“Don’t be such a dumbass.” Teesha got up when Adrian ran back down with the mats.

“This is just what we need to make sure. Test out the segments. I should’ve thought of it before. Let’s take it out on the terrace. Fresh air, plenty of room.”

“I’m game.” Teesha marched over, opened the doors to the main level terrace. “Come on, Loren. Don’t be a wuss.”

“If I puke, it’s not my fault. And I could get like vertigo from the height.”

“Vertigo, 1958, Alfred Hitchcock classic starring Jimmy Stewart and Kim Novak.” Teesha shrugged. “I saw it on TV.”

Loren didn’t puke, but he did groan a lot. And flushed hot pink whenever Adrian moved to him, adjusted his stance or position with hands on his hips or shoulders.

“It’s working,” Adrian murmured to Hector. “I can see it’s working. They’re both total beginners but they can follow the cues. Just need help with alignment, need practice. But that’s what yoga is. It’s continual practice so … Pizza. I’ll get it.”

Thrilled, Adrian grabbed the money she’d set on the table inside and danced her way to the door.

Then froze when she opened it. “Pizza party?” Harry Reese, Lina’s publicity director, held two pizza boxes.

His left eyebrow arched up the way it did when he was being sarcastic or amused, or both. As always, he looked trim and stylish in black jeans, a black leather jacket with a pale gray T-shirt, and low black boots.

“Harry. I didn’t think you were back until …”

He angled his head. “Until it was safe?”

“No. No. And it’s not a party. It’s work.”

“Uh-huh.” He stepped inside the foyer, six feet of handsome with perfectly styled brown hair, clever brown eyes, and a face her grandmother once said had been chiseled by skilled and magic elves.

“It is! You can see for yourself.” She took the pizza boxes. “My friends and coworkers.” She gestured to the glass doors through which she could still see Teesha and Loren trying to do the segment, and Hector grinning at them.

She also saw, as he did, the Coke bottles, the bag of chips, the pairs of sneakers, somebody’s hoodie, scattered over the living area.

“Did she send you to check up on me?”

“No. I came home for a couple days because Lina has this afternoon and all day tomorrow off, and I wanted to deal with some things. And I wanted to see Marsh. I ran into the pizza guy downstairs. I took care of it.”

“Thanks.”

Marshall Tucker and Harry had been together for three years, and though she adored them both, Adrian still cursed the timing.

“Going to introduce me to your friends?”

“Sure. Listen, Harry …”

“I’m not going to bust you for having friends over, unless I discover you’re holding sex orgies and didn’t invite me.”

“As if. We’re working, I swear. I had a project, and they’ve helped me put it together.”

Maybe her stomach jittered as she crossed to the doors, but she did her best to radiate confidence as she pulled them open. “Hey, guys, let’s pause it. This is Harry. He’s my mother’s publicity director.”

Maybe they could have looked more guilty, but Harry figured they’d have needed to work on it.

“How’s it going? Outdoor yoga with a pizza chaser. Sounds pretty good.”

“Harry, this is Hector and Teesha and Loren. We go to school together.”

So she’d made friends already, which he considered a positive—as he’d argued on her behalf when Lina decided to transfer her in her junior year.

“We’ve been working on a video,” Adrian continued. “Hector’s a videographer—his father let us borrow some equipment.”

“Yeah?” Harry moved toward the laptop. “What kind of video?”

“A seven-segment fitness video. We’re going to put it up on You-Tube.”

“For school?”

“No. No, not for school.”

“Does this mean I can stop?” Loren pushed at his hair. “I’m getting sweaty.”

Harry walked around the table to look at the laptop screen where Adrian, on pause, held in Warrior II with the sun rising over the river at her back.

“Wow, that’s great light.”

“It’s the first fifteen-minute segment. The morning Sun Salutation. We were just trying it out.”

“Don’t let me stop you. Hector?”

Hector, who’d very carefully said nothing, shoved his glasses up his nose and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Jesus, let’s not do the ‘sir’ thing. How about pushing play.”

“Ah, sure.”

Continue to gaze over your right hand as you turn it, palm up, then raise your right arm up, looking up to your palm, lowering your left arm down the back of your left leg as you move into Reverse Warrior.

 

“I’m getting a Coke. Anybody want a Coke?”

Teesha gave Loren the bug eye and said, “Ssh!”

“What? I’m thirsty.”

“Got enough for the whole class?” Harry asked as he continued to watch Adrian on-screen. “Wouldn’t mind one myself. And the pizza smells good. A slice is the price for my silence.”

“I’ll get plates and stuff,” Teesha volunteered.

“Thanks. Harry,” Adrian added.

“Ssh.” He gestured her back, watched another minute before he hit pause. He looked at Hector again.

“You shot this?”

“Yes, sir. I mean, yeah.”

“How old are you?”

“Um. Seventeen.”

“What are you, a freaking prodigy?”

Hector hunched his shoulders, let them fall.

“Seven segments, Ads?”

“Yeah, I thought seven to—”

“How many have you finished?”

“Seven.”

“Jesus. Show me another.”

“Cardio dance. It’s instruction in eight-count beats, cumulative, repeating until we’ve got the whole deal, and we do that three times. I got the music from public domain. It’s okay, we just needed the beat.”

He watched the first few minutes, taking the glass of Coke from Teesha when she brought it over. “Changed your outfit and hair, smart, different angle on the city backdrop, that’s good. Lighting and sound are good, too. You’ve got presence and talent, Adrian, but you always have.”

He hit pause himself, sat back. “And you’re not putting these on YouTube.”

“Harry!”

“You’re not putting them up when your mother has a production company.”

“This is mine. We did this. It’s not hers.”

He took a slow sip as he studied her stubborn face. “You’ve got a product, she’s got the means to highlight and market that product. If the rest of this is as good as what I’ve seen, I’m going to bat for you. If it’s not, you’ll make it as good, and I’ll go to bat for you. What are you calling it?”

“About Time, and my company is New Generation. My company, when I work that out.”

He smiled at her. “I’m going to help you work that out. Don’t be stupid and not use what’s in your lap, Ads. Your mother’s agent, her well-established company, me. New Generation works, and for now that production company can be under the wide umbrella of Yoga Baby. DVDs, Adrian. The agent, the lawyers, you, and your mom will work out all the details, and the deal. You’ll get money up front, you’ll get a solid percentage of sales. The lion’s share—I’m going to push for that, don’t worry. I’m on your side here.”