To my total lack of surprise, Rosalie was completely star-struck meeting Emmy, while Grace rolled her eyes so loudly I’m sure the neighbors could all hear it.
I gave Grace a little elbow bump and said in a low voice, “You were the same way four years ago.”
Looking as if she would object, Grace let her shoulders slump in defeat. “Yeah, I guess.”
Dinner that night was uncomfortable, partially because of Rosalie’s nearly non-stop chatter (mostly with Emmy), but more as a result of Grace’s awkwardness with Angela. I wasn’t sure exactly what was going on there, but I could certainly feel it, and so could Angela.
Later, in bed, Angela asked Emmy about it.
“I think it is a little bit of jealousy,” Emmy said. “Grace isn’t accustomed to sharing us with anyone. I am certain it is not intentional or that she is even aware of it.”
“Makes sense,” I agreed. “Probably at some subconscious level she thinks of you as an intruder.”
“What can I do to make her like me?” Angela asked.
“Just be nice, I guess. Really, it’s on her to accept that you’re part of our lives now,” I said, giving Angela a kiss.
The next day the two girls went off early to explore Los Angeles or something, so Angela and I went driving with the crew while Emmy worked on her music at Lee’s place.
Angela was wearing what was basically a bra as a top, covered to some degree by a sort of oversized blazer that only had one button pretty much directly above her bellybutton. Her skirt matched the jacket, but was so short and the jacket so big it barely showed at all. It was a stylish and very sexy outfit straight from her sponsor’s newest catalog, and Angela wanted to get a lot of photos.
Of course, the boys were all perfectly willing to let her pose with their cars- yes, even Stein. Jimmy’s sister exuded her usual attitude, but it seemed to me that she might have actually liked Angela at least a tiny bit, which was better than the loathing she seemed to harbor for all the rest of us, her brother most of all.
By coincidence, the new color Stein had chosen to wrap his McLaren was a pretty close match for the lime green of Angela’s outfit, so it was a perfect opportunity. I used Angela’s good camera to take a whole series of shots from on top of Angeles Crest. Angela posed for a couple of dozen shots with Stein’s car, sitting on the hood, sliding out of the driving seat, leaning against the side, so on. With Los Angeles spread out in the distance in the background and the brilliant blue of the sky dominating the top half of the picture, the shots were bound to turn out great.
Nobody complained about the half hour spent at the big turnout, since for the most part I think they enjoyed watching Angela pose like that. I mean, they had a perfect excuse to stare like schoolboys, right?
Back in the M6 and headed towards Angeles Forest, Angela asked how I felt about her working.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I’ve been asked to do some shoots, but I haven’t said yes or no yet,” she said, sounding a bit nervous. “I wanted to talk to you and Em first.”
“Ange,” I said. “Modeling is your job. Neither of us want you to give up your life for us- I hope you know that. You do whatever it is you think is right for you and your career,” I said, resting my hand on her bare leg.
She put her hand on mine and scooted it a bit higher and more to the inside. When I glanced over, she gave me a saucy grin as I caressed the ever-so-soft skin of her upper inner thigh.
“I want you to promise me you won’t crash,” she said, stroking the back of my hand.
“Why would I crash?” I asked, and in response she slid my hand up to the spot where her two strong legs joined. My pinkie finger found its happy spot, moving across the smooth silk covering Angela’s delicate bits.
I will admit I did find it distracting, but we were way back in the line of cars so our speeds weren’t particularly high and I could multitask just fine, despite the increasing sexy sounds Angela was making.
It didn’t take long before Angela’s legs clamped down hard on my hand, holding it tightly in place as she trembled in release.
“Thank you. I needed that,” she gasped as she recovered and moved my hand back to near her knee. “I wish I could do that for you right now,” she said.
“Yeah, but then I probably would crash,” I agreed.
After a few minutes of silence, Angela said, “I do want to marry you and Emmy, even if it’s a secret we three keep. I’m happy with you and her. Happier than I’ve been since I was a little girl, I think. I do want to live with the two of you for the rest of my life. I want to raise our baby together.”
“Our baby?”
“I’ve been talking to Emmy about it,” Angela said, looking out the window as we turned onto Big T. “I think it would be amazing to have a daughter raised by three mothers, each of us so different. She would learn so much… And maybe, I could have a baby, too, so they would have each other…”
I squeezed her leg and said, “Any child that has you for a mother would be a lucky baby indeed.”
“But it wouldn’t just be me,” Angela protested. “She would also have Emmy, and you.”
I kept my hand on her leg, stroking her skin and giving her gentle squeezes every so often to communicate the emotions that I had a hard time forming words to say.
At our first stop light in Sunland I leaned over and kissed her. “I want you to be a mother to my children,” I said. “Thank you for saying that you want that, too.”
“Emmy and I have been talking, like I said,” Angela replied. “We want to really start making things happen when we’re settled into the Wonderland house.”
“I guess I’m really going to have to step up my efforts to get the two of you pregnant,” I joked.
Angela smiled, her ever-so-expressive face lighting up with mirth. “Maybe we can get in some practice tonight,” she suggested.
“I’d like that,” I agreed. “I’d like that a lot.”
After lunch with the crew at a Cuban sandwich shop in Burbank, Angela and I made a stop at the new house to check on progress.
Ned was swamped with subs needing his time, so we just waved hello and walked around. Things were really coming together, and for the first time I truly believed that I was going to pay out on the accelerated schedule bonus I’d promised the general contractor.
Most of the rooms of the house looked basically finished, except for minor things like the blinds, or the light fixtures or door hardware. It wouldn’t take us long to actually pack and move our stuff, so realistically if we had the full week before Christmas we could be settled in for our first holiday in the new home.
Ned spotted us when we emerged to the main parking lot.
“Emmy and her three friends were here earlier- you just missed ‘em by maybe fifteen minutes,” he said. “Since the recording studio is finished, they brought their, I don’t know, sound guy maybe, to plan their equipment install. I think they plan on having the studio up and running in the next two weeks or so.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“Emmy’s been dying to start work in their new studio,” Angela confirmed. “She told me that it’s turned out better than she could have imagined.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Ned said with a smile. “Hey, did you guys get a look at the sound stage yet?” he asked, indicating we should follow him. We went in the smaller man door instead of the giant bay doors, which were closed for once.
All the lumber, boxes of plumbing fixtures, stacks of solar panels and the like had been cleared out, leaving a single, cavernous space. The walls and ceilings had been painted flat black, and the floors had been surfaced with that black, slightly rubbery finish they used for traction. Electricians were up in the catwalks installing lights, but otherwise the place was empty. For the first time I had the sense of how large twenty thousand square feet really was, and how whole movies could be filmed in a space like that.
“Wow,” Angela breathed, looking around. “It’s so huge!”
“That’s what she said,” Ned joked, getting a laugh from both Angela and me.
“Ned, you’ve performed a miracle here,” I said. “And it looks like I’m going to have to write you that big, fat bonus check after all.”
“Good thing, too,” Ned said. “My wife has already mentally spent that money. She wants to buy a place in Maui,” he said, rolling his eyes.
“There are worse ways to spend it,” I said.
“I’m just not that big a fan of Hawaii,” Ned confessed. “Now, if she wanted a place in Park City, or maybe Tahoe, well…”
“I’ve never been to any of those places,” Angela said.
“I like mountains more than I like tropical beaches,” Ned said, explaining.
“Where I grew up, we had both,” Angela said. “We lived about a mile from the beach, but six thousand meter tall mountains are only a few hours’ drive away.”
“Where is that?”
“Cartagena, in Colombia,” Angela said. “Right on the Carribbean.”
“So tropical beaches are no big deal for you, then,” Ned said.
“I like the beach, but…” Angela said with a shrug.
“I get it,” Ned agreed. “Anyway,” he said, changing the subject. “The last contractor should be out of here by the sixteenth. You guys can have the moving vans in here that weekend.”
“That is awesome,” I said. “You’ve done a hell of a job, Ned. One hell of a job.”
“Don’t forget to mention that to any of your friends that might need a house built or remodeled,” Ned said. “I could always use good word-of-mouth.”
When Angela and I got back to the condo, we found Grace and Rosalie relaxing out on the balcony. Evidently they’d found the alcohol and were well and truly buzzed from my expensive vodka and some grapefruit juice they found in the fridge.
“Yer home!” Grace said, waving. “C’mere and have a drink! We’re celebratin’!”
“What are you celebrating?” Angela asked.
“J.F.C.!” Grace exclaimed, looking Angela up and down. “Well, now we’re celebrating how hot you look!” she said, lifting her glass in a salute.
“Grace!” Rosalie exclaimed, shoving Grace’s shoulder.
“Rosie,” Grace said. “Just look at her. She’s like a model or something.”
“She is a model,” I said, stepping out onto the balcony. “We were just talking about an upcoming photo shoot in the car.”
Grace really had nothing to say to that, so she just blinked a couple of times and then took another drink.
Grace looked at Angela again, then at me. She started to say something, but stopped before she got a word out. Finally, she said, “You guys are fucking, right? I mean, the three of you?”
“Grace!” Rosie said, turning beet red. “I can’t believe you said that!”
I sighed and sat down on the couch, taking a sip from the bottle of water I’d grabbed from the fridge when we got home.
“Grace,” I said. “I know your manners are better than that.”
“But look at her! She’s like, my age! And hotter than anybody has any right to be!”
“First off, Angela is actually older than either Emmy or me, and second, that’s no excuse for being so rude,” I said, my voice level.
“Well, you guys are, right?” Grace demanded.
“We are lovers, yes,” I admitted. “The three of us.”
“I hope you know what you’re getting into,” Grace said to Angela.
“I think I do,” Angela said, staying polite and friendly.
“You know about Emmy’s, um, people?”
“Yes, I do,” Angela replied.
“And do you know about Leah?” Grace demanded.
“Grace,” I cautioned. “Think twice about what you’re about to say, and who you’re about to say it in front of.”
Grace looked at Rosalie, paused a moment, then turned back to Angela. “Ask Leah about Vancouver,” she said. “That’s all I’m sayin’.”
“Grace,” I said. “I think it’s time you stopped talking. And yes, I’ve told Angela about Vancouver.”
Grace finally caught the tone of my voice and realized that she was on very thin ice. “Sorry,” she mumbled. She got up somewhat unsteadily and went inside, presumably to find a toilet to puke into.
“Well, um, that was awkward,” Rosalie said, looking at me, Angela, and where Grace had vanished.
“I don’t know how much Grace has told you about growing up with Emmy and me,” I said. “It was mostly good, but there were some bad moments, too. Like any family, I guess. She still has some issues with her parents, and sometimes she acts out a little bit, um, inappropriately sometimes. She’s a good kid, though, despite all she’s been through,” I said.
“I’m gonna go see if she’s O.K.,” Rosalie said, getting to her feet, even more wobbly than Grace had been.
“If you guys barf, make sure you clean it up,” I said as she went inside.
After Rosalie disappeared from sight, Angela turned to me. “Vancouver? Like, Vancouver, Canada?”
“Yeah,” I sighed. “It was one of those time we met serious resistance from the local Night Child kingpin.”
“What happened?”
“Grace got kidnapped, and I had to rescue her. Some people got killed in the proceedings,” I said.
“You definitely didn’t tell me about that,” Angela said, starting to sound a bit upset.
“Well, no, I didn’t go into details, but I did tell you we’d had a couple of incidents where we had to resort to violence. This was one of those times.”
“What was another? And how many people died?” Angela demanded.
“Six people died in Vancouver,” I said. “One of ours, five of theirs, including the guy who was the root of all the problems. The one that kidnapped Grace. The other major incident was when we went to Chicago. You know that meeting that Emmy and I went to, and came back late?”
“Are you serious?”
“We killed eight bad guys that night. We went to the meeting expecting trouble, and it turned out to be an ambush. We were prepared, though, and although we had a couple of minor injuries, we came out O.K.”
“And the others? The bad guys?” Angela asked.
“We wiped them out. All eight of them.”
Angela leaned back in her chair, taking a deep breath and then letting it out. “You did say that… Well, that you have had to become violent.”
Grace emerged from the condo out onto the balcony, Rosalie nowhere in sight.
“Yeah, she got violent,” Grace confirmed. “I saw her kill three guys with her bare hands, right in front of me.”
“Grace, where’s Rosalie?” I asked. “You know better than to ever talk about these things with her around.”
“Yeah, I know,” Grace said, looking apologetic. “Rosie’s hugging the porcelain god right now. You know, I’ve never talked about what happened in Vancouver to anybody, you know that, right?”
“I’m glad to hear it,” I said. “Please keep it that way.”
“You know I love you, right, Leah? You saved my life twice, you know that? The first time when my parents kicked me out. I might have ended up on the streets, you know? The second time was in that warehouse, when you came in and just fucking bulldozed those assholes like they weren’t even…” Grace said, before suddenly bolting back into the house as fast as her wobbly legs would carry her.
“You killed three men with your bare hands?” Angela asked, stunned.
“No, I didn’t. She doesn’t remember it right. I killed one guy with my bare hands, and another with my dagger. No third guy.”
“Your dagger?” Angela asked. “Like, a knife?”
“Yeah, Old Stabby,” I said. “C’mon to the bedroom. I’ll show it to you.”
In the bedroom, with the door closed and locked, I reached into the bottom of my pants drawer and pulled the sheathed dagger out for Angela to see.
“I’m telling you all this because I want to be totally honest. I hate secrets. I’ve already told you that I have, um, a history of violence, and here is its ultimate expression,” I said, handing her the blade.
Angela pulled it from the sheath, looking at it in wonder. “You’ve- you’ve killed people with this?” she asked. “I mean, you, personally?”
“I’ve killed, um, six people with that knife?” I said, unsure of the exact number.
“With this knife?” Angela said, checking the needle-like tip.
“Yeah, and a couple more with other knives,” I admitted. I fished around in the clothes and pulled out Prince Marfan’s old dagger. “This is the knife I used the first time I killed anybody.”
“The first time you killed anybody?” Angela asked, aghast. “When was that?”
"I was about Grace’s age at the time. Just eighteen years old. Two guys grabbed Emmy and beat her up. One of them had this knife. I kicked him super hard, he dropped the knife. I grabbed it and-” I said, making an upward stabbing motion to illustrate.
“Leah, how many people have you killed? I mean, you, yourself.”
I took a few moments, counting on my fingers, but I wasn’t too sure I had the number right.
“Eight or nine, I think,” I admitted.
Angela stood there, holding Old Stabby, just looking at me for a moment. Finally she said, “Thank you for being honest with me.” With that, she handed the dagger back to me, then went and sat down on the bed.
“Put those away,” she instructed, and when I did so, she patted the bed beside her. “I can’t say that I find this very… comforting,” she said when I sat down. “But I also don’t find it too surprising. Now I see that you have been trying to hint to me that you have… well, like you said, a history of violence. But to me, you’re gentle, and kind, and loving. To Emmy, too. She thinks the sun rises and sets with you. She’s told me that you make her feel safe and protected, and I thought I understood. But now, I understand better.”
“If it’s too much for you-” I started to say, but Angela put her finger on my lips to shush me.
“You’ve told me you do these things to help people. You saved Grace’s life, she said. I don’t think you’re an evil person, Leah. This doesn’t make me love you less. Emmy knows all this, right? But she loves you more than the sun and the moon. I trust her judgement. I trust my own heart, too, and it says that I love you.”
“I was afraid to tell you all this, for two reasons,” I said. “I didn’t know how you would take it, sure, but also, if you didn’t know, you were in a lot less legal risk. Now you know, if I ever get arrested, you could be held as an accomplice, and I don’t want that.”
“Don’t get arrested,” Angela said with a shrug.