The best part was getting to see the Zeiss 12-inch refracting telescope, where they allowed us to look at a star cluster. Then we climbed the stairs to the roof, where we got our first look at the view of the city. Behind us, on the hill, was the iconic Hollywood sign. As I looked down at the city, I could see mile upon mile of breathtaking views of the City of Angels, in all its glittering nighttime glory. I really hadn’t realized how big LA was until I saw the city lights disappear over the horizon.
On the way home, we stopped at one of those steak houses that featured an enormous buffet. It was probably the worst steak I’d ever had, but I filled up on the salad bar. We all agreed that we’d had a good day, and we made a point to thank Lexi for planning it and showing us the town she grew up in.
When we finally got home, I stepped off the bus and sniffed the air.
“I smell smoke,” I said with a little concern.
We all spread out and checked the house to make sure everything was okay.
“David, out here,” Sarah called from the back by the pool.
Everyone ran out back, and she pointed up the hill. Over the ridge, you could see a red glow.
“Wildfire,” Pam announced with concern on her face.
“Do we need to worry?” Brook asked.
“If the wind shifts and picks up, we might,” Lexi warned. “All you need is a combination of dry weather, drought, and strong winds, and you suddenly have the recipe for the perfect disaster. A small fire can transform a spark into a weeks- or months-long blaze that consumes tens of thousands of acres.”
“It hasn’t rained much since I’ve been here. I thought I read that LA is going through a drought,” I shared.
“They should warn us if we need to get out. If they do, take it seriously,” Lexi said.
“Yeah, this is one of the three things you worry about in LA,” Pam shared.
“What are the other two?” Tracy asked.
“Mudslides and earthquakes. I’m pretty sure God hates it here,” Pam said.
“It’s just karma. If you have perfect weather, then there has to be a trade-off,” I reasoned.
We all moved inside and turned on the TV to get some news. The commentators said it was suspected that a campfire was responsible. Four out of every five wildfires were man-made.
◊◊◊
Chapter 27 – Welcome to Hollywood Wednesday January 4
I got out of bed and stepped over to the window to check whether the fire had progressed. There was smoke rising over the ridge, but no visible flames. Low-flying planes had woken me at daybreak, and I saw one now make a run over the hogback and then pop back up like a crop duster over a field. They appeared to be dropping water to try to contain the inferno. If the fire came our way, it could destroy some of the most expensive homes in the LA area.
A glint of light from a tree in the backyard caught my eye. There was a massive camera clutched in a guy’s hands. That was when I realized I was standing in the window in all my glory. He stood up so he could get a good picture of me when I heard the tree branch crack. The idiot was going to kill himself.
“Son of a …” I said under my breath.
“What’s wrong?” Brook asked.
“Hit the alarm on your phone. We have a paparazzo in a tree.”
I watched as he lifted the camera to his face to start to take pictures. I stepped back to the side, so he didn’t catch any of the good stuff, or so I hoped. Then I heard the branch give way, and the photographer cried out. Shit! Heart pounding, I looked over and saw Brook had triggered the alarm app. A moment later, her phone rang.
“David says there’s a guy in a tree taking pictures,” she said to my security people.
I couldn’t believe that he would risk life and limb—and possibly jail time for criminal trespass—just to get a photograph of me through a window. He must be dead broke to go that far to sell that picture to one of the celebrity sites. I could see it now; they would have me plastered all over the net in no time. I peeked out, and he was rolling around on the ground, holding his ankle.
Brook took her ear from the phone.
“Where is he now?”
“Tell them the tree branch broke, and I think he hurt himself.”
Brook relayed the message.
“Good,” she said, and then looked at me. “Manaia is pulling into our driveway. Fritz says for you to stay inside and let him do his job.”
Our bedroom door burst open, and Cassidy was in full ninja mode.
“Get back from the window,” she ordered.
“The guy only has a camera,” I complained.
Cassidy must have realized I was naked because she suddenly blushed.
“Put some clothes on,” Brook ordered.
I kept my smart comments to myself and did as I was told. I grabbed a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and returned to the window where Cassidy and Brook were watching the action. Manaia was built like a linebacker, and the cameraman cowered with Manaia standing over him. Manaia pulled out zip ties and trussed him up. The paparazzo then got agitated when Manaia grabbed his camera and removed the memory card.
“He’s hot,” Cassidy said, referring to my security.
