Emmy had said that the boys would be over for lunch, and since that meant I was going to be on my own until two or so, I went back to the Irish pub for some more Mexican food. Hey, this is LA, right? The place was pretty full, so I sat at an empty seat at the bar again.
“We have to stop meeting like this,” said the guy next to me as I looked over the menu. I glanced up and saw it was the same guy from last time, the one who’d asked about the Cajun pasta. Amusingly, he was eating the fish tacos I’d suggested he try.
“So what do you think of the Irish fish tacos?” I asked.
“Eh, I’ve had better, but they do remind me of the ones my abuela used to make back in Ciudad Killarney when I was a kid, so that’s good,” he said with a completely straight face.
“Comfort foods are comfortable,” I said, nodding.
“Absolutely,” the guy agreed.
The bartender took my order of chicken skewers with peanut sauce and poured me a glass of iced tea.
“You work around here?” the guy asked, but I got the impression he was simply being friendly and not trying to chat me up.
“What gives you that impression?” I asked.
“Office clothes,” he said, glancing at the suit I was wearing. “But really, really nice office clothes, so you can’t just be a secretary or something. I’m guessing something financial.”
“Close enough,” I said, leaving it at that.
Undeterred, the guy said, “Hey, my name’s Henry. I’m in real estate,” he said, holding out his hand to shake.
I shook his hand and said, “Leah. I’m in real estate, too, in a sense.”
“Huh. Small world,” Henry replied, but didn’t pursue the issue any farther.
As we ate our lunches in companionable silence I realized that I really didn’t mind the guy’s banter. It didn’t seem as if he was trying to hit on me, or make some sort of business connection, or anything like that. He just seemed to be an affable sort, and I was O.K. with that.
My lunch was interrupted by my phone buzzing in my pocket. I took it out to see who was calling and whether I could ignore it or not. Unfortunately, this wasn’t a call I could simply let fall on voice mail.
“Hey, Michael,” I said, answering the call.
“Leah, I have tickets for this afternoon for Eddie and myself to fly to Seattle. They were expensive, since it is short notice. Do I have your authority to spend the money to rent a car and stay in a hotel?”
“Of course you do!” I replied. “You know I’ve never quibbled about things like that. Spend whatever you need to, and keep me updated. I’m going to be in San Jose tomorrow and the day after, but if I have to come up to Seattle to kick some ass I’ll do it.”
“Hopefully I can resolve the matter without dragging you up there,” Michael said. “But it’s good to know that you’ll assert your authority if called for.”
“That’s me,” I said, sardonically. “Always ready to punch peoples’ faces in.”
Laughing, Michael said, “And sometimes that is how peace is maintained- with a bit of judicious violence.”
“Well, personally, I’d be happier not having to beat anybody up this time,” I said with a laugh of my own. “But you know how it goes.”
“I will let you know when I have taken stock of the situation in Seattle,” Michael said.
“Hey, where’s Jassie going to be while you’re dealing with this?” I asked.
“She will be staying at a friend’s house for a few days,” Michael said. “The two girls are inseparable these days, so it is nothing out of the ordinary for her to stay over there for a long weekend.”
“That’s great,” I said. “Tell her I said hello, and hope you guys can come down to LA before school starts.”
“I’ll do that,” Michael said.
Henry was just finishing up his lunch as I hung up. He gave me a questioning look. “HR issues?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said with a sigh. “I’m sending my troubleshooter, but I might have to get directly involved.”
“By punching somebody’s face in?”
“Well, sometimes performance reviews get ugly, you know?” I said with a shrug.
“Real estate can be a tough business,” agreed Henry as he handed the bartender his credit card to pay his bill.
“Yes, it can,” I said with a sigh.
After Henry left, I sat there for a while longer, eating slowly as I caught up on my Saturday morning crew’s text message group chat. It was mostly just idle chatter about what new color Stein’s McLaren should be, who gets to lead this week, and so on. The only thing directed at me was Teddy Bear saying that he would definitely make it to my birthday track day, and asking for specifics. I shot off a text with the details of when to be there and what was required. “Lunch and refreshments will be provided,” I added.
Almost immediately Jimmy responded with, “Adult beverages?”
“Not for the drivers”, I sent back, “Until after the track closes for the day.”
“I make a mean margarita” Stephen posted. “I’ll bring enough for everybody. What’s the head count?”
Thinking about it, I replied, “8 drivers, at least two SOs, I don’t know how many mechanics and so on”.
“Let’s call it 20-25, then. No problem”, Stephen texted.
“I’m bringing my sister”, Jimmy texted.
“Dude, she’s not old enough to drink”, Stephen shot back.
“Doesn’t stop her”, Jimmy replied.
“I DO NOT want to see your sister drunk”, Stein posted.
“I do”, Teddy Bear sent back immediately. “That would be funny AF”.
Chuckling, I pocketed my phone and ignored the continued buzzing as they all texted back and forth like teenagers.
I figured I had an hour to kill before I needed to be home, so I just popped in to the office to grab my stuff, then went to go look at the third site Nash had identified as a potential for our new offices. It was over on Sepulveda, so more or less on the way home anyhow. I drove by the site, then circled the block to see how it stacked up from other angles. Nash had been right- it was almost perfect- but maybe too small in the long term. Plenty big enough for right now, but I could see that in a few years it might start to feel cramped as the businesses consolidated under one roof, especially if we wanted to think about bringing the heavy construction in-house.
Scratching option number three off my mental list, I headed home. Jackson and Lee were still there at the apartment, and the three of them were busy discussing what would be needed for the recording studio, making up lists of gear and so on.
I gave Emmy a hello kiss, then changed out of my office clothes and into some jeans and one of my favorite shirts- a black “Alice’s Restaurant” T that was a size too big.
Since they were still working, I got out my laptop and did the same for a couple more hours. Market analysis is dry as hell, but I understood very well that staying ahead of trends is how I’d done so well with the REIT, so I plowed through it. In a very real sense it was my bread and butter and had earned a lot of money the last few years.
I’d gotten myself so buried in it, in fact, that I didn’t hear when the boys left and was startled when Emmy put her hands on my shoulders and gave me a kiss.
“That looks really boring,” she said, peering at the computer screen.
“It kinda is,” I agreed. “But it’s also like a puzzle. It turns out I’m pretty good at solving this kind of puzzle, too.”
“I have a puzzle for you. I will give you two hints.”
“Two? Isn’t three hints more traditional?” I asked, leaning my head back for another kiss.
“Perhaps so, but I think you will only need two. Perhaps not even two,” Emmy replied.
“O.K., what’s the puzzle?”
“What shall we do for tonight’s date night?” Emmy asked. “The hints are: I want to go out and do something fun, and I want there to be music.”
“Hmmm… That’s a tough one,” I said, rubbing my chin. “Are you sure I can’t get another hint?”
“No. Only two hints,” Emmy said, her voice firm.
“All right, let’s see… We could look to see who’s playing around town tonight if you want to see live music, or we could go out to a club for some dancing. We haven’t done that in a long time,” I suggested.
“No, we have not,” agreed Emmy. “I would like that- but you have to promise you will dance with me. I know you think you are not a good dancer, but I do not care. I want you to dance with me anyway.”
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
“O.K., O.K., I’ll dance,” I said, putting my hands up in surrender. “But I don’t know anything about the local club scene, so you get to pick out where we go. And also, I have to be on my flight to San Jose at eight tomorrow morning, so we can’t stay out until four or something like that.”
“Can we stay out until two?” Emmy asked, hopefully.
“Yeah, but we’ve got to get a ride. I’m not driving.”
“Bien sûr,” Emmy said, before rushing off to do her research.
While Emmy looked online for dance clubs, I went back to my maps and graphs. Eventually, Emmy came back with her news.
“I have made reservations for us at eleven tonight, so we should have dinner no later than nine. That way we can dance and not feel heavy,” she announced.
“Any thoughts on what you want to do for dinner?” I asked.
“The restaurant downstairs,” Emmy said. “After we eat, we can relax here for a little while before we go out.”
“Sounds as if you have it all figured out,” I said, amused.
“Yes, I do,” Emmy said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Except for what you will wear.”
“That is a really big problem,” I agreed. “I don’t really have any club wear.”
“Then we must go shopping. Right now,” Emmy said with finality, making it clear I wasn’t getting out of this one.
Soon enough we were in the car, and Emmy was giving me directions on where to go. We wound up in Beverly Hills, at, of course, Rodeo Drive. It was exactly as I’d pictured it- an unending row of designer-brand boutiques.
Emmy was in heaven, but she knew that there would be only so much I could tolerate before calling it quits, so she led us straight away to one shop in particular. It was, from what I could tell, an independent and not affiliated directly with YSL, Chanel, Anne Klein or Ralph Lauren (all of which had their own flagship stores there on the Drive).
Emmy knew exactly what she wanted for me, and after a brief conversation with the sales lady, had a few outfits for me to try on.
Now, I’m a lot taller than most women, so normal sizing doesn’t really work for me. A mini dress that would look cute on someone with the same sideways dimensions as me would put the hem line right around my hips. Emmy and the sales lady had come up with a strategy to deal with that problem- a two-piece combo that bared my midriff, allowing a lot of my belly to show. The top was mostly just a sexy night out version of a sports bra, as far as I could tell. Emmy wanted it to show off my back and shoulders, and it sure did that. She also wanted to show off my long legs and was torn between leggings and a skirt that I thought wandered too far into the ‘Hey, sailor, want a good time?’ territory, but whatever she wanted to buy me, I was just going to grin and bear it.
Thankfully, the low-cut leggings won out, and I have to say that I did kinda like the way the wet-look shiny blue outfit made me look. It was sexy in an athletic sort of way, and did highlight my legs, shoulders and, importantly, my abs. Finally, Emmy and the sales lady selected a ridiculous little jacket that had arms that were too short, a length that was too short, and didn’t even meet in front.
“That is the way it is supposed to look,” Emmy had admonished when I’d complained that it came nowhere near fitting me. “And yes, it does fit across your shoulders, and that is how we know it is the right size.”
The jacket seemed like a joke to me, but looking at the entire ensemble in the mirror, I had to admit that with the jacket, the outfit went from ‘maybe too sexy gymwear’ to ‘I’m gonna dance all night long’.
For herself, Emmy selected an open-backed little black dress, but in white. The short skirt but long sleeves and generous boob window somehow managed to look racy, but still a bit classy. She paired the dress with a pair of white heels in a height that would have broken my ankles instantly, but I knew she was perfectly capable of dancing in for hours.
I’d tried on a couple of pairs of block heels, but Emmy just wasn’t having it.
“Nooo!” she exclaimed. “Those will not do!”
“Em,” I protested. “I’m just not used to those stilettos you wear!”
Of course, Emmy won that discussion, and eventually I went with a nice pair of black pumps with a more sensible heel. Two and a half inches was more than I was used to, but not so crazy as what Emmy had opted for herself.
Eventually we were back in our street clothes, all our purchases stowed away in a couple of gold and black shopping bags.
As we exited the store, Emmy asked, “Do you mind if we stop in one more store? It will not take as long,” Emmy promised.
“Sure. We have time,” I said.
Emmy took my hand and led me a block down to the Cartier jewelry store. "I have wanted to buy you something for a very long time,” Emmy said as we entered.
“I’m not really a jewelry person,” I objected.
“No, you are not, but I have something in mind that you should find acceptable.”
A middle-aged, impeccably dressed lady came up to ask us if she could help us, casting a dubious eye on my jeans and T shirt.
“I would like to see your necklaces, in yellow gold, please,” Emmy said to the woman.
I caught the woman glancing at my watch and noticed her attitude shift. Really, here in Los Angeles plenty of filthy rich people dress really casually, so signifiers like watches that cost more than a typical Mercedes carry outsized importance.
“Right this way, ladies,” she said, ushering us to a side room. Emmy was not bothered in any way by the stunning amount of wealth on display in the store, so I followed her lead and did my best to act as if this was all ‘same old, same old’.
Emmy quickly selected a simple gold chain with two rings resembling interlocked wedding bands for the pendant. “This is exactly what I wanted for you,” Emmy said as I tried it on. “It is simple, elegant, and the gold color is perfect for your complexion.”
The sales lady made some approving noises and Emmy said, “We will take it. I would like another matching necklace in white gold for myself as well.”
With that, no more than ten minutes had passed, and a quick five grand changed hands.
“I have wanted to find you the right necklace for a very long time, Leah,” Emmy said as we walked back to the car. “I hope that you will wear it and think of me.”
Bringing her knuckles up to my lips, I said, “I think of you all the time, babe. All the time.”
“You are sweet,” Emmy said, stopping to turn and give me a little kiss right there on the sidewalk in front of the Ralph Lauren store. I pulled her into my arms and gave her a much bigger kiss in return.
Of course, Emmy kissed me back, and soon enough some random passerby jokingly said, “Get a room, you two!” causing us to pull apart, laughing.
Dinner at the Japanese restaurant in our apartment complex was nice and casual, but somehow Emmy managed to keep the mood flirty and fun in a low-key sort of way, making it feel more like a date than just the two of us being too lazy to cook at home.
When it was time to go, Emmy and I went down to the lobby in our party outfits. I felt a little silly dressed like that in our apartment tower, but nobody batted an eye. I’d expected an Uber when we walked out into the front entry, but it was a limousine waiting for us instead, adding to the party feel.
“You do know it’s only a Wednesday night, right?” I asked as we climbed inside the Mercedes. “Wednesdays aren’t really known to be high profile type of nights.”
“This is a rare treat for me,” Emmy said. “I plan on enjoying it.”
“Fair enough,” I admitted. “It’s been a while since we’ve gone out like this.”
“Far too long,” Emmy agreed.
My guess is that the club Emmy had picked got its fair share of limo arrivals, just not on Wednesday nights. The bouncer recognized Emmy right away and beckoned us in immediately, skipping the line to get in.
The hostess also knew who Emmy was, and led us up to the balcony level to the VIP area, past another bouncer. Glancing out over the dance floor, I noticed that there were a couple of women wearing very, very little on raised platforms, dancing to the music. Even more surprising, there were a couple of male go-go dancers, too, strutting their stuff on a raised deck above the bar. Their stuff was pretty clearly on display, since they weren’t wearing any much more than the girls were.
The music up there on the balcony level wasn’t so loud you couldn’t hold a conversation, but it was loud enough to make talking a really close-up affair. The area that was reserved for us had three curved couches around a low table, making me even more grateful that Emmy hadn’t picked that mini skirt for me after all. It took me a moment to recognize Lee and Jen were already there, and so was Jackson with some girl I’d never seen before. They all had drinks already, and the cocktail waitress was right there to ask what Emmy and I wanted. I opted for an Old Fashioned, but Emmy ordered two bottles of champagne.
“You must have some champagne, Leah!” Emmy said. “It is right for a party like this!”
“You look hot,” Jen said when I sat down. “Real hot.”
“Thanks!” I replied. “Have you guys been here long?”
“No, maybe ten minutes,” she said. “We just got our drinks.”
I noticed that Emmy hadn’t sat down, but was leaning on the balcony railing, looking down at the dance floor. Her butt was sticking out in a very, very appealing way in that white dress of hers, lit up as it was by the club’s black lights.
“Emmy looks hot as fuck,” Jen commented, seeing where my eyes were parked.
“Yeah, but she always does,” I answered, not taking my eyes off my stunning wife. I got up to go stand next to Emmy, putting my hand on the exposed skin of the small of her back. I briefly considered cupping her ass, as much to give a show to Jen and to stake my claim as anything, but I resisted.
“After we have our drinks, we must go down and dance,” Emmy said, looking at the bodies moving below us. The crowd on the floor wasn’t dense, but it was early on a weeknight, so that’s no surprise. I’ve never really been much of a fan of EDM, really only knowing what I’d heard with Emmy, but the DJ was doing a good job of keeping the beat going and the energy high, so I was feeling it, even though it wasn’t really my thing.
Emmy’s champagne and my drink were waiting for us when we returned to the table, but Jen and Lee were gone- presumably to dance.
Emmy poured four glasses and those of us still at the table toasted to a good night out. I’ll be the first to admit I know zero about champagne, but Emmy does, and she seemed pleased with the stuff they’d brought us, so I figured it was probably expensive.
I drank the champagne fairly quickly, then switched to the cocktail. I figured it’d help to have a bit of drink on before making a fool of myself on the dance floor, and Emmy seemed content for the moment to chat with Jackson’s date.
Emmy finally finished her glass just as I’d taken my last sip of mine, so, seeing her opportunity, she grabbed my hand and we were off to the dance floor. I wasn’t so buzzed that the stairs presented any challenge, but I was careful, because the heels I had on presented a very real hazard. Dancing wasn’t going to be pretty, I thought, as I stepped carefully.
Emmy pulled us right into the middle of the floor, too. I hoped nobody would see my clumsy moves, surrounded as we were by so many people dancing. It took me a few minutes to find my groove, and I sure wasn’t doing anything flashy, but Emmy made up for it. She was like some sort of liquid in human form, moving so gracefully I couldn’t even understand how it was possible. After a while I stopped thinking about it so much and just let my body do what it felt like, making everything better. Emmy had drawn a fair number of admiring glances as well as outright stares, but I was O.K. with that. After all, it was me that was taking her home.
Eventually, Emmy suggested we head back to the table, and I was very willing to acquiesce. Following her up the stairs, I purposefully lagged a step or two so I could watch her amazing bubble butt in that little, tight white dress as she climbed the steps. Hey, I will admit to no shame at all. I was staring. At my own wife, whom I’d seen naked pretty much every day for almost four years. Staring, and maybe even drooling a little bit. Damn, Emmy was hot. How did I ever get so lucky?
Jen and Lee weren’t at the table, and when I asked Jackson about it, he said, “I think they went to find someplace to have sex.”
“There’s a place like that here?” I asked him, grabbing Emmy’s hand. “Where? We gotta go right now.”
Jackson just laughed in that way of his and said, “Hold your horses, cowgirl. You’ll have all night once we’re outta this place.”
“Spoilsport,” I said, sticking out my lower lip in an exaggerated pout.
The rest of the night was more dancing, drinking, and copping feels and just generally enjoying ourselves. After a while, though, Emmy and I had to leave, even though the other four were going to stay longer.
“Leah has to go to San Jose tomorrow,” Emmy explained. “Today. In a few hours,” she corrected herself, realizing what time it was. “She needs some sleep.”
“Not gonna lie,” I said. “Sleep is not what’s on my agenda right now.”
“Go get ‘em, Tiger,” Jackson said, laughing as we stood up to leave.
As much as I’d had to drink, I was a bit concerned every time we went up and down those stairs, but we had no mishaps of any kind. The twisted ankle I’d been dreading just didn’t ever happen. Emmy had maybe even had more to drink than me, but she was always so effortlessly graceful that I was never in doubt of her abilities to manage, even with those ridiculously high heels of hers.
The ride back to our apartment building was unmemorable except for the pawing and the giggling and the feel of soft, warm skin under my hands. Back in our apartment, I kicked off those miserable pumps and scooped Emmy into my arms to carry her to the bedroom. I set her down on her feet, hooked my fingers under the hem of her dress and peeled it up and off her in one movement. Laughing, Emmy let herself fall back on the bed while I struggled my way out of that top, and then shimmied out of the skin-tight leggings. Finally naked, I strode over to the bed, only to find… Emmy asleep already.
Sighing, I carefully lifted her up so I could tuck her under the covers, then turned off the lights and crawled into bed beside her, making sure my alarm was set.