angela, too,” I said.
“What?” Andy exclaimed, trying to keep his voice down.
“In fact, the three of us have been sleeping in the same bed for a week now,” I said, sipping my bourbon.
“Are you shitting me?” Andy asked. “You guys have been, like, a three-way?”
“A ménage à trois, Emmy calls it. It means ‘household of three’.”
“Seriously?”
“Hey, Ange?” I called into the living room. “Could you come here for a moment?”
When she came out to join us, looking puzzled, I leaned down and gave her a big kiss, with tongue, and squeezed her butt, too, for good measure.
“You told Andy?” Angela asked when we broke our kiss, but I kept my arm wrapped around her.
“He kinda figured out that something was up,” I told her.
“Oh, well, O.K.,” Angela said, giving me another quick kiss before heading back inside.
“Wow, that’s fucking insane,” he said as we watched Angela go back to the couch and sit next to Emmy, getting another kiss from my wife.
“Dude, you’re crazy,” he said, shaking his head. “I just can’t imagine it working out in the long run.”
“It might not,” I agreed, shrugging my shoulders. “But we’re gonna give it a try.”
“As long as you guys are happy,” he said, taking a sip. After another sip, Andy said, “Now, I’ll admit I don’t know whiskey all that well, but this is some damned good stuff!”
“It should be- it cost over a grand for the bottle,” I replied, sipping mine.
“Fuck, Leah,” Andy said. “Why are you wasting it on me?”
“Are you enjoying it?” I asked. When he nodded, I said, “Then it’s not wasted.”
“You’re fucking awesome, you know that?” He asked, raising his glass in a toast.
Suddenly feeling emotional, I said to Andy, “You know, I told you I’d forgotten so much of when we were kids. Since we started talking about it, I’ve been remembering more and more. I really think you’re the main reason I got through that time, Andy. I mean it. I don’t really understand why I ever let you slip away- why we stopped being close. But I’m glad- no, more than glad- I can’t even say how much it means to me that you’re back in my life again.”
Andy didn’t say anything in response, just wrapped me up in a big hug. It felt strange to hug someone bigger than myself, but nice, too. We just stayed like that for a while, not saying anything, until the moment passed and we parted.
“Thanks for saying that, Lee. It means a lot to me, too.”