Page 68 of Malibu Rising

And Bridger had said, “C’mon. You of all people know the difference between real life and movies.”

Tuesday had let go of his hands and begun to take off her wedding dress. “I just can’t do this. I’m sorry. I can’t marry you. I thought I could. I thought I wanted the magazine cover but … I can’t do it.”

“Tuesday, put your dress back on, the show starts in ten minutes.”

Tuesday had shaken her head. “I’m not doing it. And I’m sorry.”

She got her assistant to signal her parents, who were waiting for her in the first row. The three of them ran to her car and drove away.

Bridger went out to the chapel and pretended he expected Tuesday any minute. He started crying at the altar. And then sold the story toNow This.

That was four months ago. Tuesday had not seen him since.

And, just as she heard him coming closer, she decided she did not want to see him tonight either.

“Raf, God help me, I can’t do it,” she said and she started running again, this time toward the tennis courts. But when she got to the gate, she noticed she wasn’t alone. Rafael had run with her.

“Quick!” he said, pulling the gate open. “Before the fucker sees us!”

Tuesday slipped in and Rafael followed her and then he locked the gate behind them. The two of them laughing.

Suddenly, they were alone, on Brandon Randall’s tennis court, beachside in Malibu, a thousand stars in the sky.

Tuesday emptied her pockets, showing Rafael the weed she’d brought. He nodded and emptied his own. Quaaludes and LSD.

“I think we’re supposed to ‘Just Say No,’” Tuesday said with a smirk.

“Say whatever you want,” Rafael said. “But then let’s get fucked up.”

Suddenly, Tuesday’s night didn’t seem quite so bad after all.

The party was alive.

No one was counting but there were twenty-seven people in the formal living room, including Hud. There were twenty people milling around the kitchen, including Kit, and thirty-two people in the backyard, including Jay. There were couples and small groups migrating toward the family room, the dining room, the study.

There were seven people in the five bathrooms of the house. Two were peeing, three were snorting lines, two were making out.

Jay had been pretending to have a good time by the pool, talking to a few of his surf buddies from up in Ventura County. And then he pretended to have a good time in the living room, talking to a couple soap actresses, and then he pretended to have a good time absolutely everywhere else at the party, talking to anyone he could find. But, in fact, he was doing two specific things: watching the door and checking his watch.

When would Lara arrive?

Jay watched yet another group of people that did not contain Lara enter the house. He got frustrated and decided to go upstairs and take a piss.

So he did not see Ashley come in the front door. He did not see her look around—clearly with the intent of finding Hud. He did not see her spot Hud in the very back of the house talking to Wyatt Stone and the rest of the band members of the Breeze.

And so, Ashley slipped into the party without being noticed by anyone except the man she came for.

Hud looked up from the guys he was talking to and instantly smiled, delighted by the very sight of her despite the complications. “You came,” he said, as she made her way to him.

She was wearing a fuchsia tube dress and an oversized blazerwith the sleeves rolled up. She had her blond hair in a deep side part, one side held back with a comb barrette. Her long earrings sparkled as the light hit them.

“I came,” she said and then she hugged him, very lightly.

“What made you change your mind?” he asked.

“It felt silly,” she said, a smile peeking out. “To hide a good thing.”

Hud felt his chest tighten. He had to tell her how he’d screwed it all up. He would tell her in a moment.

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