Emmy And Me

We wound up going to New Orleans to watch Andy and the Rams beat the Saints for the NFC conference title, which was a lot of fun. We did some of the touristy things like taking a paddlewheel riverboat ride, eating beignets at the Cafe Du Monde and muffulettas at the Central Market, but we skipped the whole 'drunken stagger through the French Quarter at night' thing. Sure, we went to the Preservation Hall for the music, but we didn't drink much or stay late.

Jeremy was really twitchy the entire time we were out in public, which didn't make for a relaxing time for Emmy and me, either. As I'd said to Emmy before, simply having a very visible and menacing bodyguard helps keep a lot of issues from even starting. The fact that Jeremy was glowering at anyone who came within ten feet of us certainly did the trick there in New Orleans. The unfortunate side effect is that we didn't really get any of the sort of positive interactions that Emmy enjoyed so much- things like fans asking for selfies with her, or people asking about songs of hers they love. There was a very tangible barrier between Emmy and the public at large as a result of Jeremy's 'stay the F away' vibes, which, honestly, made being a tourist less agreeable.

Still, we had a good time, most especially because the Rams won in overtime and Andy was going to the Super Bowl. Andy was over the moon after the game and wanted to go out and party, but the coaches laid down the law and everybody was on the team plane back to Los Angeles within a couple of hours.

"We just beat the hometown heroes thanks to a bad call by the referees," Andy explained in the few minutes we had to talk. "NoLa isn't a particularly safe town in general, and tonight would be rough for anyone recognized as a Ram. In fact, Em, you probably shouldn't wear that jersey out in public."

We had no plans to go out bar-hopping or anything like that anyhow after the game- in fact, we had reservations for dinner at a recent James Beard Award-winning restaurant in the French Quarter, then to fly out of Lakefront Airport at ten.

Although I wasn't going to go in to the office the next day, Emmy had a doctor's appointment on Tuesday, so she wanted to be well-rested before going in.

"Thanks for agreeing to come to New Orleans," I said to Emmy as we settled in to our seats for the flight back to LA. The jet was mostly filled with people returning from the game, judging by the conversations around us, and there was definitely a party atmosphere.

"I enjoyed it very much," Emmy admitted. "I still do not understand the rules very well, but it is fun to watch anyhow."

"Want to go to the Super Bowl in two weeks?" I asked.

"Where will it be played?"

"No clue," I replied, but the guy in the seat behind us said it would be in Atlanta- he'd clearly overheard our discussion.

"I do not think I can return to Atlanta for a very long time, if ever," Emmy said, making a face.

"I'm with you on that," I agreed, and the subject was never brought up again.

I'd slept some on the flight, so when we landed in Burbank at six in the morning local time I was wide awake. After helping Emmy settle in to bed, I made my way to Clancy's Gym for a workout.

"You're later than usual," Eddie said as I walked in.

"Our plane only landed at six this morning," I said with a shrug. "I had to go home before coming here."

"Plane? Where'd you go? If you can even tell me, that is," Eddie said with a wry smile.

"New Orleans for the game," I told him. "Had to go watch my guys play."

"Must be nice," Eddie sighed. "I can barely afford nosebleed seats at the Coliseum."

"We watched the Dallas game from the owner's box, and you know what? You probably get a better view of the field from those nosebleed seats. At least you aren't looking through a window, anyhow, and the boxes are way up at the top, too."

"Yeah, but you're on the fifty yard line!" Eddie protested.

"Way, way high above the fifty," I countered.

"The beers are free, though, right?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah, the drinks are free," I admitted. "And the food is better than your typical overcooked hot dog. But really, you wind up actually doing most of your game-watching on the suite's big-screen TV. It's basically like a little bitty sports bar that just happens to be on the rim of the stadium."

"Way to crush a guy's dreams," Eddie said with a laugh.

"She does that on the regular," one of the gym's coaches said as he walked by.

"Yeah, that ain't no lie," Eddie agreed.

"Hey, Sid," I said, stopping the coach. "You taking on any privates these days? I've got a guy I might bring in here who could use some of your Muay Thai expertise."

"He a fighter?" Coach Sid asked.

"Well… I mean, yes and no. The thing is, he teaches some sort of karate variant at a dojo in Japan, so yes, he's trained and good at what he does, but…"

Nodding, Sid said, "Got it. Yeah, I could work him in, but Hell- you could work with him if he really wants a taste of a beatdown."

"Been there, done that," I said. "That's how I know he needs to break out of his style."

"Oh, man, I can only imagine what you'd do to some poor karate motherfucker who's never had an out-of-competion fight in his life," Sid said with a laugh.

"It wasn't pretty," I admitted. "But at least it was over quickly."

"I bet!" Sid said with a laugh like a bark.

"Well, the big challenge is gonna be that he doesn't speak English," I explained. "He'll be taking classes, but for right now assume he knows pretty much zero English at all."

Coach Sid sighed, letting out a big breath, then smiled sardonically. "You say that like these other apes in here can speak more than ten words," he said. "I can work with him, if he's willing to learn."

"He came here to the US to learn mixed martial arts after I showed him how useless his dojo work was against a well-rounded fighter," I said, shrugging. "He's motivated."

"Alright then. Bring him in and we'll get started. We'll figure out a schedule that works for everybody involved," Coach Sid said, and we bumped fists to seal the deal.

"So, what, you went to Japan, rocked this guy's world, and he said, 'Fuck it- I'm going to the US to train where you train'?"

"Yeah, more or less. The long version of the story is that his dad runs a dojo and he wanted to see if I lived up to my rep, so he arranged a bout with his son. I put Hoshi on the mat repeatedly, and when my business was done there he said he wanted to come here to train."

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

"You speak Japanese?" Eddie asked, surprised.

"Maybe ten words," I said with a laugh. "No, I had a translator with me. Some of the locals I was working with spoke English, too, so most of the time it wasn't a problem."

"But this guy isn't one of them?" Eddie asked for clarification. "That's gonna make signing him in a problem."

"I'll bring our translator for that first day," I said, realizing that it would be a good idea.

"So where is this Hoshi guy?"

"He's in New York with his dad right now."

"The dad that runs the dojo?" Eddie asked, showing that he'd paid attention.

"Yeah," I agreed. "He's an old-school ninja- I dragged him to New York to teach that stuff to my paramilitary hit squad."

"Of course!" Eddie laughed, grinning widely. "What other reason could there possibly be?"

Emmy and I took a day off to be there when Madison's race car was delivered. Gary Stamp, the manager I'd moved up from Temecula BMW, had suggested we make a big deal out of the occasion and I'd agreed, thinking that the dealership needed as much positive PR as possible. We had to show the local Porsche people that it really was under new ownership and management and we were going to run the place very differently than the way it had been under the previous crowd.

Madison was a real trooper, shaking hands and making small talk while wearing her Hollywood Porsche Nomex racing suit. She sat in the driver's seat for photos, and patiently explained to anybody that asked what all the controls were in the car. Of course, she hadn't seen it in person up until that morning, but all that time in the sim rig had paid off. I overheard her talking about the Porsche Cup race series to a middle-aged woman who was fascinated by the idea of a teenaged girl driver receiving professional support.

"I don't know if the dealership has any sort of ticket and travel packages to watch the races- I'll ask the owner," she told the woman, not realizing I was standing right behind her.

"You know, that's a great idea," I said, joining the conversation. Madison quickly introduced me to the woman as the new owner of Hollywood Porsche. "I'll go ahead right now and say that if you're interested, we'll put something together. There are a lot of variables- besides VIP tickets to the race and garage tours, what else would you like to see? Should we include hotel and airfare in the package, too?" I asked the woman, and soon we were involved in a discussion of possible tiers, from coach airline tickets and mid-price hotels at the bottom end to a fully luxe package that would include first-class travel, high-end hotel accommodation and full garage access.

"You could label them 'Enthusiast', and 'Supporter'," she suggested. I promised I'd get our promotions team working on it right away so we could gauge interest. Honestly, I didn't really expect that many people would want to shell out a bunch of money to go see Madison race, but it was a thought.

I'd managed to talk a handful of celebrities of one type or another to show up and mingle, so Emmy wasn't the only famous face in the crowd. Of course Teddy Bear was there and so was our neighbor Mitchell Wagner. Several players from the Rams were there, too, mostly just because I'd promised snacks.

This was an important step in our efforts to turn the dealership around, and it seemed to work. We sold a few cars, including a new Cayenne to Linda and Geoff. They had been talking about getting one for a long time, and I was happy to give them a killer deal.

Recognizing quite a few people from the Porsche Club dinners and meetup drives, I thanked them for coming to see what we were doing with the dealership. A couple of guys asked about allocated models and I had to disappoint them.

"Sorry," I said with a shrug. "This model year is already spoken for, but if you give me your names I'll make sure you go on the list for the new model year coming out. Also- and I don't want to give you any false hopes, but I've made it clear to the mothership that we'll take any and all allocated cars that slip through the cracks. I wish I could say otherwise, but that GT2 RS… that's going to be a no for this year. I do know that we're getting two Carrera Ts in the next two months and one of the buyers is waffling and dragging his feet on the configuration. If you're interested…"

The race car was going to be on display in the showroom through the weekend, then be taken to Oakland by Reggie's crew. They only had a few days to get it wrapped and set up for Madison before her first testing session at Buttonwillow. We'd picked that track for purely logistical reasons, since it was about equal distance between Lake Elsinore and Oakland. This cut down the travel time for the Track Club guys, allowing them more wrench time. The car came with baseline settings from the factory, but there was still a ton of setup for the race team crew and learning the car for Madison.

I was sorely tempted to have Joachim bring my BMW up for the testing day, but ultimately I decided that I'd only be a distraction for Madison as she got used to a brand new car. She needed an empty track to limit the variables.

Even knowing that my presence wasn't necessary in any way, I still went to watch and give moral support.

"I still can't believe all this," Madison said as the guys pulled the tire warmers and dropped the car. As she put her helmet on, she added, "It's like a dream."

Reggie had to help her with the HANS device since her Evo had never been equipped with one, but she was ready and waiting in the hot pit when the marshal gave her the green flag.

Lainey, Reggie and I made our way to the bleachers to watch Madison's first session in the Porsche, which looked fantastic in its baby blue and red colors. The black and gold leaf accents really made it pop in the sunlight, making me very glad we'd had a professional design the livery. It was showy, sure, but in a classy way and not gaudy at all. The noise, too- it was glorious. Much more raspy sounding and higher pitched than my BMW (or even my old GT-R), it sounded nice and angry once Madison got enough laps in to start to push.

We hustled back to the garage when Madison pulled in after ten laps or so. By the time we got there the car was already up and Madison had her helmet off and was drinking some Gatorade.

"Mom- it's so…" she said, at a loss for words. "It's so much work! It's so hard to drive compared to the EVO… But so fast! It's incredible!"

"You were looking really good out there, Mad," Lainey said with a smile. "Really good."

"I'm gonna be so beat up by the end of the day!" the girl groaned, flopping down into one of the folding chairs. Turning to me, she asked, "Is your BMW this hard to drive?"

"Dunno," I said with a shrug. "I haven't driven the Porsche, so I can't compare."

"But, I mean, you've driven the Nissan and the BMW, though, right? Are they both hard to drive?" Madison asked.

"I think I understand what you're asking, and yes, they're both really physical," I admitted.

"I think I'm gonna have to spend more time in the weight room," Madison said, taking another swig of the pale green drink.

"We can change some of that in the settings," Reggie volunteered, looking up from the laptop perched on the car's roof. "Dial up the steering assist a little, but it comes at a cost. The more assist, the less feeling you'll get."

"Can we try it just a little bit more than what it is now? The Off Ramp and Star Mazda are really hard for me- I feel like I'm gonna run wide off the track every lap," Madison said. "Maybe once I get used to it we can try backing it off a little."

"Today is all about getting the car fitted to you," Reggie said. "You gotta remember, though, this car isn't like your little Mitsu. This thing is so ridiculously configurable that it'd be easy to find our way into a setup that absolutely doesn't work at all, right? If we don't want to find ourselves way out in the rough we need to limit our adjustments to one thing at a time. So for now, we'll make a few basic changes," he said, waving at the laptop, "then, once we have a good baseline, then we can start playing around."

Madison stayed out for about half an hour on her second session, which set the pattern for the rest of the day. She needed the time off to recover, which was a little bit of a concern since the GT3 Cup races typically ran forty to forty-five minutes.

As the day went on Madison grew more accustomed to the car and the setup got dialed in closer and closer to what she needed. Thankfully this meant that each session out on the track became easier for her, even as she was growing more and more tired. To her credit, she toughed it out and ran all the way until the track went cold at five, which showed good fighting spirit.

"God, I am so tired," she groaned, draped like a rag doll in one of the folding chairs as the guys made their final adjustments before loading the car into the hauler.

"You've got a two and a half months to be ready for Barber," I reminded her. "You could build some solid fitness by then if you really buckle down."

"Easy for you to say," Madison said, rolling her eyes in the way only a teenaged girl can. "You're some kind of swole goddess of war or something. Us normal human beings don't bench press small cars, or whatever."

All I could do was laugh at that. "Look, some weight work would do you good, and so would some cardio. You need to be able to finish a forty-five minute race feeling strong, not completely wiped out. Being a swole goddess of war won't win you any races, but being a noodly goddess of the couch can lose them for you."

"No, I know," Madison agreed, pulling herself into a normal seating position. "It's not like I haven't been working out at all. I've been taking weight training for my PE class- I just need to up my game, that's all."

"Is your PE first or last period? Maybe you can get to school earlier or stay later to put in the extra work," I suggested.

"It's last period, but the football dorks take the gym over immediately afterwards," she replied, making a face.

"Do they kick everybody else out?"

"No, they don't actually do that, but they hog all the equipment," Madison explained.

"How about you drop that PE class and leave school early so you can hit the local LA Fitness, or whatever gym is convenient? I'll cover the membership costs."

"I can't. I take the school bus home."

"Well, you have your own street car now, don't you?" I pointed out. "Have Reggie convert it back to street-legal."