I wasn’t the first one to our Saturday meeting spot the next morning. Jimmy (without his sister, thankfully) and Stein were already waiting when I arrived. Overnight my eye had swollen pretty good, and started to turn all kinds of interesting colors, but I wasn’t going to skip driving just because I’d gotten punched in the face.

“Hey, Liz- Damn!” Jimmy said as I stepped out of my car. “Have a rough night?”

“Well, I had to work late, but other than that, no. Why?” I asked.

“Your- no, wait. Nevermind.”

Stein said, “Jimmy, you know the first rule of fight club.”

“Don’t talk about fight club. Yeah, I got it,” Jimmy said, rolling his eyes.

I was happy to see the two play it off like that, and when Stephen and Geoff showed up, Jimmy and Stein acted as if there was nothing wrong with my face at all. Geoff didn’t ask about my black eye, but Stephen seemed as if he was going to, but then kept quiet.

We hit the usual Malibu Hills roads with Geoff leading out in his Carrera 4. It was a good morning of driving, but I begged out of having lunch with the guys, explaining that I needed to meet my builder.

“For your fifty thousand square foot house in the Hollywood Hills?” Geoff asked.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” I said, refusing to rise to his bait. "We have a meeting at one with the architect to go over some details.”

“Hey, are we driving next Saturday?" Stephen asked. “Since we’ll all be at the track on Sunday, I mean.”

“Yeah, I’ll be driving, since I’ve got to miss Leah’s private track day,” Geoff said.

“Not me,” Jimmy replied. “I’ll be getting some new shoes for my baby.”

“That’s actually a really good idea,” Stephen said. "Where do you get it done?”

I took the opportunity to leave while the three were busy talking about where to get your tires changed without having your expensive rims scratched. I wanted to be at the house early, so I could do a walk-through before the builder and the architect arrived.

I wasn’t all that concerned with the studio side of the project, figuring that was Emmy’s gig, but I wanted to think about how the house would flow, now that I’d had time to consider the preliminary plans that Emilio had drawn up. His concept of the house almost being secret, with the studio and working spaces being all you’d see from the ‘motor court’ and the living spaces hidden behind, seemed interesting and all, but I just wasn’t sure that it wouldn't make life a bit more of a pain than it might otherwise be.

I was just standing in the middle of the motor court, looking at the overall structure, when the rumble of a big V-8 interrupted my thoughts. A brand new blue Mustang rolled through the gate I’d left open, and Andy leaned out the driver’s window to ask where he should park.

Shrugging my shoulders, I said, “Anywhere.”

He pulled his car next my Aston, while I eyeballed his ride. “That’s the Shelby version, right? It has the track package?”

“Uh, yeah, it does,” Andy said, giving me a quizzical look. “Um, hey, Leah, I don’t know if you realized, but, like, your mascara is smeared all over,” he said, circling his eye with his finger.

Laughing, I said, “I took a good hit sparring yesterday,” and shrugged in a ‘what can you do?’ sort of way.

“Jenna mentioned that Emmy told her you did kickboxing,” Andy said.

“Yeah, it’s a great workout. As a bonus, you get to hit people,” I said with a laugh. “So, let me explain what the architect has in mind for the remodel while I give you a tour,” I said, indicating he should follow me.

We walked through the house and I explained how it was going to be divided up, keeping most of the square footage for the sound stage and recording studio use.

Standing in the large room at the top of what I’d started thinking of in my mind as the ‘air traffic control tower’, I said, “And this is going to be my home office.”

“Man, this is gonna rock for an office,” Andy said, admiring the full three hundred and sixty degree views out of the windows all the way around. “And home office- seriously, this is big enough to have at least a dozen desks in here.”

While we were looking out the window and discussing where the pool would go, two more cars pulled into the parking lot.

Seeing the drivers get out, I said, “Come on. The guys I need to meet with just got here.”

“Leah, uh, I’m not sure if it’s cool to ask, but how much is all this costing?” Andy asked as we made our way to the front of the building to meet Ned and Josh.

“All in? Preliminary budgets say nine million bucks, including purchase price, but I’ll bet it comes in closer to eleven million by the time we get the studio side of things done.”

“And you’re just writing checks for it, no loans or anything?”

“Andy,” I said, stopping and turning to him. “If you’re fishing for info on how much money we have, let me be completely honest. Emmy’s parents gave her a hundred million Euros when she went to Stanford. That’s a lot of freaking money, but Emmy had no desire to do anything with it, really. It was just sitting there in an account yielding seven per cent interest when I first saw it. I took half, leaving the other half untouched. I invested in a couple of smallish companies, buying them from the guys that had built them up. One is a property management with offices in San Jose and here in LA, and the other is a real estate development company, also based in San Jose. I bought the first because of reasons too long to go into right now, and the second because it overlaps with the first.”

As we continued walking, I said, “Both of these companies were well poised and well staffed, but just needed more capital to really take off, and that’s what I brought in. Since then, in the last few years both have done extremely well, and that initial sixty-five million bucks is now almost two hundred million. I also started a real estate investment trust with another chunk of the initial fund, and that’s done spectacularly well, and is valued at almost seven hundred million now, but a lot of that isn’t our money, but from outside investors.”

Thinking about what I’d just said, Andy said, “So Emmy had the money, but you’re the one that’s making the bank with it. Is that right?”

“Yeah, that’s about the speed of it,” I agreed.

“And now you’ve got way, way more than Emmy’s parents gave her.”

“You know what? I’ve made so much money, that we’re going to give that initial hundred million Euros back, in a sense. We’re going to start a non-profit in Europe with that money.”

“That’s pretty cool, actually,” Andy said as we walked out onto the parking lot.

The walk-through went well, and Josh pencilled in a few changes based on suggestions from me, and from Ned as well. I got a much better feel for how the two parts of the structure (the house and the studio) would interlock but not really interface all that much. My concern that the house would feel spread out and disjointed was still sort of there, because it sort of would be, but really not much worse than a lot of large houses on difficult multilevel lots. Yes, it was quite a hike from the wet bar at one end and down in the basement to my home office, clear at the other end and on the fourth floor, but really, how often would I actually make that trip?

The changes were all minor, and Josh promised that he’d get them in to the city first thing Monday morning for approval. He also wanted to schedule a meeting with Emmy and her bandmates to discuss what they wanted to have done in the studio part, and said he’d bring in an outside specialist for that phase of the architecture.

Once Josh had left, Ned and I discussed scheduling and he said there were things he could get started on before the permits were issued, so I gave him the go-ahead to get going ASAP.

Watching Ned’s truck leave, Andy said, “I gotta say, Leah, it’s obvious you’ve done this before.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, construction, development, this kind of thing. I mean, maybe you’ve never converted an old movie studio into a home before, but construction is construction, right? You had answers when those guys had questions, and the questions you asked all made it clear that this isn’t your first rodeo,” Andy said. “I want to be you when I grow up.”

Laughing, I gave him a two-handed shove on the shoulder. “You big goof!” I said. “And speaking of big, you really bulked up since senior year. How big are you now, anyway?”

“I’m listed at 251 right now,” Andy said. “I was 209 at the end of the season at Fallbrook. But, damn, I’m not the only one. You’re just a whole lot, well, bigger than high school, too. I mean, you were always tall, but I think you're taller now, and way more filled-in.”

“Yeah, four years of serious strength training will do that to a girl,” I agreed.

“I couldn’t help but notice the size of the room you’ve got for your home gym,” Andy said. “It seems like you’re planning on staying in shape.”

“I don’t think I could quit now if I had to,” I admitted. “If I go more than a few days without working out I just feel, well, blah, you know?”

“Yeah, I understand. I’m pretty much the same way. Hey, on a totally different note, your birthday has to be coming up soon. Are you going to have a party?” Andy asked.

“Sort of,” I said. "Emmy’s parents have rented out a race track and are bringing in a race driver to coach me for a day. A bunch of my driving buddies are going to come out and we’re just gonna spend the day doing laps.”

“At Fontana?” Andy asked.

“Fontana? You mean the NASCAR track? No way, José. Willow Springs, a road race track.”

“That sounds pretty cool,” Andy admitted.

“You ought to come out. That Mustang of yours would be a lot of fun,” I said, pointing at his new car.

“What day?”

“Next Sunday,” I said.

“Aw, damn,” Andy said. “No way can do. We have our season opener in Phoenix. It’s Monday night, but Sunday is our travel day.”

“Well, that sucks,” I said. “Wait- is that your first regular-season game in the NFL?”

“Yeah, and I get to start- isn’t that awesome?” Andy asked, his chest swelling with pride.

“Let me see if I can get tickets. Maybe Emmy and I could come out to watch?” I suggested.

"I wish I had some to give you guys, but I already handed out my allocation,” Andy said, apologetically.

“Let me see what I can scare up,” I said.

“It’s gonna cost,” Andy warned. “The game is sold out.”

“Hey, if the problem can be solved with money, is it even a real problem?” I asked, shrugging.

“Not if you have money, I guess!” Andy said and held up his hand for a high-five.

“What’s the use of having money, if you don’t use it, right?” I asked after slapping his palm.

“Um, well, if I don’t see you next week, happy birthday, Leah,” Andy said, holding his arms out awkwardly for a hug, which I gladly returned. “You know, it seems kinda weird to say it like this,” he said when we parted. “But I was thinking about it after dinner the other night. You know, um, you’re my oldest friend. Not oldest in the sense of being old, I mean, but outside of my family, you’re the person I’ve known the longest,” he said, fumbling for the right words. “And it really makes me feel, I dunno, proud, I guess, that you’re doing so good. I mean it. I’m really glad to see it.”

I gave him another hug, to show him that I understood where he was coming from. “Thanks. That really actually means a lot,” I said, and it absolutely did.

When we separated, I said, “Now that you say it, you might be my oldest friend, too.”

After Andy had driven off, I walked around the outside of the building and looked at the lower parking lot, where Ned was going to build my garage. I had had no place of my own to store the GT-R, so I’d always just left it with the Track Club guys, but that wasn’t really going to continue to work now that I lived in Southern California. I was going to have to buy a toy hauler, and a truck, too, but at least there was plenty of space for all that, even if towing a full-sized trailer on those narrow, winding Hollywood Hills streets was going to be no fun at all…

Emmy wasn’t home when I got back to the apartment, so I fixed myself some lunch and got out the laptop to do some work. My mind wasn’t really on work, though, and soon enough I found myself looking for local shops like the Track Club, places that could maintain my car, and support me trackside. I found a few and made myself a list to stop by and check them out. Most looked like street tuning shops, but at least a couple of them had actual race cars in their photo galleries.

Satisfied with that, I then looked for seats for the Rams vs Cardinals game, and found two right on the bottom row, closest to the field smack-dab on the fifty-yard line. Impulsively, I went head and bought the tickets, figuring that if Emmy couldn’t or didn’t want to go, reselling them should be easy enough, even if they were running nearly eight hundred bucks each.

I almost sent Andy a text telling him I’d gotten seats, but then thought better of it. What if Emmy said no?

My two distractions done, I went back to reading the report that I’d found so dull earlier. It was still dull, but I knew I needed to get through it at some point, so might as well do it right then.

By the time Emmy came home a few hours later I’d worked through my backlog of reading, responded to all the emails that needed responses, and generally felt good about being caught up with work. In fact, I was back to searching the internet for info on toy haulers and the trucks needed to tow them. I had fallen down a rabbit hole of bigger and bigger and more and more amazing rigs, many far too large for the lower lot at the new place. I found myself fantasizing about driving one of the full-sized semi-truck setups through Hollywood’s narrow hillside roads, and how hilarifying that would be, when Emmy walked in the door, carrying take-out bags from the Japanese restaurant downstairs.

“I hope you do not mind,” she said, setting the bags down on the kitchen counter. “For some reason I wanted yakisoba tonight.”

“No, that’s fine,” I said. “I didn’t have anything in mind as far as dinner goes, anyway.”

Emmy, done taking out the take-out, looked up at me and saw my black eye. “Oh, Leah! Your eye! It looks so painful!”

“Naw,” I replied. “It doesn’t really hurt anymore.”

“I am sorry you got in that fight,” Emmy said. “I wish that had not happened.”

“Yeah, me, too, but mostly because of the fallout, you know? I hated that it was necessary to kick Katharine’s ass, but it had to be done. We don’t need anybody like that in our shadow.”

“Sometimes I am truly sorry that I ever got you involved in my peoples’ issues, Leah. Other times, though, I am glad that I did, since you have become such an amazing figure among the Night Children. Did you know that they know of you over in Europe? My mother told me that she has heard about you from several of their subjects in France and Spain.”

“Really?” I asked, surprised. “What could they possibly know about me all the way over there?”

“My mother tells me that you are very highly thought of, and that it is very rare for a Night Child without the blessing to rise to become queen, but you have done so through your strength of spirit and will,” Emmy said.

“You’re making this up,” I said, rolling my eyes. “And what does that mean, ‘without the blessing’?”

“It means they believe that you are a Night Child, but one who has not received the blessing of the night. Like Edouard, my cousin.”

“Edouard is your cousin? Your mom’s bodyguard? That Edouard?” I asked, surprised again.

“Yes, he is the son of my father’s brother and a daywalker woman.”

“Well, I guess that would make him your cousin, all right,” I admitted. “That would explain some things. So, Michael had told me a while back that a lot of the Strays think my dad was a Night Child, and he didn’t bother correcting them, since it helped bolster my legitimacy. I guess word has spread.”

“Yes, I had heard that rumor as well,” Emmy agreed.

“And you also didn’t tell anybody it wasn’t true, did you?” I asked.

“No, I did not,” Emmy said. At least she had the grace to look sheepish about it, though.

“I guess it’s no harm, no foul,” I said with a shrug. “I don’t think Katharine believed it, though. She said that I wasn’t ‘one of us’ when she got really angry.”

“Many Night Children feel that way about the non-blessed. Even if the lineage is obvious, and the only difference between a non-blessed and a true Night Child is that one has one Night Child parent and one daywalker parent, but the other has one daywalker parent and one Night Child.”

“That didn’t make any sense, but I think I understood what you meant anyway, babe,” I said, wrapping my arms around my beautiful true Night Child wife. “Well, if it makes life easier, I say let them keep believing I’m a non-blessed. Why not?”

Emmy snuggled up into my chest, murmuring, “I missed this.”

“Missed what?”

“You holding me,” she replied. “It has been days. Far too long.”

“Yeah, I guess it has,” I said, leaning my cheek down against the top of her head. “The only hugs I’ve gotten since Wednesday were from Andy Temple.”

“What?” Emmy asked. “You have been hugging Andy?”

I told her about how Andy had wanted to see the new house, and how we’d talked about oldest friends and all that.

“I am very glad that you two have reconnected,” Emmy said, her face still buried against my chest. “That is something special.”

“Yeah, I am, too,” I agreed. “Oh, and speaking of Andy, do you have any plans for next Monday night?”

“Not the day after tomorrow, but eight days from now Monday?” Emmy asked, for clarification.

“Yeah, the day after the track day.”

“No, I do not,” Emmy said. “Have Imogen and James said they would stay here with us? If so, maybe we would all go out to dinner.”

“Oh, I’d forgotten about them maybe staying here,” I said with a groan.

“You do not want them to stay here?” Emmy asked, surprised.

“No, I do, it’s just that I made other plans for the two of us for Monday, but if James and Imogen are here, maybe I have to cancel.”

“You should talk to James and see what their plans are,” Emmy urged. “What are these other plans?”

“I got us tickets to see Andy’s first regular-season game as a pro.”

“American football?” Emmy asked, surprised.

“Yep,” I confirmed. “I got us great seats, too.”

“At the… the Coliseum, no?”

“No, it’s an away game. It’s gonna be in Phoenix,” I said. “Monday night football. I figure we fly in for the game, and come back home the same night.”

“But I have never been to Phoenix,” Emmy objected. “It would be nice to do some sight-seeing.”

“One,” I said, holding up a finger, “it’ll be hotter than the surface of the sun in Phoenix this time of year, and two,” I added, holding up another finger, “There really isn’t anything to see there, anyway.”

“You cannot be serious,” Emmy said, giving me a disbelieving look.

“Yes, it will in fact be hotter than the surface of the sun,” I said. “It’ll be well over a hundred degrees in the shade.”

Emmy took a moment to do the mental math. “Forty degrees?”

“Yeah, somewhere in that range,” I agreed.

“That is hot, but not hotter than the sun.” Emmy said, scolding me for exaggerating. “It gets that hot in parts of Spain in the summer, and I am O.K. with that.”

“Yeah, but there’s still nothing to see in Phoenix, anyway.”

“I am certain that there must be,” Emmy said, her face taking on a determined cast. “I will look it up and find things for us to see.”

“Good luck,” I said with a doubtful shrug.