Chapter 29: Why Can’t We Be Friends?

Los Angeles, California

October 14, 2000

Jake’s plane touched down at 2:10 PM at Whiteman Airport on this smoggy autumn day. Jake was in the pilot’s seat and Meghan sat in the copilot’s seat—a rare treat for her. The Nerdlys, including Kelvin, were in the seats behind them. It was the first trip back to Los Angeles that any of them had made since returning to San Luis Obispo after the tour nearly seven weeks before. Laura had elected not to make the trip with them, her reasoning being that if she just stayed home with Caydee there would not be as much of a transportation hassle on the other end. Jake knew that was not the real reason, however. It was time for the big quarterly meeting of the KVA partners, which meant Celia would be in attendance. Laura, still quite depressed over Celia’s breakup with them, thought it would be too painful to see her. Jake understood. He would have chosen to stay home as well if that had been an option.

He taxied over to the hangar and parked the aircraft, powering it down. He unstrapped from his seat and then walked over and opened the door and folded down the steps. Meghan followed him out and then the Nerdlys brought up the rear. Meghan was looking eagerly down the passageway between the hangar buildings.

“We got in a little early thanks to that tailwind,” Jake told her. “I’m sure he’ll be here in a few minutes.”

“I know,” she chirped, trying to sound casual. The person she was looking for was Massa. The two of them had stayed in touch by phone, email, and computer chat after returning home—generally talking to each other in one form or the other at least once a day—but had not actually seen each other in the flesh. When Meghan found out that Jake would be flying to LA for two days for the meeting, she had asked if she could tag along. She and Massa were going to see a movie and then have dinner together. Massa would then take her back to the Granada Hills house where she and the Nerdlys would occupy the guest bedrooms.

Everyone unloaded their overnight bags from the cargo compartment and set them on the ground. Jake opened the hangar door. Inside the hangar was his F-150 pickup hooked to a trickle charger. The truck fired up right away and he pulled it out of the hangar. He did not have a tug at this end of the journey because he usually did not park the plane in the hangar. He therefore enlisted all of his passengers (even Kelvin) to help him push the aircraft backwards into the hangar. It was a little bit of an effort and everyone was panting a bit by the time they finished the job.

“Oh, now he shows up, after we’re done,” Jake said as he spotted a black vehicle driving slowly toward them. It was a brand-new 2000 Audi TT convertible—the top up currently. Massa had splurged a little with his tour earnings.

“I believe it unlikely that his timing to arrive after the completion of the task is deliberate,” Kelvin said. “It is more likely due to the discrepancy between your estimated time of arrival and our actual arrival six minutes prior to that time.”

“Uh ... yeah, K-dude,” Jake said, smiling. “Good use of the Occam’s Razor principle there.”

“Thank you,” Kelvin said, pleased with the praise.

Massa parked his new car just in front of Jake’s truck and then got out. He was dressed rather snazzily in a pair of dress slacks and a button-up shirt with a little skinny tie. Meghan, who was dressed rather nicely herself in a skirt and blouse, smiled radiantly when she saw him. Jake wondered for the hundredth time just what the deal was between the two of them. It was quite obvious that they had strong feelings for each other but they had both spent the entire tour hooking up with other people and had never seemed to have gotten together themselves. Oh well, he thought with a shrug. None of my business.

“Massa!” Jake greeted. “How the hell are you?”

“Hi, Jake,” the violinist said shyly. “I’m doing good.”

“I like your new wheels,” he said, holding out his hand.

Massa shook with him. “It was time to treat myself,” he said. “I had so much money in the bank after the tour, I just decided to get the car I wanted.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that at all,” Jake told him. “Unless your last name is Yamashito, of course.”

“How’s that?” Massa asked.

“Never mind,” Jake said. “We’ll be dealing with a Yamashito soon enough.”

Massa shook hands with the Nerdlys, including Kelvin, before finally making his way to Meghan. They looked at each other shyly for a moment, muttering simple hellos but making no effort to touch each other.

“For Christ’s sake, Massa, give her a hug,” Jake told him. “That is the appropriate ritual in this circumstance.”

Massa blushed but took his advice. He stepped forward and the two of them embraced each other warmly. Meghan flushed a bit as well.

“There, was that so hard?” Jake asked.

“Kind of,” Massa admitted.

“All right then,” Jake said. He then turned to Meghan. “You got your key to the Granada Hills pad?”

“It’s in my purse,” she confirmed.

“And you remember how to get there? And the alarm code?”

“I do,” she said.

“Fair enough,” Jake said. “Have fun, you two. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Uhh ... okay,” Massa said.

Jake chuckled. “That’s really not saying much, of course, because I’ve done a lot.”

“Like what?” Kelvin asked.

“Maybe I’ll tell you when you’re older, K-dude,” Jake said.

“I would prefer you don’t,” Sharon said.

The two youngsters left a minute later. Jake noted that Massa was at least suave enough to load Meghan’s bag into the trunk for her and then open her door so she could get in. Maybe it wasn’t a hopeless cause after all.

Jake closed and locked the hangar door and everyone piled into the truck, Kelvin and Sharon sitting in the back seat. Jake drove out of the airport and headed for Interstate 5 south for the trip to Pauline’s house in the Silver Lake neighborhood of LA. As he drove, his sense of anxiety began to ramp up. He had not seen or talked to Celia since they had all said goodbye at LAX after getting off the tour plane for the final time. Did she hate him now? Was she feeling as sad as he and Laura were? Was she already over them? Had she already found someone else? Was she going to ask them to give her her share of KVA holdings and wish them a good life?

“You’re worried it will be awkward seeing Celia again?” Nerdly asked quietly.

Jake looked over at him. Neither he or Laura had told Nerdly that the relationship between themselves and Celia had ended with the tour, but it did not take a rocket scientist to figure it out. The Nerdlys lived in the same general area as the Kingsleys now and the two families socialized frequently. It would have been hard for them not to notice that Celia—who had been pretty much living with the Kingsleys before she went out on her tour—was never there anymore.

“A little bit,” he said.

“She is probably just as anxious as you are,” Nerdly suggested.

Jake thought about that for a moment and then nodded. That had simply not occurred to him. “Maybe,” he said.

“Whatever happened with the personal relationship between you, I’m sure the professional relationship we all share remains fluent and solid,” Nerdly said.

“Hopefully that is the case,” Jake said.

The rest of the ride passed mostly in silence. Since it was a Saturday, traffic was not all that bad and they made the trip in only twenty-five minutes. They arrived a little earlier than planned and Celia’s Mercedes was not yet parked in front of the house. They left their baggage in the truck and walked up to the door.

“Hey, bro,” Pauline greeted when she opened the door to his knock. “Good to see you.”

He gave her a hug and then let her do the same for all three Nerdlys. Tabby, meanwhile, rushed over to greet him. “Uncle Jay!” she said happily, leaping into his arms. He gave her a hug and few kisses on the cheek.

“Where’s Aunt Laura and Caydee?” Tabby asked.

“They stayed home for this one,” Jake told her.

“Awww,” she said, disappointed. She really loved Aunt Laura and especially loved cousin Caydee. And she had not seen either of them in almost six months now.

“They’ll come down for the next trip,” Jake promised. “Or maybe you and your Mommy can come up and visit us sometime soon.”

“Cool!” she said. She liked flying in Uncle Jay’s plane and she really liked staying in his house on the cliff.

While Tabby and Kelvin greeted each other—they were pretty good friends as well, even if Tabby did not understand half of what Kelvin said to her—Jake turned back to his sister. “Are we the first ones here?”

“No, Jill is here,” Pauline said. “The limo dropped her off about twenty minutes ago. She has a whole briefcase full of papers and graphs and charts and shit.”

“I kind of figured she would,” Jake said with a sigh. After all, the third quarter of the year 2000 had ended two weeks before. Thus, the meeting they were having now.

“Celia should be here soon,” Pauline said.

“Probably,” Jake agreed.

“Is ... uh ... everything going to be okay between you two?” Pauline asked quietly. Though no one had told her about the severance of the relationship between the Kingsleys and Celia, she seemingly knew about it anyway.

“Probably,” he said again.

She gave him a sympathetic smile. “Okay then,” she said. “Do you want a drink?”

“Maybe a beer,” he said.

“I’ll go grab you one. Jill’s in the dining room. Why don’t you go say hello?”

Jake and the Nerdlys made their way into the dining room. Jill was sitting when they entered, her glasses on her face, her requisite professional slacks and business blouse covering her body. When she stood to greet them, however, it was quite apparent that there was a prominent bulge in her belly region.

“Look at you, my twin,” Jake said with a smile. “Out here perpetuating your genetic code!”

Jill smiled and walked over to hug him. Ever since getting married, she smiled more and was more giving of friendly affection. “It’s good to see you, Jake,” she told him. She then hugged Nerdly and then Sharon.

“I was so excited for you when I heard the news,” Sharon told her. “How far along are you now?”

“Twenty weeks yesterday,” Jill said. “I’m due on March 4^th.”

“No kidding?” Jake asked. “It you stretch it three more days from there, you could deliver on our birthday.”

“That thought has occurred to me,” she said with a little giggle—again, a completely foreign sound from Jill’s lips.

“There must be something about mid-June that the Kingsleys and Yamashitos are fond of,” Jake pointed out.

“Is the doctor concerned about maternal age at all?” Nerdly asked, putting a bit of a damper on the discussion—as Nerdly could do.

“Uh ... not very much,” she said. “Yes, I’m forty years old, just like Jake, but I’m healthy and she doesn’t seem to think there will be any problems. She’s monitoring me a little closer than a twenty-five year old, but so far everything is checking out.”

“Do you know what it is?” Sharon asked, before her husband could ask another disturbing question.

She shook her head. “We’re going to be surprised,” she said.

Pauline returned with Jake’s beer. The three women then launched into a discussion about the trials and tribulations of pregnancy. Pauline retold the story of being just on the brink of delivery when the Northridge Earthquake hit the LA region and the desperate flight they had made to get her out of the earthquake zone before she went into labor. Tabby and Kelvin, meanwhile, were sitting behind Kelvin’s computer and he was showing her some of the websites he frequented.

The doorbell rang. Jake felt the little jolt of adrenaline again. He dumped some beer on it and then set the bottle down. Pauline gave him a little look of commiseration and then left the room to go answer the door. She returned a minute later with Celia in tow. The Venezuelan was dressed in a pair of jeans and spaghetti strap top. Her hair was down. She was just as beautiful as the last time Jake had seen her. He felt a strong sense of melancholy longing mixed with regret spread throughout his body. It really was kind of painful seeing her.

Celia made the rounds to everyone else first. She hugged Jill and congratulated her on her pregnancy. She hugged the Nerdlys and Tabby and Kelvin. Only then did she come over to Jake. They stood, looking at each other, a palpable sense of awkwardness between them.

“Hey, Rev,” she said softly.

“Hey, C,” he returned.

The moment stretched out a little longer and then Celia stepped forward and held out her arms. “Give me a hug,” she told him.

He did so, feeling her body push against him, her arms go around him. It was a genuine, affectionate Celia hug and it felt really good. He remembered all the times her body had been pushed against him in other circumstances—naked and sweaty circumstances.

“It’s good to see you,” Jake told her when the embrace ended. “You look good.”

“You as well,” she said softly. “How’s Teach and Caydee?”

“Getting by,” he said. “Caydee misses seeing you all the time.”

Celia gave a sad smile. “I miss seeing her too,” she said.

“Teach decided to skip the meeting?”

Jake nodded. “Yeah,” he said simply.

“That’s too bad,” Celia said.

“Well then,” Pauline said before things could get any more awkward, “everyone is here now. How about we get started?”

“Sounds good,” Celia said.

“Can I get you anything to drink, C?” Pauline asked.

“A glass of white wine would be amazing,” she said.

“Coming right up.”

She left to get Celia her wine and everyone else took a seat at the table. Jake sat across from Celia, next to Nerdly. Jill sat next to Celia and opened up her briefcase. She then began to remove and distribute her signature stapled report sheets for their perusal. When Pauline returned, she handed Celia her wine and then sat next to Jake.

“All right,” Jill said. “I have the quarterly reports here for the period between July 1 and September 30 of 2000. Thanks to the simultaneous revenue producing tours by Jake, Matt Tisdale in Asia, and V-tach in the US, coupled with impressive promotional period CD sales of Winter Frost, V-tach II, and Brainwash III, this has been one of KVA’s best quarters to date.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Jake said.

Jill went over the specifics of their income stream for the past three months, breaking it down into categories. By a significant margin, touring income was the biggest contributor, bringing in a total of twenty-three million dollars when National’s share was subtracted—even though Jake and Matt had both wrapped up and had not toured at all in the month of September. This did not mean that KVA got to keep all of that money, however. All of Jake’s tour income would remain intact, but they had to split the V-tach tour income fifty-fifty with V-tach and the Matt Tisdale tour income sixty-forty with Matt.

The next category of income was CD sales of all CDs on the label combined. Jill had them broken down by individual CDs and the most recently promoted—Winter Frost, V-tach II, and Brainwash III—accounted for eighty-two percent of all sales during the quarter, Brainwash selling the most, Jake the second-most by a narrow margin, and V-tach II sliding in just behind Jake. Celia’s Living in Limbo and Matt’s Faithless accounted for another ten percent, still respectable even though both were well past the promotional period. After the royalties for the two record companies and Obie II were deducted, the total came to just over eleven million dollars. From that eleven million, KVA would pay the royalties to Matt, the members of Brainwash, the members of V-tach, Cypress High School, and all the other various musicians they had promised royalties to over the years. Even Laura still got one percent from the Celia Valdez albums she had worked on over the years and a quarter percent from Jake’s first release before they had gotten married and combined their finances. Since Jake and Celia were part of KVA itself, they did not take royalties for their own CDs, so that left KVA with just a little less than five million in free and clear CD revenue from the quarter.

“Not too bad,” Jake said appreciably.

“I must concur,” Jill said. “When you add in all of the other incidentals, we come to the total of twenty-nine million, two hundred eighteen thousand, six hundred and sixty-three dollars, and forty-two cents in quarterly revenue.

“That’s a good quarterly revenue,” Pauline said with a smile.

“It is,” Jill agreed, “but don’t let us forget that revenue does not equal profit. Operating expenses are still quite considerable for this LLC. Of that twenty-nine point two million in revenue, a total of twelve million, four hundred eighty-six thousand, nine hundred and eleven dollars will be paid out as touring income payments for the musicians. That is, by far, the biggest operating expense that KVA has, but it far from being the only one. Now, granted, all of the touring expenses such as travel, hotels, food, entertainment, have already been accounted for in the touring calculations, so that is not a factor in this report. There is the ongoing construction of the studio building in Atascadero, however.”

“How is that going?” Celia asked Jake. “I haven’t been there since we were working on the Brainwash CD.”

“The construction and equipping of studios one and two are complete,” he said. “Studio three is complete as well but we have no plans to equip it anytime in the near future. Hell, we don’t even have plans for the equipped studios at the moment. Everyone is on hiatus. Anyway, they’re still working on the upstairs portion of the building, making it into living quarters for when we do have artists on site. Nerdly and I were out there the other day doing some mixing of the live tracks we recorded on tour, and they should be finished with that portion of the project by the end of the month. Next, they’ll start working on turning the old equipment and storage building into the rehearsal studio.”

“The ongoing construction expenses are considerable,” Jill said. “You paid the various contractors five hundred and sixteen thousand, four hundred eleven dollars, and ninety-six cents last quarter. That does not include the three-hundred and eighteen thousand, six hundred and twelve dollars we paid to the security contractor for their services. Add in the nine thousand, eight hundred, and sixty-two dollars and twelve cents for utilities, taxes, and business licensing, and we’re now at almost eight hundred and fifty-thousand dollars this quarter for the site.”

“That is negligible considering the amount of revenue that building is responsible for,” Pauline said. “Brainwash recorded their CD in that studio and they pulled in considerably much more CD revenue than the operating expenses. And everything else from now forward will be rehearsed and recorded and produced there. When you take that studio as a whole, we’re operating well in the black with it at this point, aren’t we?”

“Not in the strict sense of the word,” the accountant said. “Remember, the property itself cost two million dollars. The equipment has cost another two million dollars. The construction, security, and everything else has run another two million to this point. That’s over six million dollars. Brainwash II is, so far, the only CD that has been produced at the facility. To this point, it has not provided six million dollars worth of free and clear income to KVA LLC. That means, technically, the studio, when considered alone, is still operating in the red.”

“How much has Brainwash II given us total?” Celia asked.

“Uh ... well, I don’t have the exact figure in front of me,” Jill said, “but somewhere in the vicinity of four point three million since the release for sale of the CD.”

“I don’t think that’s a very bad number, my twin,” Jake told her with a little roll of the eyes. “Once we produce something else in there, we’ll sail right on past in the first quarter of release.”

“When will that be?” Jill wanted to know.

“I don’t know,” Jake said. “I just came off tour and I’m not ready to start putting together anything new just yet. V-tach might want to start working something else up soon, but I haven’t asked them. Matt sounds like he could really use a little break himself. What about you, C?”

“I am still quite fried on everything music related,” she said. “I’ve hardly even picked up my guitar since I came home.”

“So ... no production anytime soon then?” Jill asked.

“Don’t worry,” Jake said. “We’ll get back to it eventually. We’re musicians, after all, and the need to get our work out into the world is a big part of who we are.”

“Okay,” Jill said slowly. “In any case, there is one other major expense related to the studio that I haven’t talked about yet.”

“The vineyard,” Jake said knowingly.

“The vineyard,” she confirmed. “This last quarter KVA spent three-hundred twenty-four thousand, one hundred, and twenty-eight dollars and sixty-seven cents on maintenance and operation of that vineyard.”

“That’s only half of what it’s actually costing,” Jake said. “Andre is picking up the other half.”

“I understand that,” Jill said. “I also understand that the vineyard is supposed to be a revenue-generating operation of the facility. To this point, that vineyard has not produced a single penny of revenue.”

“Well ... yeah,” Jake said. “That’s because it takes a few years to turn it around into a vineyard that puts out quality grapes. Once that happens, we’ll contract with a winemaker and start producing KVA wine, endorsed by me and Celia and Nerdly, that we can sell for premium money.”

“I spoke with Ian, the viticulturist we hired just last week,” Nerdly put in. “This year’s crop is now being harvested.”

“I am aware of that,” Jill said sourly. “Jake recently authorized an expense of sixty-eight thousand dollars for temporary labor costs for that harvest.”

“You have to hand pick grapes like ours,” Jake said. “Ian insisted on it. That’s the best way to get only the quality grapes into the production. In order to hand pick, you have to contract for a crew to do it. That’s how much it costs for the amount we have this year. And, again, Andre is paying for half of it.”

“Then you’ll be able to make profit of some sort from the grapes being harvested?” Jill asked.

“Well ... revenue anyway,” Jake said. “We had to dump all of last year’s harvest because of the quality, but Ian did that grafting thing to all the vines in the off-season. They didn’t produce all that much this first year—that’s kind of typical he says—but what we have is quality enough to sell to one of the bulk producers. It won’t cover the operating expenses, but it’ll bring in some money. And next year we should get a decent sized harvest. That’s when we start making our own wine.”

“But you won’t be able to sell that wine for several years, right?” Jill asked.

“That’s right,” Jake said. “It has to age and all that first. This is a long-term project. Eventually, that vineyard will turn a nice profit for KVA.”

“Is it really worth all the effort?” Jill asked. This vineyard thing went against all of her instincts as a money manager.

“In the long run it will be,” Jake said. “It’s never going to pull in as much as our CDs and touring revenue, but it’ll add to the bottom line once it’s up and running. That’s the hope anyway.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to just not do it?” Jill asked.

“Maybe, but that would not be neighborly of us,” Jake said. “As Andre explained to me when we decided to start this whole deal, untended vines are a major eyesore. It benefits Andre and us to keep the fields tended and maintained. If we’re going to do it anyway, why not do it with style and actually produce a quality product?”

“Because it’s expensive,” Jill said. “It would have been cheaper to just rip out all of the old vines, sterilize the soil, and put artificial vines in all of the fields.”

“That would be dishonest,” Jake said, shaking his head. “The equivalent of laying down some live tracks in a studio, overdubbing them, and then adding in artificial audience sounds so you could sell it as a live album.”

“I don’t think that’s exactly the same thing, Jake,” she said.

“I do,” Jake countered. “We all voted unanimously back at the beginning to go down the high-class wine route with the vineyard. It’s in progress and will remain in progress.”

She sighed. “As you wish,” she said. “So ... anyway, the studio and the vineyard are a significant operating expense against KVA’s revenue, but certainly not the only ones. There is also the ongoing operation of the two rehearsal warehouses in the valley and the security personnel that are assigned there. There is the maintenance and upkeep of the house in Coos Bay—a house you will not even be using anymore since you have your own studio now but that you insist upon keeping as a KVA asset.”

“It’s nice to keep an oceanfront pad in Oregon that any of us can use if we want to,” Jake said.

“That’s right,” Celia agreed—she had also been vehemently opposed to putting that house on the market when Jill had first brought it up when the new studio became operational. “I love that house. There are a lot of good memories there. I plan to visit it several times a year when I need to get away.”

“We were in favor of selling the house when we opened the new studio,” Nerdly said, “but my voice was the only opposing one. The majority has spoken and Sharon and I stand by their decision.”

“All right,” Jill said, sighing again. “Point taken. At least the asset itself is paid off and you only have to pay for taxes and maintenance.”

“Exactly,” Jake said. “And it’s only going to increase in value over time, right?”

“That’s right,” Jill agreed. “But that also means the property taxes will go up over time as well. And the increase in value does you no good if you don’t ever plan to sell it.”

“We’re keeping it,” Pauline said. “What else do we have for operational costs?”

“The studio and the Oregon house are the two big ones this quarter,” Jill said. “In other quarters, business travel and lodging was a major expense to talk about since you all insist on flying first-class or private and then staying in hideously expensive hotel rooms whenever you are going somewhere on KVA business. This last quarter, however, those expenses were almost nothing. Everyone was on tour and those travel and lodging expenses were part of the tour budget. And you have not had to fly the members of Brainwash out here and lodge them in hotels and rent minivans and pay for childcare services. And since no one has been recording or rehearsing over the quarter, there are no catering and extra security expenses. All of that is a good thing. That leaves only the basic operational expenses of business taxes on the LLC itself; maintenance, utilities, and leasing fees on the main office building; salary and benefits for the receptionist; the retainer for the law firm you do business with; and, of course, fees for the firm of Yamashito, Yamashito, and Yamashito for us to figure all of this out for you.”

“That brings us to how much in operating expenses?” asked Celia. The information was in her packet, but, like Jake, she was not very adept at ferreting it out at a glance.

“Fourteen million, sixty-three thousand, nine hundred fourteen dollars and eighty-two cents,” Jill said. “When you subtract that number from the quarterly revenue, KVA ends up with fifteen million, one hundred fifty-four thousand, seven hundred forty-eight dollars and sixty cents in quarterly profit.”

“Wow,” Jake said appreciably.

“It really is one of our best quarters yet,” Nerdly said.

“Fifteen million dollars?” Celia asked. “And you’re sitting there nickel and diming us about fifteen thousand a year for the house in Oregon?”

“It’s fifteen thousand dollars that could have been tacked onto your profit number,” Jill said huffily. “And don’t forget, this amount is pre-tax. Between state and federal, fully forty-four percent of that income is gone. Remember, no matter how much we leave in KVA’s accounts, each of you are responsible for paying one quarter of the total taxes.”

“We’re aware of that,” Jake said. She went over this point at every single quarterly meeting. KVA, as a limited liability company, utilized pass-through taxation, which meant that the partners were equally liable for paying the income taxes as part of their personal tax obligations—and were all equally responsible if any portion of those taxes were not accounted for and paid in full. And at this income level they were required to pay the taxes quarterly as the money came in. LLC members who made over two million dollars a year did not get the choice to simply fill out their tax forms and mail in a check on April 15^th each year.

“I’m assuming that you would like to keep the distribution as we normally do,” Jill said.