They drove in companionable silence for a while, just enjoying the smoggy air in their faces, the warmth of the summer morning sun on their backs. Jake took them through the interchange for Interstate 5 and into the San Fernando Valley, putting them in the fast lane and keeping their speed pegged at 75 miles per hour.
"So how are things going with you and your label?" Mindy asked as the traffic began to thin out a little. "Any signs of them giving in yet?"
"Not yet," he replied. "Acardio has called me up a few times, threatening me with everything he can think of to threaten me with. He seems particularly fond of telling me I'll be working as a portable lavatory maintenance technician at various construction sites throughout the greater Los Angeles area."
She laughed. "You have quite a way with words, Jake."
Jake shrugged. "It's a gift, I guess. Anyway, he's been calling up the other band members too, trying to do the old divide and conquer routine. We're all standing firm though."
"Are you?"
"Oh yes," he said. "The guys were willing to put up with the allowances and the assigned housing and the babysitters as long as they got to keep living the lifestyle, but when they wanted us to do those crappy songs, that crossed the line. There's no chink in our armor on this issue."
"You guys take your music very seriously, don't you?"
He nodded. "More seriously than anything else in life," he said.
He took the Highway 14 exit and within minutes the bustling, overcrowded Los Angeles metropolitan area seemed to disappear around them as they headed northwest, into a canyon surrounded on both sides by rugged mountains. After about twenty miles Mindy directed him to turn right on a small, badly maintained, two-lane road. Here, as promised, Jake got to experience the handling of the Porsche as they twisted and turned upwards, into the mountains. His ears began to get stuffy and then popped as the altitude abruptly changed from near sea level to more than three thousand feet. The foliage turned from scrubrush and oaks to pine trees and redwoods. The smell changed from burned hydrocarbons to fresh, mountain-scented air.
"Isn't it beautiful up here?" Mindy asked him as he whisked around a fifteen mile per hour turn at thirty-five.
"It's gorgeous," he said. "You can almost forget that you're only a few miles from nasty old LA."
"It's a long drive into Hollywood but I'm glad to take it," she said. "I can feel my problems slipping away every time I drive home. It's like I leave them down below, you know what I mean?"
"I think I do," he said, smiling as they climbed higher and higher.
They turned off on another two-lane road, drove about two miles, and then pulled into an unmarked single-lane road cut through the thick pine trees. About a quarter mile down this road was a wrought iron gate. Mindy leaned forward and pushed a button on a remote control clipped to the driver's side sun visor. The gate swung slowly open. Jake drove through and it closed behind them.
He drove up to the top of a steep hill and the road made a sharp left. As he negotiated the turn, a large clearing opened up before them. In the midst of this clearing Mindy's house stood. It was a huge tri-level of classic Spanish architecture surrounded by a lush green lawn. Off to the side stood a smaller guest home and what appeared to be a stable.
"Here it is," Mindy said. "Home sweet home."
"Wow," Jake said, taking it in. "That's a nice pad."
"I had it custom built," she said. "I'm more proud of the land though. I own six hundred acres here. My property goes right to the edge of the Angeles National Forest."
"Not bad for a twenty year old," he said.
She shrugged. "It's my summer home," she said. "I keep a place on Molokai for the winter."
He parked the Porsche in a detached six-car garage. Parked in there with it was a Mercedes convertible, a Range Rover, and two horse trailers. They exited the vehicle and stepped out a door on the side of the garage. They walked up a cement path and entered the main house through a side door, which led into the kitchen.
A Hispanic woman of about thirty greeted them. She was dressed in blue jeans and a long T-shirt. She smiled when she saw Mindy enter.
"Carmella, this is Jake Kingsley," Mindy said to her. "The one I told you about."
"Welcome, Mr. Kingsley," Carmella said with a heavy Spanish accent. "I understand you are famous musician. Do you know Carlos?"
"Carlos?" Jake asked.
"Carlos Santana," she said. "He plays the guitar."
"No," Jake said. "I admire his music very much — I've even seen him in concert before — but I've never met him."
"Carlos is great musician," she said.
"I agree," Jake said truthfully.
"Did you enjoy the trip up the hill?"
"Uh... very much," Jake said.
Carmella turned to Mindy. "I have your picnic basket all packed, ma'am," she said. "And I gave it to Eduardo to mount to the saddle."
"Thank you, Carmella," Mindy said. "We'll be heading out soon. Why don't you go help Eduardo get the horses ready and then both of you can have some free time until we get back."
"Thank you, ma'am," Carmella said. She smiled at Jake one last time and then disappeared through the door.
"Your maid?" Jake asked when she was gone.
"Yes, and my cook. Her husband, Eduardo, takes care of the landscaping and the horses. They live in the guest quarters out back."
"Is there any chance they might... you know... tell your agent that we're together?"
She found this amusing. "No," she said. "I hired them myself and they are completely loyal to me. They'd better be for as much as I'm paying them."
"Wow, that's a concept," Jake said. "Servants that are actually loyal to you."
She gave him a tour of her house. It was even more impressive from the inside. She had an actual ballroom on the ground floor, a complete entertainment room, a library, a game room, and four large bedrooms, including a master bedroom of more than a thousand square feet that featured a large balcony that looked out over the mountains.
"I like it," Jake said when the tour was complete.
She shrugged modestly. "It's a far cry from the tract house I grew up in," she said. "Shall we go have our picnic now?"
"You bet."
"How are you at horseback riding?"
"I rode one once when I was a kid," he said.
She laughed. "I guess you'll need a few lessons then, won't you?"
Her stable was very modern, with climate control and automatic feeding and watering mechanisms. It contained eight horses. Two of them had been taken out of their stalls by Eduardo — a mid-thirties Hispanic man in a straw hat. His face was weathered but friendly. His grasp of the English language was almost non-existent. He simply smiled and nodded. If one wished to communicate with him, one had to go through Carmella.
"This is Annabelle," Mindy said, patting the nearer of the two horses. "You'll ride her. She's sweet and gentle."
"Okay," Jake said doubtfully. She was also huge, her massive shoulders nearly at the height of Jake's head.
"And this," Mindy said, walking to the other horse, "is Zarita. She's my pride and joy, aren't you, Zarita?" She patted her butt affectionately and then made a quick check of the picnic basket attached to her saddle.
Mindy thanked the two servants and dismissed them. She then led the two horses outside. "Climb aboard," she told Jake, smiling.
He managed to get into the saddle without too much difficulty. Mindy then climbed aboard her own mare and gave Jake a brief rundown on the command and control systems for operating these particular vehicles. They then started off on their ride, going at an easy walk out behind the back of the house to the large part of the clearing. Here, Mindy had him practice stopping and starting, turning and trotting until she deemed him skilled enough to take to the trail.
"Just follow me," she said, aiming Zarita towards an opening in the foliage at the back end of the clearing. Jake brought Annabelle around and got her moving. They entered a wooded trail that climbed gently before them.