Once Gia was safely on the elevator, she texted one of her best friends, Hadley, back in LA. I was a cocky asshole to Elle Britton in front of reporters.
Hadley, always Gia’s number one supporter, was quick to type back. Maybe they didn’t notice?
They did. I’m the resident bitch now.
Impossible. Come home soon, please. Autumn = pregnant and full of emotions and Isabel = workaholic, who is not paying enough attention to me.
Gia smiled at Hadley’s description of their other two best friends. As pressure-filled as these tournaments were, she took comfort in the knowledge she had a soft place to fall when she returned home to Venice Beach in LA. Hadley and Isabel also lived at Seven Shores, the same apartment complex she did, and Autumn owned the badass adjacent coffee shop, the Cat’s Pajamas. They were an unlikely foursome, given how different their personalities were, how widespread their occupations, but for whatever reason, they just clicked. She typed back her response. Give me five days and I’m there.
Don’t kill E.B., Hadley wrote. I’d miss you in jail.
No promises.
She was kidding, of course. Kind of.
Over the next few days, she watched one competitor after another fall from the tournament, as the excitement about her chances grew. The further she went at Outerknown, the more points she’d be awarded toward her ranking. This was an important tournament to Gia, who didn’t relax until she was the last one on her side of the board—right across from Elle Britton. Wouldn’t you know it? While it would have been nice for Elle to go down early and not pull in the points, if Gia pulled out a tournament win, she would still take home more, moving her up a spot on the tour’s leaderboard to number two. She closed her eyes and imagined how amazing that would feel. To win. She’d pulled in a handful of finals showings before, but it was the whole tournament she wanted.
Ousting every other competitor she’d come up against, and having the best year of her career, Gia still knew how hard it would be to take down Britton. The woman was a surf machine and had the kind of shred and tenacity that made legends. Even Gia couldn’t deny her that, Barbie Doll smile or not.
The crowd was a vocal one that Saturday morning of the finals. The beach was packed and Gia could hear their cheers of support (mainly for Elle) all the way out in the water. She was the underdog in this matchup and everyone knew it. The waves weren’t as generous as they’d been earlier in the week, so selection would be key. Elle had drawn first priority and would go first. She snagged a high arc and rode the front, carving into the pocket, taking it to the inside corner and ripping hard off the top for a fantastic first time out.
Shit.
That ride would pull in a big number from the panel of five judges who would score it on a scale of one through ten. Each competitor’s top two waves from the heat would be added together to come up with their final score. Gia could take on as many waves as she could get in in the heat’s allotted twenty-five minutes, but two of them better be awesome.
Gia’s turn. She paddled forward. Her first wave fizzled early and would score low. Not something she could control, so she shrugged it off and wiped her eyes, clearing them of the salt bath they’d just received. But her second time out yielded quality. She set up a front side wrap in the pocket and came away feeling good, adrenaline surging. Her exit had been masterful. Yes! She’d just killed it on that one. Exactly what she’d needed. That would push her into the lead. She and Elle exchanged a nod across the water; that contact only made Gia want the win more. She cleared her head and prepped herself for the remaining minutes in the heat as the crowd screamed louder. Elle had ground to make up and struggled to find any real foothold on her next few attempts. On what would be one of the last waves in the heat, Elle didn’t fully take advantage, playing it safe. Her timing was off. Gia couldn’t take it anymore and followed Elle out to her wave, once she’d failed to capitalize. She stuck to the rules, however, and stayed out of Elle’s way, honoring her priority. Gia made a meal out of the killer crest, shredding her way down with S turns to the bottom like a champ.
The heat concluded, and with a total score of sixteen to Elle’s fourteen, Gia Malone took the whole damn thing. Holy hell.
The tournament win would contribute 10,000 points toward her ranking, moving her into the number two spot on the leaderboard. She cried out when the scores came down and smiled at the crowd screaming along with her. Elle, a few yards down the beach, nodded Gia’s way and sent her a congratulatory smile. Love lost or not, Gia nodded back, because as a surfer, she had mad respect for Elle, and that’s what today had been about, the work.
Now…it was time to celebrate.
* * *
Two days later, at exactly seven a.m., Gia’s alarm went off. Well, her version of alarm, the morning surf report. Happy to be back in her own bed, she stretched and blinked against the hint of sunlight that slid in from the nearby window as she listened to Joker Johnny outline the conditions on the local beaches. God, it was good to be home.
“It’s gonna be a gnarly one out there today, folks. Buckle up. Lots of morning sickness on the horizon.”
“Perfect,” she mumbled, and pushed herself out of bed.
“Check it, agros. You may be amped to hit the waves, but take it easy. Heavy winds and killer swells should dominate through the afternoon. Choppy stuff, so don’t be a Barney. Stay safe, make good choices, and live to surf another rad day. Tide is peaking at a 5.29 feet at 6:30 a.m., then drops to a 2.03 feet at 12:38 p.m. If you’re looking for clean waves, sit today out. Later this week has you covered. In the meantime, bumps ahead with thirteen- to fifteen-footers on tap.”
“Well, that’s what I’m here for,” Gia said to herself in the mirror, with a smile. “Bring it, California. Game on.”
Already dressed for the waves in trunks and her jersey, Gia pushed open the door to the Cat’s Pajamas, the funky little coffee shop next door to the Seven Shores apartment complex. She lived on the second floor of the twelve-unit building and made daily trips to Pajamas for the best coffee in town. Hands down. The fact that her best friend owned the place, and her routine trips were just as social as they were functional, certainly didn’t hurt.
“Wait,” Isabel said, holding up a hand. “Is that number two in the surf world walking toward us?”
Hadley grabbed Isabel’s wrist. “I think it is. She looks a lot like number three did, but somehow this woman comes with more championship swagger. I’m a little swoony to be in the presence of such a mega-athlete.”
“All hail, number two!” Autumn called, and her friends broke into applause, followed by the morning patrons, most of whom were regulars.
“Knock it off,” Gia said, though the attention gave her a boost, and the corners of her mouth tugged into a grin. She accepted the coffee from Autumn, cream no sugar, her usual order, and took a seat with her friends for Breakfast Club, their daily morning meet-up session. In just a short while, Isabel would head off to the television studio where she worked alongside her girlfriend, Taylor, writing one of the most kick-ass shows on television. Hadley would head to Rodeo Drive and open Silhouette, the posh boutique she assistant managed. Autumn would prepare her afternoon roast and dazzle customers with her warm and welcoming personality. And Gia would head to the beach. While Venice didn’t yield the kind of waves Fiji did, practice was practice, and she was not about to let up when her momentum was so strong. But for now, and most every morning, the four of them started their days together chatting about anything under the sun before dashing off in different directions. She missed these mornings when she was on the road and had grown to savor them when she was on break from the tour.
“So, what did it feel like to go head-to-head with your archrival and win?” Autumn asked. “I mean, that had to be like a delicious cherry on the beach sundae.”
Isabel frowned. “Now I’m picturing sand in a dish.”
“Not as sweet as you probably think,” Gia said. “It felt good, yeah, but it’s almost like
I can’t revel for too long, as there’s still so much work ahead.” She pointed at Autumn. “What I’m more interested in is if they’re kicking yet.”
Autumn placed a hand over her swollen tummy and took a seat. She was four months along and already starting to show. “Flutters only at this point. Kate’s obsessed, however. Stares at my stomach just waiting for that first little foot to give us a hello.” Kate and Autumn had married less than a year ago and still existed in the happy honeymoon haven, grinning whenever they caught the other’s eye. Gia was happy for them.
“I just need to know if these are little tiny boy babies or tiny girl babies or one of each,” Hadley said with wide eyes and a sigh. “I mean, I can plan a variety of unisex outfits in the meantime, but the lack of direction is keeping me up at night. Do you think they like hats?” she asked Autumn. “Have they indicated at all?”
“Hard to say. But another week and you shall have your gender answer. In the meantime, I just pray these two don’t turn me into the size of a Mack truck. At least not yet.”
“You’re gorgeous,” Gia said. “I thought so as soon as I walked in.”
Autumn offered a watery smile. “You’re going to make me cry, Gia-pet. My hormones are on the attack and I have the weepies. No sincere compliments. None.”
Hadley kissed Autumn’s cheek with a smack and turned to Isabel. “Speaking of gorgeous people, Taylor isn’t joining us today?”
“Nope. We spent the night apart because she has an early morning.”
Hadley shook her head slowly. “You guys are the most pragmatic couple I’ve ever met.”
Isabel’s girlfriend was the well-known TV producer Taylor Andrews, who just so happened to think Isabel hung the moon. “Raisin has an appointment at the vet, so she has to do this whole pep talk thing with him. Who knew Dachshunds were so easily influenced? Not that it works for me,” she said, and shrugged. “I can get him to chase a rubber pork chop, but she’s able to change his whole life view in one chat. He’s obsessed with her. I fault him not.” Isabel turned to Gia. “Oh, and she watched your finals online from her office. Said to give you a hug just from her. We can get to that later.”
Gia smiled. “Give her my love.”
“Done.”
Hadley, always one for following the surfing news, sat taller in her seat. “So, what do you think of the reports that you interfered on Elle Britton’s final wave? Not at all true, by the way.”
Gia sighed. She’d heard the speculation that she’d edged Elle out of her final opportunity to score by dropping in on her wave, but she hadn’t broken any rules. That was just part of the sport. “Nothing I did stopped her from going for it. If I’d interfered, I would have been docked. I wasn’t.”
“Is that what she thinks, too?” Hadley asked, the always eager information-monger. “That you stole her wave?”
Gia passed her a look. “Are you worried about Elle Britton’s feelings right now?”
“No way. I just don’t like the idea of anyone being mad at you. It’s not fair.”
Gia softened. “In that case, hard to say. She sounded upbeat and perky at the presser after the heat. But then she always does, so…”
Isabel stared at Gia, tapping her chin. “She drives you crazy, doesn’t she? I mean, I can just tell.”
“She’s my competition,” Gia said plainly. “So yeah. Plus, her Miss Perfect persona is tired at this point.”
Isabel looked deep in thought. “Right, but how does that make you feel? Physically, emotionally? How does the rivalry manifest itself?”
“Are you trying to put me in your TV show?” Gia asked, leaning forward. “You are, aren’t you?” Isabel was constantly studying them for hooks, or story ideas, gestures, and reactions. The dangers of befriending a writer. In the year that they’d been friends, Gia had gotten better at catching her in the act.
Isabel sat back in her chair, shrugging in surrender. “It’s possible we’re working on a rivals-to-lovers storyline on The Subdivision. Just using your experience for the rivals portion I’m developing. I need sparks, you know?”
“Oh, sparks are good,” Hadley said, resting her chin on her palm. “I love sparks. Write lots of those.”
“No.” Gia shook her head. “We don’t have any sparks.”
“Depends on the definition,” Autumn said. “Sometimes you spot the sparks right away, like with me and Kate. Other times, they sneak up on you.”
“Like with me and Taylor,” Isabel said, with a smolder.
Gia shook her head. “By any definition, we don’t have them. At all. None of those kinds.”
Isabel studied her. “Does she hate you back?”
“Probably. I’ve never asked.”
“Gotchaaaa.” Isabel drew the word out, looking super thoughtful. “No sparks. But when you see her, how do you feel? Still applies.”
That part was easy. “She makes my skin itch and my blood get hot and I just have this intense need to take her down.”
“As in down to the floor?” Autumn asked, with a twinkle in her eye, as she swapped out the creamer.
“Maybe a bed?” Isabel joined in, with a sideways grin. She was messing with Gia. It’s what she did to them all. The Isabel charm.
“Not even close,” Gia answered dryly.
“You guys,” Hadley said, waving them off. “It’s not like that with them. They’re like oil and water. Ursula and the Little Mermaid. Beauty and the Beast.”
“Beauty and the Beast hooked up,” Isabel said. “Big-time. Dancing furniture made it happen.”
Hadley looked mystified. “Good point.”
“Did you just call me a beast?” Gia asked.
Hadley shook her head apologetically. “I was on a cartoon kick and got carried away. Happens a lot.”
“Mm-hmm.” Gia downed the remainder of her coffee, grateful to have it back in her life even temporarily. Talking about Elle Britton just made her anxious to get to the beach and surf, remembering that every second of the season counted.
Isabel wasn’t done and raised one finger, regarding the table. “Let’s not forget the photo of Gia in which she appeared to be checking out Ms. Britton in a swimsuit.” She turned her phone around to reveal the offending photo.
Gia closed her eyes. Not this again. A year and half prior, as Elle was speaking to the media, a photographer had captured a shot of Gia looking on. However, it appeared upon first glance that Gia was infatuated with more than just Elle’s words to the press. The photograph had garnered a lot of attention and speculation. She loathed that photo to this day. “That photo can go to hell. We all know it’s not what it looked like.”
“Do we? And when do you see Ms. Britton again?” Isabel asked, sliding her phone into her bag.
Gia swore Isabel asked the question just to see how her features would react. “Well, nosy writer, probably not until next week. There’s a Billabong party in Malibu I’ll hit up.”
“Who are they again?” Autumn squinted. “Pregnancy brain.”
“Surf accessories,” Hadley supplied. “Clothes, gear. They also sponsor tournaments and surfers.” She turned to Gia. “Is this party beach attire?”
“Unfortunately, I think it’s a little dressier than that.” Gia glared at the thought. She hated wearing actual clothes.
“Perfect. When should we consult?” Hadley asked, always ready to put together the perfect outfit for her friends. Gia wasn’t one to refuse that kind of professional help. “I’m thinking white. Your tan looks amazing in white, as does that dark hair.”
“White it is,” Gia said.
“I will put something together and we can play runway in a few days.”
“It’s fun when you get to play runway,” Isabel said. “The time Hadley planned my look, I got lucky that night, and many nights after.”
Hadley’s eyes lit up. “That should go on my commercial! If I were ever to get a commercial.”
“Well,” Isabel said, with a saucy wink, “you’d have earned it.” She stood.
“I’m off to save Hollywood.”
Hadley joined her. “Off to save Rodeo Drive.”
“I’ll stay here and save the good people of Pajamas,” Autumn said from her chair. They all looked to Gia.
“Fine,” she said, with a smothered smile. “I’m off to save…the ocean, I guess.”
“Someone has to,” Hadley said, beaming. “Go team!” The four of them headed off to their own separate corners of the world. Maybe they’d run into each other in the outdoor courtyard of Seven Shores later that day, or go for an impromptu dinner or a jaunt to the beach. If not, they’d see each other again at Pajamas the next morning.
Same bat time. Same bat place.
Gia smiled at that constant in her life. She didn’t devalue it or toss it aside. Coming off the road like she just had made her understand more than ever how important good friends were. She’d slay dragons for Autumn, Hadley, or Isabel any day of the week. No one would have to ask her twice.
Chapter Two
“I think you should stop beating yourself up about it.”
Elle pulled her hair from the ponytail holder and gave it a shake, noticing it was still partially wet from their earlier practice session. She turned to her best friend, Holly, who sat beside her on a chaise lounge, just yards from the ocean. “I’ve tried,” Elle sighed. The depression over the whole thing was not letting up. “It’s not working. I don’t lose in final heats, Hol. I just don’t. That’s not the kind of competitor I want to be. So what the hell happened?”
“I think we know what happened. Someone dropped in on a wave that was supposed to be yours and wasn’t penalized for interference.”
“Not something I would have done, but it worked in her favor.” She stared off in the distance, replaying that moment in her mind. She’d been about to attack the wave from the outside pocket when Gia Malone had shown up in her peripheral and knocked her out of concentration. Partially her own fault, but Gia had taken a pretty big liberty.
Sparks Like Ours Page 2