I look around the empty store that once housed someone’s dream of becoming a hairdresser hoping I won’t be the next one to abandon the space and my dream of success.

“The plumbing is already in place for a grooming service,” the Realtor says.

There’s an array of sinks near the back of the unit that the previous lessee left behind. Can’t fit a dog in a single one of them.

“That’s helpful, though I’m hoping not to have to do too much grooming.”

The whole reason I want to be able to include grooming in my repertoire is to make sure that if my doggie fashion business doesn’t take off, I have other services that will help me make ends meet. I really don’t want to fail at the second career I’ve attempted since coming to Los Angeles five years ago.

Acting didn’t pan out. I’m crossing my fingers that a high end doggie designer fashion brand will.

“I looked you up,” she says, her heels clicking on the linoleum floor. “I swear, if I had a dog, I’d be bankrupt with what you charge for your stuff.” She chuckles like it’s funny, but her commission breath is showing. This is the tenth place she’s shown me today, and she knows the longer we go the less likely I am to make a decision.

The problem is, renting a space for a retail shop scares the crap out of me.

“You’ve clearly outgrown the online shopping boutique.” Her red lipsticked lips turn up.

She’s right but I’m not telling her that. I outgrew it a long time ago, but the thought of having all this overhead makes me wonder if I’m fooling myself with this venture. Can a guy—let alone a straight guy—make it in this business?

My overzealous Realtor is right though. The space is the perfect size and the extra plumbing is already installed. It’s located right in the middle of other high priced one-of-a-kind boutiques that L.A.’s extravagant (aka wealthy) people seek out to shop and share their purchases on Instagram and Twitter.

“I’ll take it,” I say with no certainty in my voice.

“Great. Let me go grab the papers out of my car.”

Her heels click as she strides to the door and the ringer left behind by the old tenant chimes with her departure.

I take the opportunity to scour the surroundings once more, trying my damnedest to find something, anything wrong with the place.

Instead of seeing a sign from above not to rent it, my mind takes over and the space comes alive in my imagination with what it can become. I’ve done everything I had on my list before exploring a retail space—I have the inventory to keep the store going for six months, the loan and paperwork for the grooming part signed and ready to be processed, and a rainy-day fund should things be slow at first.

Still, the knot in my stomach won’t unravel. If I go this route, I have to be okay with closing the door on becoming an actor, to put that life aside and put all my energy into this business.

My phone dings in my pocket and I pull it out, seeing a message pop up from my online boutique store.

Clicking on the email hoping that it’s my biggest client, Mrs. Winters, and that she might need something else, I find a message from someone I don’t know.

To be precise, it’s a picture of a girl with a French Bulldog puppy that’s practically resting between her tits as she holds the furry creature. I recognize the swimsuit the puppy is wearing from my latest collection I did for the summer season.

Below the picture it reads:

Doesn’t my baby look gorgeous? I’d love a private look at what else you have… ;)

The door to the shop dings when it opens, and the heel clicks continue, stopping short of me.

Staring at the picture for another second, my decision wanes. It’s great that the girl is hot as fuck and she liked my shit enough to reach out to ask for more. But she doesn’t know I’m a heterosexual male who’s jealous of that dog’s position. She probably assumes I’m a woman, or that I’m gay, like my customers all seem to do.

Deciding once again to put my dreams before vanity and my pride I turn to my Realtor. “Where do I sign?”

* * *

“Congratulations!” Jagger and Vance each raise their beer bottles, clinking them together.

“You gotta smile. This is huge!” Vance smacks me on the back from where he sits beside me at Surfing Tacos.

I should be smiling, but I don’t have a trust fund like Jagger to fall back on. Even Vance is banking it after being hired as an executive producer at the hit television show, Abandoned last month. So much so, that he moved out last week. Bought his own condo in a nice place down by the beach.

“Yeah, Vance is right. Life begins at the end of your comfort zone.” Jagger takes a long pull of his beer.

“You’re not getting philosophical on me, are you?” I ask.

Jagger gets laid. And he gets contracts for his clients. One thing he doesn’t get, is philosophical.

“I’m just saying. Look where we all were five years ago. You co-dependent pussies are both finally living on your own. Soon you’ll be out of that hell hole apartment complex like Vance. You’re both making bank.” His glances around at each of us. “We’re all single, hot and getting laid on the regular. What’s there to be so glum about?” He raises those perfect eyebrows my way.

“Speaking of moving out…” Vance intercedes before I can wallow in my self-doubt.

“You have a hot new neighbor?” Jagger leans forward, wanting all the details of whatever action Vance found.

“No.” Vance rolls his eyes. “A place just went up for sale in my building.” He holds his hands up because he knows I’ll argue, but he also knows how much I liked his condo building and its proximity to the beach.

“Lease a building and then buy a condo?” I stare at him like’s he just landed from Mars.

“It has an extra room you can turn into your sewing room,” Vance says and brings the beer bottle to his mouth.

“That sentence is wrong on so many levels.” Jagger shakes his head, flagging down Rachel, our usual waitress. She stops, and he raises his hand with three fingers sticking up. She nods. Rachel’s great and since we’re regulars we don’t even have to order. Our tacos will be up in no time.

“Come on. We could surf all the time and Cooper would love it.” Vance brings up my dog because he knows he’s my pride and joy and thinks that will help sway me. I think the move was as hard on Vance as it was for me.

When you get used to living with someone it’s hard to go back to having no one home at night. There’s no one to talk to about the bullshit life threw you that day. Now if I want to surf I have to call him up and meet him there after an annoying drive through L.A. traffic. It was an adjustment when Jagger left the apartment complex, we lost our third amigo. But Vance moving into his own condo was harder if I’m honest, which I don’t want to be because it makes me sound like a pussy.

“Food is on its way,” Rachel comes by, three beers between her fingers and places them on the table.

“So, Rach, what do I have to do for a number?” Jagger asks. “I’ll settle for a few minutes in the storage room.” He waggles his eyebrows.

Vance and I share a look, rolling our eyes.

Rachel holds up her left hand. The lights make her engagement ring sparkle more. “I’m off the market.”

“You call that a diamond?” Jagger asks.

I kick him under the table.

“I’m just saying, if I gave you a diamond, you’d have to condition that finger to hold it.”

“Bullshit,” Vance coughs out and Jagger’s eyes flicker to him.

He’s not annoyed. It’s common knowledge Jagger isn’t going to settle down—most likely ever.

“I have to agree with your friend. My man knows how lucky he is.” She gives Jagger a look that says dares him to say the same about himself.

“Who’s to say I wouldn’t?” Jagger drinks his beer, probably to hide his smirk.

All three of us stare at him. “These two.” She points to Vance and me. “They’ll eventually come to their senses, you…” She shakes her head. “Lost cause.”

“You’re missing out on L.A.’s best kept secret,” Jagger yells out to her departing back.

“It’s not a secret you’re easy, Jag,” she yells back.

Vance slaps the table and points. “She’s got your number.”

Jagger doesn’t care though. Our food comes a second later and he wastes no time in throwing his tie over his shoulder and digging into the tacos he seems to love more than any woman I’ve ever seen him with.