Caroline was still chuckling about my stripper nipple incident as we were driving to work the next morning. She had listened with rapt attention when I recounted my experience on the way home the night before, and proceeded to do exactly what I thought she would – tease me mercilessly about it until I almost regretted telling her in the first place.
She pulled into the garage and parked her navy blue Toyota Corolla in our usual parking space. “I can’t believe I missed seeing it for myself,” she exclaimed, disappointed.
“I know. It’s a travesty, really,” I said.
“Yes,” she agreed, ignoring my sarcasm. “A real travesty.”
We climbed out of the car and walked the familiar route through the parking garage, past the Gelson’s Supermarket and up the stairs to the main level of the Century City Shopping Mall.
When our senior year of college started, Caroline and I began thinking about day jobs for us. We wanted somewhere we could work together and share the same hours, since we only had the one car. Preferably these hours were flexible so it was easy to get time off if a film industry opportunity presented itself.
Caroline had made an important discovery within the first month of exploring Los Angeles – The Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf. She fell in love with their iced blended coffee immediately, so much so she was still standing in the store when she called me to rave about it.
“You’ve got to come out here and try this!” she exclaimed between strawfuls of her drink. “Coffee Bean is the best thing ever!” I got a similar call when she found an In N Out Burger. And a Jamba Juice.
Regardless of her obsession, she never thought of actually working in a Coffee Bean. There weren’t any close to campus and thus not an extremely practical place of employment. In the fall of our senior year, after enjoying three years worth of Coffee Bean beverages, she happened to be in one that had just opened between the Farmer’s Market and The Grove Mall. The Grove, a very upscale outdoor shopping area, was itself newly built and Coffee Bean was merely one of several businesses trying to take advantage of the new hot spot. This particular Bean was so new, its manager was still looking for employees. On a whim, and egged on by the friends she was with, she filled out an application. Before she knew what was happening, the manager got in touch with her and she was working three shifts a week.
Caroline did not like working at the Bean even though she was getting all the free coffee drinks she wanted. The pay wasn’t that great and the stream of customers was so constant, there was absolutely no down time. Her mood changed after she had been working there about two weeks and she called me very excited.
“You’ll never guess who just got coffee here,” she said quickly.
“I give up,” I answered. I was cramming for an exam and had little patience for guessing games.
“Tobey Maguire,” she said. “Can you believe that?”
I sighed. I could believe that. She was out in Los Angeles, after all.
“Isn’t that cool?” she went on after a moment of my silence. “Apparently there are a lot of celebrities that shop here at The Grove. I heard from this girl Caitlin who works at The Gap that she once helped Drew Barrymore pick out a sweater. I love her, it would be so awesome if she came in here.” She sighed longingly.
“Well, when she comes in, make her the best coffee she’s ever had. Maybe she’ll like it so much she’ll give you a job,” I said offhandedly.
There was silence on the other end of the phone. It was such a long silence, I thought we got disconnected.
“Hello? Caroline?” I said.
“That’s not a bad idea,” she said finally. I could hear her mental wheels turning.
“I was kidding,” I said. “I have faith in your coffee making skills, but making an impression on one cup -”
“But what if it wasn’t just one?” she cut in. “What if I – we – could make a good impression on regular clientele that happened to be in the movie business? That could lead to a job, maybe. Right?”
For the first time during this conversation, I picked my head up from my book and really took in what Caroline was saying. She had a point.
Thirty seconds later I had put my book down, my laptop open and was looking at the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf’s locations page of their website.
“Okay,” Caroline said, thinking aloud. “We need a location that is near a large concentration of film biz people.”
“A studio lot,” I said suddenly, remembering my first visit to Caroline at school. We did one of those trolley tours around Universal.
“Yes, good,” Caroline said. “Let’s see if any Coffee Beans are around the major studios. Warner Brothers, Paramount, Universal, Sony and Fox. Let’s start with those.”
“All right,” I replied. “Where is Warner Brothers?”
Caroline walked me through the list of studios one at a time. She knew exactly where each one was. She had taken advantage of the past three years in Los Angeles by visiting each of these studios at least once for free screenings, show tapings and tours. It turned out many of the lots had Coffee Beans in the vicinity. Caroline sighed into the phone, thinking.
“Which one do you think is best?” I asked her after a moment. I couldn’t give her my opinion, I did’nt know enough about the geography of Los Angeles to be helpful.
“I think we should pick the Century City Mall location,” she said slowly.
“Okay. Why? Just curious,” I asked.
“Because, it is the only location in a mall,” she said. “There’s a movie theater. I think those things could attract even more studio people and multiply our opportunities.” Caroline was all about multiplying opportunities.
She started devising a way to extract herself from The Grove location. She became the perfect employee – always happily taking extra shifts, coming to work early and habitually cleaned the place spotless without being asked. By the time spring semester started and she asked for the transfer, her manager liked her enough to make it happen but was sorry to see her go. She didn’t waste time and paved the way for me to join her. I’m not really sure what was involved, she wouldn’t tell me, but she made sure by the time I arrived that I had a job waiting for me.
After being in LA for a week, I was starting to enjoy crisp, dry sunny mornings like this. The mall was completely still as we made our way down one of the open walkways towards Coffee Bean. The layout of the mall was a giant square and all four sides were lined with your typical stores with a few unique shops sprinkled amongst them. The movie theater, food court, and a small cluster of restaurants were on the northwest corner, and a Bloomingdale’s loomed in the mall’s center like a giant bull’s eye.
The Coffee Bean was tucked away from the general mall traffic at the dead end of a smaller avenue on the southwest corner. Business wise it wasn’t the best location. Coffee Bean sensed this and plastered ads about its existence all over the mall, but it didn’t help much. It was great for us because our patrons were mostly regular customers from the surrounding area, including people from the Fox lot.
The bell on the glass door jingled as we breezed through it. The door was unlocked, which meant our boss, Solomon, was already there. He had arrived early to meet a drop-off of Coffee Bean paraphernalia. He loathed coming in early for shipments like this, preferring to roll in midday and leave us to open and take on the morning crowd ourselves.
“Good morning, Solomon,” I called out cheerfully.
He popped his head out of the back room.
“Morning,” he replied, and gave me a short half-wave. He was not a cheerful person. He was short, with dark beady eyes and chestnut-colored hair, though he had nothing left of it but a few tufts on top. His torso was thick and lumpy like a sack of potatoes, its irregular shape made the spaces between the buttons of his shirt gape open distastefully. He didn’t seem to notice.
He slipped out of the back room as we went in to drop our bags and put our aprons on. Our nametags and black aprons were the extent of our Coffee Bean employee uniform. The drop-off must have already happened because the back room was stuffed full of cardboard boxes.
“How’d it go yesterday?” Caroline called out to Solomon as she put her apron strap over her head. We had to ask for the day off to work on the movie and Solomon wasn’t too happy about it. We were by far his most reliable employees and he took tremendous advantage by not being around during our shifts. When his other rag-tag employees were working he didn’t allow himself that luxury.
“Fine,” he said evenly. We both shimmied around the boxes and came back out into the store. He stepped out from behind the counter. “I trust you two are okay to open by yourselves?” he asked. We nodded. “Good,” he said, an obvious change in his tone. “I’m going to go shopping down in Santa Monica. I need new shoes. Don’t forget to unpack the boxes,” he added. With that, he made a beeline for the door and disappeared.
We opened a few minutes early out of sheer boredom. It was a Saturday, and since most of the business people who came in worked Monday through Friday, we anticipated a slow morning. After we opened the register, Caroline turned to me.
“You want to unpack the new shipment of merchandise? We can create a new display.”
I sighed. I liked creating a tower of water bottles as much as the next person. But merchandise arranging was really Caroline’s thing.
“Okay, sure,” I said.
She headed to the back room while I cleared out the extremely thin existing displays. Moments later, she expertly dollied out a stack of boxes and slashed open the top one with box cutters. We proceeded to unpack the metal water containers that were neatly arrayed within.
“Do you find it ironic that these bottles are supposed to encourage people not to use plastic bottles, but they’re packed with enough Styrofoam to build a small village?” I asked about halfway through the arranging. I handed a couple of bottles to Caroline.
“Mmm,” she said, not really listening. She was in the zone – trying to align a row of bottles so if you looked at them from head on, the images stamped on the front of them looked collaged together.
“What’s next?” she asked when she had gotten the bottles just right. I retrieved a new stack of boxes, and slashed open the top one as she had done.
“Tea,” I said when I saw what was inside.
“Oooh,” Caroline said excitedly as she rubbed her hands together. The loose leaf teas were packaged in square tin boxes and thus it was very easy to create all kinds of fun shapes with them. She was in the middle of building them to look like a castle rampart when the bell on the door jingled.
We turned to see our first customer of the day – a harsh-looking petite young woman. She had very dark hair, wore big dark sunglasses and was dressed entirely in black, which made her pasty white skin look even pastier. The only hint of color anywhere was her bright red lipstick. She power walked up to the counter with her cell phone pressed to her ear, annoyed.
“No, no, no. That’s not what we talked about……No, that’s not what she said, she said she’s get back to you.”
The woman looked around impatiently for assistance, not noticing us because we were obscured by the rampart of tea tins. After losing a quick game of rock paper scissor to Caroline, I came around to the counter to take her order.
“Hang on one sec,” she said into the phone once she spotted me. “Yeah,” she said. “I need two large iced coffees, each with two Splendas.” I rang her up and she paid. When I went over to make the coffees, she sat down at a table and continued to talk on her cell phone.
“Look, Peter,” she said loudly. “I don’t know what to tell you. She’s not going to do it. Especially not now, since you tried to back her into a corner……I don’t care, that’s the reality of the situation. It’s important that you understand this.”
She was still talking on the phone when I signaled that her coffees were ready. I think she saw me, but made no effort to get up, then finally gestured to me like she wanted me to bring them to her. Coffee Bean had a strict policy about being a self-serve establishment. Caroline constantly disregarded this rule as a means to impress our film business patrons. I sighed exasperatedly. Caroline caught my eye and gestured for me to bring them over to her. I reluctantly came out from behind the counter and put the coffees on the table she was sitting at. She looked at them, then at me, gesturing for a holder. I grabbed one from the counter, secured her coffees, and she grabbed it then left.
“What was with Goth Chick?” Caroline asked as she cleared away the empty cardboard boxes, admiring her handiwork.
I shrugged. “Have you seen here before?” I asked.
Caroline shook her head. “No. But she could definitely work in the business. Had that vibe.”
Caroline was very adept at being able to tell which of our customers were film business people and which ones weren’t. I was learning this subtle but useful skill and still had to defer to Caroline’s judgment when it came to picking them out. “It’s not a hard science,” she had said to me after my first day working at Coffee Bean. “It’s more of a gut feeling. A heightened sense of things.”
I thought about this advice as I mulled over my interaction with the Goth Chick. “But it’s a Saturday,” I said, trying to challenge Caroline’s assessment.
She shrugged. “You never know. Film people could come into work on a Saturday.”
“Yeah,” I agreed after a moment. “I suppose that is true.”
Our customers for the rest of the morning were few and far between. When we approached lunch time it started to pick up, and for about forty-five minutes we had a constant stream of customers getting their coffee fix while doing their Saturday shopping. Solomon came back briefly and checked out our product displays. By then we had done all of them and disposed of their packaging. Seemingly satisfied with our work he left again, announcing he had lunch plans.
In a lull, Caroline and I were combing through The Hollywood Reporter and reading about the movies that were in production, when we heard the door bell jingle and a voice say, “Omigod, you are not going to believe this.”
We looked up towards the door. Lee Barclay, the recently promoted assistant manager of Yankee Candle, was coming right for us in a huff. He was armed with a magazine he had rolled up like he was about to smack someone with it.
Lee looked like a force to be reckoned with – he was incredibly tall and lanky and his hands were so large he could pick up a basketball using just one of them. His hair was buzzed short against his scalp and he was, in his own words, the color of dark chocolate. I speculated that may have even been his handle in some gay online chatroom circles.
When he got to us, he unrolled the magazine and held it up. It was a People, Lee’s main source for news. On the cover there was a picture of actress Jennifer Church with the headline It’s Time to Move On. Underneath the main title was a subtitle, Jennifer Church Talks About Leaving Deacon’s Landing.
“The rumors are true then I guess,” I said, looking at the cover.
Jennifer Church was a blonde, blue-eyed, statuesque young woman who had a reputation for speaking her mind and often had to weather the media backlash by doing so. She was the latest up-and-comer who had worked her way from obscurity to a hit TV show, then after a few seasons of it decided to leave to pursue a career in movies. Her story wasn’t new, though I did like her on Deacon’s Landing – a show about a group of lawyers working at a Seattle firm. I was bummed about her leaving it. Once original cast members left my favorite shows, my interest in them usually waned.
Lee leaned against the counter and flipped through the magazine. This was his ritual. Every week, he came over to the Coffee Bean with the newest issue of People and read its entire contents aloud including the crossword. He expected us to participate in his running commentary, regardless of how busy we were or if we were even interested at all. Our schedule was irrelevant.
“Is Solomon here? He mentioned he liked the show, I wanted to make sure he knew,” he said as if delivering the news that someone had just passed away.
“No, honey,” Caroline said.
“Oh. Okay then,” Lee answered.
Solomon was Lee’s initial inspiration for coming over with People in the first place. A couple of weeks after Caroline’s transfer, Lee came in to order a coffee and spotted Solomon reading the magazine. He struck up a conversation with him about the cover story. As a result of his avid interest in entertainment magazines including People, Lee was a human encyclopedia when it came to pop culture and had no problem making small talk.
Lee’s interest in Solomon didn’t seem to be anything more than a young gay man seeking the guidance and mentorship of an older one. Caroline and I didn’t understand why Lee would pursue such a socially inept guy like Solomon for a relationship like that. Nor did we get why Solomon wasn’t more flattered by a young and handsome guy like Lee being interested in him. Solomon was not only not interested, but he even went so far as to avoid Lee when he came in, especially if he was armed with his People.
“He’ll be back later,” I said, trying to be helpful.
“Oh yeah, that’s fine,” Lee said, trying to hide his disappointment with a wave of his hand. “I’ll see him another time.” He walked glumly over to the table nearest us and sat down.
“You okay?” Caroline asked.
“It’s just so sad,” Lee said. “Deacon’s Landing was one of my favorite shows, and she was my favorite character. It won’t be the same.” He sighed forlornly.
“Well, what other news does People bring this week? Surely there has to be something good in there,” Caroline said cajolingly.
A small smile crept into the corner of Lee’s mouth. He opened the magazine to the beginning, like a parent about to read a story to his child. “Yes,” he said a bit more cheerful. “There are lots of good things.”
A good chunk of the afternoon passed quickly thanks in large part to Lee’s readings. Through surges of customers, refilling the napkin holders and even a mopping around the store, Lee soldiered on as steadily and animatedly as if he were performing a dramatic reading in front of a theater full of people. The only interruptions were the half dozen text messages he got from his associate Rachel, who he had left to mind the store. She was new and kept peppering him with questions about inane things, like where the pear scented tea light candles were or if they carried cider apple tapers in the 8 inch size. By the time Lee was finished with People, he had reached his threshold with her idiocy and promptly let out an exasperated sigh, then left.
“Geez. I’m starving,” Caroline said as Lee disappeared out the door.
“Me too,” I agreed. Between work and listening to Lee’s stories, I had been too occupied to think about food. That was very unlike me.
“What do you think? Baja Fresh?” she asked. I nodded. She put out her hand for another round of rock paper scissors.
“That’s okay,” I said. “I’ll get it. I could use the walk. Besides, it’s my turn to pay. Your usual, right?”
“Please,” Caroline answered, and she lowered her hand. “I’ll be here.”
I grabbed my wallet from the back room and slipped out the door. Outside the confines of our store, the mall was bustling with shoppers and movie goers. I navigated my way through them leisurely. Normally I would be frustrated by their aimless meanderings, but instead I found myself savoring the fresh air and freedom.
Baja Fresh was in the food court. It was by far Caroline’s favorite spot, though I didn’t understand what made it so special. I preferred the sandwiches at California Crisp instead, because they carved turkey right off the breast. I got my sandwich from there before heading to Baja Fresh for Caroline’s food.
When I got back to Coffee Bean several minutes later I found it as empty as I had left it, save for two young women with their backs to me that were talking to Caroline at the counter. When Caroline noticed me, her face brightened and she gestured to both of them.
“Hey, look who’s here,” she said.
The two women turned, though I knew before seeing their faces who they were, and I was not as enthusiastic about seeing them as Caroline was. Lola and Gigi Jardin were cousins who co-managed their uncle Laurent’s store called Le Jardin Boutique. It was located on the other end of the mall.
Lola and Gigi looked alike. Both had raven black hair, heart-shaped faces and porcelain skin. Their wardrobe was always put together and their hair and make-up were expertly done. But that was where the similarities stopped. Gigi was the older of the two, she was in her late twenties. Her hair was straight, falling to just below her shoulders, and her eyes were a piercing pale gray. She was average height and solidly built with broad shoulders and a generous bust line. Lola was younger, slighter and taller than her cousin. Her hair flowed down her back, her side swept bangs always pinned behind one ear. Her eyes were a deep brown and just as piercing as Gigi’s.
“Hey, Lola. Gigi,” I said casually as I came around the counter and handed Caroline her food. The Jardins looked me carefully up and down and nodded hello back, but said nothing.
Caroline became fast friends with Lola and Gigi soon after she started working at the Century City Mall location. She was excited for us all to meet.
“I told them about you,” Caroline said to me on my first walk through the mall to the Coffee Bean. “They should be in sometime today so you can meet them.” About midday they strolled in.
“Hey, girls!” Caroline called to them from the counter.
But they weren’t paying attention. They were checking out a woman heading out the door as they were coming in.
“Oh, no. No,” said Lola as she turned to watch her go past them. “She’s wearing leggings as pants.”
“I know,” said Gigi as if it was obvious and extremely annoying. “Leggings are not pants!” she called out to the woman as she was halfway out the door. The woman stopped and looked at them strangely. In addition to black leggings, she wore a short red canvas jacket cinched at her waist and hit her just below the hip. Peeking out under it was a long white knit shirt that barely covered her rear end. She also had on black Ugg boots. I had barely noticed her attire until now, and though she did look put together I agreed the leggings were a mistake. Still, the scrutiny was a little over the top.
“Yeah, we’re talking to you,” Lola stated and she stepped towards her. The woman half flinched, like she expected Lola to throw a punch. Instead, Lola reached into her purse and produced a business card.
“We have a store, Le Jardin Boutique. You should come by if you don’t have anything acceptable to wear and you have to resort to those.” She gestured to the woman’s leggings as if they were something very unpleasant. The woman, at a complete loss of words, gingerly took the card and backed out of the store.
I was immediately aware of what I was wearing as they approached the counter. I had on khaki pants and a sky blue button down shirt, pretty simple and hopefully not worth any negative attention. Caroline acted like the whole exchange about the leggings never happened and introduced us eagerly.
“I am so glad you’re all meeting,” she said brightly as we shook hands after our introduction. Lola and Gigi studied my face. It felt like they was critiquing it the way they had that woman and I could feel myself flush. Then their eyes travelled down to take in my whole ensemble.
“Potential,” Lola said softly to Gigi. Gigi nodded and I shifted my weight uncomfortably.
“You are quite a find,” she said to me. I didn’t know what she meant and my confusion must have read on my face. “You’re rough around the edges,” she went on. “But you’re pretty. You have great hair and bone structure. I think we can help you.”
“Help me with what?” I asked, still unclear as to where they were going with all of this.
“With your makeover,” Lola said.
“Oh, no thanks,” I said quickly. “I’m fine, thank you.”
“Caroline says you’re trying to get into the film business. If you want to make it here, you need a makeover. Trust me,” Gigi said.
“Really, I am okay,” I assured them.
They let the issue go. But ever since then they always looked at me like they were now – imagining what they would do if I let them get their manicured hands on me. I didn’t like it, but was learning to deal. Caroline thought they must have useful connections and could get us into the exclusive Hollywood hotspots since their uncle was a fashion designer. That was one of the reasons why Caroline befriended them in the first place.
“What’s new?” I asked the Jardins as I opened the cardboard box my sandwich was in.
Lola shrugged. “We’re officially at war with Bloomingdale’s,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Why’s that?” I asked, trying to sound interested.
“Because,” Gigi cut in. “They don’t support small businesses. Why can’t they just leave us alone?”
“What happened?” Caroline asked, truly concerned.
“Lola and I were just trying to drum up some business for ourselves. They were being incredibly unfair about the whole thing,” Gigi said.
“Wait a minute,” Caroline interrupted. “Did you go in there to try and steal their customers? Again?”
That was a sight to picture. Lola and Gigi in Bloomingdale’s calling out to customers that the clothing they were looking at was ugly and they should leave it to shop at their store.
“We weren’t stealing customers,” Lola said as if it were perfectly obvious.
“That’s right,” Gigi agreed. “We were merely telling some of them that our store is very reasonably priced, and if they can’t find what they are looking for, they should visit us and we could give them a great deal.”
Caroline sighed, trying to hide a smile.
“And they threw us out! Can you believe that?” Lola retorted.
“No, that’s…unbelievable,” Caroline said, managing to keep a straight face.
“Why don’t you just advertise outside in the common areas of the mall?” I asked. They stared at me like this was not even an option.
“Because,” said Gigi, “People in Bloomingdale’s are more of a sure thing. They are shopping for women’s clothes. That is what we sell. It’s less of a crap shoot.”
“Well, I guess you’re going to have to be more stealth about it,” I said. “There are tons of clothing racks to hide in, I bet you two could sneak in there if you needed to.”
Lola and Gigi looked at me, smiles spreading across their faces. “That’s true,” Gigi said. “We just have to be stealth.”
“Like ninjas,” Caroline put in. She and I exchanged glances as they both pondered this thought.
“Well, we should get back to the store,” said Lola after a moment. She turned to leave.
“Wait a sec,” Gigi called to her. She looked at us carefully. “What are you two doing tonight?”
“Nothing,” Caroline shot at her before I could answer. “We are wide open.”
Gigi reached into her purse and pulled out a card. To my utter surprise, she handed it to me. On one side of the thick stock was one word in olive-colored embossed ink. Green. I flipped the card over and there was an address handwritten written on the back.
“Show that card to the guy at the door and ask for Liam,” she said.
“What is this place?” I asked. Gigi rolled her eyes at me then eyed the card, like she was thinking about grabbing it back.
“It’s a club,” she said through slightly gritted teeth.
“Oh,” I said like I just had a brain fart and had suddenly remembered. “Right. Green. The club.”
I could feel Caroline shift uncomfortably beside me.
“I know it,” she said quickly to Gigi.
“Well, show that to the bouncer at the door. Ask for Liam. Don’t get there before 9:30.”
“You got it,” Caroline said.
“You remember our deal, right?” Gigi asked Caroline.
Caroline nodded vigorously.
“Good,” Gigi said. “Have fun tonight.” With that, she and Lola disappeared out of the store.
“How many free drinks did you promise them for this?” I asked after a moment as I held up the card.
“Unlimited for a week,” she replied.
“Hm,” I said. “Well, I think you overpaid.”
“We’ll see what becomes of the evening,” she said. “It may have been the deal of a lifetime.”
Tags: Chapter 3