Up early the next morning for my run, I did the same thing as the day before- I drove to campus and ran the old, familiar trails. My second day in a row of running on campus dispelled the strange sensation of disconnectedness I’d had the day before, and everything felt normal and familiar once again. As I ran, I felt myself relax and slip into a meditative state, allowing my mind to wander while my feet did their thing.
Yesterday had been a good day, I realized. Yes, I had been lonely without Emmy, and I missed Angela, too, which was a little bit of a shock. But I’d gotten a lot of work done at the office, and spending some time at the speakeasy reinforced my image, and that was important to the success of the place. A few days every now and then away from Los Angeles were important for my work, and simply part of the job. It would have been nice to have had somebody to come home to at the end of the day, though…
The only thing on my schedule for the day was a lunch meeting with a client, so I was free to spend the next handful of hours however I wanted. After the meeting, I was free until Monday morning, too, so I had plenty of time on my hands.
Back at the condo, I set some soft music going and settled into a couple of hours’ worth of yoga. I was going to build on the relaxing run and just bend and stretch myself until I was at one with the universe, or at least nice and tension-free.
The lunch meeting went well, and the client committed to having us run all of his rental units- eleven hundred of them throughout the South and East Bay. We had been managing two of his complexes, and he had seen that our level of care and professionalism was markedly better than the other two management companies he was working with, so had decided to roll it all our way. Of course, this meant a greater workload for our property managers, but that was O.K. It just meant a little more growth, which wasn’t a bad thing at all.
Driving back to the condo from the hot pot restaurant, I passed through a stretch of car dealerships. Idly eyeballing the BMW dealer as I inched my way through a surprisingly congested intersection, a baby blue M3 parked out in front caught my eye. On impulse, I pulled into the lot. ‘Heck,’ I thought. ‘Emmy did say I should do something for myself.’
It didn’t take long for a saleswoman to spot me looking at the car, and she hustled out to ask if she could help me.
I stood up from reading the window sticker and said, “This car? I’ll take it.”
She started talking about financing options or lease programs and I stopped her cold. “No, I’ll pay cash. Let’s go in and get the paperwork done.”
“I’ll have our guy look at your car and give you a trade-in appraisal,” she said, trying to be helpful.
“It’s a rental,” I said. “No trade-in.” This seemed to really put the saleswoman off her game, which honestly, surprised me. You’d think in Silicon Valley there must be plenty of buyers with deep enough pockets to be able to simply point and say, “I’ll buy it.”
We sat down at a table and she produced papers for financing again, and I said, “No. All I need to know is the out the door price- that’s it.”
She made some noise about her manager needing to approve and blah blah blah, so I said, “Well, let’s talk to your manager. I’m ready to buy this car right here, right now.” I finally got through to her (and her manager) that I didn’t want any song and dance about payments, no extra charge for underbody sealant, nothing. I just wanted the car, and I wanted to pay for it with a simple wire transfer.
We finally got it sorted out and I called my banker, authorizing the ninety-two grand to the dealership. I told the manager I had to go return the rental car, but expected the new baby blue M3 to be ready for me by the time I got back.
Shaking my head at how difficult the sales team had tried to make the process, I drove back to the airport and dropped that woeful Malibu back with the rental company. A short cab ride later and I was behind the wheel of my shiny new M3 in what I learned was called “Yas Marina Blue.” Inspired to just get out and enjoy my new toy, I made a quick stop at the condo to change out of my business clothes and into something more suitable for a drive.
It didn’t take me very long to get used to the new ride, and soon enough I was comfortable throwing it sideways into turns in the Santa Cruz mountains.
Of course, I stopped at a couple of spots with stellar views and took pictures, sending them to Emmy and Angela.
“I love the color!” was Angela’s response, and Emmy expressed her relief that I had done something nice for myself.
“I am glad you have something to enjoy there in San Jose,” she’d texted.
Another dinner at the club and a late night of mingling with the clientele awaited me, and after an afternoon of letting loose on the public roadways was just the thing to get me in the mood.
Of course, this time I pulled right up to the valet stand, and when I handed the key fob to the same valet as the night before he exclaimed, “Nice car! I like your Aston Martin better, but this is pretty sweet! When did you get it?”
I made a point of looking at my wrist. “About five hours ago,” I said with a smirk.
“Seriously? That’s awesome!” he said as he climbed in to park my new sedan.
The same young woman was at the podium when I made my way into the restaurant.
“Ms Farmer!” she squeaked. “I’m sorry about last night- Is there any way I can make it up to you?”
She was clearly terrified she might lose her job if she pissed me off, so I said, “Don’t worry about it. You didn’t know,” which seemed to help calm her down just a touch. “I think I’ll take my dinner out here, in the restaurant tonight.”
“Um,” she said, looking at her seating chart. “Let me see where I can seat you…”
She was saved once again by the timely appearance of the maitre d’, who swooped in and grabbed a menu and wine list and directed me to follow.
Waiting for the busboy to finish cleaning the table, I glanced around to see how the steakhouse was doing on a Saturday night, pleased to see the place was completely full.
A second look at one of the booths a bit farther down confirmed I'd seen correctly- Ashley was sitting there, facing towards me. Opposite her in the booth were a man and a woman, but I could only see the backs of their heads.
“I’ll just be a moment,” I said to Henry, then walked over to say hello.
“Ash,” I said in greeting as I arrived at the booth.
“Leah! Holy sh- Wow! What are you doing here?” she said, completely surprised.
“I was about to have dinner,” I replied.
Realizing she was being rude, Ashley said, “Mom, Dad, this is Leah Farmer. I told you about her, remember? She was the one who convinced me to take self-defense classes.” Turning to me, she said, “These are my mom, Becky, and my dad, Rob. They came out to visit, and to see my new apartment.”
“Becky, Rob,” I said, shaking their hands. “Is this your first time in the area?”
“No, we came out for orientation when Ash was a freshman,” Becky said, her Virginia accent remarkably strong.
“A little over a year ago,” her husband Rob added. He had no real discernible accent, to my surprise.
“How was your summer?” I asked Ash.
“It was good, but a summer in New York would have been better,” she replied with a saucy little smirk. After a moment I remembered that she’d said she wanted to be my sex toy all summer long in New York when she was under the impression I was married to Margot Robbie.
“New York is nice,” I agreed.
“Are you here by yourself?” Ashley asked, craning her head to look to see if Emmy were with me.
“I’m just in town for a few days for business,” I explained. “By myself.”
“I hate to be the one to ask,” Becky said, “but why are you dressed like a Chicago gangster?”
“That’s the business I’m in,” I said giving her a knowing look, which got a laugh in return.
“Actually, seriously, it is, sort of,” I said. “If you folks don’t have any plans for after dinner, how about I treat you to some drinks, and I’ll explain?” I said, stepping aside to let the waitress set down their plates.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
“If you were gonna have dinner by yourself, why don’t you sit down with us?” Becky suggested, and Ashley, looking hopeful, slid over to make room.
“Henry? I’ll sit with these fine folks,” I said, and he nodded and took off. To the waitress, I said, “My usual, please.”
I slid into the booth, setting my fedora on the little ledge at the back of the booth. This meant leaning across Ashley, and she took the opportunity to grope my boob for an instant when my jacket fell open and hid her hand from her parents. I acted as if nothing had happened, not even giving Ashley the benefit of a glare.
“You must come here a lot,” Rob commented when I’d sat back down. “If you can tell the waitress to bring you your usual.”
“I eat here most nights when I’m in town,” I agreed.
“I’d ask what you recommend, but it’s too late- we’ve already got our dinners,” he said, pointing to their plates.
“Don’t wait for me,” I said. “I don’t want your steaks to get cold.”
Just then the waitress returned with my virgin Old Fashioned, saying, “Your filet will be out in another minute or so.” To the rest, she asked, "Is there anything I can get you?”
“Now that’s service!” said Becky after the waitress left.
True to her word, the waitress brought my steak out in just a few moments, and soon I was eating and chatting along with Ashley’s parents. Rob told me he worked for the federal government in a mid-level bureaucrat job, and Becky worked for the county in the Recorder’s office.
“We met through work,” Becky said, giving her husband’s hand a pat.
“Are you married?” she asked.
“Three years now,” I said, holding up my hand to show of my wedding ring.
“Newlyweds still,” Becky said. “Don’t let anybody tell you all the magic goes out after you’ve been married for a while, hon. Why, me and Rob here, we still go at it like rabbits every chance we get.”
“Mom!” protested Ashley, her face turning red.
“Oh, Ash, you’ll understand when you find that special someone,” Becky said, which only served to make Ashley blush even more.
“Don’t worry, Ash. I know that you didn’t find anybody last year, but maybe this year will be different,” I said, piling on.
“I thought maybe I did last year,” she grumbled.
“What was that, dear?” Becky asked.
“Mom, I told you I wasn’t in any hurry to find myself a boyfriend at college,” Ashley replied.
Conversation turned away from Ashley’s love life, to her great relief, eventually coming around to what I did for a living.
“I am a legitimate businesswoman,” I announced in my best Godfather accent, getting a laugh from Ashley’s father. This kicked off a discussion about classic gangster movies, discovering that the genre was a favorite of Rob’s. His knowledge was far, far greater than mine, but it was still a fun topic for the two of us, even though I could tell Ashley and her mom were getting bored.
Once dinner was finished, I asked if the three of them would like to join me for drinks.
“I’m underage, remember?” Ashley protested.
“Not a problem,” I said. “See this?” I asked, holding up my tumbler with the remains of my drink in it. “Non alcoholic.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” she whined, reminding me that she was still pretty young.
“What do you think, Rob?” Becky asked.
“We don’t have to get up early, and we're both still on East Coast time,” he mused. “If Leah knows a good place, and Ashley can get in, I say it sounds good to me.”
“Excellent,” I said, and as I reached across for my hat, Ashley cupped my boob in her hand a little longer this time. Again, I pretended not to notice.
I stood up and gestured. "If you folks will come with me?”
“We haven’t paid yet!” Becky protested.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “It’s on my tab.”
“That’s really nice of you,” Rob said, pleased to save a couple of hundred bucks on dinner.
The three followed me towards the back of the restaurant, puzzled looks on their faces. At the unmarked door, I rapped twice, and the doorman opened it.
“Boss!” he said with a pleased smile. “And some guests?”
“Yep, they’re with me,” I confirmed.
“Welcome, ladies, sir,” he said, ushering them in to the dimly lit hallway.
They followed me back, then across the floor of the speakeasy and to the back corner table, which was, in fact, the only empty table in the place.
Gawking in amazement, the three sat down, still trying to take the whole place in.
Jeremiah came to the table with drink and tapas menus, and Ashley and her parents stared at him, too. With his perfectly crisp white pinstripe shirt and dark trousers and suspenders, he looked straight from the Prohibition era, except that he was among the darkest of all of our Night Children. His skin was pure black, his short, slicked-back wavy hair was black, and his pupils were very nearly black, too. It made his brilliant white teeth and the whites of his eyes stand out that much more.
“Welcome, folks,” he said to the three, setting the menus in front of them. Turning to me, he asked, “Would you like your usual?”
“Tell Theo to set me up with something special tonight,” I said. “At least, for my first.”
Nodding, Jeremiah left to go give my order to Theo. The other two bartenders were good, don’t get me wrong, but Theo was the artist of the bunch.
“This is amazing,” Ashley finally managed to say.
“I’ve only ever seen places like this in movies,” agreed Rob, still looking around.
“If I’m not mistaken, the bouncer called you ‘Boss’,” Becky said. “Do you really own this place?”
“And now you understand why I’m dressed this way,” I said with a smile.
“It’s funny,” Rob mused, looking at the drinks list. “I’ve seen so many movies set in places like this, and I never imagined I’d get a chance to actually experience it.”
“If you look at the top section of the drinks menu,” I said, pointing. “You’ll see they’re all classics from the time of Prohibition. I like the Old Fashioned, but the Boulevardier is good, too. For you, Becky, I’d recommend a Mary Pickford or maybe the Singapore Sling.”
“What about for me?” Ashley demanded.
I looked at her parents and asked, “Are you O.K. with Ash having alcohol?”
“She can drink here?” Rob asked.
“She can, if her parents are here with her in a private setting, and they’re the ones to furnish it to her,” I replied. “Which means you have to order it for her and hand it to her. Jeremiah can’t take the order from her, or hand her the glass.”
“I guess I can see that as a reasonable loophole,” Rob mused.
“It only works because this is a private club,” I said. “It follows somewhat different rules than an ordinary bar.”
“Well, dang,” Becky said. “I sure wish we had places like this when I was her age.”
“I sure wish we had places like this at my age, too,” Rob said, still soaking in the ambiance.
Jeremiah came back and set my drink down in front of me. It was a vivid ruby red thing in a tall cocktail glass, garnished with a lemon twist.
“That looks good,” Becky said. “What is it?”
“No idea,” I said with a shrug. “The bartender likes to use me as a guinea pig for new recipes.”
“I’ll have the Sidecar,” Rob said to Jeremiah.
“Two Singapore Slings for me,” Becky said.
Jeremiah looked at Ashley, who just shrugged, so he left with the orders.
A moment later, a couple of tech bros in zoot suits came over to the side of the table.
“Leah!” the guy on the left said, holding out his knuckles for a fist bump. “Thanks for getting me on the list!”
“You earned it, my man,” I said, desperately trying to remember his name. I knew he worked at Apple in the AI field, but his name eluded me. “Not just anybody gets on the list.”
“I know it,” he said, pleased as hell with himself. “Hey, this is my man Rafa. It’s his first time here.”
“Pleased to meet you, Rafa,” I said. “You guys having a good time tonight?”
“This place is amazing!” said Rafa, drawing out the middle syllable.
The moment the two left, Jeremiah set the three drinks on the table.
“Those two guys? Another round of whatever they’re drinking, on me.” I said.
Sipping his drink, Rob said, “You really do play up the mob boss thing.”
Shrugging, I said, “Everybody loves it.”
“I love it,” Ash said. “It helps that you’re totally believable. I mean, an Italian guy would be a caricature, right? But you, in that suit, which looks like it was made for you-”
“It was,” I interrupted.
“And that scar, and your whole, I don’t know…”
“She’s right, you know,” Becky said. “I could totally imagine you running a vast, criminal organization. No offense.”
Chuckling, I said, “None taken.”
“So, besides owning a restaurant and private club, what does the rest of your vast criminal organization look like?” Rob asked.
“Mostly real estate investments,” I said. “It’s not as fun as the hospitality division, but a whole lot more profitable.”
“Division?”
“Yeah, my company owns a handful of restaurants, bars, nightclubs and even a couple of boutique hotels up and down the West Coast.”
“This is really good,” Ashley said, holding up her drink. It was an obvious ploy to steer the conversation away from boring topics, but Rob and I both let it work.
“It is good,” Becky said. “This is one of those drinks that you hear people order in movies, but I’ve never actually seen it on a drinks list before.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” I said.
Changing the subject, I asked, “When do you two go back to Virginia?”
“We fly out of San Francisco at eleven tomorrow morning,” Rob said.
“Hmm… Did you rent a car?”
“Yes, from Avis.”
“Alright. Plan on a forty-five minute drive from Palo Alto, and add another twenty-five or so to drop off the car and get to the terminal,” I said, thinking about it. “Sunday mornings aren’t bad, but I’d still get there an hour early. Just to be on the safe side, I’d be out the door by nine, maybe nine fifteen at the latest.”
“That’s good to know,” Rob said. “I guess that means we should probably call it an early night, then.”
"It's a shame you'll miss the entertainment," I said, indicating the singer and guitarist setting up on the small stage. I'd been impressed the night before, and was pleased to see them again.
“Um, would you guys mind if I stayed?” Ashley asked. “Leah can give me a ride back to my apartment, or I can take an Uber,” she added. “I’d kinda like to hang out longer and listen to the music, if it’s alright.”
Her parents looked at each other, an unspoken conversation passing between them.
“Alright, honey, if that’s what you want,” Becky said. “We’ll come by and take you out to breakfast before we go in the morning. See you at seven thirty?”
The moment the two were gone, Ashley scooted closer to me in the booth.
“You never called!” she hissed, keeping her voice low. “But now, here you fuckin’ are, all gorgeous, and sexy as hell in that gangster outfit, impressin’ the shit outta my parents!”
“It’s not my fault that you guys just happened to be having dinner in my restaurant when I came in,” I protested.
“No, maybe not, but it is your fault I’ve been havin’ to smash my legs together so hard I’m gonna get bruises!”
“Not gonna lie,” I said, “But that was the funniest thing I have ever heard you say.”
“The truest, too,” she grumbled.
“I was thinking about you yesterday,” I said, trying to change the subject.
“I think about you a lot,” Ashley replied. “Unfortunately, they're always my own fingers.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at that, even at the risk of encouraging her. Thankfully, I was spared from further ‘stimulating’ conversation by James Atherton and another guy I didn’t know walking up to the table.
“Hey, Leah,” James said. “I didn’t know you were in town.”
“I thought about calling you, but I was only going to be here for a few days, and didn’t have my own car,” I replied.
“Leah’s the one I was telling you about,” James said to his friend. “The one who totally destroyed Justin down at Willow Springs, in a family car.”
“Oh, yeah, I remember that,” the guy said, his face lighting up at the memory. “He just wouldn’t shut up about how she almost ran him off the track!”
“Bummer you don’t have a car here,” James said. “Maybe you could drive my Cayenne?”
“Well, I actually do have a car, now,” I said. “I bought myself a little toy this afternoon.”
“Oh? Do tell!”
“Oh, it’s another family sedan,” I said casually.
“Ten o’clock at the usual spot?” James asked.
“You’d better be there,” I replied, and the two left to go back to their own table.
“You bought a new car today? Like your other one, that, um, Jaguar?” Ashley asked, excited.
“Aston Martin,” I corrected. “No, the new one is a family sedan, like I said.”
“I’m calling shenanigans,” Ashley said. “No way did you buy, like, a Chevy Malibu or something.”