He Likes His Girls a Little Bit Older

Leaving Nash Vegas

"Are you sure you are ok with online school for a semester?" I asked Mick, knowing the answer given she was going to live in LA with the stylist for 5SOS, her mom.

"No mom. I'd rather live here with gramma and go to school with the same people I've known since kindergarten," Mick replied sarcastically.

The next morning we pulled our heavy bags to the foyer of our little suburban house and waited for the airport transportation Ben had arranged for us. Just then, the doorbell rang.

"Ms. Stonefort?" Asked the well-dressed driver.

"Yes, that's me," I replied.

The driver loaded our bags into the trunk of the town car and we were in our way. Big change was coming, I could feel it. And I liked the feeling.

Mick and I boarded the plane and made our way to our first-class seats. My daughter was impressed - which is sometimes rare for a teenager. I was impressed too. I'd flown first-class once or twice but not very recently. The plane took off smoothly and we were on our way.

Four hours, three movies, two sandwiches and 1 sleepy teen later, we landed at LAX. Los Angeles. The city of angels. Normally, I would have panicked and wondered what the hell I'd done. Not this time. I knew this was going to be good. Really good.

We walked down the long concourse, past the secure area and headed to baggage claim.

"Look mom!" Mick said pointing out another well-dressed man holding a sign that read "Stonefort".

We approached the driver, introduced ourselves and got on the escalator down to the street level. The driver lead us outside to a waiting limousine.

"I'll retrieve your bags. May I have the claim checks?" The driver asked politely. He opened the door of the limo and helped us inside. "Wait here ladies. I'll return momentarily."

On the table in the middle of the limo was a variety of snacks and beverages. I helped myself to a glass of champagne and even let Mick have a glass. We were celebrating. And it's not like she'd never had alcohol but never on my watch. I jumped startled as the driver opened the trunk and loaded our bags inside and then again as he slammed the trunk shut.

"Momma, you're going to need to settle down," Mick said with a giggle.

I took in a deep breath and turned up my champagne glass. Then refilled it.

We drove for what seemed an eternity but that was LA. I had lived there years before right after college. My misspent youth as I called it. Finally we turned onto Laurel Canyon Boulevard and up to 1836 - our new home. The band's management had acquired our accommodations and had included the cost in the very handsome sum they were paying me for my services, so I had no idea what to expect. In my mind's eye I saw a very nice apartment not unlike the one I lived in during the three years I was an resident of LA prior.

We pulled up to a gate at the end of a stone driveway. I could hear the driver talking into the speaker on the gate but couldn't make out what he was saying. A second or two later, the gate opened and we drove in. The gate quietly closed behind us. The limo stopped in front of the garage doors. The driver got out and came to open our door. He extended a hand to help me out of the limo and turned to do the same for Mick. I turned to see the most beautiful apartment building I'd ever seen. White clapboard with beautiful detailing. A completely elegant California apartment building. The front door opened and a woman in her 20s came down the stairs.

"Hello Ms. Stonefort, I'm Samantha Bishop, your assistant," She said shaking my hand "you must be Michaela," shaking Mick's hand as well. "Come on in and I'll show you around.