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Gia scoffed. “So, no surfboards lining the walls, then?”

Autumn squinted. “The surfboards are a nice touch. Very Venice.”

Isabel nodded. “Very you. Just notus. Speaking of, aren’t those friends ofyours?” Isabel inclined her head to the table across the way made up of somesurfers Gia hung with on Venice Beach.

“Yep. That’s Ozzie, and Ricky, and Marilyn D,” she told them.

“What’s the D stand for?” Hadley asked.

Gia shook her head. “No one knows.”

“Mysterious. I think at some point tonight, we’ll need to findout,” Autumn said. “Speaking of our neighbors, I wasn’t going to mention this,because sometimes you get a little bent out of shape, but Elle Britton walkedin about five minutes ago and is sitting two tables behind you.”

Isabel’s eyes lit up. “Fuck, yeah. The plot thickens at Dive.” Shesat back in her chair with satisfaction as if ready to take it all in.

Gia stole a quick glance behind her, and Autumn hadn’t beenmessing around. Elle, wearing dark jeans and a black camisole, sat at a smalltable with two men and a woman. One of them was probably that guy from the dateshe’d had the week prior. Patrick, Jason, Trevor. Something bland enough forGia to forget. Aha, yes, that must be him, the one with his hand on herforearm. They were drinking from carved-out pineapples generally reserved fortourist types and laughing at something. They were actually laughinga lot. She was hardlythe cool police, and tried not to be judgmental about the pineapples. She lostthe battle.

“Guess you’re not the only surfer who knows about this place,”Hadley said, with an interested grin. “You going to go over there and say hellosoon?”

“What? No,” Gia said adamantly, and shook her head. Then shethought on it. Maybe it would be rude not to, now that they kind of workedtogether. Elle seemed the type to be cognizant of etiquette. Was there protocolfor public sightings of your work friend? She’d never had the kind oftraditional job that required that skillset. “Should I?”

“Your call,” Isabel said. “Might be weird later if you don’t.Aren’t you two trying to get past the hateful toe-to-toe grudge match of old?”

“Yeah,” she said, reluctantly. Isabel had a point. She glancedover and caught sight of Elle walking to the bar with the slightest sway of herhips. She had her customary smile in play and stopped to chat with a table ofin-awe college kids who had flagged her down for an autograph. “Be right back.”

As Elle leaned across the bar to catch the bartender’s eye, Giatook the spot at the rail next to her. “Of all the surf bars in all of Venice,you had to walk into mine.”

“Oh my God,” Elle said, brightening and looking around. “You cameout of nowhere.” A pause, followed by a growing smile. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Gia smiled back. “Just stalking my competitors in mydowntime and surprising them when they least expect it.” She needed strongersocial skills. She’d pay for them if she had to.

Elle turned, leaned back against the bar, and dropped her tone tosincerity. “Sorry for crashing your turf. I wanted to show Christopher a littlebit of my world. My people.”

Ah, yes. Christopher. That was his name. She committed it tomemory for stupid reasons not worthy of reflection. “What’s the verdict?”

Elle glanced back at him, her brow furrowed. “He’s still taking itall in, I think. He’s a little more buttoned up. You know the type.”

“Nope. But I’ve seen them around.” Gia tapped the bar. “I won’tkeep you. Wanted to say hi and all. Have fun tonight.”

Elle nodded as the bartender approached. “Thanks. You, too.”

The night played on, and more and more people jammed the smallspace. They’d taken one of the walls down, which allowed a nice breeze off thewater to keep everyone cool and comfortable. As Isabel expounded loudly aboutTaylor’s uncanny ability to know when she was craving Chinese food, Giapolitely excused herself to the restroom, which was not as awful as she wasimagining it might be.

Her second surprise came when she emerged from the stall and raninto Elle, who stood at one of the sinks…not looking too great.

“Too many hollowed-out pineapples?” she asked, washing her handsat the sink next to Elle’s.

“How did you know?” a bleary-eyed Elle asked.

“Just a hunch. You okay?”

“Nope. I’ve had too many, I’m afraid. I don’t normally do thiswhen I’m training. Drink more than one or two. Today was weird, though.” Sheheld on to the countertop for balance.

“You mean the shoot today?” Gia turned off the faucet and reachedfor a paper towel.

Elle nodded about eight times. “It was awful. I was ready to seeyou, and then I did, and it was…whoa, and then so hard to act normal, youknow?”

She wasn’t making sense. “Not sure I do.”