The band made enough money to keep her mostly afloat while she reached for the stars, but she’d mentioned being disappointed by how long it was taking to break out.
Julian wasn’t going to be the one to tell her how many people came to LA seeking fame and fortune only to never get their big break.However, her incredible voice was a big reason the band had become so popular.She had a Stevie Nicks vibe that had people following them from gig to gig, giving them the kind of fan base that often led to bigger things.He had a semiqueasy feeling about the band taking off, knowing he wouldn’t be able to take the ride that the others craved.As much as he loved playing live, and this band was the best one he’d ever been part of, it wasn’t his big dream, or Denny’s.
Since the rest of the band was constantly struggling for money, Julian refused payment for gigs he was happy to do for free because the music gave him a much-needed outlet away from work.
They rocked the classics for three long hours with one thirty-minute break, during which Denny checked in with his sister.Julian reached out to a contact at the LAPD who confirmed that Gabriel Santana would be their overnight guest at the city jail with an arraignment scheduled for nine o’clock in the morning.Due to the severity of the damage done to the apartment, his friend said, the DA was recommending Gabriel be held without bail while he awaited trial.The outcome would depend on the judge, and Denny’s sister needed to be prepared for her husband to be released on bail.
Julian told Denny what he’d learned from the LAPD.
“Well, it’s a relief that he won’t get out tonight.I’ll let her know in case the LAPD hasn’t gotten around to notifying her yet.”
“What’s the plan if he gets sprung tomorrow?”
“I don’t have one.I’d take them in if I could, but my place barely has room for me.The child support and alimony are killer, as you know.”
“I could loan you the money to get a place big enough for all of you.”
Denny hesitated before he said, “The family money is invested for her.”
“She doesn’t know about it?”
He shook his head.“I was afraid the husband would blow through it, so I kept it from her.She has what she needs to move out.”
“You need to tell her that.”
“She’s going to be pissed that I kept it from her.”
“Not as pissed as she’d be if he’d squandered it.”
“I hope that’s the case.Thank you for helping.”
“Always.Bring her to the office in the morning.We’ll figure out next steps.”
“Will do.Appreciate this.”
“No worries.”
After they finished their gig, Julian helped pack up the equipment and then headed for the exit, eager to get home after a long-ass day with another on tap for tomorrow.As he drove home, he thought about Denny’s sister and hoped he could help her figure out a plan to get free of her violent husband before something happened to her and her kids.
His practice tended to cater to high-income clients due to the firm’s reputation and their hourly rates.However, he tried to help those of lesser means whenever he got the chance.In fact, his active pro bono practice was often a source of contention with his father, who preferred that they stay focused on clients with big bucks.
Making use of his skills and experience to help people who were less fortunate was important to Julian, who’d led an extraordinarily privileged life.Despite the nastiness of his parents’ divorce, the rest of his childhood had been somewhat gilded thanks to their professional success.He volunteered one Saturday a month at a shelter for women who’d experienced domestic violence and made himself available to friends who needed help, like Denny, even if they couldn’t afford to pay him.
His siblings agreed that their pro bono work made them feel better about charging exorbitant rates to clients who could easily afford them.
As he drove up the hill toward his home in Laurel Canyon, Julian thought of his grandfather, Spencer Remington, and how he’d built the family business into a local institution that’d gained national prominence under Corbin’s leadership.With every passing year, the firm’s annual gross grew exponentially, which gave them the resources to fund things like in-house estate, accounting, real estate and taxation specialists, which set them apart from most smaller family law firms.
When the shit hit the fan in a Hollywood marriage, Remington was usually the first call both parties made, and if they didn’t call the original Remington practice, then his mother’s firm, Kate Remington Family Law, was right up there on the list of the most desirable representation.His three sisters, Jordan, Kaidan and Gillian, worked for their mother’s firm, as did two of their female first cousins.
They joked about the boys versus girls in court, as they frequently were on opposite sides of high-profile cases, but they strove to leave the animosity in court, as they were determined to stay close outside of work.
On the way home, he hung a left on Lookout Mountain Avenue, passing the house his maternal grandmother had once rented, back when she’d made music with the likes of 1960s and 1970s luminaries Joni Mitchell, David Crosby and Stephen Stills, among many others.In fact, Joni had been her neighbor.Freida Lewis had been a legend in her own right as a successful singer/songwriter who’d inspired her grandchildren’s appreciation for classic rock, folk and the other sounds that’d come from the incredible era in which Laurel Canyon had been at the center of the LA musical universe.
He was driving his first-generation black 1971 Porsche 911, which was among his most-prized possessions, even if it became more of a money pit with every passing year.Thankfully, the band had someone to manage their equipment, or the bass would’ve been hanging out the window on his way home.
Driving the old car brought him joy, especially as he downshifted to navigate the twisting turns of Laurel Canyon, his ears popping as they always did when he went higher into the hills.His brothers liked to say he’d bought a house up there so he’d never have to invite them over, as parking was at a premium on the narrow roads.When it had come time to buy his own home, Julian hadn’t looked anywhere other than the neighborhood his grandmother had helped to make famous with her illustrious friends back in the day.
He pulled up to his two-story contemporary-style home on Sunset Plaza Drive.The exterior was dark gray brick with wood accents and a light blue smoked-glass garage door.He pressed the button to open the double-sized door and parked next to the matte black Mercedes G-Wagon SUV he used when he needed to go farther than Sunset for a gig.He was under no illusions about the Porsche and believed her days were probably numbered, so he drove her as often as he could.
