Jenna and Andy stayed to help me clean up after everybody else had left, which was nice of them. There really wasn’t much to do since the cleaning ladies came every other day anyhow, but still, I appreciated it.

“I guess I never really understood what Downfall shows were like,” Jenna said as she loaded the dishwasher. “I mean, I’ve been to a few concerts, but they weren’t anything like that.”

“How so?” I asked.

“Well, that concert was something like you’d see from some sort of old-school band, you know? Like Pink Floyd or, I don’t know, somebody like that. All the lasers, and the lights, it was all just so over the top, you know?” Jenna said, stopping to think about it. “I mean, I hear their music all the time, right? And we’ve all seen that video of Emmy on the boat. I guess I just thought it would more, well, normal, like a band on a stage playing their music, somehow. I just didn’t picture some giant rock spectacle.”

“They do shows like that, too,” I said. “And sometimes they play acoustic sets in coffee shops. They just love to perform, and they wanted to do a big-ass arena rock tour this time. In fact, I think it’s actually called ‘The Downfall’s Big-Ass Arena Rock Tour’. At least, that’s what’s printed on the T shirts I saw.”

“Nuh uh,” Jenna said, giving me a disbelieving glare.

“Nuh uh what?” Andy asked, carrying the last load of glasses up from the home theater.

“Lee just said that the concert shirts say ‘The Downfall’s Big-Ass Arena Rock Tour’ on them,” Jenna explained.

“And?”

“And so I said ‘nuh uh’,” Jenna replied, her hands on her hips.

“I’m gonna go with Lee on this one,” Andy said. “It wouldn’t surprise me a bit if that is actually what the shirts say.”

“Hang on a sec. The show ended, what, an hour ago? That means that everybody is still awake and probably at the arena still,” I said, pulling out my phone. I texted Stephanie, and got a response in about two minutes.

“Here’s a picture of the shirt,” I said, holding my phone up for Jenna and Andy to see.

“That is awesome,” Andy said as Jenna’s face fell in disbelief. Sure enough, there it was. “I am absolutely buying a T shirt when we get to see ‘em.”

“I’ll tell you guys what. You pick the city, and I’ll make sure you have VIP passes. You want to see ‘em in Rome? Book the plane tickets and I’ll sort out the rest with Steph. You’ll stay in the same hotel, and ride to the venue with the band,” I offered. “And maybe get some merch comped.”

Jenna looked at Andy and he looked back at her for a long moment. “I’ve always wanted to see Tokyo as an adult,” he finally said. “It’s off season, and we have the money.”

“I hear the Tokyo Dome is nice,” I said.

“How much notice do you need, to, um, get the passes and all that?” Jenna asked.

“The more lead the better, but I think today or next week won’t make any difference for Tokyo,” I said. “But if you want to see the show in Prague, you’d better get on the ball right now.”

The next week I buried myself in work and got caught up on my projects for class, since I had nothing else to do. The house was empty, even though the studio side was very busy almost all the time. Really, the way the place was divided up, I never even really saw that four fifths of the building unless I went looking for it.

For me, it was a big, empty house, only the cleaners and the nutritionist making any noise at all. There was no reason to not spend pretty much every waking hour on work, so that’s what I did.

A few people asked about Angela at the club the following weekend, and when I explained that she was on tour with Emmy and the band, a few eyebrows were raised. I’d never spelled out to anybody besides the Athertons and Andrej and Lauren what the real nature of my relationship was with Angela, and I’m sure that most of the club’s clientele assumed she was my mistress or something like that.

They could think whatever they wanted as far as I was concerned. In fact, an aura of mystery was probably better for the image I’d been playing there, anyway.

I didn’t call Ashley that trip to San Jose, and stayed away from The Pit since there was a real risk I’d bump into her there. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy her company, it was more that I just wasn’t in the mood to be sociable. Michael was out of town, too, so again, it was work, work, work.

The following week was more of the same. The only real highlights were the texts and phone calls from Angela and Emmy, telling me about the great times they were having. Prague, thankfully, was completely uneventful, too. I’d even asked Grant point blank, and he confirmed that there were no issues of any kind, and everything was going perfectly smoothly, to my relief.

A week later I decided that I was going to get a jump on my trip to Paris with a couple of days in New York. It would break up the ridiculously long flight and let me catch up with Mia, as well as see the art and decorations that Emmy and Angela had bought with Luisa for the place. It would give me a chance to really try out my home office in New York, too.

I’d been working from home in Los Angeles more and more and relying less and less on actually being physically at my work office, and had mixed feelings about the whole thing. It’s true, most of what I did was review proposals and contracts, send emails and talk on the phone, all of which I could do from pretty much anywhere I had access to the internet. That said, a lot of work communication is just casual conversation in the break room or something like that, which wasn’t really going to happen if I wasn’t there.

Working remotely in another city altogether took that one step farther, since there would be a time zone differential on top of the obvious truth that I couldn’t just drop in to the office to pick up blueprints or whatever else.

I had in my mind that it was possible I could detach from the physical office entirely, only coming in when I had meeting scheduled, but I just wasn’t sure. I wanted to keep my promise to Angela and Emmy and be more present for them when they hit the difficult stages of pregnancy and faced the hard work of caring for babies, so I really hoped it could pan out.

If it wasn’t for my classes at UCLA Anderson I would have been on tour with Emmy, working from whatever hotel we happened to be staying in. Heck, I thought, maybe in the future after I finished my MBA and didn’t have to go to campus twice a week we could live full-time for at least part of the year in New York, or a place in Paris, if that’s what Emmy wanted, or maybe Maui… Who knows?

Wally picked me up from Teterboro Airport, looking well-groomed and wide awake despite the ridiculously early hour. He greeted me with a smile and, more importantly, a hot cup of coffee and a bag of bagels.

“Welcome back to New York, Miss Leah. It’s good to see you again,” he said.

“Thanks, Wally. And thanks for the coffee and breakfast. This is great.” I said, truly grateful for Wally’s sense of courtesy. It wasn’t the first time that I wished he was willing to move to Los Angeles, and it wouldn’t be the last.

Luisa was still asleep when we got to the townhouse, but Mia was wide awake. “Hey, Boss,” she said as she opened the door for me to enter. “You prolly want to crash for a little bit, but when you’re ready I have some stuff to show you.”

“Sounds good,” I said. “But yeah, I could use a couple of hours first.”

When I got up Luisa was ready to make me breakfast. After a quick meal of a fried egg sandwich with tomatoes, I made my way downstairs to see what Mia had to show me.

Down in her little security room in the sub basement, she ran through where all the Night Children she’d been tracking seemed to live, or at least close to it. She showed me footage of the hideout, and then, most remarkable of all, a series of digitally enhanced photos of the nearly two dozen associated with the cell, as Mia called it.

She’d had plenty of time to track each of them to and from the hideout, or headquarters, or social club or whatever it was, and had identified their movement patterns to an amazing degree.

“Yeah, I don’t actually even have to, like, visually follow ‘em or anything,” she explained. “The routines your hacker friend set up do that all for me, and the heat maps pinpoint where they go most often. It’s really impressive,” she said. “And, honestly, a bit scary. I mean, if we can do this, what does the NSA even do?”

“If it ever comes down to a- well, a raid, I guess, can you cut those cameras off from the network?” I asked.

“Already set up,” Mia said. “I’ve been learning so much about all this shit, it’s freaking amazing. When go time comes, if it ever does, I’ll divert the feed from the whole area, making it look like a network error. It’d be at least a couple of hours for the NYPD to get a service ticket going, and then probably thirty-six hours before a crew gets sent out. And yes, I’ve tested that, twice now, and that’s been the way it’s gone. Of course, before the crews got there I physically sabotaged the lines, so they wouldn’t think to look for anything software-related.”

“You’ve spent a lot of time on this,” I said, truly amazed.

“If it comes down to action, I want us to have every possible advantage,” Mia said. “Intel wins wars.”

“I’m still hoping there won’t be any war,” I said, leaning back.

“Well, sure. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst,” Mia replied. After I had no real response but to stare at her multiple computer screens, she finally spoke, her voice a whole lot less confident.

“Um, hey, Boss, can I…” she said, before trailing off. I gave her a look intended to say ‘out with it’, so she continued. “Um, you know, in Seattle I met somebody, and we really hit it off. I mean, we got along great…”

“You want to go back?” I asked. “That’s fine with me,” I said.

“Well, I mean, yeah, I do, but it’s, well, Jace is talking about coming over here, to New York. He’s never been to the East Coast and he’s thinking a change might be good.”

“I sense there’s a question in there,” I said.

“Yeah, um, how do you feel about me bringing him back here? I mean, it is your place and all, right?” Mia asked, unsure of her footing.

“To live, or just to visit?” I asked.

“Oh, God, just visit,” Mia said in a rush. “If, like, he decides he wants to stay in New York, we’d get him a place of his own, you know?”

“I’m O.K. with it,” I said. “But tell me you’re sure about his… well, trustworthiness, I guess. There’s Luisa’s safety and security to think of, and almost two million dollars worth of art, plus another million in wine. If you’re really sure that Jace can be trusted…” I said, leaving it hanging.

“I think so. I mean, yeah, I’m sure. He’s not some punk with an attitude or anything like that, you know?” Mia said.

“Most important is Luisa’s security,” I said. “If she’s uncomfortable, Jace has got to go. And the same for when Angela and Emmy are here.”

“Oh, yeah, absolutely,” Mia said, nodding her head. “But Jace isn’t like that.”

“Alright,” I said. “I’ll trust your judgement on this.”

“Thanks!” Mia said, relieved.

“And Jace hears nothing about any of this,” I said, pointing at the screens.

“Oh, fuck no,” Mia agreed. “This is need-to-know shit, and he does not need to know.”

“As long as we’re on the same page,” I said, “it’s fine with me.”

Musing on Mia’s pronoun choice as I made my way upstairs, I pondered the question of whose house is it, really? Sure, Emmy wanted it so I bought it for her, but the people that actually live in it are Mia and Luisa…

Because of the time zone difference the West Coast offices didn’t even open until noon New York time, so a leisurely morning meant that I was ready for my first Zoom meeting at the start of the (California) business day.

After most of the people in the meeting had signed off, Rebecca Brown (the lawyer for the City of Dana Point) stayed on the call.

“Leah, is that a new office?” she asked, peering at her screen for a better view of my background.

“My home office,” I said. “I guess this is my first Zoom meeting from here.”

“Where do you live?” she asked, puzzled. “That looks like the East Coast out the windows.”

Laughing, I said, “This is my Manhattan townhouse,” I said. “I just stopped off here on my way to catch up with Emmy in Paris.”

“Paris? Paris, France?” Rebecca asked.

“The Downfall is in the middle of a European tour,” I explained. “I’m going for the Paris and London shows.”

“Must be nice,” she replied with a sigh.

“Hey,” I said, softening my voice. “I’ve been meaning to ask, and I hope this isn’t too personal. You and your wife, any luck?”

Rebecca’s shoulders slumped and her face turned sorrowful. “Well- and don’t ever let Shana know I told you this- she did get pregnant. We went to the place you recommended in Beverly Hills, and they were really good. They got Shana on a new hormone regimen and finally an IVF actually caught, but she miscarried three months in. God, she was so…” Rebecca said, her voice nearly cracking.

“Are you going to try again?” I asked, as gently as I could.

“Yeah, we are,” Rebecca replied. “But the doctor wants us to wait for six to nine months until Shana’s back to baseline, you know? Just so we can give her system time to recover and start fresh.”

“How is Shana doing?”

“I was really worried for her when it happened,” Rebecca said. “I seriously thought that there was a real possibility she might… hurt herself, you know? But eventually she got through it, and now, as crazy as it might sound, I think it’s actually given her some hope, that, well, it might work next time.”

Sighing, I said, “I wish you guys the best. It’s tough physically, sure, but emotionally most of all,” I commiserated.

“How about you guys? Is Emmy pregnant?” Rebecca asked.

“Well, yes, but it’s just been a few weeks and we need to do testing to see if the fetus is viable before we actually, um, celebrate, I guess. I think I mentioned that the actual fertilization was extremely tricky, right? Well, until we know for sure the lab got everything right with their experimental process, we, well…” I said with a shrug.

Rebecca sighed. “Why is it so hard? People have babies all the time when they don’t even want them, and can’t possibly take care of ‘em.”

“Seriously,” I agreed.

The rest of the day went well, proving that working very remotely was actually viable. Of course, it meant I was in the home office until nearly nine o’clock at night, only taking a break to wolf down some lasagna that Luisa made. The eight hour difference in Paris was going to be tougher to work around, I reflected. The work day in Los Angeles was going to start at five in the afternoon in France, which meant that I was going to have to juggle my meeting times carefully.

It was only going to be a single work week, so there was nothing that really couldn’t be put off if necessary, but I thought that it was doable.

Emmy had never brought up the idea of us spending extended periods of time in Paris, but maybe if she wanted, we could buy a place and I could work from a home office overlooking the Seine or something…

The next day was even easier, and really illustrated how it could be possible to do my work from pretty much anywhere. Yes, it meant staying up late, but that was a fairly minor sacrifice.

I thought back to the first night I spent over at Stephanie’s place and how her mom had barged in at five in the morning, since she had to be ready for the East Coast stock trading hours. “We do what we have to,” I thought to myself.

Navigating Newark Airport the following morning was not fun at all, and a reminder of why I hated flying commercial. Even first class sucked, not so much because of the flight itself but having to deal with TSA and immigration lines. Still, it was a stunning amount cheaper than charter and I couldn’t find any executive flights in the time frame I needed, so this is what I got.

The woman at the immigration window in Charles De Gaulle Airport looked at my passport, then back at me, and then my passport again.

“You are married to Emmy De Lascaux, no?” she asked, having recognized me (or at least my name).

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m flying in for their Paris and London shows.”

“I think your seat will be better than mine,” she said with a smile. “Tickets were very expensive.”

I gave her a look, and asked, “Are you really going to the show?”

“My husband and I, we have been waiting for this for a long time,” the immigration officer said.

“What is his name? And your first name? I’ll ask Emmy to name-check you guys,” I offered.

“You could do that?” she asked, stunned.

I took out my phone and brought up a text thread with Emmy, showing the woman my phone.

“I am Clémence and my husband is Laurent,” she said, looking around to make sure her supervisor wasn’t watching.

I quickly texted the names, then took my passport back and said, “See you at the U Arena!”

She gave a little surreptitious wave and smiled broadly. I figured that if I could make her day, why not? I had no doubt Emmy would be happy to throw their names out during the show.

To my surprise, the driver waiting for me was Edouard, Emmy’s cousin.

“Bonjour, Mademoiselle Farmer,” he said with a bow. “Welcome back to Paris.”

“Thanks! It’s good to be back. Oh, and thanks for coming to get me, Edouard. I appreciate it.”

“Of course,” he said, taking my suitcase and leading me to where a midnight blue Seven-Series BMW was parked.

To my surprise we didn’t go to the Lascaux maison, but to a stone and glass-fronted hotel near the Arc De Triomphe.

When I asked, Edouard said, “The princess is with her entourage here. She has visited the family home, but chooses not to stay there.”

Grant met us in the lobby when we walked in. He gave a nod to Edouard, who nodded back and turned to go, but before he did, I asked him, “Hey, Edouard, are you coming to the show tomorrow night? Are you going to get to see Emmy perform?”

A rare smile flitted across his usually stoic face at the thought. “The Madame et Monsieur have a… box at the arena. I will get to see the performance with them.”

“Well, if I don’t see you before then, I hope you enjoy it. I watched the livestreams from Moscow and Berlin and the show is amazing,” I said.

“I did, too,” he admitted. “I have watched all of them.” The pride in his smile was unmistakeable as he turned to go.

“Wow,” Grant said, watching the tall blond man walk out the door. “I’ve never seen him smile before.”

“I have, but never that big,” I admitted. Turning to Grant, who looked like some sort of manager type in an off-the-rack Brooks Brothers suit, I asked, “How are things going?”

“Good,” he said, waving for the bellhop to follow us with my suitcase. “Really good. No problems at all, and coordinating with the locals has been easy. We’ve had a few minor incidents, but typical concert shit, nothing, um, extraordinary.”

“And the girls? Emmy and Angela?”

“Honestly, they’ve been much better than most principals I’ve taken care of. They listen to my advice, they don’t want to wander off or go sketchy places, nothing.”

“I’m glad to hear it. To be honest, I was a bit worried,” I admitted as we stepped out of the elevator onto the sixth floor.

“Caution is warranted, but worry is not,” Grant said, and it sounded like something he’d repeated many times before.

He knocked on the door at the end of the hall on the left, and after a moment Angela opened it. She lit up when she saw me, matching the smile on my own face. She wrapped her arms around me in a fierce hug, which I was happy to return.

“Give me a buzz if you need me,” Grant said, leaving Angela and me alone with the bellhop. Angela noticed him and let me go from the hug, but kept an arm around me. Signaling for the guy to bring my suitcase into the suite, she led the way back inside.

“Leah!” Emmy exclaimed, looking up from the dining table on one side of the surprisingly large room. She had been discussing something with Jackson and Lee and the guys I recognized as the touring musicians, plus two I didn’t know. Set list for the show, or something like that, probably.

Emmy jumped up from her seat and rushed over to give me a hug, too, the three of us in a group embrace for a little while.

Once Emmy and Angela let me go I made my greetings to everybody, then let Angela lead me into one of the adjoining bedrooms.

“This one is ours,” she said unnecessarily, but that was O.K. I was just happy to hear her voice.

“Leah, are you tired? Do you need to rest?” Emmy asked after she had thanked the bellhop and sent him away.

“I should be fine until bedtime,” I said. “I slept some on the plane. But I wouldn’t mind a shower and a change of clothes.”

“I would love to join you in the shower,” Emmy said, “But we are in the middle of determining our play list for tomorrow night.”

“Don’t worry, Em,” Angela said, her voice very consoling as she took Emmy’s hand in hers. “I’ll make sure she’s well taken care of in the shower,” she said, her tone slipping and a smile sneaking its way out.

Emmy laughed in that pretty way of hers and the two gave each other a quick kiss. “Make certain you do not miss any spots,” Emmy said with a smile before she turned to go back to her meeting, giving me a quick kiss, too. “Angela has missed you very much,” she said to me. “And so have I.”