Chapter 35: Panty Girl: Home Invader

When Orlando asked me to come to L.A., I never stopped to consider any of the logistics. I guess that's what happens when you think with your body and not your head, when you let yourself get caught up in exciting fantasies rather than reality. Maybe I can blame the grogginess I still feel after my nap on our flight, but it's not until our cab pulls into a long driveway that I realize where we're going.

"This is your house?" I ask, peering out the window. Orlando pushes a button on his keys to open the big, arching gates. Beyond that is a huge white house with fluted columns and an attached carriage house.

Talk about living the dream.

There are houses like this in some of the fancier corners of Atlanta, but something about the big California sky and swaying palm trees just completes the picture. There isn't much of a lawn to speak of - not in the way you see lawns in Atlanta, anyway - but the grounds are still substantial. Rock gardens, flowering cacti, and succulents are arranged b