Chapter 13
The limousine minibus with Billy and the others stopped at the entrance to Damian Leon’s property, where a pair of security personnel in black suits stood.
One of the men stepped aboard the bus.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” he said. “May I have your names, please?”
As each person spoke up, the man checked them against a list on an iPad.
Billy was last, and after he gave his name, the man nodded, then said to the driver, “Follow the road up to the house, and let everyone out there. My colleague at the exit gate will direct you to the parking area.”
After he exited, the bus proceeded up the curved driveway.
“Whoa,” Mari said, as Damian’s house came into view.
The building seemed to jut out of the ground like the bow of a ship in the water; if, that was, the sides of the ship were made of glass. The apex of the “bow” hung above the entrance, protecting a grand set of open, patinaed double doors from the elements.
“Wait until you see inside.” Hattie grinned.
“I thought you said you’ve never been here before,” Ben said.
“I haven’t. But I have read the Architectural Digest article it was featured in last year. All I’ll say is the man has good taste.”
When the bus stopped at the entrance, two women wearing suits similar to the men at the gate jogged up to the vehicle’s door.
As Billy and the others exited, one of the women said, “Welcome to Chez Leon.”
The other gestured to the doors. “All the way through and into the backyard. The path is marked.”
“Thank you,” Billy said.
The group proceeded inside.
Just beyond the entryway was a large sunken living room containing a curving yellow retro-style couch, three matching chairs, and a freestanding fireplace. To the left, a tasteful chandelier hung above a long, teak dining table and chair set.
The path to the back of the house was bordered by gold velvet ropes strung between black stanchions that prevented anyone from straying into either room.
“Are those all his?” Mari said, nodding toward a cabinet upon which sat a Grammy, two Oscars, and a Tony award.
“They are,” Billy said.
“He’s an Emmy short of an EGOT,” Peter said.
EGOT was the term used to describe people who had won an Emmy, a Grammy, an Oscar, and a Tony Award, an achievement only few had obtained.
“Is the Grammy for a spoken word category?” Mari asked.
“No idea,” Tessa said.
Peter, Ben, and Hattie looked equally perplexed.
“Music,” Billy and Stone said in unison.
The others all turned to them, surprised.
“He’s a musician?” Mari asked.
Billy and Stone shared a look.
“You want to take this?” Billy asked.
“Tempting, but I’ll defer to you,” Stone said.
“That’s very kind, but if you’d prefer…”
“No, no. You go right ahead.”
“Dear God. Will one of you please answer the question?” Peter asked.
“Damian is a singer,” Billy said. “At least for one album that came out long before any of you were born. It was a year or two after David Soul’s first album came out, I believe.”
Stone nodded his agreement.
“Who’s David Soul?” Tessa asked.
“Hutch,” Billy said.
“Hutch what?”
“Not Hutch what, Starsky & Hutch,” Stone said.
“The Ben Stiller and Owen Wilson movie?” Ben asked.
Billy shook his head in disappointment. “That movie was a remake of the 1970s TV show on which David Soul played Hutch. Seriously, you’re all Hollywood elites. You should know this.”
“I’m not Hollywood elite,” Mari said.
“You have a pass,” Billy said.
“I still don’t understand what the original Hutch’s album has to do with Damian’s Grammy,” Tessa said.
“A lot of popular actors released albums around that time,” Stone said. “Lynda Carter, Telly Savalas, Burt Reynolds—”
“Don’t forget John Travolta,” a male voice said from behind them.
The group turned to find that their host had just entered the house from the backyard and stopped behind them, grinning.
“Mr. Leon,” Ben said. “We were just admiring your awards.” He stepped toward the star. “We met once a few years ago. I’m Ben Bacchetti.”
Damian shook his hand. “I remember. You’re the head of Centurion Pictures. I’m so glad you could make it.”
“We’ve been looking forward to it. Happy birthday.”
“Thank you.”
“May I introduce you to my wife, Tessa.”
Damian took both of Tessa’s hands in his. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve seen everything you’ve done. You are a true talent.”
“Oh, my,” Tessa said. “Thank you.” Normally, she wasn’t easily flustered, but flustered she was. “I’m honored. And I’ve seen everything you’ve done, too. You’re an icon.”
He shook his head. “No, no. I’m just Damian.”
“This is Peter Barrington and his wife, Hattie,” Ben said, gesturing to the couple.
“Happy birthday,” Hattie said.
“The woman behind the music,” Damian said, greeting her. “I’m a big fan.”
“Thank you.”
Peter shook the star’s hand. “Mr. Leon, what a thrill it is to meet you in person. Thank you for inviting us to your party.”
“If I didn’t make it clear before, it’s Damian,” Damian said. “None of this Mr. Leon stuff. And the thrill is mine, Peter. Your films have been some of my favorites in recent years.”
Mari was introduced next.
“Ah, the one questioning my Grammy,” Damian said with a sly smile.
“I would never question someone’s Grammy,” she said quickly. “I just hadn’t been aware you’d put out an album.”
“So long ago that I’m barely aware of it myself. You, on the other hand, are the true music star. I see multiple Grammys in your future.”
“From your lips to the music gods’ ears.”
Ben then said, “And this is Billy Barnett, Peter’s producer and my right-hand man at Centurion.”
“Good to see you again, Billy,” Damian said.
They shook hands.
“You know each other?” Ben asked, surprised.
“We go way back to last night,” Billy said. “Stone and I had dinner at the same place as Damian.”
Damian greeted Stone, then said, “Thank you all for coming. There are drinks and food outside.” He motioned through the open sliding glass wall behind him, into the backyard. “Hopefully, we’ll all have time to chat later.”
“That would be great,” Peter said.
“Until then,” Damian said.
He flashed them all a pearly white smile, patted Ben on the back, then slipped under the rope and disappeared into the back of the house.
The group entered the expansive backyard and found a large crowd already in attendance.
“I didn’t realize there were going to be this many people here,” Tessa said under her breath.
“Me, either,” Peter said. “I’m not sure this is the right setting to talk to him about the movie.”
“You’re probably right,” Billy said. “I’ll see if I can find someone who works for him. Maybe they could help set up a meeting for another day.”
“Thanks, Billy,” Peter said.
“For now, let’s enjoy the party.”
—
Ronan had arrived at Damian’s house at six a.m., and had been in constant motion since, making sure everything was prepared for what was always deemed the party of the year.
Once the festivities started, he split his time between checking on the caterers and security staff and making sure Damian’s guests were having a good time.
The backyard already held a sizable crowd.
There were many immediately recognizable faces such as that of pop-star Mari Chen, cable news anchor Jet Brickman, and movie stars Tessa Tweed and Tom Norman.
There were other movers and shakers who worked behind the scenes in the entertainment industry and several fellow retirees Damian had befriended after moving to Palm Springs.
More than three hundred invites had gone out, and if past years were any indication, nearly everyone who received them would show up along with their plus-ones.
Damian’s favorite band, the Con Cons, would also be playing a set, and Ronan planned on trying to get Mari Chen to join them for a song.
He checked his watch. It was almost nine p.m. If Emma had left soon after he’d called her, she would be here any minute.
He glanced through the crowd toward the house, but there was still no sign of her. Just as he started to turn away, a woman stepped into the backyard who he recognized immediately as someone definitely not on the invite list.
Katy Lane, Ronan’s ex-girlfriend and one of his biggest mistakes.
She was dressed to the nines in a silver lamé dress with a plunging neckline that dipped past her belly button. She was already drawing the attention of several guests.
Ronan began weaving his way toward her, forcing himself to smile so that no one would suspect that something was wrong.
Ahead, Katy plucked a flute of champagne off the tray held by a passing waiter and looked around as she took a sip.
A barrel-chested bald man Ronan didn’t recognize approached her and began talking, a hungry grin on his face. She laughed at whatever he said and brushed her fingers along his arm.
Ronan slipped among the last of the people between them and stepped toward Katy and her new friend.
There was a momentary flash of panic in her eyes as she turned toward him, but she quickly hid whatever she was feeling with a sweet smile. “Ronan, I was just going to come looking for you.”
The big man looked Ronan up and down, then asked in what sounded like an Eastern European accent, “Who are you?”
“Ronan’s my ex-boyfriend,” Katy said.
This drew a raised eyebrow from the man.
“Sir, I hope you don’t mind, but I need to talk to Katy for a moment,” Ronan said.
“And if I say I do mind?” the man asked.
Katy touched the man’s arm again. “It’ll only be for a moment. Why don’t you get us something to eat. I’ll find you as soon as we’re done.”
The man grunted, gave Ronan the side-eye, and walked away.
“Come on,” Ronan said to Katy, and headed to a quieter spot where they could talk.