by Bebe Wilde
When I got there, I saw that the house was still completely empty and the truck with all the furniture and art work and accessories wasn’t there yet. Quinn and I waited outside, sitting on the curb.
“God, I love this house,” I told her, staring at it. “I wish I had the money to buy it.”
She glanced over her shoulder at it and shrugged. “But you live at the beach, which is much nicer than this.”
“If you say so,” I muttered.
She chuckled, then glanced over at the Beast, which looked totally out of place in this posh neighborhood. “I see you’re driving the Beast today,” she said and laughed a little.
I tried not to growl. I glanced over at her and took in her cool outfit of black skinny jeans, a super nice white blousy top and ankle boots. She was tall, thin and a true Californian blonde beauty. She was so fabulously stylish that a lot of people thought she was a snob, but she wasn’t. She was actually one of the most down to earth people I’d ever known. She and I met just after I had started dating Bear and was working at a small restaurant not far from our house. She lived near there, too, in a nice condo and would occasionally stop in for lunch or dinner or whatever.
Like many young people who move to Hollywood, I had come out here with my boyfriend at the time, Jed, with the idea of being an actress. Jed had wanted to be a director and had talked me into moving from our small East Tennessee town. But after a few half-assed attempts and not much success, I had gone to work as most others do, as a waitress. Of course, at that point, I had broken up with Jed and had completely given up on acting.
Anyway, Quinn came in one day and sat at one of my tables and then we just started talking. She was cool and I liked her. And, so, she became a regular. She told me about her business and how she was referred to as the “rock star” of house staging, which she laughed at because she completely got the irony of that statement. But it was true; she was the rock star of house staging because she never hesitated to put skull and crossbones, or any other outrageous element for that matter, into any house, no matter how seemingly inappropriate it seemed. And she couldn’t get enough of leather chesterfield couches. As a result, prospective buyers were always intrigued and usually left with a good impression of the houses. Her clients loved her for it and, as a result, she got a good reputation and a lot of work.
One morning after we had become friends, I was having a super bad day at the restaurant. The other waitress had quit and I was scrambling to cover all the tables in the restaurant. Quinn, who had just stopped by for a quick breakfast, saw my distress and got up out of her seat and without saying a word, started to help me. She simply just picked up a notepad, went to a table and started taking orders. She hustled and bustled with me all morning. It was one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for me and I insisted we split the tips at the end of my shift. She took her part and then said we should hit the town that night with it. I didn’t argue so we went club hopping for a few hours. But we got bored after a while and I invited her back to my house, which was filled with about twenty surfers Bear had picked up here and there. He had apparently invited them over for an impromptu party. He did stuff like that all the time so it didn’t faze me to walk into a house filled with party animals. I invited her in and she had the best time of her life, playing beer pong, dancing to cool music, making out with a hot surfer, running down to the beach during the middle of the night and jumping into the water and then falling asleep in the couch.
The next morning, she begged me to come work with her, telling me she needed someone fun to work with because house staging, while lucrative, could sometimes be a bit boring. Plus, she liked my style and told me she loved the way I’d decorated the house. “We could marry our two styles,” she said. “You’re more of a laid back, hippy vibe and I’m more rock and roll modern and chic. Together, we could rock it out.”
“But Quinn,” I told her. “I got all this stuff because I don’t have a lot of money. This stuff is all I could afford. I don’t know think anyone would want this in a house they’re trying to sell.”
“You’re not thinking of it the right way,” she said and waved her hand around the living room. “That old credenza in apple green? Love it!”
“Dumpster find,” I said. “And it looked hideous when I found it. And was about to fall apart. Bear fixed it in the garage out back. He used a lot of wood glue and small, tiny nails. It took him, like, two days. And I painted it.”
“But you had the vision,” she said and then patted the couch. “And this? Gorgeous!”
I studied her for a moment, then glanced at the couch. It was an old seventies couch that I’d paid forty bucks for at a garage sale. It had great bones but was a very ugly yellowish color when I got it. After a lot of bartering, I’d gotten one of Bear’s friends, Trent, whose parents owned an upholstery shop, to recover it in a deep chenille tweed brown and to reinforce the frame and cushions. I’d wanted to go with a lighter color but with Bear around, that would have been couch suicide. Yeah, it looked good but it wasn’t expensive. Aside from the forty dollars, all I really had in it was part of Bear’s pot stash and unlimited snacks whenever Trent came over.
“It’s great,” she said, nodding.
“Listen, I grew up with a single mom,” I said. “And we didn’t have much money. We went to flea markets and yard sales because we had to. We had to buy our stuff cheap and fix it up.”
“Necessity is the mother of invention,” she told me knowingly. “I don’t know who said that, but it’s so true. You have a real knack for this stuff.”
“I think it was Plato,” Bear called from the kitchen, then added, “Or was it Frank Zappa?”
Quinn and I glanced at each other, then cracked up. I stopped laughing and said, “Okay. I guess.”
“You have to come work for me,” she said. “I will pay you better than what you’re making now.”
“Really?” I said and leaned back to study her. She was serious. “But I make really good tips at the restaurant.”
“How old are you?” she asked.
“Almost twenty-eight,” I said.
“Do you really only want to be a waitress?” she said. “You’ll be thirty soon. You need a better income.”
I thought about it. I said, “Well, if you believe I can do it, I can give it a try. But if it doesn’t work out, let’s not hate each other and not be friends anymore, okay? I haven’t met any good friends since I’ve been here and I don’t want to lose the one I have.”
“I can hear you!” Bear yelled. “I’m your best friend!”
“Shut up!” I yelled back. I shook my head and explained, “We’ve only really been together about six months. He’s crazy.”
Quinn leaned in and said, “Yeah, crazy for you. You know, he was the shit once, don’t you? He used to be like one of the world’s biggest surfers.”
“Yeah, he keeps telling me that,” I said and rolled my eyes.
“I heard that, too!” Bear yelled and came out. “I was the shit, Willa! You should recognize.”
“Really? I should?” I said.
He pointed at me. “Don’t poke the bear!”
Quinn and I cracked up and shook our heads at him. That was his catchphrase or whatever it’s called when he was surfing professionally. If some asshole dropped in on him, he’d better watch out. “Don’t poke the Bear!” the crowd would yell. Apparently, I didn’t care as much as his fans had and I was continually poking the Bear. But then again, he usually poked back.
I stared at him, then looked back at Quinn and said, “I think I’ll try it. But if I don’t like it, I want to go back to waitressing. I actually like waitressing, which I know is crazy.” I held out my hand. “And no hard feelings if it doesn’t work out?”
“No hard feelings,” she said and shook my hand.
That was five years ago. We’ve been working together ever since. And she was a great boss. She gave me good raises and let me have time off whenev
er I wanted. We also had this thing we call “curating,” which meant we went out on the weekends to flea markets and yard sales and looked for neat stuff to put into the houses. Sometimes we had to fix the items up, but we always found great stuff for the houses we staged. Quinn had a small warehouse filled with stuff we had found.
In other words, I loved my job. But, at the same time, I wondered if I was ever going to do anything else. Like, what if this was it? Where was I going? What could I do? Bear knew he wanted to surf his whole life. But me? House staging was nice, but was it really what I wanted to do?
I shook my head and found myself back at the house in Los Feliz staring at the big moving truck making its way towards us. It was time to hustle.
“Let’s get to work,” Quinn said and stood, dusting the back of her pants off.
And so we got to work. With the help of the Quinn’s two movers, we took all the stuff out of the truck and into the house. Once the truck was emptied, the movers helped us arrange all the big pieces of furniture in the rooms, then, once satisfied, Quinn sent them on their way. Next, we started on the artwork and then the accessories. We worked for a solid three hours before I fell on the couch in the now fabulous living room.
Quinn stood back and studied the couch, then shook her finger at me. “Get up. I want to move it over there.”
I groaned and got up and then we moved it to the opposite side of the room, stood back and studied it, then called it done. ‘Thank God,” I said and plopped back down on the sofa. “I am so ready for the weekend.”
“It’s the Rose Bowl tomorrow,” she said.
I groaned. She wasn’t talking about the football game, but rather the flea market which was fantastic, of course, but I really needed a break. I told her this. She stared at me then plopped down beside me on the couch. “Please don’t make me go,” I pleaded.
“What else do you have to do?” she asked.
“Nothing,” I said. “But sleep in. And I also need to see about getting my car fixed. Bear promised he’d take care of it, but who knows what those waves are doing. He could be out there all day. And my car could still be sitting in the driveway.”
“That sucks,” she said.
“Damn it. I wish I had the money for a new one,” I said, thinking about it.
She nodded. “I could lend you the money for one.”
“No thanks,” I said. “I can get a loan or whatever if I have to; I just don’t want to get back into the payment plan thing.”
“I understand that,” she said and then paused before saying, “Listen, I’ve been thinking. How about this? How about I make you a partner?”
I stared at her. “Really?”
She nodded and seemed to get really excited. “Yeah, really. I want to expand the business and I can’t do that by myself. I need people I can trust. You can help me hire them. And then you and I can train them and send them out to houses to stage. We’d make double the money or even more if we can organize it right. We could also spend more time curating. And we could get serious about selling some of the furniture we fix up. People always want to buy it.”
I looked away and thought about it. For some reason, I just wasn’t digging the idea. I knew she loved this kind of work and I liked it, too, but the thought of locking myself into a job like this seemed… Well, so permanent. Like if I took it, that would be all there ever was for me.
“Well, don’t get too excited about it,” she said dryly after noticing I didn’t immediately jump on her proposal.
“No, I love the idea and thanks for the offer,” I said. “It’s just… I don’t know what to do. I want to make more money and all that, but this is a big commitment for me. I’m not as ambitious as you are.”
“Bullshit,” she said. “You are, too. You’re out there with me every weekend finding stuff and giving me great ideas about how to fix it.”
“That’s true,” I muttered. “I don’t know. Let me think about it. I’m in a weird mood today. It’s really nothing to do with you.”
“Then what is it?” she asked. “Are you and Bear fighting?”
“We don’t fight,” I said. “I yell at him, he takes it and we move on.”
“That’s funny,” she said and laughed.
“What’s funny?” I asked.
“You’re this petite woman who bosses this big surfer guy around,” she said.
“You’ve always been in awe of him,” I said. “Is he really that impressive?”
“Yeah, he really is,” she said. “Just look at all those trophies stacked from floor to ceiling in your garage.”
“I know,” I said. “I always have to move them whenever I need something out of there.”
“Why doesn’t he do it anymore? Surf professionally?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve asked and he just says that time of his life is over and he wants to surf for the enjoyment of it not just to win a contest. And he walked away from a lot. He had all these sponsorships and made some serious bank. And now he makes nothing. Well, every once in a while he’ll do a public appearance or go to a boat show or something. That brings in a little but it’s sporadic. God that’s so annoying! Do you see why he drives me crazy?”
“Yeah, I get it,” she said.
Well, I was glad someone did. I mean, Bear’s a great guy. He was really laid back and funny, but his complete and total lack of ambition for anything other than surfing drove me up the wall. And to think he just walked away from all those sponsorships, from all that money, from that globetrotting lifestyle was just crazy. But what could I do about it? I mean, other than get annoyed?
“Do you think something happened?” Quinn asked.
“Like what?”
“Something bad to make him quit,” she said dramatically. “Like he almost killed himself or something.”
I laughed a little at the way she said that, then thought about it, then said, “Nah, ’cause he has no fear. He still surfs every single day and he does some pretty dangerous stuff.” I paused and sighed. “I really don’t know why, Quinn. Bear is a mystery. I’m over asking him about it.”
She nodded that she understood, then asked, “How many world championships did he win?”
I shrugged, then I got it. It suddenly became clear to me what I was feeling. “See! That’s it! He’s done all this stuff! You’ve done all this stuff, too! I haven’t done shit!”
“What have I done?” she asked.
“You graduated from design school, started your own business and look fabulous all the time. You’ve done a lot.”
“You look fabulous all the time, too!”
I groaned. It wasn’t that. I knew I looked good, too, especially since I’d started dressing more like her. But none of this was mine. I didn’t give birth to any great idea and then execute it. I hadn’t actually accomplished anything of my own, other than bag a former world champion surfer. I couldn’t help but feel like a loser.
“Willa,” she said. “Listen. You’re a great person. Everyone loves you. And you know how to take pieces of furniture that are nothing and turn them into something. My business has tripled since you started working for me. I know we can do even more than that together. If you’re fully invested in the work, that is. Think about it, okay?”
I nodded. “I will,” I said. “And thanks for the offer. I really do appreciate it.”
“Maybe you’re just going through some existential angst,” she said.
“Maybe,” I muttered and wondered if that was it.
She sighed. “Okay. Now let’s get out of there and get a burger. I’m starving.”
“We coming back later to finish up?” I asked, looking around.
“We are,” she said. “But first, lunch.”
“You driving?” I asked.
“I can,” she said.
We left the house and got into her vintage silver Mercedes convertible. It was so cool, just like her. As we drove, I couldn’t help but sta
rt to fall into a tiny depression. I wondered what was going on with me. Maybe Quinn was right and I was just feeling some existential angst or something. But more than likely, I knew it was because I felt like I hadn’t accomplished enough in my life to afford that house we’d just staged. Sure, if I partnered with Quinn, I’d make a lot more money but it still wouldn’t be enough for that house. And I really wanted it. It was a reminder of the fact that I hadn’t accomplished anything.
I stared out the window and wondered if that was my problem, always worrying about money. It probably was. Bear had made a ton of money surfing professionally but had spent most of it before he and I had even met. I’d never made any real money and so we lived a simple life. Even so, he had made sure to put money aside so he could always do what he loved best—surf. But that didn’t leave much for extras. And I was cool with this, most of the time. However, the fact of the matter was that we were getting older and we needed to start thinking about a plan for our future. And, quite honestly, I coveted that house in Los Feliz. If I ever won the lottery, that house would be mine. And that’s when I knew why I was depressed—I wanted to live in a real house, not some beach shack that my boyfriend had bought years before he had even met me. I wanted a house like that, with all the bells and whistles and space to move around. I wanted my own house, not someone else’s.
But what if… What if Quinn and I worked really hard and turned her staging business into more than it was now? What if we could triple the business? We could make a lot of money, then I might be able to get Bear to sell the beach house and then we could afford something bigger, maybe even that house. It was possible. Bear had bought his beach shack for next to nothing, relatively speaking, and the property values had skyrocketed since. Realizing this, I was able to make up my mind and want to join her in her business. Besides, what else was I doing? I would be a fool to walk away from an opportunity like this.
“I’ll do it,” I said, turning to Quinn. “I’ll partner with you!”
She broke out into a big smile. “Cool!”
