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event center, includes market rate housing, expands open space, and builds an expansive new waterfront plaza for the public to—”
    Camille stood abruptly from the table. “I’ve heard enough,” she said looking at Scott. “Start negotiating with Vandercliff first thing tomorrow. Tell her Camille Hardaway wants Doberman Stadium built on her property. Offer her $80 million and if she refuses tell her we’ll take it by eminent domain.”
    Scott looked up and said, “But, Mrs. Mayor, there are no grounds for eminent domain with this project.”
    Camille snapped her head in Scott’s direction. “Did I ask your opinion?” she replied sharply.
    The other men at the table looked relieved they were not involved in the exchange and avoided eye contact with the mayor and Scott.
    â€œNo, Mrs. Mayor,” Scott replied cautiously. “You did not, but—”
    â€œNo buts,” she snapped. “I want Dober Stadium located on that site. If you don’t think you can make it happen, let me know now, and I’ll replace you with someone who can.”
    â€œMrs. Mayor,” Tony said, unfazed by her display of force and dominance over the others in the room. “There is one other obstacle that won’t be as easy to get over.”
    â€œAnd what is that?” she asked coldly.
    â€œJohn Spalding, planning commission chair. He’s made it his mission to ensure no new stadium is ever built. He has rejected all designs and locations we’ve floated by the commission. He feels it’s a waste of tax dollars and the money should be used to build affordable housing for teachers and first responders.”
    â€œFuck teachers,” Camille said angrily. “We’ve already built thousands of units of subsidized housing all over the goddamn city. Isn’t that enough?”
    â€œHe doesn’t think it is,” Tony replied calmly. “He’s said privately he believes you’re using this as a stepping-stone to the governor’s mansion.”
    Camille walked to her desk and sat down. “We’re done here. You leave Spalding to me,” she said coldly. “Please see yourselves out.”
    The four men silently retrieved papers and exited the office as Camille launched into a heated exchange on the telephone with her next victim of the day.
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    The smell of chlorine filled the yard as Gideon Truman completed his usual 6 a.m. swim. Danny St. John sat nearby at a patio table reading the morning paper, taking leisurely sips of coffee and a eating a warm croissant.
    â€œYour coffee is getting cold,” Danny called out.
    â€œOne more lap,” came Gideon’s breathy reply as the water splashed over his shoulders.
    Gideon’s Hollywood hillside home had an unobstructed view of downtown Los Angeles. The forty-five-foot high letters of the iconic HOLLYWOOD sign looked down onto his yard from a hill in the distance. The city lay at their feet like an intricately woven carpet and the peak of the tower at city hall was just visible between the high-rises, hotels, and condominiums.
    The two men lived together in the house since Danny’s former lover, Pastor Hezekiah Cleaveland, was murdered by his wife Samantha. The devastating loss of Hezekiah, followed by the mysterious death of Samantha, created a bond between Gideon and Danny bound by love and tragedy.
    They liked nothing more than being in each other’s company. They traveled together on Gideon’s assignments to exotic parts of the world. They dined at the finest restaurants, attended the A-list parties and ordered takeout from their favorite Chinese takeaway on Sunset Boulevard every Thursday night. They enjoyed the many perks of Gideon’s celebrity status together, but the most enjoyable time was when they were alone in the house on the hill and safe in each other’s arms. They were soul mates and no verse or brimstone-spewing televangelist