Once we got back to the apartment, we discovered that there was no CD player in the entire place. We could play the CDs in the TV’s DVD player, but there was no actual stereo in the apartment at all. An obvious oversight in a furnished place, but I guess most renters wouldn’t necessarily want one, anyhow. The look of dismay on Emmy’s face was both perfectly adorable and perfectly heartbreaking at the same time.

“Would you mind if we went to the store and bought one of those portable CD players?” Emmy asked, looking hopeful.

“You know what? We’ll need a decent stereo in our new house, anyway. Let’s go ahead and buy something worthwhile. There’s no point in even considering a portable.”

“But we do not know where it would go,” Emmy protested.

“It’ll go in the living room. We’ll just have to make sure that we get a nice piece of furniture for the rack, and some good-looking speakers that go along with the decor. But you know, a record player in the living room would fit right in with the Mid Century theme, anyway,” I said.

“We must make certain that the components look good, if they are to be displayed…” Emmy said, thinking about it.

Next thing you know, we found ourselves in an audiophile Hi-Fi shop on the eastern edge of downtown, looking at systems for many, many thousands of dollars, to play a few hundred dollars’ worth of CDs. That’s actually not fair- Emmy had a large collection of CDs, far more than just the handful she’d bought earlier that day. We would obviously need to get some sort of nice storage rack for the CDs, too, but that would be a job for the interior designer to handle.

Emmy seemed taken by the idea of sticking with a brand she knew, so we wound up shelling out nearly fifty thousand dollars on the top of the line Yamaha stereo system in a nice brushed aluminum finish. We arranged for a tech from the store to install the system on the following Tuesday, which was the soonest appointment we could get.

A bit disappointed at the lack of instant gratification, Emmy was a bit downcast again when we climbed back into the car, so I suggested something that I thought might cheer her up.

“Hey, babe, want to do something uniquely Los Angeles?” I asked, checking my watch to make sure we’d have time.

“I believe that I said that I did this morning, did I not?” Asked Emmy, perking up enough for a snarky answer.

“All right, I have an idea. I’ve never done this before either, so it’ll be a fist time for both of us. I can’t promise it’ll be amazing, but several people have recommended this,” I said, trying to tantalize Emmy even more.

“What is it?” She asked, curious.

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” I said, as I plugged the destination into the GPS app on my phone.

Soon we were exiting the freeway, then through city streets and finally into a road that wound upwards through a canyon into the Hollywood Hills well east of our new house. Emmy had no idea where we were headed until we rounded the last turn and the Griffith Observatory came into view.

“Oh! It is beautiful!” Emmy gasped. “I have seen this place in movies!”

“Yep,” I agreed. “The Griffith Observatory shows up in almost every movie ever set in Los Angeles. I’ve been told by more than one person that it’s the best place in town to watch the sun set.”

I’d been warned that parking at the top of the road was limited, but we got lucky and scored a spot in the upper lot.

“This is so… so very lovely,” Emmy said as we walked hand in hand towards the iconic building.

I squeezed her hand and told Emmy that it paled in comparison to her beauty or something cheesy like that, earning myself a long, sweet kiss in return.

We walked the grounds, gradually making our way to the west side terrace as the sun neared the horizon.

“Look!” Emmy said, pointing to the flagstones of the terrace. “They have the solstice and equinox sunsets marked!”

Sure enough, there were bronze lines embedded in the floor, pointing to where the sun would set on those days. We’d missed the solstice by almost two months, so that night’s sunset didn’t line up, but was spectacular anyway. Of course, to the west the sky was lit up in all shades of pink, orange and red, but to the south, the low rays of the sun lit up the towers of Downtown in brilliant gold tones.

Emmy leaned back against me, my arms wrapped around her as we stood there, enjoying the amazing views, along with each others’ company.

“Leah,” Emmy breathed as the colors stated to fade away. “Have I ever told you that I love you?”

“Yes, babe, I think you might have, once or twice,” I said, giving her a gentle squeeze.

“I do not think that I tell you often enough,” Leah said.

“Well?” I asked.

“I love you, Leah. I love you very, very much.”

“That’s good to hear,” I replied. “Because I love you more than I could ever express.”

Turning around in my arms to face me, Emmy stood on her tiptoes to give me a kiss. We stayed like that, just standing there and kissing, for maybe twenty minutes before turning to go back to the car.

“Leah, I want to tell you something I am not supposed to tell you,” Emmy said as we walked arm in arm.

“You’re not supposed to tell me?” I asked, curious.

“No, I am not. It is to be a surprise, but I want to tell you so very badly,” Emmy said, pouting like a little girl.

“A surprise?” I said, surprised.

“Yes, for your birthday next month. My parents have gotten you something very, very special, and I want to tell you so much it is killing me.”

“Your folks got me a birthday present?” I asked, even more surprised.

“Yes, and I think that it is something you will enjoy very much. It was difficult for my father to arrange this for you, but he used his…” Emmy trailed off, searching for the right word. “His leverage to get this for you. There are not very many of them, and demand is high.”

“Well, O.K., you have me really curious now,” I said. “But my birthday is only a little over three weeks away. Can you wait that long to tell me?”

“I am not sure that I can,” said Emmy, pouting again. “And it may be that you would need to know before then, anyway. You will probably wish to invite some of your friends.”

“I wasn’t planning on having a birthday party,” I said as I opened the car door for Emmy, then shut it when she was safely inside.

“This would not be a typical birthday party, Leah, and I am convinced that you would have a better time with some of your friends in attendance than you would by yourself,” Emmy said as we made our way back down the hill. “And three weeks might be the amount of time needed to arrange for them to be there.”

“O.K., you have me totally stumped. What friends would I invite that would take three weeks notice?”

“If I tell you it will ruin some of the surprise,” Emmy admitted. “So I do not know what to do. Keep the secret and maybe you will not have as enjoyable a time, or tell you and ruin the surprise, but have you enjoy it more.”

“How about if you tell me, but don’t tell your parents you did?” I asked.

“I do not like to lie to them,” Emmy objected.

“Don’t lie, just don’t mention it at all. I’ll act surprised and they’ll never know, right?”

“I am not sure…” Emmy said, looking out the window.

Later that night, after our evening soapy time, Emmy announced that she’d come to a decision.

“I will tell you,” Emmy said. “I do not think my parents will be able to attend, so I do not think I will be compelled to lie to them. When you speak to them, you can tell them you enjoyed the surprise, but I would have to tell you at least the day before, in any case, so it would not be a total surprise even if I did not tell you now.”

“Well, O.K.,” I said, enjoying watching Emmy lotion up after drying off.

“My parents have arranged a private track day at Willow Springs Raceway for your birthday, and my father is flying in experts from Europe to tune your car and coach you to improve your skills,” Emmy said. I could tell she was enjoying my eyes on her, as she was giving me a bit of a show. “In fact, the driving instructor is a retired Formula One driver who will work with you all day.”

“Oh, wow,” I said, stunned. “I can understand what you meant about inviting friends. I’ll need to arrange for The Track Club guys to bring my car down, too.”

“That has been arranged,” Emmy said, sauntering over to the bed, where I sat propped up, watching her. “Everything has been arranged. All you need to do is to be ready to drive.”

“I can do that,” I said, lifting aside the covers so Emmy could join me.

The next morning I was feeling good about life, and felt extra invigorated for my workout. I’d developed a simple routine there at the building’s gym, based mostly on the fact that there was nowhere nearby that had good running roads, and the gym itself had no kickboxing facilities at all. First thing, I’d run on the treadmill for an hour for warmup, then do weights or plyometrics on alternating days. I thought of it as a sort of holding pattern until we got settled in to our permanent home, at which time I’d figure out running routes and find a good fight gym nearby. In other words, good enough for now.

I’d just come off the treadmill when a middle-aged guy I’d seen a few times approached me. I generally tried to give off ‘don’t bother me, I’m busy’ vibes that kept most people away, but this guy was determined to talk to me.

“Hey,” he said. “Look, I know this may seem creepy,” he added, and he was totally correct. “But I’ve seen you work out almost every time I come in here early. You look like you’re in pretty good shape.”

“Thanks,” I said, still trying to give this guy a tacit ‘go away’ message.

“So, I guess what I’m leading up to, is that I’m a producer, and I could probably get you on TV, or maybe some film work.”

“Thanks, but not interested,” I said.

“With your looks, and the shape you’re in, you could get big in a hurry, with the right help. That scar you got- it even adds a little something, you know?” the guy said, persisting.

“How much money are we talking?” I asked after I’d wiped my face and turned to face him square on.

“Well, I’ve heard that Israeli chick is making over a quarter of a million dollars for the Wonder Woman movie coming out next year,” he said.

“A quarter of a million, huh?” I asked, just for clarification.

“Yeah, but she has bad representation. She coulda held out for four hundred grand, between you and me.”

“How long does it take to film a movie like that? I asked.

“Probably five, maybe six months with reshoots,” the guy guessed.

“So, doing the math, she made about forty thousand dollars a month,” I said. “Or, in more here and now terms, slightly more than I’m paying in rent for my apartment on the seventeenth floor here in this building.”

“You’re paying rent?” He asked, surprised.

“Yeah, just until my house in the Hollywood Hills gets finished,” I said. “Unfortunately, I’m having a lot of work done on my brownstone in Manhattan right now, too, so I had to find a place to stay in the meanwhile.”

He gave me a long look, then said, “So you’re saying that you have plenty of money.”

“I just gave a hundred and fifty million bucks to start a foundation to help refugees. I wrote a check,” I said, looking him straight in the eyes. “To start the foundation.”

“In other words, I’m barking up the wrong tree,” the guy said with a shrug.

“Yes, you are,” I agreed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a workout to finish.”

“Yeah, sure, sorry for bothering you,” the guy said, taking it fairly gracefully.

The rest of my workout went uninterrupted, but my good mood from last night had been lost. In some ways, I shouldn’t have been so irritated. He did, after all, offer the possibility of Hollywood stardom to me, which would appeal to most young women in Los Angeles. It was the thinly veiled hint that he’d expect a little bit of special gratitude that really put me off. I may have been reading the situation wrong, I’ll admit, but that was how it had seemed. I really hoped that he hadn't been successful getting other girls onto his casting couch, and with his tone-deaf approach he might not have, but I’d bet he had.

After I finished racking my weights, the really gorgeous girl I’d seen working out a few times approached. Now that I got a better look at her, I could see how amazing she actually was. Her face reminded me of Jennifer Connolly in her younger days, and her body was straight out of a fitness magazine cover.

“Did that man offer you an acting job?” she asked with a soft Spanish accent.

“Yeah, he tried,” I said. “I told him to buzz off.”

“Good,” she replied. “Stay away from him. He is not a good man.”

“I got the impression he’s a sleaze,” I agreed.

“He did not know who you are? He did not recognize you?” she asked.

“Do you?” I asked, surprised.

“You are married to that singer, Emmy, right? I have seen you with her.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“I am a big fan of hers,” the girl said. “Please tell her that I love her music.”

“What’s your name, so I can tell her?”

“Angela,” came the response.

“Angela, do you live in this building? Maybe you could come up to our place for lunch some time. Emmy always loves to meet her fans.”

“Yes, we live on the fourth floor,” Angela said. “I would love to meet Emmy- that would be amazing!”

We exchanged phone numbers and I told her that I’d talk to Emmy about having her and her husband up for dinner sometime soon.

“We are not married yet,” Angela corrected me.

“You and your boyfriend, then,” I said.

Emmy was up and sitting at the kitchen counter with a cup of coffee when I got back up to the apartment.

“Hey, babe,” I said, giving her a kiss. “I met a fan of yours in the gym this morning.”

“Yes?” Emmy asked.

“Her name is Angela. I told her that I’d talk to you about having her and her boyfriend here for dinner sometime soon.”

“Did she seem nice?” Emmy asked.

“Yeah, she did,” I agreed.

“Then we should invite them over soon,” Emmy said, then went back to whatever it was she was looking at on her iPad.

“Well, O.K. then,” I agreed, as I headed off to the shower, somewhat bemused by Emmy’s distracted nonchalance.

Once I got done with the various emails I had to deal with to start my work day at the office, I shot off a group text to the Saturday morning crew.

“How hot is it in Rosamond in mid September?” I asked the group. “Because I’m doing a track day at Willow Springs for my birthday.”

Jimmy responded almost immediately. “Hot, but not world on fire hot. But there aren’t any track days scheduled for then.”

I let that go unanswered while I shot James up in Palo Alto an email. “Hey, bro. Want to come down this way for a track day at the road course at Willow Springs?”

After sending that, then responding to a couple of work emails that popped up, I checked my texts again.

Stein and Stephen had both responded by asking what organization was putting on the track day, so I let the cat out of the bag.

“Private track for the day. My in-laws have rented out the track for my birthday present. You guys in?”

“Awwwwww damn!!!!!!” Jimmy replied almost before I’d even sent my text. “Oh hell yesssss!!!!”

“Private track? All day? Count me in,” Stephen sent.

Teddy Bear replied with, “I might be back in town by then, if shooting wraps on schedule. If so, count me in.”

Stein simply posted, “In”, nothing more.

Just as I was writing my next text for the group chat, a text came in from Michael, sent to both Emmy and myself. “Eddie and Elias have finally found the mystery Night Children in Austin. The four of them say they are uninterested in coming under your shadows, but appreciate the positive image of Emmy that they have seen. They had decided on their own that if Emmy can show her true face, so can they, so they have benefitted even without any direct help.”

“Give them your contact info, and let them know that if they need anything they can reach out to us, and our offer stands as always,” I sent back.

Sitting back in my chair, I reflected a moment on what this meant. This was huge- really huge, and I needed to talk to Emmy about it, so I shut my office door and called her.

When she answered, I asked if she’d seen Michael’s text.

“No, I have been practicing,” she said.

I explained what Michael had said, then added my own analysis.

“Em, this is it. Seriously, this is what you’ve been working so hard for these last few years.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, but I was pretty sure she knew exactly what I was talking about.

“If these Night Children in Texas have seen you on TV and recognized that your visibility means their freedom from fear, well, they can’t be the only ones, right? Even though these guys aren’t under our shadow, they’re already living proof that our whole plan is working.”

“You are right. This is momentous,” agreed Emmy. “I must call my parents and tell them.”

“That’s a good idea,” I agreed. “I love you, babe. Let me know how your call with your folks goes.”

After hanging up, I sat there for a few moments, just thinking about the ramifications. Realizing that I needed more details, I called Michael.

He answered the phone on the first ring. “Yes, my queen?”

“Seriously, I thought we were over that,” I grumped.

“We were, but this seems a special occasion,” Michael countered.

“It seriously is,” I agreed. “This is a really big deal.”

Michael and I talked for almost an hour, at first about the Austin Strays, then about other Stray business, then finally about Jassie, and how she missed Emmy and me.

“I think that when she leaves for college, I will move to Los Angeles, to be closer to you and Emmy,” Michael said.

“Where is she planning on going to school?”

“She doesn’t know yet. She thinks she wants to study veterinary medicine, which means that she needs to get a Bachelor’s in biology from a decent school, but…”

“You don’t think it’s a good idea?”

“It’s a good idea, of course it is, but I just don’t think she’s really motivated enough for it. She has three more years before she needs to apply for college, so she’s got plenty of time to change her mind,” Michael said.

“That’s true enough,” I agreed.

After getting off the phone with Michael, I had a few more work emails before I could allow myself to read James’ reply.

“Open track? Private? That’s awesome!” his email said. “I’ll be there. Imogen has been talking about wanting to see the Getty, so we’ll make a mini vacation out of it. I’ll have the Track Club guys bring my car down.”

“It’ll be great to see you guys,” I replied. “Emmy and I haven’t had a chance to see the Getty yet, either, so maybe we can make it a double-date.”

Checking my texts one last time before buckling down to work, I saw that the Saturday crew had sent nearly three dozen texts back and forth while I was paying attention to other things.

“Here’s the deal,” I posted in the conversation. “My in-laws are treating me to a really nice birthday present. Not only are they renting the track for the day, they’re bringing in a European race crew to set up my car just right, and a retired driver to coach me for the day. Because, yes, my in-laws are that awesome.”

This prompted a flurry of texts, wanting to know more details.

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” I teased.