Joey and Wren spent the better part of the next hour picking out paints and color schemes for the last five rooms. They decided on an orangy-beige called sandstone for the dance floor, Wren would use the same color in the bathroom and decorate with pictures and nick-knacks. For the men's dressing room they picked a dark eggshell and Wren would tape off and paint large argyle like diamonds on the walls in hunter green. In the ladies dressing room they chose a buttery yellow for the walls and corn flower blue, soft violet, and petal pink to make little flowers all over the wall.
As they planed Wren wrote copious notes for each room. Detailing Joey's instructions exactly. It was going to be a big job, but she figured she could manage. The contractor said he would pain any solid walls for her and charge a flat fee after he knew how much they would be doing. She was of the opinion that it would be more cost effective to do it herself rather than pay six grand for him to do it.
She sighed softly and pulled out the pictures for her office. She really had no idea what she wanted to do in there. She wanted something fun and bright, but also be able to find some inner calm in the space. She related this to Joey and he nodded in understanding.
"You know you could almost take newly primed walls and place painter's tape in random patterns, then choose six or seven different complimentary colors and paint them in a random order all over the walls, then take down the tape and connect the spaces with detail brushes. Then when that's dry add large geometric shapes in the paler versions of your base colors."
Smiling, Wren closed her eyes and tried to envision such a space. It felt alive and warm in her mind and she liked the idea of it. Joey's voice came softly into her reverie. "I would put big drapes of fabric on the ceiling to make it feel like your in a tent or some luxurious room in a place some where. This is a space you'll be spending a lot of time in before and after classes, so you want it to be cozy. I think that would do that for you."
She nodded. It was going to take a lot of work and Wren began to feel over whelmed. If she had someone like Joey to help her do the work it would be so much easier. A slow smile curled her lips.
"Joey, may I ask you a personal question?"
"Um...I guess so, Wren." He blushed a little and Wren though that was cute. She just hoped he didn't think she was going to ask him out. That would be awkward. 'Oh no I'm sorry I can't date you, Mr. Lowly Hardware Guy, I'm in love with a rock star.' She managed not to giggle at herself and move a tiny bit closer to Joey, and lowered her voice.
"Do you like working here? I mean is this what you want to be doing with your life?"
He blinked several times and cleared his throat. "Wow, that is personal." Joey paused and shook his head. "No, not really. I would love to have a job that paid what I make here and was fewer day light hours so that I could spend that time painting. I do this because I need to pay rent and eat. I like eating."
Wren chuckled. Clearing her throat she ducked her head a bit, and bit her lip. She was taking a big risk here and hope it paid off. "How much a month do you make here, Joey?"
He did that look around to make sure no one was listening thing and leaned in close to her, whispering. "Close to eighteen hundred. It's not the best, but it's enough."
Wren let out the breath she was holding. She had been doing mental calculations and had come to the conclusion that it was going to cost her about that much to hire a handy man, and a cleaning crew to keep up her space. She couldn't do all of that herself and she saw no reason to. Joey seemed like a really nice guy and he was incredible creative. If he didn't work out she wouldn't be in that much of a bind, unless he stopped in the middle of the murals...he'd just have to do those first.
She still had to wait until the wall was finished, all the flooring had already been removed, she still had to pick out new flooring though, and wait for the debris to be cleaned up, but she was told that would only be another week. Coming to a decision she smiled at Joey.
"I'd like to make a proposition to you Joey, but since it's work related, we ought to wait until you are off the clock here. So here is what I want to happen. I'd like you to help me pick out the colors to fulfill you idea for my office, then I want you to help me pick out flooring, light fixtures, and swings for my front porch. Then when you get off work, I'd like you to meet me at the little deli down the block. Do you know which one I mean?"
Joey nodded at her with a smile, and smoothed his apron. "If you like what I have to say, you can give your two weeks here. If not we'll simply part as friends and you will have done me a great service today. Alright?"
He nodded again as Wren tried to slow her heart, she'd never done anything like this and she felt just a little out of place. She hoped she sounded confident and that he would take her seriously. Otherwise she'd look like a fool and would be forced to spend some time wallowing in self pity and still have all that work to do on her own.
Paint Chips
In every home improvement store there is a wall and on that wall there are hundreds upon hundreds, if not thousands of little colored squares. Each of those squares represents paint, and each paint is made up of three things color, base and finish. Wren was lost. She stood with a manilla file folder in her hand and her eyes had glazed over as she was mesmerized by the myriad of colors.
Her field of vision was suddenly interrupted by a large chest covered with a navy blue polo shirt and a kelly green apron that read; "Hello, my name is Joey. Welcome to the Homestead."
A hand was then thrust at her and words were spoken, completely breaking the hypnotic effect of the paint chips.
"I'm Joey."
Wren slid her fingers into his and was rewarded with a firm handshake by a work calloused hand. "Wren."
Joey took his hand from hers and rocked back on his heels briefly and clapped his hands together in front of him. "Can I help you with something, Wren?"
Wren finally took her eyes to his face and couldn't help but smile. He looked like he belongs on the cover of an underwear catalogue, light brown hair, chocolate brown eyes, a slightly crooked nose, and perfectly straight, white teeth, framed by a heart stopping smile. He sheer relief at having someone to help her won out over her girly-instinct to stare at him and sigh.
"Yes! Yes, you can. I need paint."
His smile widened and he chuckled a little. "Well you've come to the right place. What colors are you looking for?"
"That's just it, I don't know. I thought I could come here and look and something would sort of jump out at me for each room. So far I've only managed to get hypnotized by the little squares."
Joey chuckled again and nodded his head. "I know what you mean. Well, can you describe what your rooms look like and maybe what you had in mind for them?"
Wren grinned and turned to the paint counter behind her, and placing the file folder on it, she opened it to reveal a bunch of pictures and papers. She pulled out the first paper behind the pictures.
"Ok this a 3-D rendition of the floor plan of my Studio. I'm opening a dance studio and I need to decide what I want to do for each room. I have the lobby, after they build this wall here, the dance floor, the mens' dressing room, the ladies' dressing room, the bathroom and my office. As well as the front exterior."
She moved the pictures around until she found one of the newly finished front porch. The wood still fresh and bright. "I think we should start on the outside and work our way in. I need to figure out a color for the railing, trim and the roof. Well the underside of the roof."
Joey took the picture and looked at it for a moment. The trim was a horrible white that looked harsh against the lovely pink brick and clashed with the new wood of the railing. "Personally I wouldn't do more than seal the wood against the elements and leave it in its natural state. If you want some color, put a soft stain on it before you seal it. Then I would pick a color out of the brick for the trim and roof."
Wren smiled brightly and took the picture back from him. "That's perfect. I'll tell the contractor to seal the wood and leave it. How do I pick a color from the brick?"
"Like this." He took the picture gently from her fingers and placed it on a scanner. It quickly brought the picture up on a screen inside of a program. He then used the mouse to make the picture bigger and focus on a patch of brick, picked a different tool form the little tool bar and began to click around on the bricks. "Tell me when you see a color you like."
He clicked around for a while and landed on a delicate rosey pink color. It was perfect and Wren put her hand on his arm to stop him from clicking again. "That one, it's perfect."
"Ok, now we'll send that information to the paint machine, and tell it what size and how many we want. Let's see, I think you should only need one small can for two coats on the trim and roof, so we'll make two small cans so that you can have touch up paint for the future."
Wren nodded as he clicked and typed for a moment. Then went around the counter to feed to cans and lids into the machine. He came back around to her and smiled. "Ok what's next."
"Um, well, I guess the lobby. I don't have a picture of that yet, just a contractors sketch." She pulled out another sheet of paper and layed it down. the top half was a 3-D sketch of the room from the top down, the bottom half held two sketches, one looked like you were standing next to one of the side walls looking down the room nd the other was from the door. It was nothing more than a long rectangle. The back wall holding a single door in the very center, the front wall held the two large pictures windows and entrance door.
"I want kind of a coffee shop, lounge around kind of feel. It is an adult school, and I want my students to have a place to hang out before and after class. I'll have a bunch of squashy chairs and a couple of couches, low tables and probably a stand with a coffee pot on it. But I want it to be..." She pursed her lips and tilted her head to one side. "Sophisticated. Like bohemian chic."
Joey nodded and studied the sketches for a moment, pulling lightly at his lower lip. "Ok if I was decorating this room. On this wall here," he pointed to the back wall. "I would paint it a rich color, deep color, such as burgundy or cobalt, and two large paintings, one on each side of the door. Then on the side walls I'd put murals of Greco-Roman ruins, like looking through a portal out into the ruined city with a sunny sky at the top. Then on this front wall I'd paint it cream with a cold crackle finish and drape gauzy white curtains all over it. Like gathered and pulled to the side, not just laying straight and flat against the wall."
Wren stared at the man for a full minute in absolute astonishment. It was exactly perfect. She had wanted something fun and unique in the space so that it would encourage her students to congregate and get to know one another, as well as welcoming and professional enough for the newcomers.
"I love it. Absolutely love it. But where do I look for a painter that can do that kind of mural?"
Joey blushed and cleared his throat. He then looked around as though making sure his was the only green apron around. "I'm not supposed to do this at work, but...I paint murals. I could do that for you, but I can't solicit any business here. I'll loose my job."
Wren smiled and patted his arm. "Well I'll tell you what. You help me pick out exactly what we'll need to make this room come together and I'll make sure my card gets left on your counter here and you can call me when you are off work and we can work something out."
Joey blushed deeper and smiled at Wren. "It's a deal."
Wren
18 years ago
Wren
18 years ago
Wren and Joey spent another two hours picking out the rest of her paints, porch swings, light fixtures, face plates for the outlets and light switches, a door, and finally flooring. They decided on a pale gray stone tile for the lobby, along with two rich rugs to define seating areas and a long runner that would extend from the front door to the dance floor door.
The men's dressing room was getting a woven grass type material carpet that would be framed in more of the light gray tile. The bathroom was getting an easily cleaned rather utilitarian white tile. The ladies' dressing room was going to have laminate that looked like hard wood, very cozy, but much easier to clean and care for. Her office was going to have a thick, soft, your-feet-disappear into the pile, carpet in beige. It needed to be neutral since the walls were going to be so boldly colored. She had decided to put more of the gray tile in the little hall way space that separates the two dressing rooms. The dance floor itself was being ordered from a special company and it would be almost the same color gray, since the all purpose floor didn't come in white or wood.
She was incredibly happy with everything that had been accomplished. With a hand full of price sheets she went up to the register to pay, as strapping young men placed everything but her paint on flat bed cart things. The paint was considerably more than she had expected, but it was offset by everything but the carpet and padding being on sale or clearance. The nice thing was, that the contractor's fees included installing flooring and primer-ing the entire studio. It didn't include any other painting though, which is where Joey would come in...she hoped.
Outside, she pulled the rented Chevy S10 up to the covered loading area, where the same strapping young men loaded everything into the bed. Joey met her there with a delivery form.
"It's going to take me the rest of my shift, plus a couple of hours tomorrow to finish your paint. You can pick it up, or I can have it delivered to your studio, if you prefer."
She took the form and read through it quickly. "Let's have it delivered. I'll tell the contractor to look for the Homestead truck and he can sign for the paint."
"Great. Um so I get off at four."
Wren glanced at her watch, it was just after noon now. That would give her plenty of time to have lunch, finish up her errands, and have the lawyer write up a contract for Joey.
"Perfect, I'll meet you at that deli just up the block there. Have a good afternoon, Joey."
"You too, Wren. See you then."
Wren climbed into the cab of the truck as he trotted back inside. Pulling the bluetooth ear pice out of her purse, she put it on, started the truck and instructed the little doodad to call the lawyer. As she drove back to the studio, she explained exactly what she wanted the contract to say and when she needed it. The man, always willing to accommodate her, said it would be done and looked forward to seeing her.
By the time she hung up she was pulling in behind the studio. She let the contractor know it was there, and left it for him and his men to unload, while she climbed into her car for the trip to the sign makers, with a quick stop some place for lunch.
The men's dressing room was getting a woven grass type material carpet that would be framed in more of the light gray tile. The bathroom was getting an easily cleaned rather utilitarian white tile. The ladies' dressing room was going to have laminate that looked like hard wood, very cozy, but much easier to clean and care for. Her office was going to have a thick, soft, your-feet-disappear into the pile, carpet in beige. It needed to be neutral since the walls were going to be so boldly colored. She had decided to put more of the gray tile in the little hall way space that separates the two dressing rooms. The dance floor itself was being ordered from a special company and it would be almost the same color gray, since the all purpose floor didn't come in white or wood.
She was incredibly happy with everything that had been accomplished. With a hand full of price sheets she went up to the register to pay, as strapping young men placed everything but her paint on flat bed cart things. The paint was considerably more than she had expected, but it was offset by everything but the carpet and padding being on sale or clearance. The nice thing was, that the contractor's fees included installing flooring and primer-ing the entire studio. It didn't include any other painting though, which is where Joey would come in...she hoped.
Outside, she pulled the rented Chevy S10 up to the covered loading area, where the same strapping young men loaded everything into the bed. Joey met her there with a delivery form.
"It's going to take me the rest of my shift, plus a couple of hours tomorrow to finish your paint. You can pick it up, or I can have it delivered to your studio, if you prefer."
She took the form and read through it quickly. "Let's have it delivered. I'll tell the contractor to look for the Homestead truck and he can sign for the paint."
"Great. Um so I get off at four."
Wren glanced at her watch, it was just after noon now. That would give her plenty of time to have lunch, finish up her errands, and have the lawyer write up a contract for Joey.
"Perfect, I'll meet you at that deli just up the block there. Have a good afternoon, Joey."
"You too, Wren. See you then."
Wren climbed into the cab of the truck as he trotted back inside. Pulling the bluetooth ear pice out of her purse, she put it on, started the truck and instructed the little doodad to call the lawyer. As she drove back to the studio, she explained exactly what she wanted the contract to say and when she needed it. The man, always willing to accommodate her, said it would be done and looked forward to seeing her.
By the time she hung up she was pulling in behind the studio. She let the contractor know it was there, and left it for him and his men to unload, while she climbed into her car for the trip to the sign makers, with a quick stop some place for lunch.
Wren
18 years ago
Lunch was a quick stop a a corner bodega that yielded a pita pocket filled with greek salad and grilled chicken, an apple and a bottle of water. She ate it outside at a little wrought iron bistro table. Finishing quickly she walked the two blocks down to the sign makers. They also printed brochures and leaflets so she was going to have those done too.
An hour and a half later and she had ordered the sign for the front of the building, a marble sign that held her mission statement, phone number, and the studio's email; a sticker of white letters that read "Please remove your shoes, before entering The Studio" for the front door; two hundred brochures that gave a brief outline of her philosophy, a class schedule and a tuition chart; and leaflets that she could leave around places printed with a class schedule and a coupon for a free trial class.
She walked back to her car, put the file folder for the sign makers in her briefcase, and drove out to a large furniture liquidation store that was almost in the next town. She spent an her remaining hour and a half picking out furniture for all of her rooms. She arranged to have it all delivered to a storage unit not far from the studio. She felt very accomplished as she drove back into town.
She had made most of her major purchases in one day, all that was left was the furniture for her office. But she wanted something really nice for in there, and had thought to look on the Strip of a custom or imported furniture shop.
Stopping at the lawyers, she picked up the contract for Joey, looking over it quickly to make sure it was exactly what she wanted. Not that she needed to worry about that. Mr. Schaefer was very thorough. She high-tailed it over to the Homestead and managed to get to the deli before Joey.
An hour and a half later and she had ordered the sign for the front of the building, a marble sign that held her mission statement, phone number, and the studio's email; a sticker of white letters that read "Please remove your shoes, before entering The Studio" for the front door; two hundred brochures that gave a brief outline of her philosophy, a class schedule and a tuition chart; and leaflets that she could leave around places printed with a class schedule and a coupon for a free trial class.
She walked back to her car, put the file folder for the sign makers in her briefcase, and drove out to a large furniture liquidation store that was almost in the next town. She spent an her remaining hour and a half picking out furniture for all of her rooms. She arranged to have it all delivered to a storage unit not far from the studio. She felt very accomplished as she drove back into town.
She had made most of her major purchases in one day, all that was left was the furniture for her office. But she wanted something really nice for in there, and had thought to look on the Strip of a custom or imported furniture shop.
Stopping at the lawyers, she picked up the contract for Joey, looking over it quickly to make sure it was exactly what she wanted. Not that she needed to worry about that. Mr. Schaefer was very thorough. She high-tailed it over to the Homestead and managed to get to the deli before Joey.
Wren
18 years ago
He sat down as the waitress was putting her bottle of water and menus on the table. She smiled at him. "Thanks for meeting me, Joey. Hungry?"
He looked down at the menu and sort of winced. 'He must live on raman noodles and spagetti-os.' She opened the menu for him and tapped it gently with her finger. "It's on me."
He gave her a relieved smile and looked over the menu. When the waitress came back, Wren ordered the fruit plate, and he ordered a number six, a meatball sub with fries, and a coke. She opened the bottle of water and took a sip, before handing a file folder over to him.
"I want you to come work for me. I can pay you what you make now, plus a three thousand dollar signing bonus, plus an extra grand for each mural in the lobby.
Before the studio opens I want you to do all of the painting we talked about, all of it. Along with any other work I need done. The contractors are doing most everything, except the dance floor and the painting. The dance floor will be installed once all other work in the building is done and dry. They won't install it until a week before I open.
After I open I want you to stay on as a handy man. Do odd jobs, clean up the studio every night, and help me with advertising. Put fliers out, make follow up calls, that sort of thing. I did the math and it would cost me more to hire a handy man, and a cleaning service and an assistant, so I figure I can hire one person to do it all. Only have to worry about one other person going in and out."
Their food came, and Wren smiled up at the waitress. The fruit looked like something out of a magazine cover and the cottage cheese even had a little sprig of something green in it, probably parsley. Picking up knife and fork she cut off a piece of cantaloupe and smiled at Joey.
"Eat, think, read the contract."
They ate in silence for a little more than half their meal. He wiped his mouth and caught Wren's eyes. "What hours would I work?"
"That's up to you. I will have a class from seven am to eight, nothing until noon until one-thirty. Another break until four and my last class will end at nine-thirty. I'll be leaving no later than ten every night. You can come in before seven, after ten or during one of the off times. For instance, you have a doctor's appointment at one-thirty, then you could do your work before my classes and between the morning and lunch class. Or you had a hot date the night before and want to sleep until noon. Then you come in at two work for two hours, then come back after class is over and work until the job is done.
There may be some days when the only work you have to do is clean up of the studio, which will only take an hour. I'm paying you a salary, so it doesn't matter how many hours you work, so long as all of the work is done. I'll try and have a list for you every day. The only thing that must be done each day is a clean-up before my morning class."
Joey nodded his head and picked the remainder of his sandwich up. He'd opened the folder to the contract and went back to reading while he finished the sub. Wren finished her meal, and sat back to watch him. She didn't expect an answer from him then and there. If he gave her one, she'd worry a little. Finally he finished as well and looked up at her, closing the folder.
"How long does the offer stand?"
Wren smiled. He was as smart as she'd thought. "One week. You will then have time to give a too week notice to Homestead. You will start work three weeks from today. The contractors won't be finished before then."
He nodded and stood, taking the folder. Wren stood with him and took his offered hand. "I will get back to you in the next week. Thank you for this opportunity Wren." He looked like he wanted to say more, and Wren's estimation of him grew when he did not.
"The pleasure is mine, Joey. I look forward to hearing from you."
He left and the check came. She paid it, left a nice fat tip to the waitress who knew enough to leave them alone. Things were looking up up up. Somewhere in the back of her mind, the pessimist began to worry when the other shoe would drop.
He looked down at the menu and sort of winced. 'He must live on raman noodles and spagetti-os.' She opened the menu for him and tapped it gently with her finger. "It's on me."
He gave her a relieved smile and looked over the menu. When the waitress came back, Wren ordered the fruit plate, and he ordered a number six, a meatball sub with fries, and a coke. She opened the bottle of water and took a sip, before handing a file folder over to him.
"I want you to come work for me. I can pay you what you make now, plus a three thousand dollar signing bonus, plus an extra grand for each mural in the lobby.
Before the studio opens I want you to do all of the painting we talked about, all of it. Along with any other work I need done. The contractors are doing most everything, except the dance floor and the painting. The dance floor will be installed once all other work in the building is done and dry. They won't install it until a week before I open.
After I open I want you to stay on as a handy man. Do odd jobs, clean up the studio every night, and help me with advertising. Put fliers out, make follow up calls, that sort of thing. I did the math and it would cost me more to hire a handy man, and a cleaning service and an assistant, so I figure I can hire one person to do it all. Only have to worry about one other person going in and out."
Their food came, and Wren smiled up at the waitress. The fruit looked like something out of a magazine cover and the cottage cheese even had a little sprig of something green in it, probably parsley. Picking up knife and fork she cut off a piece of cantaloupe and smiled at Joey.
"Eat, think, read the contract."
They ate in silence for a little more than half their meal. He wiped his mouth and caught Wren's eyes. "What hours would I work?"
"That's up to you. I will have a class from seven am to eight, nothing until noon until one-thirty. Another break until four and my last class will end at nine-thirty. I'll be leaving no later than ten every night. You can come in before seven, after ten or during one of the off times. For instance, you have a doctor's appointment at one-thirty, then you could do your work before my classes and between the morning and lunch class. Or you had a hot date the night before and want to sleep until noon. Then you come in at two work for two hours, then come back after class is over and work until the job is done.
There may be some days when the only work you have to do is clean up of the studio, which will only take an hour. I'm paying you a salary, so it doesn't matter how many hours you work, so long as all of the work is done. I'll try and have a list for you every day. The only thing that must be done each day is a clean-up before my morning class."
Joey nodded his head and picked the remainder of his sandwich up. He'd opened the folder to the contract and went back to reading while he finished the sub. Wren finished her meal, and sat back to watch him. She didn't expect an answer from him then and there. If he gave her one, she'd worry a little. Finally he finished as well and looked up at her, closing the folder.
"How long does the offer stand?"
Wren smiled. He was as smart as she'd thought. "One week. You will then have time to give a too week notice to Homestead. You will start work three weeks from today. The contractors won't be finished before then."
He nodded and stood, taking the folder. Wren stood with him and took his offered hand. "I will get back to you in the next week. Thank you for this opportunity Wren." He looked like he wanted to say more, and Wren's estimation of him grew when he did not.
"The pleasure is mine, Joey. I look forward to hearing from you."
He left and the check came. She paid it, left a nice fat tip to the waitress who knew enough to leave them alone. Things were looking up up up. Somewhere in the back of her mind, the pessimist began to worry when the other shoe would drop.