“You’re always on my side.”

“That’s right.” He put an arm out to draw her close to where he sat. “You know you can trust me to look out for you.”

“I do trust you.”

“Then listen to Daddy. Let me bring this to your mom—after I preview it all.”

Considering, trying her best to weigh each side—she’d really wanted just her own, but … “You guys have a say, too. We did this together.”

“Yeah, but it’s your project,” Hector reminded her.

“DVDs would be cool. Like for sale and everything. I’m just saying,” Loren added when Hector stared at him. “I mean YouTube, that’s cool, too, but if you look at the big picture …”

“Teesha?”

Teesha lifted her shoulders. “Your call, Hector’s right. But we did a really good job. I mean, like seriously.”

Adrian paced to the wall, stared out, paced back. “Say we did it your way. Say Mom agrees to produce and market. It’s my production company on the DVD, under the umbrella, like you said. And I’m billed as executive producer and choreographer.”

“That’s fair.”

“Hector’s billed as producer and videographer. Loren as producer and sound, Teesha as producer and lighting. And they get scale for each title.”

“What’s scale?” When Loren murmured it, Hector waved him away.

“And five percent of the profits on the back end. Each.”

“I think, realistically, your agent’s going to say two percent.”

“We’ll negotiate. If it gets that far.”

“DVDs like this sell for—it’s going to be a two-disk set because of the length.” Teesha, head angled, looked up at the sky. “Like $22.95.”

“She’s already a brand,” Harry pointed out. “Two-disk set, we’ll price it around $29.99.”

“Okay. Figure what Adrian’s invested, the cost of production and manufacturing, producing the cover and case, the vendor discount, marketing costs … Call it net $10.50, but that’s a guess until I do some research. So that’s—at the two percent—like twenty-one cents for each of us per sale, on top of the scale payment. Maybe it sells like a hundred thousand copies. That would be like twenty-one thousand dollars. Each.”

“With Yoga Baby behind it, the Rizzo brand, the fresh take?” Harry studied Teesha as he spoke. “We’d project a million in sales.”

She stared at him. “Two percent’s good.”

“Are you all prodigies?”

“We’re nerds,” Hector told him.

“Okay, nerds, let’s eat some pizza and look at what you’ve got here.”

When he finished, when nothing remained of the pizzas but fond memories, Harry sat back. “Okay. Okay, boys and girls. In my never humble opinion, you’ve got something here. Hector, can you burn me a DVD?”

“Sure. I could email you the file.”

“Do both. I’m flying out Monday afternoon to hook up with Lina in Denver. I’ll show it to her, give her the pitch.” He rose, rolling his shoulders as he strolled around the terrace. “It’s too late to get it produced, promoted, and distributed for holiday sales, but we can hit the January guilt spike in workout sales and interest.”

He turned back. “Nerds, if you haven’t told your parents what you’ve been doing, now’s the time. They need to clear you to sign contracts.” He dug into his pocket, pulled out his silver business card case, set a few cards on the table. “Any questions, your parents can contact me. Hector, you can send the file to the email address on the card. And be prepared. This is going to move fast.”

Hector carefully labeled the disk he’d copied. “My dad knows. I mean, except all this today. And, you know, he’s in the business and all.” He cased the disk, handed it to Harry.

“All right then, I’ve got to get home. Thanks for the pizza.”

“You paid for it,” Adrian pointed out as she rose to walk him out.

“You’re right. You’re welcome.” He draped an arm around her shoulders as they walked. “Does Mimi know?”

“No.”

“Tell her. She’ll be on your side.”

“Okay, but, Harry—”

“Trust me.” He kissed the top of her head. “I’ve got you.”

Two seconds after she closed the door, cheers erupted from the terrace. Awkward dancing ensued.

They didn’t know Lina Rizzo, Adrian thought. But what the hell, they had Harry in their corner.

She did a handspring.

Some thirty-six hours later and at thirty thousand feet, Lina watched two segments on Harry’s laptop. She sipped sparkling water—no ice—as the plane soared toward Dallas.

“Seven of these?”

“That’s right.”

“She should have done six ten-minute segments to make it a clean hour.”

“Two-disk set, the intro and opening and three segments on the first, four segments on the second. Two clean hours. Fifteen is more of a commitment, and put two together, you’ve got a thirty-minute workout.”

“What was that music in the cardio routine—and that outfit?”

“It’s hip-hop, Lina. It’s a good, fresh, energetic vibe. A fun one, and she outfitted herself to suit it.”

Lina just shook her head, played the next two segments. Knowing his quarry, Harry said nothing.

“You knew nothing about this?”

“No. She wanted to do it herself. She was enterprising, creative, work-focused. She found contemporaries at school who had the skills to help her realize it. They’re good kids.”

“You spent, what, a couple hours with them and know that?”

“Yeah. I also spoke with their parents, but yeah, they’re clearly good, smart kids. Seriously smart,” he added. “She’s made friends, Lina, and with them she accomplished something special.”

“And now, saying nothing to me, going behind my back to do this when I’m out of town, she expects me to not only approve, but to produce.”

“No, she doesn’t. I do. You can look at it as her doing it behind your back or you can look at it as her wanting to do something on her own. To prove herself. And you can’t look at what she did and claim she hasn’t proven herself. You should be proud of her.”

Lina studied her water, then took a slow sip. “I’m not saying she didn’t do a decent job, but—”

“Stop there.” He held up a hand. “Don’t qualify it. And we both know it’s a damn good job. Let me set aside my personal relationship with you, with Adrian, and talk to you as your publicity director. You help her set up her company, and you produce this two-pack DVD, you’re going to help her boost her brand. And you’re going to add more shine to your own.”

“A bunch of teenagers as producers.”

“It’s the hook, Lina.” He grinned, and grinned broadly. “You know a shiny gold hook as well as I do. And that story’s going to sell a crap ton of DVDs. I can pitch the angles to the moon and back.”

“You can pitch dirt to the moon and back.”