Chapter 4: Clearing the Air

San Luis Obispo, California

October 26, 2000

“Are you sure you have achieved a proper level of healing to accomplish this mission?” Nerdly asked Jake, concern plainly visible in his face. It was a valid concern. It had only been three days since Jake had been discharged from Cottage Hospital in Santa Barbara. He still had sutures in his chest wall, still had a broken rib and a hole in his scapula. And his energy level was not its usual self. Just pulling his airplane out of the hangar here at SLO Regional had visibly winded the singer and made him sweat.

“I’m sure,” Jake told his oldest friend, wiping at the layer of perspiration on his brow. “I’ve just been laying around on my ass too much these past few weeks. Getting shot by a psycho bitch takes a lot out of you.”

“I am forced to trust your judgement,” Nerdly told him. “I know you take aircraft safety seriously and would not endanger us by going up if you were unfit to do so.” He hesitated for a moment. “Right?”

“Right,” Jake assured him. “I’m just sucking wind a little, Nerdly. I’m not going to pass out behind the controls. Trust me.”

“Fair enough,” Nerdly said.

Jake pushed the aircraft tug back into the hangar, plugged it in, and then closed and locked the hangar door. He opened the main door to the aircraft and boarded it, flipping on the batteries and powering up the electronics. He checked the fuel display first and foremost. He could not remember how much fuel he had left in the tanks the last time he had landed. He had already formulated and filed his flight plan for the trip to Whiteman and knew that he was going to need a minimum of eleven hundred pounds of jet fuel to make the round trip with healthy emergency reserves on both ends. Currently there was just a hair over sixteen hundred pounds in the tanks. More than enough. “We won’t need to fuel up,” he told Nerdly. “Go ahead and strap in. I’ll do the walkaround real quick and we should be in the air well ahead of schedule.”

“Do you need any help?” Nerdly asked.

Jake shook his head. “The less distraction the better,” he said.

The walkaround took about five minutes. Jake pulled all of the pitot covers and stowed them. He shined a flashlight into the main tank to visually verify the presence of fuel in it. He looked at the tires, the flaps, the propellors, the engine exhaust outlets, the light covers. Everything was as it should be. Even this level of exertion still took a lot out of him. He continued to sweat and feel a little short of breath. I need to start doing my runs again, he thought. It’s amazing how fast you lose it.

He got inside the plane and pulled the door shut behind him, securing it. He sat down in the left side pilot’s seat and strapped in. He pulled up the preflight checklist on the flight computer and began to go through it, item by item, saying each item aloud as he completed it. Nerdly sat quietly next to him. He knew not to bother Jake during critical phases of the flight. The cockpit would be sterile until they were up above ten thousand feet.

Jake started the number one engine using battery power and the number two engine using power provided by engine number one. Once both were turning, he donned his headset and entered his flight plan into the flight management computer, including all the radio frequencies he would be needing. It did not take long to do this as the flight from KSBP to KWHP was one of the two most frequent he made (the other being the return trip). Once the data was in and the electronic map and the GPS updated, he contacted the clearance center and activated his flight plan. He now had thirty minutes to get into the air. He contacted the airport tower and asked for permission to taxi to Runway 29. Permission was granted and the route was given to him. He read it back to the ground controller and then released the brakes and throttled up a bit.

Ten minutes later, at 11:23 AM, the Avanti lifted into the sky. They climbed out toward Morro Bay, Jake retracting the flaps when they reached three thousand feet. When they were just above Morro Rock at the entrance to the harbor, he turned left, bringing them to a south-southeast heading. They climbed to eleven thousand feet in less than six minutes and Jake let the autopilot take the plane.

“It feels good to fly again,” he told Nerdly, announcing the end of the sterile cockpit period—at least until they started down.

“The thin air is not causing you distress?” Nerdly asked. He knew that Jake’s plane would pressurize to the equivalent of 8000 feet of surface altitude, which was only a little lower than Bogota level. That was thin air indeed for someone who had recently been shot through a lung and had a broken rib.

“So far, so good,” Jake said truthfully. He no longer felt short of breath and the sweat had dried on his skin (thanks partially to the air conditioning vent he had pointed toward him and turned to high). His wounds were aching pretty impressively though. There was a steady, throbbing pain that was centered just below his right armpit and radiating up into his neck and jaw. It was the worst the pain had been since he had been discharged. He figured it was because he had not taken one of the Norco pills or had any alcohol in the past twelve hours. Knowing he had to make a flight, he had not taken the usual morning pill or had his usual morning bloody Mary to chase it down. It was just as well. He really wanted to wean off of the pain pills as quickly as possible.

“We’ll get there well before the others, right?” Nerdly asked.

“At least fifteen minutes before them,” Jake confirmed.

The others were Coop and Matt Tisdale. Both of them were going to meet Jake and Nerdly at Whiteman Airport. Jake had talked to Coop and Charlie on the phone the day after he came home from the hospital and he had shared with them Matt’s suggestion that they get Intemperance back together. Both were enthusiastic about the plan, but were also quite dubious about whether they and Matt would be able to work together in a copacetic manner. There were an awful lot of bad feelings involved, particularly between Coop and Matt. The plan for the day was for Jake and Nerdly to meet the two of them at Whiteman airport, putting them face to face for the first time since they had met by chance in the studio up in Oregon while recording Matt and Celia’s last CDs. Then, the two of them had to be pried apart and separated before blows were thrown. They would just have to see how that went now. And then they would have to see how it went when they flew back together to SLO and met up with Charlie, who would be flying in from Hayward Airport aboard a private plane chartered by KVA.

“So...” Nerdly said after a few minutes of silence, “I hear you have not followed up with your ordered blood draw since returning.”

Jake looked over at him for a moment and sighed. “Et tu, Nerdly?” he asked, not having to wonder too much about how Nerdly knew this information. Laura had been nagging him about the lab draw for the past two days. Laura was quite close to Mrs. Nerdly. Mrs. Nerdly was married to Mr. Nerdly. They all talked to each other.

“Laura is worried about you,” Nerdly said. “She is unclear why you are hesitant to undergo the testing.”

“I’m not hesitant,” Jake said, “I just don’t see the point. I feel fine.”

“You don’t look like you’re feeling fine,” Nerdly replied. “Your color is pale, you get easily winded with minimal exertion, and you keep guarding the area of your recent injury.”

“That’s because I got shot in the freaking chest not too long ago,” Jake countered. “I’m still healing.”

“True, but your white blood cell count was elevated upon discharge, was it not?”

“Just a little bit,” Jake said. “And the doc gave me a final blast of IV antibiotics and I’m on the oral antibiotics as well. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“Wouldn’t having the lab draw done serve to confirm your hypothesis then?” Nerdly asked.

Jake took another scan of the sky, another glance at the instruments, and then looked back over at his passenger. “Yeah, I suppose it would,” he said.

“Then why haven’t you done it?”

“I’m tired of being in medical places and having people poke needles into me,” he said. “Look at my arms.” He held out his arms for Nerdly to see. Both were covered in old and newer bruises from the multiple blood draws he had received in the hospital. “I look like a fuckin’ LA tweaker.”

“I would think you would be used to the experience by this point.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Jake said. “I just don’t want to go through the hassle. I feel fine, all things considered. If I start to get sick or something, I’ll go back in and get the blood draw. Until then, I just want to enjoy being free.”

“I believe there is a basic fallacy to your thinking,” Nerdly told him, “but I will respect your desire to have me cease my unwanted prodding of your behavior.”

“So, you’ll stop nagging me then?”

“Isn’t that what I just said?”

Jake touched down neatly at Whiteman on schedule. He taxied over to the GA terminal and parked in one of the slots. He did not tie down the plane. They would not be staying long. Jake’s armpit and jaw continued to ache. He knew he would have to take one of the pain pills as soon as he got home and chase it down with a little something in a cocktail glass. After all, there was an interesting gathering planned at Kingsley Manor tonight. Mind altering substances were going to be needed to get through it. And hopefully his friends at the San Luis Obispo Sheriff’s Department would not have to respond to break anything up.

Matt arrived first, pulling into the parking lot in his battered old Maserati he had owned since the Intemperance days. It was the same car he had once driven at one hundred eighty-five miles per hour on Interstate 5 while a terrified Jake sat in the passenger seat, the same car he had eluded multiple law enforcement agencies in one fateful evening after a football game (though the cops claimed they had let him go in the interest of public safety). He parked in one of the slots outside the terminal building. Kim was with him. Jake had invited her to the party on the theory that she might be a tempering factor in the reunion.

“What’s up, brother?” Matt greeted Jake when he walked over to the plane, travel bag in hand. His voice was cautious, but with a little bit of enthusiasm.

Jake shook hands with him and then hugged Kim. Nerdly did the same.

“Nerdly, I swear to God you don’t fuckin’ age,” Matt said, taking him in. “You still look like you get carded when you buy booze.”

“I do actually experience that phenomenon quite frequently,” Nerdly said sourly.

Matt looked around, a bit of wariness in his eyes. “Coop’s not here yet?”

“Not yet,” Jake confirmed.

Matt nodded, a frown on his face. “Just like that fucker,” he said, “late to the fuckin’ meeting.”

“You gonna be cool, Matt?” Jake asked him.

“Yeah,” Matt replied. “I’m gonna be cool. We kind of need Coop to pull this shit off, right? Freakboy too.”

“I think Charlie would prefer you do not call him Freakboy,” Jake said.

Matt grunted. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Coop pulled in two minutes later, driving the 2000 Mercedes he had purchased with his touring income from Celia’s last tour. He parked in the slot next to Matt’s Maserati and shut the car down. He seemed to hesitate for a few moments before opening the door and stepping out. He was dressed in jeans and a pullover sweater, his blonde curls long and unruly. He did not acknowledge anyone at first, instead, stepping over to the trunk and pulling out a travel bag of his own. Only then did he walk toward the gathering, a wary expression on his face.

Jake could sense Matt tensing up next to him.

“Remember,” Jake whispered, “this can only work if everyone is aboard.”

“Understood,” Matt said through gritted teeth.

The drummer walked up to them silently, stopping when he was just in front of them. An uncomfortable silence developed. Jake decided to break it.

“Coop,” he greeted. “Good to see you, brother. Glad you could make it.”

Coop nodded. “Good to see you too, Jake,” he said. He glanced over at Nerdly. “You too, Nerdly.” He then slowly turned to face Matt. “It’s been a long time, Matt.”

Matt nodded. “Yeah, it has.”

Coop continued to look at him for a moment and then slowly held out his right hand. Matt stared at the outstretched hand for a moment and then, just before it started to become awkward, reached out and shook with him. It was a brief handshake, almost completely devoid of any emotion or sincerity, but it was a start.

“You remember Kim, right?” Matt asked.

“Hell yeah,” Coop said, giving her a smile. “It’s good to see you again, Kim.”

“Good to see you too, Coop,” she said. She stepped forward and gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Coop seemed pleased with the affection.

“All right then,” Jake said once the hugging was done, “I think we’re off to a good start here, right? No one had to pry the two of you apart.”

“Not yet anyway,” Kim said.

“I take things as I can get them,” Jake said. “Why don’t we load into the plane so we can get to SLO before Charlie’s flight lands?”

“Sounds good,” Coop said.

“Cool,” Jake said. “I just need to weigh everyone and your baggage real quick so I can calculate my V1 and VR.”

“Dude, I need to burn before I climb in there,” Matt said.

Jake looked at him. “Seriously? You need to burn right now?”

“If I’m gonna be flying in your small-ass plane that bumps around all over the fuckin’ place, I need to be flying a little higher than it is,” Matt told him. “I got a joint in my cigarette pack. I’ll go over to the place behind the hangars where I went before. It’ll just take me a fuckin’ minute.”

Jake sighed. “All right,” he said. “Go do what you need to do.”

Coop’s eyes got a little wider as he heard this conversation. “A joint you say?” he asked Matt.

Matt looked over at him. “Yeah,” he said. “Some medicinal quality ganja I scored for Jake while he was in the hospital. Good shit.”

“I ain’t never tried any of that medicinal shit,” Coop said hopefully.

Matt sighed. “Come on,” he told the drummer. “Let’s go burn it.”

“All right,” Coop said, his mood visibly lightening already.

Matt looked at the rest of them. “Anyone else want in on this shit?” he asked.

“I’m good,” Jake said.

“Me too,” said Kim.

“Me as well,” Nerdly said, “although if you have more, I’d like to try it later, when I don’t have to drive.”

“I bought half an ounce of it, Nerdly,” Matt told him. “I brought the better part of an eighth with me.” He looked over at Coop again. “Come on. Let’s do this shit.”

“Right,” Coop said.

The two of them walked off together toward the back of the hangars.

“Well ... that’s encouraging,” Kim said.

“Yeah,” Jake had to agree. “The power of THC at work.”

“It really is medicinal,” Nerdly said.

Matt and Coop sat next to each other on the flight, strapping into the seats immediately behind the cockpit while Jake and Nerdly sat up front and Kim sat in the rear-facing seat behind them. They did not talk much during the trip, but they did talk a little.

“So,” Matt asked once they reached cruise altitude, “how’s your fuckin’ kid doing? What’s his name?”

“Ethan,” Coop said. “He’s doing okay. At least that’s what I hear. I’ve never actually met him.”

“But you pay five-digits a fuckin’ month to support him?” Matt asked.

“Yep, until he’s eighteen,” Coop confirmed.

“That’s a raw deal, dude,” Matt sympathized.

“Just because those fuckin’ lambskin rubbers won’t stay on your shit,” Coop said sadly. “I thought about suing the motherfuckers who make those things. Even talked to a lawyer about it.”

“What did the lawyer say?”

“He didn’t think I had much of a case,” Coop said. “Wouldn’t sign up for it.”

“That’s a bitch,” Matt said.

“Yep,” Coop agreed. “It’s the way the fuckin’ world works, man.”

Jake touched down at SLO Regional and taxied over to his hangar. Everyone unloaded their baggage and watched while Jake pushed the aircraft back inside using the tug. Matt, Coop, and Kim all noticed how much the procedure took out of Jake.

“You okay, dude?” Matt asked, raising his eyebrows a little.

“Yeah,” Jake said, wiping a little sweat from his brow. “Still recovering from the gunshot wound. Everything is kind of aching.”

“You should have taken one of your pain pills,” Matt told him.

“Uh ... yeah,” Jake said, “it seemed like maybe that would be a bad idea before I climbed into the cockpit.”

“Oh ... yeah, I guess that shit makes sense,” Matt allowed.

“You should’ve took a couple hits off the doob then,” Coop told him. “It’s medicinal shit, remember?”

Jake nodded slowly. “Maybe next time,” he said.

They walked over to the GA terminal, where Jake’s BMW and Nerdly’s Honda were parked. Jake checked the time on his watch. It was now 1:10 PM. Charlie’s plane was scheduled to land at 1:30. Jake passed this information onto Coop and Matt and Kim.

“Twenty minutes, huh?” Matt said. “Is there someplace to get a fuckin’ drink around here?”

“I could go for a brewski,” Coop added.

There was a place that could be accomplished. The Central Coast Lounge was inside the passenger terminal on the non-secure side of the security checkpoint. It was only a short walk to get there. Jake felt that maybe a little drink might do him some good. He led them over and they settled into the seats at one of the tables in the back of the building. Everyone in the place recognized Jake. A few recognized Kim. No one recognized Matt or Coop, which everyone was grateful for.

Jake ordered a double Macallan 12-year old Scotch on the rocks. Matt went with a Jack and Coke. Kim had a glass of chardonnay. Nerdly went with a Gray Goose and cranberry juice—just a single since he would be driving. Coop had a brewski. Everyone seemed to mellow a little bit more once the alcohol soaked in. Jake, in particular, felt some of his aches and pains fading down slightly. He began to feel encouraged that this crazy idea might actually work.

“Have you talked to Charlie lately?” Coop asked Jake.

“Other than when we set up this meeting, no, not since you all came off tour.”

“Then you don’t know which Charlie we’ll be dealing with?” Coop asked.

“No,” Jake said. “We didn’t talk about that.”

“Which Charlie we’re dealing with?” Matt asked. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Well ... uh ... there are two versions of Charlie that kind of switch back and forth randomly,” Jake said.

“Two versions?” Matt asked. “There’s more than just regular fuckin’ Freakboy?”

“Yeah,” Jake said. “You see there’s homosexual Charlie who likes to suck dicks and have dicks stuffed up his ass, and then there’s heterosexual Charlie who grabs all the pussy he can get and talks shit about ‘those fuckin’ faggots’ worse than you could ever hope to accomplish.”

Matt’s eyes widened. “You’re fuckin’ kidding me,” he said.

“I wouldn’t kid about something like that,” Jake said.

“He switched back and forth twice on us while we were out on tour with Celia,” Coop said. “Went from requesting eighteen year old bitches with big titties to bald old men with studded belts and then back again.”

“He doesn’t ever do both at the same time?” Kim asked. “It sounds like he’s a true bisexual.”

“No,” Jake said. “He’s either one or the other. A true team player all the way.”

“Fuck me,” Matt said, shaking his head. “Maybe this was a bad idea after all.”

They finished their drinks and Jake picked up the tab, leaving a healthy tip. They then walked back over to the GA terminal, arriving just in time to watch a Cessna Citation business jet land and then taxi in their direction. It parked next to Jake’s plane and powered down, leaving it running only on the APU. A minute later, the door opened and out walked Charlie Meyer dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a pullover sweater. His brown hair was balding in the front and fell halfway to his ass in the back. His body looked to be in decent enough shape for a man who was approaching forty years of age. He said something to the pilot of the aircraft and then walked down the steps, travel bag in hand. He spotted the group standing together, waved at them, and then walked over.

“Hey, guys!” he greeted enthusiastically. “Good to see you all! Hey, Matt! It’s been a long time.”

“Yeah,” Matt said. “A really long time.”

“Pardon me for not shaking your hand,” Charlie told him. “Microbes, you know. But I’m happy you agreed to play with us again! I’m really looking forward to putting Intemperance back together! I’ve been dreaming of this day!”

“Yeah,” Matt grunted. “I’ve had a few dreams about it myself. Not very good dreams, but fuckin’ dreams all the same.”

“That’s cool,” Charlie said, completely missing Matt’s sarcasm. “Hey, I can’t wait until we hit the road again! How badass is that going to be? There was nothing like Intemperance groupies back in the day, am I fucking right or what?”

“Female Intemperance groupies?” Matt asked carefully.

“Of course,” Charlie said. “What else? They always were sluttier and hotter than the shit I scored playing for Celia. Not that I’m complaining or anything. I scored some awesome puss playing for C.”

“All right then,” Jake said. “I guess we know which stage we’re currently engaged in, right?”

“Which stage?” Charlie asked, confused.

“Never mind,” Jake told him. “How about we blow this scene and go check out the studio and the rehearsal hall?”

“Let’s fuckin’ do it,” Matt said.

Matt and Kim got into Jake’s BMW with him while Coop and Charlie climbed into the Honda with Nerdly. Jake led the way and quickly left Nerdly in the dust since Nerdly refused to drive any faster than five miles per hour less than the posted speed limit (which made him even slower than Laura). Jake pulled up to the security gate twenty-four minutes after leaving the airport. He handed the guard his pass card and the guard scanned it before asking for identification from Matt and Kim so he could issue them pass cards as well. This procedure took the better part of five minutes and still Nerdly had not arrived yet.

Jake drove up to the former winery building and parked in the lot in front of the main entrance. There were still contractors at work in the building, putting the finishing touches on the living quarters, and their trucks were parked in the lot as well.

“Pretty classy looking place,” Matt said when they stepped out of the car. “You say you got two studios up and running?”

“Yep,” Jake said. “Studio One is where we recorded the last Brainwash CD. Studio Two is still a virgin at this point except for Nerdly and I mixing some live cuts we recorded so we could distribute them on Napster. Both are state of the art with the latest, greatest shit installed. Even better than Obie’s studios.”

“That must have cost some serious coin,” Matt said.

“It did,” Jake confirmed.

“I love the grapevines,” Kim said.

“We actually made some money off of those vines this year,” Jake said. “Not enough to pay for all the upkeep, but we’re hoping for a really good crop next year that will allow us to produce and bottle our own vintage and sell it at an outrageous price.”

“Isn’t that a lot of fuckin’ trouble?” Matt asked.

“Not for me personally,” Jake said, “but it is expensive to maintain and grow wine grapes. We had to hire a professional viticulturist and an entire crew of workers to keep the vineyards up. And, when harvest comes, we have to pay for a bigger crew to hand pick everything. All of that is expensive. Drives Jill insane. It’ll be a few years before we start seeing any actual profit.”

“Why do it then?” Matt asked. “What’s the fuckin’ point?”

“Just to see if it can be done,” Jake explained. “I made an agreement with the local real estate developer who is building all those houses down there to keep the vineyards looking good to help him market his shit. In turn, he pays for half of the expenses and gets to share in half of the profit once it starts rolling in. Since we’re going to be keeping the vines producing anyway, it seemed to make sense to squeeze as much money out of the yield as we can. The best way to do that is to take losses for a few years until we can produce premium grapes and turn them into premium wine that we’ll put KVA’s good name on.”

“Wouldn’t it have been easier and cheaper to just tear out all the vines and tell that rich prick to take a flying fuck?” Matt asked.

Jake shrugged. “It would have been easier and less expensive, but not very neighborly,” he said.

“I guess,” Matt said, shaking his head a little. It was quite clear that the concept of being neighborly was a bit beyond him.

Nerdly finally pulled into parking lot and brought his Honda to a halt next to Jake’s car. He, Coop, and Charlie piled out. This was the first visit for the bassist and the drummer and they both took everything in.

“Nice fuckin’ place, Jake,” Coop said, impressed. “I really dig the way those plants on the hill are in perfect rows and shit.”

“They’re grapevines, Coop,” Jake told him. “This used to be a winery.”

“Grapes, huh?” he replied. “Are there any on the plants right now? Munching on a couple of grapes would be pretty fuckin’ gnarly right now.”

“They were all harvested back in September,” Jake said. “And they’re wine grapes. They don’t really taste all that good if you just munch on them off the vine.”

“That’s fucked up,” Coop opined.

“Eating fruit off of the vine or the bush or the tree is a good way to get an E. Coli infection,” Charlie said sternly. “I would not recommend the practice.”

“I’ll keep that shit in mind,” Coop said.

“How about we tour the studio building?” Jake asked. “They’re still working on the living quarters, but it will be where everyone except Nerdly and I will be staying during rehearsals if we can make a go of this thing.”

“Let’s fuckin’ do it,” Matt said.

They fuckin’ did it. They showed them the studios first. Matt, Coop, and Charlie were professional recording musicians and were able to appreciate the technology that KVA Studios represented.

“Are you gonna rent these fuckin’ studios out when you’re not using them?” Matt asked. “Seems like you could pull in some pretty good coin doing that.”

“We’ve talked about it in our meetings,” Jake said. “Jill and Pauline are in favor of that. Me and Nerdly and Celia are a little hesitant though. We don’t want people we don’t know invading our studios. Besides, we’ll have our own projects coming up soon. V-tach just came off tour and they’ll be working on new tunes that will need to be recorded. Celia will want to put another CD together at some point as well, although she still hasn’t strummed anything out yet as of the last time I talked to her.”

“You don’t have the place staffed then?” asked Coop.

“Not yet,” Jake said. “We hired techs for the Brainwash CD but let them go after we were done with the master.”

“Local techs?” Matt asked.

“Yeah,” Jake said. “Cal-Poly has an audio engineering program. It’s real easy to pick up some paid techs and interns from them.”

“Interns huh?” Matt said with a leer. “Any hot ones?”

“If you like young, geeky, awkward males with no personality, then yeah, they’re pretty hot.”

“That’s fucked up,” Matt said. In his world there was no such thing as a male intern.

“The goal is to produce music, not to get laid,” Jake pointed out.

“Fuckin’ Nerdly managed to do both back in the day,” Matt said slyly. “Remember that shit, Nerdly? You were nailing the future Mrs. Nerdly the whole time we mixed and mastered In Action.”

“Not the entire time,” Nerdly said. “Just for the latter half of the process—and the overseas tour, of course. And we remained professional throughout, did we not?”

“I will give you that,” Matt had to admit.

“These young interns you’re talking about,” Charlie put in. “None of them are fucking faggots, are they?”

Everyone looked at him pointedly.

“What?” he asked. “It’s a legitimate question.”

“We do not ask their sexual orientation when we interview them for the position, Charlie,” Jake said. “We kind of like them to be qualified for the position and to have good ears. What they like to put in their mouths is not our concern.”

“Oh ... yeah, I guess that makes sense,” Charlie said. “I just don’t want to work with a bunch of faggots always hitting on me.”

Matt shook his head. “I can do this shit,” he muttered to himself. “I can do it. I swear I can.”

“Hold steady, Mattie,” Kim said, patting his shoulder.

“How about we pop upstairs and check out the living quarters?” Jake suggested.

“Let’s fuckin’ do it,” Matt said.

Jake secured the studio they had just toured (the construction crews no longer had access to them) and led them all up the fancy staircase to the spacious second floor. Up here, a crew of six were working on the finishing touches of two of the bedrooms while another crew of two was installing cabinetry in the kitchen area.