Jared Leto's house, if one could even properly call this white industrial-looking sprawling compound a house, is not fifty thousand square feet in size. It's easily double that. What little yard I can see is xeriscape, is all native vegetation. There's none of the meticulously landscaped green space that I'd spotted in front of the mansions we'd passed on the way here.
"The livable and usable parts of the place now are about fifty thousand square feet," Jared clarifies as I stare at the sprawling structure, open-mouthed and trying to take it all in. "There are lower levels and sub-levels, vaults, laboratories, bomb shelters, and I swear this one room on sub-level two looks like it was a dungeon at one time—hey. You okay?"
I try to speak but only a woosh of air emits forth as I point at the structure protruding from the back of the massive building. Finally I find my voice. "That. That's an actual control tower. Isn't it?"
Jared laughs. "Yeah, it is. And that is one of Shelby's surprises. I'm pretty sure both of her surprises are in there, in fact."
"Really? In there?" Shelby stares at him, and by her expression I can see she's as overwhelmed as I am at our first glimpse of where we'll call home for the foreseeable future.
"I'm pretty sure they are," Jared repeats with a smile. "Shannon, you did say it's ready. Right?"
"That's what Magda said," Shannon affirms. "If so, Flora's team did a hell of a job in the short time they had to work in." He drops Shelby a wink.
Constance wraps an arm around my shoulders as I stand by her car, clutching my battered pack and feeling a little faint. "I did tell you that you could get lost in this place. I meant that literally. When I came out to see it, this was about a year before Jared bought it, I got turned around down on one of the lower levels. I had to call the realtor and have him navigate me out of there."
"And then you talked me into buying it," Jared grins.
"Who...who's Magda?" I manage. "And Flora?"
"Magda's my estate manager," Jared explains. "Magda Williams. You'll meet him. He's around here somewhere. That's his car over there." Jared sweeps an arm across the driveway, which isn't a driveway at all but a parking lot of black, smooth asphalt that could easily hold a couple dozen vehicles, and he points at the black Escalade parked at the far end. "Flora DuSchene is an interior and set designer, and Magda's girlfriend." His eyes scan the parking lot again. "Looks like everyone else has cleared out like I asked them to. Good."
"Everyone else?"
Jared looks at me. "I have a pretty big team that until now have worked from offices here at the house. But I leased space on Wilshire and had them move the offices there instead, at least on a temporary basis. I know I said you'd work with my assistant team on a daily, but on second thought, I think we all would do well with less of that chaos for the time being." He adjusts his crutches and lurches his way toward a double-doored entrance. Shannon goes ahead of him and stops at a keypad by the door, where he presses a few buttons. I notice a security camera affixed to the side of the house beaming down at him. In fact, I've noticed cameras everywhere since we pulled up at the big white gate in front of the property.
As Constance, Shelby, and I follow, flanking Jared on either side, I wonder how he's managed to arrange this move of his offices while laid up in the hospital. But then I remember who he is. Jared Leto. A man who probably has dozens of people at his fingertips that he can put in instantaneous motion with a single phone call. I also wonder if he made those changes to his business operations for our benefit, his own, or both.
If I'm mind-boggled by the sheer size of Jared's residence, I'm even more shocked by the interior, consisting of endless rooms and hallways, all which have an industrial look and feel. The main living areas of his home contain furniture that's strictly functional, with limited embellishments or adornments. Plain white walls, though colorful modern art breaks up the flow in nearly every room. Beautiful big Persian rugs, a few black lacquer tables, huge colorful pillows and beanbag chairs abound.
"We're really gonna live here," Shelby marvels as she takes in everything with wide, shining eyes. "This is so awesome! It's so huge!"
I'm no less astounded by the size of the place, but I'm more shocked by the minimalism, by the scuffed paint, the scratched and dingy flooring, which is clearly original from when the place was built. Other than the big Persian carpets which I suspect are silk, there's not a hint of over-the-top, self-indulgent luxury anywhere. But there's a peaceful kind of aura throughout the cavernous spaces, a beauty in its simplicity. Like its owner, Jared's home is full of contradictions and broken stereotypes.
"Jared painted these," Shannon confides as he shows us around a few of the main living areas, while Constance goes to the main kitchen to fix us all something to eat. "Almost all of them."
"Really?" Shelby looks wide-eyed at a landscape piece that hangs over a long, bright red sofa in yet another living room area illuminated by indirect ceiling lights. The sofa curves, hugging the corner of the room and each section is easily eight feet wide. So is the painting hanging above one side of it, and is almost as tall as it is wide. "It's so beautiful. Isn't it, Mom?"
I had no idea Jared's talents stretch to visual art, or that he is an imaginative and talented artist in his own right. I study the mammoth painting, recognizing the subject of it immediately. "That's El Capitan. In Yosemite." I look at Shannon. "Has he ever climbed it?"
Shannon nods. "Parts of it, like the East Buttress. That's fifteen hundred feet. He did that climb with a couple other guys. The Nose, no, he hasn't. But he wants to. In fact, that crazy little bastard said he wants to free-climb it. Solo. With no protective gear."
I gasp, aware that The Nose is three thousand feet of sheer granite that, even when utilizing every bit of protective gear, is over a half-mile of taking one's life in their hands. "But that's never been done. Has it?"
Shannon nods. "One guy did it this past June, in fact. Alex Honnold. He's one of the guys Jared climbed The Buttress with."
Shelby moves off to study the rest of the artwork hanging in the huge living room. I watch her for a moment, and then I shake my head. "Shannon, he has to realize that's completely impossible. When he fell in Oak Creek Canyon, it was because his knee gave out. Even when he heals, he won't be able to handle anything but the lightest climbs, and that's only if he's very lucky."
Shannon stares down at me, his expression somber as his honey-colored eyes pierce mine. "Don't tell him that, Lanie. Whatever you do, do not tell him he can't do it. It'll only make him more determined to prove you wrong."
"Mom, can I go see the control tower now?" Shelby asks.
"Do you know your way back to the kitchen?" Shannon says. "My mom can call Magda on the intercom from wherever he is and he'll show it to you." He grins. "You're gonna love it, kid."
"Really?" Shelby's eyes shine. "I gotta go see it!" She races through the huge archway and out of the room.
I turn my attention back to Jared's painting. "Mmm," I murmur, nodding. "Yeah, I can see that about Jared. Tell him he can't do something, he'll make a point to do it. Or, try to."
"Yeah. He wears determination like another layer of skin, but underneath it there's a lot you don't know about my brother." Shannon doesn't look at me as he says this; like me, he studies the painting instead for a moment and then he sighs. "Look, Lanie. I'm glad Shelby left the room because I...I wanted to talk to you about...about what I walked in on the other day. You and Jared, I mean."
Heat rushes to my face instantly and my insides quiver. "Oh, God," I mumble. "Yeah. That won't happen again."
That pulls Shannon's eyes back to me, and I think I read surprise, and—is that relief?—in their depths. "I'm just saying he's a complicated guy when it comes to women. He goes through them fast, usually juggling more than one at a time, but typically they know the score going into it. I thought Katia might end up to be someone special and maybe Jared himself thought it too at one point, but obviously that wasn't the case, either. Truth is, Jared hasn't had a serious exclusive relationship in years. Cameron was the last woman he truly loved."
He says this like I'm supposed to know who he's talking about. I do, but of course I don't let on that I do. "Cameron?"
"Cameron Diaz. You've heard of her, right?"
"I...I think so." I shrug. "Blonde actress. She was in a few movies I've seen. She's pretty famous."
"Was, yeah. She's not really doing much acting anymore. She married the lead singer of Good Charlotte a couple of years ago. They actually don't live too far from here." He rubs the scruff on his cheek and sighs again. "Anyway, like I said, Jared's complicated when it comes to women. He compartmentalizes them from his day-to-day life. With someone as driven as he is, with as many things as he's involved in, I think he has to keep them in a place where they can't distract him from his work, unless dating them is part of his work. Hollywood is rife with fake relationships arranged for nothing more than publicity and profile boosting." He crosses his arms and regards me levelly. "Jared's a beautiful person, inside and out, and I've seen how easily women fall in love with him. Can't blame them, I mean, look at the guy, right? On top of having those looks he also has a brilliant mind, he's hugely successful and the most talented person I've ever known. He's deep, and he's sensitive. But he's become jaded and cynical, too. He's kind of had to, in order to survive in Hollywood."
"You don't need to worry, Shannon," I assure him. "Believe me, I know where we stand. The last thing you have to worry about is me falling in love with your brother."
Shannon gives me a crooked grin. "Good. Yeah. Especially if you're living with him. Before long I think you'll be ready to kill him."
***
I stare around the control tower, hardly able to believe what I'm seeing. It's impossible that this was done in such a limited amount of time, but it was. The control tower has become a four-story tween paradise, with an elevator, a study room complete with a desk upon which sits a computer, a music room with its own karaoke machine on a stage and a dance floor, another floor with a seventy-inch LED television, gaming consoles and hot pink lounge chairs and tables, a functioning mini-kitchen to fix snacks complete with a sink, dishwasher, and a small fridge. On the very top floor, encased in windows on all four sides, is her bedroom and en-suite bathroom. The decor is a piece of forest brought indoors, with silk-leaved pine and oak trees, moon and star decals on the ceiling that glow in the dark, a working fireplace, thick dark green carpet under our feet, and the bed itself is a dream. It's a double bed with a comforter set in dark forest-green, Shelby's favorite color.
"Ty Pennington has nothing on my Flora," Magda Williams, a pleasant-looking thin man of about forty, says as Shelby stares stunned, speechless and overwhelmed at everything while tears stream down her face. He beams. "Jared told her what he wanted done, and she and her team did it." He waves his hand in a careless, fluttering gesture. "Piece of cake."
Piece of cake. Yeah. More like a big piece of money. Renovating this tower into a multi-floored child's dream space had to have cost a fortune I can't begin fathom. Or maybe I don't want to. My God, we'd have been content and more than grateful sharing a small bedroom consisting of a mattress on the floor with a couple of pillows and blankets. That's luxury by our standards.
A tiny sound startles me, and Shelby gasps as Shannon appears in her new bedroom with something moving in his arms. "These little fellas almost got away from me," he says with a chuckle. "Here you go, Shelby." He bends down and places two kittens, one gray and one solid black, in her arms.
"Oh, my God!" Shelby squeals, and she begins to cry harder. "They're mine?"
"Uh-huh. They just got dropped off." He looks at me. "They're rescues from an organization that Jared sponsors. There are supplies downstairs. You know, kitten food, litter boxes, litter, all that stuff. One of the housekeepers can set all that up."
I touch one of the kittens' heads and it begins to purr loudly. I continue to pet it, murmuring, "Oh my God, this is all so much, Shannon." I shake my head. "It's all too much."
Shannon slings an arm over my shoulder. "No, it's not. You and Shelby saved his life, Lanie, and trust me when I say that Jared's enjoying every minute of this. Except I know he wishes he was able to get around enough to show this to her himself. Now come see your bedroom."
"Can I stay here?" Shelby says, climbing on the bed with the two kittens still in her arms.
I smile, knowing I won't be able to pry her out of the tower for at least awhile. "Sure, but only for a little while. You need to go tell Jared what you think of all of this."
"Enjoy your rooms, Shelby," Magda tells her as he follows us to the elevator.
Rooms. Plural. I feel like Shelby and I have stepped into The Twilight Zone.
My own room is not the grand outfitted tower that Shelby's been given, but it's beautiful regardless. "Flora wasn't sure of the color scheme you'd prefer," Magda says as I step into the room. "Jared said to use her best judgment. So she went with neutral for now. You can have it changed if you like."
"No, it's...it's fine," I manage. Two opposite walls are a soft dove gray, the others white, and while I can tell efforts have been made to disguise the fresh paint odor, I can detect it. It smells fresh and clean and far more spacious and beautiful than anything I've ever called a bedroom before.
The bed is king-sized, with a peach and brown coverlet and huge fluffy pillows of tangerine and cocoa-brown. I move to the huge double-doors that lead to a slate patio deck, where I find a glass top table and a pair of chairs. Across the patio is a two-seated swing, the frame made of rustic logs. Further across the patio, I catch my breath as I spy a small waterfall built into the rocky, native hillside that cascades to a stream, over which is a pale blue footbridge.
"This is incredible," I tell Magda, still gazing outside. "It's so beautiful. But again, it's too much." My mind is whirling with conflicting thoughts. I'm overwhelmed, but I'm a little freaked out, too. While I've not seen Jared's own bedroom, the rest of the house has had barely any work done to it. Yet for Shelby and I, he's had rooms turned into showcases worthy of a magazine spread and countless entries on Pinterest. Why would he go to all of that trouble and expense?
"Lanie."
I whirl around and see Jared standing there with Magda in the doorway. His blue eyes are riveted on me, laser-like, and I wonder if I've spoken any of those thoughts out loud. He then confirms that I did, saying,"You and Shelby spent hours building that hut for me. You built that bed for me and gave me your sleeping bag while you went without. You went nights without sleep saving my life. So don't ask again why I did this." He inclines his head toward the front of the house. "Mom's fixed us all lunch. Think we can pry Shelby out of the tower long enough to eat?"
I smile a little at that. "Probably just long enough."
Magda excuses himself and heads off into another part of the house. As Jared and I walk toward the kitchen where an interesting combination of aromas tantalizes my nose, he says, "Ty'll be home from school in a couple of hours. He's really excited to meet Shelby."
"So Jimmy and Ty live here, too?" I inquire.
"Yeah. There's a wing on the southeast quadrant that's been converted into a separate house. Jimmy and Ty live there."
"I see. Is there a Mrs. Jimmy?"
Jared shakes his head. "There was. Her name was Brenda. She ran out on Jimmy and Ty when Ty was just a baby. Hooked up with some sleazeball WWE promoter." He glances at me. "Why? Interested?"
"What? No!" I exclaim. Why would he even ask something like that? I barely know the man.Jimmy's a nice guy from what I do know of him, and certainly attractive— tall, with an incredible build wrapped in beautiful, smooth chocolate-brown skin— but romantic interest in him hasn't even crossed my mind.
Jared shrugs as best as he can while maneuvering on his crutches around a corner. "Okay. Just asking." He nods at a closed door and lurches to a stop in front of it. "This is my bedroom. Wanna see it?" Without waiting for a response, he turns the doorknob, grins at me and says, "It's super-fancy, just to warn you." He pushes the door open.
I look inside and my eyes widen. Jared's bedroom is half the size of mine, and consists of a battered, plain tan loveseat and coffee table, both of which look like they came from Goodwill about thirty years ago. There are two small windows bare of curtains or blinds, and a mattress thrown on the floor with white sheets and a Navajo blanket spread over them. A laptop computer lays beside it, charging cord plugged into an outlet that's missing its faceplate. On the opposite wall from his bed is a medium-sized flat-panel television on a simple wooden stand. Next to that is a bookcase filled with hardcover titles I'm dying to inspect. Two orange beanbag chairs make up the rest of the furnishings in the room.
A portable closet is shoved against one corner of the small room. One of the doors is partially open and I can see clothes tightly jammed in there. A door leading to a small bathroom is next to it.
"Welcome to Casa de Leto. How do you like it?" Jared grins.
"It's...not quite what I expected, and yet, it kind of is."
"Yeah." He nods at the mattress on the floor. "Obviously, I have to do something about the bed. I forgot about how I'm going to manage getting on and off that."
"Yeah, because you were too busy doing Extreme Home Makeover for Shelby and me," I reply. "Jared, I know what you said, but it's still too much. I mean, I don't even know how long we're staying. Shelby and I are only going to be here until you're mostly healed, and that should be a matter of several weeks at most, right? Then once Todd's been dealt with, we're going home. So I don't know why you did all that renovation since we're only going to be here temporarily."
A sharp, pained look crosses his face, but it's gone as quickly as it appeared. So quickly I might be imagining it. A remote, slightly chilly expression fills his eyes instead. "I don't know, I suppose I'd hoped...I'd hoped you'd find a reason to stay in L.A. after that." He looks away. "Of course, if you want to go back to Minnesota, or on to Mexico for that matter, I guess that's your choice, isn't it?"
Knowing it's a rhetorical question, I say nothing to this. Jared sighs, and with a toss of his head, hops in a half circle and maneuvers his way out of his room. "Well. Like I said, lunch is ready, and afterward Shannon can show you around the grounds. There's not that much to see, really, other than the pool." His tone is cool, formal, lacking its usual smooth warmth as he speaks. "It's pretty nice back there, but the pool and the hedges and stuff have been neglected a bit lately." He adjusts the crutches and forges on down the hall, moving much faster this time. I trudge slowly behind him, watching his retreating form as a tiny voice inside me, one that I immediately try to silence, wonders if Shannon's words of warning have come just a little too late.