When I got home that evening, Angela was in the kitchen, apparently cooking something.

“Angela is making arepas,” Emmy said from her seat at the counter. “They sound delicious.”

I gave Emmy a little kiss hello, and she gave me a concerned look. “What is the matter?” She asked.

“Ah, just some work stuff, that’s all. No big deal.”

“Can I tell you something?” Emmy asked, leaning in and speaking quietly so Angela wouldn’t hear.

“What?” I asked, also keeping my voice down.

“I have been thinking about your fight this morning. I have been thinking about it all day.”

“It wasn’t a fight,” I protested.

“It looked like a fight to me,” Emmy countered.

“So why have you been thinking about it?”

Glancing over at Angela, who was busy at the stove, she whispered, “I have been sexually aroused ever since. I am dying to get you to bed.”

“Well, now,” I said, grinning. “I can skip cooking dinner tonight and we can order in and we can go take a nice, long bath right now.”

“Jenna and Andy will be here in less than an hour,” Emmy complained.

“And if it’s anything like last time, they’ll be here until midnight," I said.

“I cannot wait that long!” Emmy proclaimed. “I will die!”

Laughing, I gave her another kiss, but this time long and slow, pulling her up and into my embrace. She returned the kiss avidly, clinging to me desperately.

“I need you,” she whispered as we parted.

“You have me,” I said.

Straightening, I glanced at Angela, who quickly turned away, focusing her attention back on her cooking. Amused, I said out loud, “I’m going to take a quick shower and then get started on dinner.”

Emmy got a wistful look on her face, asking, “Will you need any help?”

“I might,” I agreed. “Are you volunteering?”

“Yes!” Emmy said, quickly standing up.

I stole another quick glance at Angela, in time to catch her watching us, blushing like a schoolgirl. “We’ll be right back,” I said, taking Emmy’s hand.

As fun as our soapy time was, we had to keep it quick, since we did have guests coming over soon. It seemed to do for Emmy for the moment, judging by the satisfied look on her face as we got dressed. I will certainly admit that just that little bit of love-making really improved my mood dramatically.

Back in the kitchen, Angela had finished and cleaned up after herself, to my relief. Her cooking had smelled wonderful, but I needed to get started on dinner. The actual roasting time for the tuna was only ten minutes, so that was the last step, but I needed to make the mango salsa and grill the vegetables.

Angela had vanished to her room, but she emerged soon after I got started on dinner.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked.

“No, I think I’ve got it,” I said. “But thanks.”

While I was prepping the veggies, to make small talk I said, “I see you’re wearing something else today. Did you manage to get your clothes from your condo?”

“Yeah,” Angela said with a sigh. “I hope you don’t mind, but I moved all my things into the guest bedroom.”

“No, that’s fine,” I said as Emmy sat down at the counter. “So what’s the story?”

“I talked to the detective in charge and told her I needed my things, so she and her partner met me at the door to the condo, and they watched as I packed up as much of my stuff as I could. I guess they were making sure I didn’t make off with any evidence, you know?” she said. “It took me a bunch of trips, but I got all my things out of Antonio’s apartment.”

“Did you get a chance to talk to Antonio?”

“No, I didn’t,” Angela said, her accent stronger than usual as she thought about it. “The more I think about it, the more I think it might be true.”

"That is… very unfortunate,” Emmy said, sympathetically. “What are you going to do?”

“I think I have to separate myself from Antonio, and find a new place to live. Today I talked to my sponsors, to let them know what’s going on and that I’m not involved in any way, you know?”

“Sponsors?” Emmy asked, unsure what Angela meant.

“I have three main sponsors,” Angela said, then realized that Emmy really had no clue. “I have three main companies that I represent, and they need to know that I’m not going to give them bad P.R.”

“Like clothing companies?” I asked.

“Two are clothing companies. One is casual athleisure wear, the other is a swimwear company. I also have an energy drink sponsor.”

“I guess that explains all the energy drink cans in the fridge,” I said, jokingly.

“Sorry about that,” Angela said, wincing.

“No, it’s cool,” I said. “It’s a big fridge, plenty of room.”

“What do these companies pay you to do?” Emmy asked, intrigued.

“It’s mostly Instagram influencing, but when I get a magazine interview or web article, I make sure to wear their clothes, unless it’s a commercial shoot, you know?”

“I do not do any social media other than our band’s Facebook page,” Emmy admitted. “How does this influencing work?”

Just then the front desk called to let us know our guests had arrived, so I started on the process of grilling the vegetables. I figured half an hour of that, and we’d be eating inside of forty-five minutes.

Jenna and Andy were right on time, which is an amazing feat in Los Angeles, with its unpredictable traffic patterns.

“Hey, Leah,” Andy said, opening his arms wide for a hug, but since he was holding a bottle of wine in each hand, it looked comical. I gave him and then Jenna hugs, telling Andy to throw the white in the fridge but leave the red out.

“Dinner will be in about twenty minutes,” I said. “You guys want to eat outside again?”

“Yeah, that was really nice last time,” Jenna agreed. “Can I help somehow?”

“Maybe set the table out there?” I suggested.

While Jenna, Angela and Emmy set the balcony table and got things situated out there, Andy hung out in the kitchen with me.

“Hey, Leah, I’ve been thinking about what you said last time, and you know I said we want to go ahead with your idea about helping us buy a house, you know?”

“Yeah, we need to set up a time you guys can come by my office, to look at properties. We can narrow the choices down, then go out and do some site inspections.”

“‘Site inspections’?” Andy repeated, amused. “You do not sound like a realtor at all.”

“Not a realtor,” I confirmed. “That’s not my gig at all. To me, they’re ‘sites’ or ‘units’ or ‘properties’, not ‘homes’,” I said, with liberal use of air quotes to make my point.

“I guess that kinda leads into what I wanted to talk to you about,” Andy said, rubbing the back of his neck, nervously. “You said you do real estate investing, right?”

“Yeah, that’s a thing I do,” I confirmed, pulling the asparagus off the stove-top grill.

“Um, how can I… I mean, is there a way I can get into that, too? I thought about what you said, about guaranteed salary and all that, and it made all kinds of sense. Jenna and me, we think we want to invest as much as we possibly can as quickly as we can, so when I retire we can live comfortably for the rest of our lives from then on, right?”

“Are you asking me for advice on how to go about investing in real estate?” I asked for clarification.

Jenna had bustled into the kitchen just then, so she’d replied to my question. “What this big goof is asking, Leah, is if we can somehow invest in your company or whatever? We don’t know a single damned thing about investing, but it’s obvious you do.”

“We want to jump on that train,” Andy said, wrapping his arm around Jenna’s shoulders.

“What train?” Angela asked as she and Emmy joined the three of us in the kitchen, which was becoming crowded.

“Jenna and Andy want to invest in my real estate investment trust,” I said. Turning to Andy and Jenna, I said, “if that’s what you want to do, it’s really easy. Come down to my office, read the prospectus, fill out some forms, and hand over as much money as you want. Last year the ROI was a bit over twenty-eight percent, but it’s gonna vary year to year.”

“So, like, it’s just some sort of fund, and you can invest as much or as little as you want?” Jenna asked.

“Well, yeah, but there is a minimum, usually. I mean, ten bucks wouldn’t be worth anyone’s time, right?”

“Makes sense,” Andy admitted. “So, if we gave you a million bucks, after a year, we’d have one point two eight million? We’d make two hundred and eighty grand?”

“Andy, look at your big brain!” I said, giving him a little shove.

He looked sheepish, but laughed at himself anyway. “I are smart!” he declared.

Sitting out at the balcony table, conversation turned lighter. Emmy mentioned to Angela that Andy played in the NFL, and we saw his season opener a few days before.

“He even gave me the football when he stole it from the other team’s boss!” she said. Now, I knew that she was playing up her ignorance of the game for effect, so I didn’t bother to correct her. Jenna, though, ran with it.

“I saw that on TV! He totally just mugged that guy and stole the ball right outta his hands!” she said. “And then he was like, all Robin Hood, giving the ball to someone who didn’t even have one!”

“That was it! He saw that I had no football, so he took it from that other guy that probably has lots of them, and gave it to me. I shall treasure it forever!” Emmy said.

“You’d better treasure it,” Andy said. “That football cost me twelve hundred bucks.”

“You bought it? I thought you had stolen it?” Emmy asked.

“Fined?” I asked, and Andy nodded.

“But I knew it beforehand, so it’s cool. I just wanted you guys to have it. If you guys have a Sharpie I’ll sign it after dinner.”

“That would be awesome,” I said. “You should sign the jersey I got Emmy, too.”

“I saw her wearing that,” Andy admitted. “It was so awesome you guys came to the game. It really meant a lot, and you would not believe the traction it’s given me with the guys on the team. They all want to meet you, Em.”

“Maybe when our new house is ready we can have a party and you can bring some of your teammates,” Emmy suggested. “We cannot really have any parties here.”

“Yeah, we’ll have to have a housewarming party when we get settled in,” I agreed.

“You bought a house?” Angela asked.

“Yes, Leah found us an amazing place in Hollywood,” Emmy said. “But it needs a lot of work, so it will be six months until we can move in.”

“At least six months,” I said, trying to temper Emmy’s expectations. Privately, I thought it would be a miracle if Ned got everything done that quickly, but I didn’t want to rain on Emmy’s parade too much.

“I was telling Jenna about it,” Andy said. “I don’t think I did a very good job of describing the place, though.”

“He said it was a movie studio you were converting into a house?” Jenna asked.

“Yes!” Emmy said. “But we are only converting part of it. Most of it will stay as a recording studio and rehearsal space, including the, what is it called? The really big room?” Emmy asked, turning to me.

“The sound stage?”

“Yes, the sound stage. That will remain ready for filming, if we choose, or for stage rehearsal, if that is what we need. It will be wonderful!”

“Sounds pretty cool,” Jenna agreed. “But Andy was saying the house will be hidden inside, somehow?”

“Not hidden, exactly, but sorta,” I agreed. “It’s hard to describe, but basically the house part will be separated from the commercial parts, with separate entrances and all that.” Seeing the puzzled look on Jenna’s face, I said, “It’ll make sense when you see it.”

“And meanwhile, we’re stressing about buying a three-bedroom house in the Valley,” Jenna said with a sigh.

“We’ll find you guys a great place, don’t worry,” I assured her. “You’ll be in your new home in no time. Faster than we will, that’s for sure.”

Angela had mostly been quiet all evening, but after dinner, when we moved to the living room so Emmy could play records on her new stereo and we all got into the third bottle of wine, she loosened up and told Andy and Jenna about what she’d been going through the last couple of days.

“I’m super grateful that Emmy and Leah are letting me stay here, even though they hardly know me,” she said. “They’re really wonderful people.”

“It was the least we could do,” Emmy said.

“You said you’re a fitness model?” Jenna asked. “Is that a good living?”

“I get paid fairly well for my fitness modeling, sure, but I make a lot more with my social media presence,” Angela said, pulling out her phone to show off her Instagram feed.

“How does that even work?” Andy asked, curious.

“Watch this,” Angela said, getting up from her seat and handing her phone to me. “Here, could you take our photo?” She asked, as she sat on the couch with Jenna and Andy. She directed the two of them on how to pose, so that it looked casual, as if they were just hanging out, even though the actual way they were sitting was totally unnatural.

“Take a few photos from various angles,” Angela instructed me, then took the phone back when I’d snapped the pics.

“O.K., now I look through to see which photo is best, that’s this one, see?” she said, showing the photos to Andy and Jenna. “Now, I do a little work…” she said as she fussed with the phone, “And here we go. Now look at the picture.”

Jenna and Andy looked at the photo on the phone. “You cropped it, and whatever you did makes me look fantastic,” Jenna said.

“It’s all filters,” Angela admitted. “And the cropping is all about highlighting the background you want people to see.”

“So you take a completely staged picture that looks natural, adjust it so everybody looks amazing, and then what? Post it on Facebook?” Andy asked.

“Mostly Instagram, but Facebook, too, and I’ll Tweet it,” Angela agreed, as her fingers flew across the touchscreen. “O.K., now look on your phone. Do a search for my Insta profile.”

She waited as Andy took out his phone and did as she instructed. “See my new post?” Angela asked when Andy said he’d found her account.

“Yeah, here we are, the three of us, on the couch, looking like old friends having a great time,” he said.

“Now look at the hashtags,” she instructed. “You see I’ve hashtagged the two of you, the Los Angeles Rams, the NFL, Los Angeles, The Century, good friends, and so on, right?”

“Yeah,” Andy said.

“Well, that means that anybody doing a search for any of those will see this post, right? Well, I’ve also tagged the clothing company that sponsors me, and I’m wearing their clothes, right? So that means that every click on their account that comes from people who’ve just seen my post will net me some money. Not a lot, but since I have over a million followers, that post might make me, maybe a hundred bucks? Maybe two hundred, if it gets shared a lot? That isn’t a ton of money, but I post a half dozen times a day, so it adds up,” Angela explained. “It helps a lot if there is somebody else in the picture that is famous, or has a strong social presence, and of course, my bikini or implied nude pics always get a lot of likes and shares.”

Andy had been scrolling through her feed while she explained all of that, and at the mention of nudes, he said, “You mean like this one?” Holding up his phone for Angela to see, then showing Jenna.

“Holy shit,” Jenna exclaimed, taking the phone from her fiancée. “Jesus, just look at you! Nobody has an ass like that!”

“A picture like that will make me a couple of thousand dollars,” Angela said. “But I can’t post too many like that. I have to seem as if my pics are just my daily life, you know? So only maybe one out of twenty is a nude, and five or six are bikini pics. The rest are gym photos or casuals, with a few professional modeling photos thrown in.”

Jenna had been scrolling through the pics on Andy’s phone, muttering, “No fucking way… Not human… Must be photoshop.” Finally, she handed the phone back to Andy, saying, “You must really be the master of, like, Photoshop and those filters.”

“Why do you say that?” Emmy asked.

“Because nobody looks like that in real life. Those have to be fake.”

Angela laughed, saying, “The boobs are fake, but the rest is hard work. Hang on a moment,” she said as she got up. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ve seen her in her workout outfit. She’s pretty built,” I said.

“Yeah, I’m calling shenanigans,” Jenna said, sipping her wine.

As quick as that, Angela came back to the living room, but this time with no clothes on. Well, she had a tiny little bikini on, which was three small bright pink triangles with some strings holding them onto her body. So, basically, ninety-eight per cent nude. She walked across the living room like a model on a catwalk, all our eyes on her as she stopped in the middle and posed, alternating flexing like a bodybuilder and posing like a Sports Illustrated swimsuit cover girl.

“Looks real to me,” Andy said.

“You’d better stop looking, mister, if you know what’s good for you,” Jenna told him in a mock-threatening tone.

“I can’t look away!” he cried out, making like he was trying to turn his head but some force was holding him in place. Honestly, I understood completely. Angela was a bit too muscular for me, but damn, her ass was truly a thing of beauty.

Angela posed for a minute or two, then sat down on the couch next to Jenna again. “See?” she asked, extending her leg so her quad tensed and showed its amazing definition.

Jenna put her hand on Angela’s thigh and gave it a squeeze. “Jesus H Roosevelt Christ,” she said. “It’s as hard as a freaking rock.” She gave it another squeeze and said, “You know, I used to think I didn’t have a gay bone in my body…”

Angela laughed, and said, “I’d thought the same thing until quite recently.”

Jenna laughed, stroking Angela’s thigh one last time for good measure.