Something was definitely up. It was unusual to see my father home this early. Recently promoted to Head of Production, he’d been working around the clock bringing several runaway film shoots back on time and within budget. According to Daddy, Hollywood was on a cocaine binge. The studio’s directors had fallen weeks behind, turning in dailies with scenes missing or out of focus and sync. Daddy was a numbers man and a square. He had never so much as taken a hit off a joint, and though he enjoyed his nightly martini, he never got drunk. He even turned down invitations to party at the Playboy mansion. My father’s drug was power and with this promotion, he had a “crapload.”

Daddy gestured for me to sit next to Anna, who was already seated in one of two conference chairs.

“Ladies,” he said, thrumming his fingers on his desk. “It takes me an hour on a good day with no traffic, not to mention fires or mudslides, to get to my office. By moving to the city, I can cut that figure by two-thirds. That gives me an extra hour and a half of work each day, which could double the payoff in productivity. I can get ten times what I paid for this house and build a goddamn mansion in Beverly Hills for a fifth of what it costs to live here.”

He lifted slightly from his seat, pulling his silk robe out from where it had become stuck up under his backside.

“Besides,” he pointed his martini at me, “you’re almost thirteen. I don’t want you growing up in a place where people smoke pot, surf all day, and get skin cancer. Anna, you’ll be closer to your friends and the shops, and the real estate agent I’ve been talking to said there’s a Gelson’s with a produce department that beats the crap out of the Mayfair.”

Anna raised her professionally arched eyebrows but stayed silent. Daddy swiveled his chair toward his desk. When he swiveled back, the martini was gone, and he was twirling a pencil.

“It should take us a month to find a place, a month to pack—ample time, ample time. I’m sure you will both agree that ultimately, this arrangement is of benefit to us all.” He rose from his chair. I thought we all might shake hands, but Daddy closed the deal with a courtesy smile. Suppressing a burp, he pulled his robe tight around the fleshy part of his belly and went upstairs. A moment later, the beginning of Johnny Carson’s monologue filtered down to where Anna and I still sat.