The Beach House

by Jolie Campbell

  "I assume so. I know what you're going to say. But don't worry about it. She always comes through when there's something big going on. She won't let Dennis and Lauren down, and she knows what a huge deal this is to them."

  "If you say so." He didn't look convinced.

  "Quinn, seriously. I know you've gotten a terrible impression of her. But really, she'll be great. When she's on, there is no one better."

  "I hope so. This meeting is really important for me. It's starting to get to the point where the shit with Maya and me isn't interesting anymore, and no one cares where I am."

  "Come on. That's ridiculous. The fans-"

  "No, Em. The fans are moving on. It's time for me to make a move. This is exactly the right time for me to make an announcement, my 'comeback,' or whatever. I want it to be the right thing, and these people could make it happen."

  "OK then. I'll make the Beach House look perfect and serve great food, and you be your charming, magnetic self. They won't be able to resist you."

  "Let's hope."

  Elaine was subdued at breakfast the next day. She seemed sober but she was nearly silent, floating around the living room and kitchen like a ghost. Usually she interacted with guests during the meal, finding out their plans for the day and offering tips and advice, but she was distracted even from that, barely speaking to anyone.

  Though I was concerned about her, nothing could dampen my mood. Things were going so well between Quinn and me. The night before we had gotten into a conversation about what his life is like when he's entrenched in a movie, and out of the blue he had started talking about ways he thought about making a relationship possible when he's working 14 hours a day. He mentioned a well-known actor friend who's in a happy, longstanding relationship with a non-actor, and dropped into the conversation that he had talked to this friend about me and asked for advice.

  After having this long, amazing talk that for me had been completely unexpected, we made long, amazing love on my sofa. And then again in my bed. And then I awoke early this morning to him doing crazy things to me with his tongue.

  Basically between how well things were going with us and all the intense sex of the last 18 hours, I was barely holding it together, trying hard to not collapse into a giggling heap.

  Eye on the ball, Emmy.

  Bopping around in the kitchen to Imagine Dragons on Pandora as I cleaned up from breakfast, it was several minutes before I realized that Elaine was sitting at the island. She was staring off into space.

  "Oh! Elaine, you startled me," I said with a smile. She looked up at me, her face blank. Her eyes filled with tears.

  I ran over and shut off the music.

  "Elaine? What is it?"

  "Emmy, come sit down, please," she said quietly, a rasp in her voice.

  I sat on the stool next to her, and she took my hand.

  "What is it? Are you all right? Elaine, is it your mother?"

  "Emmy, it's Mr. Matthews. I'm afraid he's had a stroke. He was visiting with Lauren's family last night and he just-"

  "Oh my God," I said, my voice catching as I fought back tears. "Where is he? Will he be OK?"

  "He's at Cedars-Sinai in L.A. They don't know yet, but… well, it's serious. I'm sorry, Emmy, I know how fond you are of him. We all are."

  "Thank you. Can we go visit him? Or at least send him some flowers, or some treats?"

  She sighed. "That's a good idea. I'm not sure, but I'll find out."

  CHAPTER 21

  I had the whole day mapped out, my usual prep list broken down hour by hour, so when it came time for Quinn's meeting at 4, I would have everything done for the following day. The kitchen would be spotless, I would be fresh from a shower in the downstairs bedroom and wearing clean clothes. The cheeses that needed to be at room temperature would be out on the counter. The tarts would be freshly filled with the custard I had made yesterday, so all they would require were the berries on top, which would be pre-washed, dried and sliced as needed.

  Quinn had been in LA the day and night before, preparing for the meeting. He was driving back with his agent and was due to arrive when the other guests did, so no one would know he was staying here.

  It was going to be perfect.

  We had spoken on the phone briefly right before I went to bed the night before, but I hadn't told him about Mr. Matthews. I knew he would be sweet and concerned, but right now he needed to focus on himself and this meeting. There would be plenty of time to talk about it later.

  Elaine had gone out earlier to get flowers and hadn't returned yet. I figured I had another hour before I had to start worrying about her. In the back of my mind, I knew I could always send Shari or Allen out for flowers at 3:15 if there was no sign of Elaine. But I couldn't imagine that happening. She had drummed into all of our heads how important this meeting was. She would never jeopardize it, no matter what else was going on.

  Just before 2 I was getting the berries out of the fridge when Julianne strode in, looking extremely tense.

  "Emmy! What the hell?"

  "Hi Julianne. What's wrong?"

  "What's wrong? Are you kidding me? This place is a mess! Where's the food? The room is supposed to be all set up! You're not dressed!"

  "Don't worry, I have it all planned out. We have plenty of time to-"

  "Plenty of time? No Emmy. We don't. What the hell is wrong with you? The meeting is starting in 5 minutes. They'll be here any second. Why don't you know that? What the fuck is going on here?" she hissed. "You think that now that you and Quinn are together, you can just slack off?" She made air quotes with her fingers around "together."

  "Julianne, hold on. No one is slacking off," I said, trying to keep my cool, though suddenly I felt short of breath. "I didn't know the time had changed. It's going to be OK. Can you greet everyone, while I get the room ready?"

  "Sure, I'll just do your job and mine, Emmy. Why not?" Her usually flawless face was twisted with rage.

  "Thank you. I'll be right back," I said calmly, ignoring her sarcasm.

  Luckily Shari had already cleaned the sunroom, it just needed to be set up. I quickly put the plates and napkins on the table, placed the glasses next to them, then ran to the kitchen to fill the ice bucket and grab the water and iced tea. Before running back with a tray of pitchers, I pulled out the cheeses that needed to breathe. After running the drinks out, I heard voices at the front desk.

  I came out of the kitchen as Julianne was leading the attendees, 4 men and 2 women, into the sunroom. It was clear who the executives and who the assistants were by their ages, the way they were dressed, and their demeanor. The executives acted like they owned the place.

  "Hello everyone, I'm Emmeline," I started to say.

  "Emmeline is the cook here," Julianne interrupted, then turned to me. "Did you need something?"

  "No, I was just about to say that I'll be serving refreshments in a few minutes, but if there's anything you would like that isn't provided, please feel free to call on me."

  "Thank you. What a lovely inn. What did you say your name was?" This from one of the executives, a woman who appeared to be in her mid-40s, with black hair in a sleek bob, dressed in a pearl-gray pencil skirt and white silk blouse. She was so lovely; I was reminded of how grimy I must look.

  "It's Emmeline, nice to meet you," I said, shaking her hand. "Welcome to the Beach House. I'll be back shortly."

  "Emmeline, what an unusual name," she replied with a quizzical look.

  I smiled. "Yes, I was named for a British suffragette my mother admires."

  She laughed. "How wonderful!"

  Julianne and I led the guests into the sunroom.

  Where the hell is Elaine?

  She was supposed to help me greet and pour drinks for the guests while I served the food and kept everything clean. Not only did we not have fresh flowers in the sunroom, we also didn't have anyone in the room with the guests to keep their glasses full and make sure they had everything they needed.

  I scurried off to th
e kitchen with a smile and nod to the other attendees, and caught Julianne's glare.

  Back in the kitchen I quickly regrouped. The cheeses that were supposed to be at room temperature were not going to make it. I set up the trays with the cheeses that were OK to serve cold, put the crackers I had made into napkin-lined baskets and spooned my fig and tomato jams into separate little dishes. Digging into the fridge, I found a few jars of various olives, so I put them in two dishes as well, and brought them out with the other food, along with toothpicks and small bowls for pits.

  I took everything out as quickly as I could without making it look like I was rushing, answered a few questions about the inn, and sped back to the kitchen.

  Quinn was in there waiting for me. He didn't look happy.

  "Em, what the fuck?" he whispered urgently, arms crossed.

  Jumping right back into work, I brushed past him without meeting his glare. I didn't like his tone. "Uh, hi to you, too," I muttered angrily, continuing to move around the kitchen.

  His mouth fell open.

  "Hi? You want hi? What the hell happened here? You know how important this meeting is."

  "Yes, I do. I didn't know the time had changed, obviously. I'm doing everything I can," I said. I wanted to strangle him for not immediately taking my side, at least giving me the benefit of the doubt, but that had to wait until later. Then I would kill him. Asshole.

  "How could you not know?" he spat out. "Have you been too distracted by, I mean, are we-?"

  That made me stop for a moment and face him directly. "Do you mean can I do my job and screw you at the same time? Yeah Quinn, I can. I can also walk and chew gum," I hissed, struggling to keep my voice down, shaking with anger. "I'm not as dumb as I must seem to you. I have this under control, so why don't you go do your job and let me do mine. Please?"

  I turned away to quickly get the tarts filled and topped with berries, and heard him leave.

  I put my game face back on and the meeting seemed to run smoothly. I was in and out of the room frequently, clearing dishes, replenishing drinks, serving the tarts.

  If the attendees noticed something was amiss, they didn't show it. The same woman who had greeted me earlier asked for a rate sheet and complimented me on the cheese selection and the tarts. One of the older gentlemen asked where I had bought the jams and gave me a pleased, raised-eyebrow nod when I said I had made them.

  By the time the meeting was over, I was wiped out. As everyone got ready to leave, I met them at the door.

  Just a few more minutes…

  And then Elaine appeared, stumbling and reeking of scotch. Our eyes met, and the look she gave me was inscrutable. She didn't say anything, just walked as straight and with as much dignity as she could muster to the kitchen, and I heard the door to the downstairs room open and close. I saw two of the attendees exchange looks.

  I said goodbye to everyone and thanked them, shaking hands and handing out little cellophane bags of granola I had made as takeaways. They were sealed with pretty Beach House stickers that listed the inn's web address.

  When everyone had left, it was just Quinn, Julianne and me.

  In spite of everything, I desperately wanted to know how the meeting had gone, whether the studio people were prepared to back Quinn's project.

  I was still angry with him, but I was also sad and disappointed that everything hadn't been perfect, that he'd had to stress about the details of the meeting.

  I thought—no, I knew—we could make a great team. I was crushed that our first endeavor together had been so rocky.

  I had imagined us celebrating together, him telling me every detail about what everyone had said, as we lay naked and spent in bed. Now we weren't even looking at each other.

  "Emmy, we need to talk. This is inexcusable," Julianne started.

  I held up my hand. "Julianne, obviously you're pissed. And you have every right to be. But I think all things considered, it went OK. We can talk about it tomorrow, and you can yell at me all you like. But I still have a ton of work to do right now and if it's all the same to you, I'd like to just get to it."

  I walked away from both of them, into the kitchen. Before I got out of earshot I heard Quinn say, “No Jules, let her go.”

  It took me hours to get everything cleaned up from the meeting and then set up for the next day, at least partly because I was so distracted.

  I heard Julianne leave, and Quinn didn’t come out of his room again. On one hand, I kept wondering what had happened. Had Elaine just forgotten to tell me that the meeting time had changed? Or had she done it on purpose to create a reason to fire me? After all this time I didn't want to believe she could do that, but she had looked at me so strangely when she came in and she had been threatening me for weeks.

  When Dennis and Lauren found out the meeting hadn't been perfect—as they were bound to soon, if Julianne hadn't told them already—someone would get the ax.

  The most obvious choice was me. Maybe everyone did think I was distracted by my relationship with Quinn. Maybe I was. Was I?

  No. That couldn't be it. I wouldn't have just forgotten. There was no way.

  I wasn't going to let her blame me. There was no goddamn way I was going to take the fall for her. I had worked so hard and was so close to something good happening, I could feel it. I had to find a way to protect myself.

  I went back and forth between thinking about that and wondering what would happen next with Quinn. Why had he been so quick to think it was my fault? Didn't he believe in me, trust in my abilities? Or was I still, somewhere in his mind, just some service worker?

  And even if it had been my fault, he could have been nicer about it. Even if he was pissed at me, he still could have...

  Sighing as I finally climbed into bed, I resigned myself to the fact that I had to just wait and see how he approached me. If he was nice and apologetic, we would talk it over and then move on.

  If he was still angry though, and didn't see my side of it or think he needed to apologize, maybe I didn't know him as well as I thought.

  CHAPTER 22

  I needn't have wondered about my first encounter with Quinn the next day. He left before I arrived at work in the morning. Shari said he had told her he was going to visit friends in Santa Barbara and wouldn't be back for two days. He hadn't left me a note or sent me a text. Just... silence.

  I went about my day, watering the bougainvillea, making a batch of pie crusts to freeze, boiling ginger simple syrup and using it to sweeten a few pitchers of blackberry lemonade. But everything reminded me of Quinn. Watering the flowers made me think of the day I sprayed him with the hose. I wondered with everything I cooked whether he would enjoy it, or if it would make him wrinkle his nose. I kept his favorite artist, City & Colour, on Pandora all day.

  Heather and Tim and the other guests drifted in and out. Anna came into the kitchen with a list of cleaning supplies for me to order. I answered the phone, gave out information, took reservations, made notes for Elaine. I went through all the usual motions, but it felt like I was on autopilot. My smile was plastered on, warmth in my voice put on with effort.

  Quinn, where are you? What are you thinking?

  I was angry at him, but also so sad and empty. He had dismissed me so easily, assumed I messed up and got angry, then disappeared without a word. Maybe I had been wrong the whole time. Maybe I couldn't trust him. Maybe he wasn't really serious about me.

  No matter what was going on, it hurt so much. And in spite of everything, I missed him.

  "Good afternoon, the Beach House, this is Emmeline, how may I help you?"

  "Emmy, please put Elaine on," Dennis said in a clipped tone. He sounded angry.

  This is it.

  I hadn't seen Elaine yet, wasn't sure if she had slipped out or if she was still sleeping it off.

  "Hi Dennis. You know, I think she's -"

  "Emmy, I need to speak to her right now. Is she there? If not I'll call her cell."

  My heart was pounding; I had never heard
Dennis so angry. Even when there had been mistakes over the years, he had never shown any emotion. He certainly had never been so short with me.

  I'm going to be fired. He wants to tell Elaine right away to get rid of me. He thinks I let them down, and right after they gave me a raise.

  "Dennis, I haven't seen her, I'm sorry. She might be downstairs, or she may have gone out. Do you want me to check the bedroom and call you right back?"

  That would buy me some time to think about how to handle this.

  He blew out a sharp breath, exasperated. "Put me on hold. I'll wait."

  "Oh, OK. I'll be right back."

  I pressed the "hold" button, dropped the phone and ran downstairs as fast as I could. The door to the little bedroom was locked. Elaine was still in there, and it was nearing 1:30 in the afternoon.

  Now what?

  I ran back up to the front desk and picked up the phone.

  "Dennis, hi. She must have gone out. Can I take a message for her, or help you with anything myself? I-"

  "No, thank you. I'm going to try her cell."

  "OK. I think she might have left it here-"

  "To charge, right?"

  Busted.

  "Um, yeah. I think it's in the kitchen charging."

  There was a pause.

  Maybe he's just going to fire me himself. Goddamn it. I won't be able to help my mother until I get another job, get back on my feet. Who knows how long that will take? Especially if I don't have a reference from the Beach House. In the meantime I'll have to use my culinary school savings to pay my bills every month, and then-

  "Emmy, I need to ask you a question, and I expect you to be honest with me." Dennis's raspy voice was low, and he spoke slowly. He didn't sound angry now, just serious.

  "Of course, Dennis."

  "Is Elaine there? Is she in the overnight bedroom?"

  I hesitated.

  "Tell me the truth," he insisted.

  "Well, the door is locked," I stammered.

  "Have you seen her today?"

  "N-no. Not yet. But it could be that-"