“And so, as far as we can tell, that’s what’s happened,” Arturia tells me and Moon over lunch the next day while discussing the arson incident.
Yup, arson. Someone torched the cars and by the time the fire department got there, about eighteen cars were completely ruined, including both Moon’s and Cab’s. Also, a good chunk of the parking structure as well. Some of the buildings around were impacted, whether by thrown debris or carbon scoring, so this part of Whittier isn’t going to look as 1950s picturesque as the town typically looks.
And now we’re back today, because Moon had to fill out a statement to the police, and she also wanted to be there to support her friends at Renaissance. Plus, Arturia decided to poke her head in and see what she could do from her “particular angle” sort of method.
So now we’re eating at Rick’s Drive In and Out, a decent little place that isn’t too far away from where everything happened and the mood around here is, not surprisingly, not too good. But at least it gives us the chance to talk while seated in the pink plush seats of Rick’s, munching on patty melts, onion rings and some damn good shakes.
“Well, given that a certain person lives in the area and works nearby too and has a history of screwing with Moon’s car prior….” I point out.
But Arturia shakes her head; clearly she’s already thought of that. “Trust me, North; you’re not the only one that thought about her. But you’ll be glad – or may be not so glad – to know that Destiny is currently out of town right now.” She brings up another sheaf of paper. “She’s got a, ahem, ‘guest slot’ over at High Roller’s Gentlemens Club out in Vegas; she’s been there since last week. According to our agent who has been tracking her, she’s got this thing going with another girl and they—”
“I so do not need to hear that, Arturia,” Moon tells her in an exasperated voice. I don’t blame her; I’d rather not think of that freakstick myself.
“So it really was just a random guy who set fire to Moon’s car?” I ask Arturia. “But why the hell would he do that?”
“I see you didn’t read the report,” she chides me, pointing at the folder she’d placed in front of me while we were ordering. “Apparently the perp thought he was going to get back at his wife for cheating on him and so decided to destroy her car to teach her a lesson. Unfortunately, Moon’s car just happened to be the same make, model and almost the same license plate – the car of the woman in question was in the parking garage over on Comstock Avenue. As for Cab’s car, hers was in the row across from Moon’s, so likely it was doomed once the fire started leaping from its origin point. Factor in that the sprinkler system apparently hadn’t been checked in ages as well as no real security system, and you have a formula for the massive three-alarm fire that ensued. It’s a miracle no one was hurt and quite frankly if it wasn’t for a camera across the street at Bank of America that caught the guy on video, the investigation wouldn’t have progressed as fast as they did.”
“Well, I’m glad to know no one’s been injured, but a lot of people got screwed over by this guy, including Cab,” Moon adds, swirling one of her fries in a pool of ketchup. “I mean, I’m not exactly hurting for cash and can probably afford to buy a new car if North doesn’t get in his head to do so, but Cab probably can’t just get a replacement outright, you know?” Of course, Arturia and I both know that if Moon wanted to, she could probably just rewind time or something and restore her car, Cab’s car, and everything else there.
Just in case she gets the idea, however, I reach over and give her hand a slight squeeze. She then reaches out to me with her telepathy. «I wasn’t going to do anything,» she tells me.
«I didn’t think you would.»
«Liar,» she says, then gives me a slight smile.
“Well, while you two are clearly having a ‘couple’s talk’, let me go over what strings I’ve been able to pull,” Arturia adds as she swipes to another screen on her tablet. “While we can’t officially do anything about it, and I’m not sure that HIVE has any pull with the insurance company, we’ll see about her having an increased uptick in her t-shirt sales. We’ll make sure that it’s her personal site and not the Vixens one, so that way she’ll get all the proceeds.”
“I take it afterwards there’s going to be a donation of t-shirts to the local Goodwill?” Moon inquires.
“Nope – there’s a charity that Taylor has that donates clothing and other supplies to needy families overseas,” Arturia says. “I’ve been helping her out with it while she tries to hire a full-time staff for it. Besides, just buying the shirts locally and dumping them off at a second-hand store would be gauche. If we’re going to give the money out, we may as well do it in a way that benefits as many people as possible, right?”
Moon nods. “I owe you one, Arturia.”
I see Arturia perk up at that. “Oh, in that case, can I borrow North? The Radisson is just a block away and I really am in the mood for—”
“I don’t owe you that much.”
As we’re driving home, I can see out of the corner of my eye that Moon’s jabbing her tablet angrily, and generally sulking. “Car or Arturia?” I lightly ask her.
I hear that exasperated sigh of hers and I know I struck home. “I know she’s just joking, but—”
“I’m not going anywhere, hon, you know that.”
“I know,” she says, leaning over to place her head on my shoulder, “but aren’t I allowed to be a jealous mare?”
“As I recall, doing that got you into this situation in the first place.”
“Actually, it got Luna into this situation, and as for me, I think I made out okay. I’m sure she’s doing fine as well.” She then reaches up and gives me a peck on the cheek. “So, I guess I need to get home so I can start working on looking over the contract for the refurbishing of the BAE office layout.”
“Nope,” I tell her as I let a smug smile come onto my face for a second.
“You’re up to something, aren’t you?” she accuses. It’s a fair accusation.
“Would I do something like that?”
“Yes, yes you would.”
Dinner that night is at Tokyo Wako over in Long Beach. We got here courtesy of Moon’s new car, a Hyundai Tucson Limited that she just fell in love with “because all bosses drive SUVs” and as the owner of her own budding game development company, she has to look the part. It cost me about 35 large, but I’m okay with that since it makes my girl happy.
Plus, we both like coming to the boardwalk, just for the romantic views of the marina and Grissom Island and the moonlight. Especially the moonlight, which is critically important when dating a retired lunar goddess. It’s a nice evening, the moon is full and the skies are clear, and everything would seem perfect.
Now if I could only just get her to smile. Don’t get me wrong; I know she’s happy. We’ve been together long enough that I know her moods, and if she really wasn’t all that eager to go out, we could have just stayed home, especially since I have a bunch of articles to look over and with Cherry out in New York this week talking to some investors regarding expanding Technon, my hands are full. And even with my sweetheart being what she is, even in the human framework she now operates in most of the time, it’s gotta be just as busy for her. So I was hoping that dinner tonight would take at least some of the issues off her, even if just temporarily.
“They are,” she tells me in that soft voice of hers that she uses when she knows I’m worried about her. We then stop just past the Aquarium of the Pacific and she looks at me. “I…I can’t get over the feeling that Destiny’s behind this, somehow,” she admits.
“Why? As much as I think she’s out of her mind, she’s nowhere near here. The guy who set your car on fire wasn’t even intending to set your car on fire.” I reach over and embrace her and she melts into my hold. “You’re worried over nothing, Moon.”
She looks at me and I can see the worry in her eyes, her glasses showing “normal” eyes while I know the real serpentine ones behind them are just as much a reflection of whatever demons are haunting her at the moment. “Am I wrong to feel this? She’s obsessed with you, and she pulled a knife on me!”
“Yes, and as I recall, you pulled the gun out of the safe and it wasn’t for the fact that my sister was around, you probably would have blinked and teleported her to Catalina if not worse,” I remind her. “There’s no way she could hurt you at all, hon.”
“It’s not me I’m worried about her hurting,” she tells me and I blink. I hadn’t thought of that before.
Still looking at me, she adds, “North, she’s insane. Functionally insane, but still insane. She’s obsessed with you and I know what obsession does to a person. My existence is born from it because of the obsession of one person who could not let go of her jealousy and anger. Those emotions aren’t me, not anymore, but regardless it means I understand them.
“She doesn’t love you, North. She’s obsessed with you. And even if she’s standing down, she’s making plans. Insane plans that won’t ever work – even if I wasn’t in the picture, it wouldn’t matter – because she doesn’t want you, she wants her idea of you. And when that idea never comes to fruition, it’s a short step from obsession to repulsion.” She leans into me again. “I can protect you every way I can, but even I can’t be everywhere at once.”
“So do you really think that she’s after me?”
“I can get into people’s dreams, remember? Dreams reveal a lot, sometimes more than folks will ever admit to, even themselves, in the waking light.” I get ready to make a comment at that, but then she stops me short with her next words: “But her dreams…they’re murky, muddled. Insensate, like a Dali painting got mashed up with Jackson Pollack. But the one thing I can see in them is what she does with you.”
I then feel wetness on my chest and that tears into my heart. I don’t want to know anything further. In my time as a journalist, I’ve read more than a few wire reports that make my stomach churn, and I’ve even done a few interviews that have left me with a few nightmares. And then there’s the nightmares of my own that I lived with, those empty years that were caused by a man who loved his niece’s money more than he ever loved her. My love paid the price because of it.
And now the other woman in my life is paying a price because of some nutjob.
“Let’s go home,” she sobs into my shirt and I nod. A second later, reality warps around us and the outdoor night of Long Beach is immediately traded for our home. I reach up and pick Moon up and carry her to our bedroom. She acquiesces and doesn’t say anything, instead just holding me.
Probably for the first night in a while she’s sleeping in her human form. I think it’s because she wants to be closer to me that way. She doesn’t have to, but I appreciate the gesture more than I can say. She wants to be with me. And I want to be with her.
I think about the ring that I have stashed in a secret lock box in the garage that Arturia set up for me. After we got that, both she and Katie taught me a few mind tricks that I can keep things private from Moon; not that she would go digging, but sometimes it’s natural to let things out. And given that my girl pointed out rightly that dreams tend to release things that even your conscious mind wouldn’t, well, it’s hard to keep a secret.
Still, I just have to wait a few more months….
Well, this is familiar: the morning is Belgian waffles served with a side of I-ain’t-saying-shit. Things are obviously different between us now than they were back then, but there’s just something about this morning that’s so reminiscent of that morning back then.
“I made an ass of myself last night, didn’t I?” she says to me as a coffee cup floats daintily in the air, next to her head. She picked up the WORLD’S GREATEST ALICORN mug at one of those fantasy stores that thought of her species as fictional, but I suppose she’s gotten the last laugh out of things.
I don’t say anything, mainly because I don’t agree, though I suspect any comment I make will be firmly in can-and-will-be-used-against-me territory. “Did we leave your car there overnight?”
“No, I teleported it into the driveway shortly after we got home,” she responds, floating a forkful of syrup-drenched foodstuff towards her muzzle. “And I see you’re ignoring my question.”
Well, in for a penny, in for a pound, I guess. “It was worth ignoring. Where on earth did you get the idea that being worried about me is making an ass out of yourself? You’re my girlfriend, Moon. It’s only natural that you’re going to have those concerns, especially after everything I told you about what happened to Rachel and your own experiences, both with Luna and running into Destiny.”
“But I should know better. I know I can protect you from her—”
“And that’s where you’re going wrong, hon. You know you can protect me from her, but you don’t have to. It means a lot to me that you want to, really. But I think you’re letting your fears get ahead of you. She’s only a college girl with some freaky habits and an obsession. This isn’t a horror film we’re living in.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she tells me. I can tell she’s not convinced, though.
“Well, if it helps, she’s in Las Vegas, which is a couple hundred miles away, and her, uh, ‘gig’ is going to be for the rest of the month, so she’s not going to be back in town for at least a few more weeks, okay? I’ll be fine and you know it.” I reach over the table and take one of her hooves in my hand. “So can we just calm down and get back to normal with our lives?”
A few minutes later I have my answer as she teleports us both to the bed.
“We can just microwave breakfast, right?” she coos.
I swear, this girl of mine….
A couple of hours (and one satisfied alicorn) later, I’m at the Technon offices. The staff is scrambling around and doing their job and I give a brief wave to Dana, our receptionist, as I walk in. “So, anything up?”
“Yup,” she says, handing me a small stack of papers, likely messages for people I need to call or anything. “There’s also the interview for that Cherry had originally set up in about an hour, but you’ll have to take over.”
“Oh?” I guess Cherry forgot to tell me about that one, but given how busy we’ve been as of late, I can’t really blame her for that.
“Yeah. Journalist out of the blue wants to apply for a position here. I don’t know the full details, since apparently she talked to Cherry personally,” Dana says by way of apology.
“Do we have a resume or anything like that?” I ask and for that answer I get a shake of the head. Typically Dana’s on the ball about those sort of things, so for her not to have anything means that this was probably Cherry doing a favor for someone and wasn’t expecting it, especially since she didn’t mention anything to me about it.
“Fair enough; I’ll deal with it when I deal with it,” I assure her. “Anything else?”
“Waleed said he sent you an email about his new video article. Wants to make sure it passes muster before he puts it up on the site,” she adds to me.
“Yeah, I’ll take a look at it.” I give her a smile and then head towards my office. Got a lot of work to do today.
About an hour after looking at Waleed’s video, I sign off on it and send him an email congratulating him on the work. It’s a solid effort and I’m glad we put him where he can do our site the most good. I then turn to focus on an expense report that Diego submitted – apparently he just got back from his trip to Germany for the Nürburgring article, so I’m expecting to see a hefty article on cars that go really, really fast soon – and start going over the math when there’s a knock at the door.
Dana pokes her head in. “Sorry to bother you, North, but the appointment’s here.”
I toss the remaining debris of my coffee run into the trash and try to make my desk look somewhat presentable, standing up just in time to see a familiar face escorted in by Dana.
“Uh, hi,” Jessica Chan says to me as she stands right there in the doorway to my office.
Boy, is this awkward.
Five minutes later, we’re downstairs at Mugg’d, one of the best places for coffee in LA, bar none. A lot of places – especially cities whose names rhyme with “Beattle” – say that LA’s not a coffee town. They’re absolutely wrong on that. LA is a coffee town. We’re just a mocha latte Frappuccino kind of place as opposed to, say, a “cuppa kawfee” sort of place. Nothing wrong with the latter, nothing wrong with the former. It’s just the way things go; everyone likes their little dosages of brown joy in their own way. Hell, my sister Carrie hates coffee but will practically down bottles of Coke to the point that her blood is partially made over in Atlanta.
In any case, I’m enjoying their typical white chocolate honey mocha, while Jess is sipping from a vanilla chai. Under normal circumstances, a lot of the staff holds meetings here at Mugg’d, because of the warm earth tone décor, the scent of coffee beans and the jazzy music that plays. I also like the fact that they aren’t trying to be Starbucks and so they know just about everyone on staff; in turn, we’ve practically made them the Semi-Official coffee brand of Technon.
But right now, as I set my cup down, I’m looking at a girl who I’ve only known in passing for a few and was going through a real bad time. And she’d even made a pass at me, probably more out of desperation and grief than anything else. Obviously I’m not going to hold that against her, but it makes me wonder why she wanted to talk to Cherry instead of me. Hell, I didn’t even know they knew each other!
“So, yeah, while I remembered you work at Technon,” she says with more than what seems to be a touch of embarrassment, if my guess is correct, “I didn’t want to come to you because of…well….”
“I wouldn’t have been offended,” I try to say in my best attempt at a comforting voice. Typically this works with both Carrie and Katie. Apparently not so much with Jess. Trying to salvage it, I decide to make a different play. “So you called Cherry?”
“I met her at a conference we were both working at a couple of years ago; we traded business cards and at the time that was that. I, uh, didn’t mention to you that I knew her because back when we first met my mind was elsewhere and so I didn’t make the connection. And to be honest, I didn’t even want to hit you up because I didn’t want to give you a guilt trip or anything like that.
“In any case, after everything that happened back in Reno with Alan? I needed to get away from there. Plus, I wanted to move away from TV for a while; small stations tend to be a very closed-loop community as opposed to network O&Os, which means that sooner or later, I’d run into Alan.” She took a drink of her coffee and she looked very fragile in that way; part of it all reminded me of what Katie went through.
“So I called an old college buddy of mine who lives in Montebello and I’m staying with her at the moment. After a day or so of surfing the net on her couch, that’s when I remembered about Technon. So I called Cherry because I wanted to see if she could help me get some connections around here.”
“Looking to get into tech journalism?” I ask.
“Not really. I wanted to see if Cherry had any contacts regarding companies that might be looking for flacks instead of hacks. Since my specialty is in televised journalism, I think I’d do better as a PR rep rather than a writer. Not that I’m bad at that, since I used to write some of the articles for my station’s website, but I think I want to try something different, you know?”
“Well, I think Cherry forgot your meeting, because she’s in New York this week and next, talking to investors.” I go over what I know and as I do, I can see the smile fade from Jess’ face. I think she genuinely thinks I don’t want to help her because of what happened, which is far from the truth. I would say she should know that, but then again, her trust in guys has got to be low thanks to that ex of hers.
“Great, just great. She’s the only real connection I had out here, and I really don’t want to move eastward. I mean, I’ve got some friends who work on for stations out on the East Coast, but I’m really more of a Western kind of girl, you know?”
I open my mouth to say something, but she cuts me off fast. “Look, North…I know what you’re going to say. It was my fault that I trusted Alan, and while I don’t hate all guys for getting screwed over, I don’t want you to feel responsible for my problems. It’s something that I need to do for myself, just like moving out here was something that I needed to do. Honestly, I would have moved here even if you didn’t live here already.” She flashes a smile and it’s the first genuine one I’ve seen on her face today. “So you can tell your girlfriend that you’re perfectly safe.”
I laugh at that. “Look, I already told her about what happened and she actually laughed about the whole thing,” I tell her. “What happened to you shouldn’t have, and you reacted like anyone would – that’s not your fault.”
“Well, to be fair, you are a good kisser.”
“TMI, Jess. In any case, while Cherry might not be able to give you a hand right now, I think I might have a contact for you, and one that would be right up your alley, too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Let me make a call and I’ll get it set up. You free for tonight?”
As Moon pores over Jess’ resume, I suddenly get the feeling that what I’ve done can be classified as a Really Bad Idea™. I mean, at the time, it seemed like a good idea; after all, it would give Moon a chance to step away from the practice for Pacific War that’s going down at the Planet, and if Jess is interested, the two of them could tour the construction that’s going on for Black Alicorn.
But now, here at Ruby’s, I’m beginning to think that maybe putting the two together is the exact opposite of two great things that go great together. So I pop another fry into my mouth and wait for whatever boom my dearest love is going to drop on this poor girl. The situation is needlessly tense, if you ask me, but then again, I’m the one who arranged this shindig, so ultimately, if anything, this is pretty much my fault.
Right now, Jess is looking at Moon with a mixture of…really, I can’t tell, go fig; as for my girl, she’s too busy reading the resume up and down and back again. I get that since Jess is an outside recommendation (and especially since I’m the one recommending her) that she wants to be sure that she’s the best fit for the job. Of course, I could be wrong about that and it could just be that Moon is sizing up yet another opponent. I keep telling her I have eyes for no one but her, but my dearest lady can be one jealous mare at times.
Yup, mare. I got used to that in the nearly two years we’ve known each other. That’s already one advantage that she has over everyone else: familiarity. When two people love each other, they’re completely focused on the kisses, the sighs and all the fun stuff that goes with it. But from my time with Rachel and my time now with Moon, it’s really familiarity that builds relationships. True love is when you’re not afraid to show the ugly and worst sides of yourself to the one you love. It was Rachel that taught me that and I’ve taken it to heart with my relationship with Moon.
Ironically, as I think about it, that’s probably why (in addition to everything else) Destiny and I would never click. She’s all about this perfect image of me, if Moon is right. She’s afraid to show her ugly facets, whether it’s her real name, the fact that she clearly dyes her hair and gets a booth tan, or anything like that. She’s obsessed with perfection and perfection isn’t a way to know other people – it’s a mask we wear for social acceptance.
But right now, Destiny isn’t my problem. Hoping this doesn’t turn into a metaphorical bloodbath, however, is.
“So….” Moon says, looking up from the resume and adjusting her glasses several uncomfortable minutes later, “You realize that if you take this job, you’re probably going to be in a very seat-of-your-pants situation. I wouldn’t even know what a communications director for a game company does, and while I can put you in touch with some of the folks I do know who would do it, I’m sure even they’re just as likely to say the job involves juggling chainsaws blindfolded.”
“Yup. I’ve been looking at some of the game sites on social media out there. Wow, some of these guys need to do their job, and some of them clearly aren’t getting paid enough. I would take it that we’d have to hit the ground running?”
“Well, right now Renaissance is running the Project Anateus communications and you’ll be taking that over. At the same time, we’ve also guaranteed as part of our agreement with the Vector Vixens that we’ll be handling their communications during the year of the turnover. It should also give you more than enough practice.”
“Seems fair enough. I’m not worried about being thrown in the deep end of the pool,” Jess tells her. “I could tell you some serious war stories about some of the things that I’ve had to deal with during my time in Reno but suffice to say that I’ve been around the block a few times.”
Moon smiles. “And I’m sure you’ll be around a few more.” She offers her hand. “So, when can you start?”
I let go of a breath I hadn’t even realize I’d been holding. Looks like the apocalypse can be put off for another five minutes.
Instead, as we head home, I’m treated to a pouting Moon. “I’m hurt that you actually thought I was going to hurt your girlfriend, North,” she chides me.
I remind her, “Um…aren’t you my girlfriend?” and she laughs at the whole thing.
“No, I’m your fillyfriend. We made an agreement to trade you off on alternating days and weekends. I get to keep you on holidays in the middle of the week and you get to go with whoever has the weekend if a holiday falls on a Monday or Friday.” I look at her in silence for a second before she laughs again and adds, “Gotcha.”
“Oh, and for a second, I thought you were sending me out to stud.”
“You should know by now that no matter how many girls you’re building for this non-harem of yours, you only have one girl to keep busy,” she coos.
“Girl this time?”
“Always your girl, North. I’m always your girl.”