Laguna Cove (2 page)

Okay, maybe on the surface, moving to Laguna Beach, into a big house with a private beach, didn’t sound so bad, but it was all relative to what she was leaving behind.

She shifted her purse to the other shoulder and mentally scolded herself for drinking too much, passing out, and generally wasting the past five hours on the plane. And now she didn’t even have time to freshen up, since she knew her dad would be waiting at baggage claim. And even though she didn’t have time to look in a mirror, she was willing to bet she wasn’t exactly at her best right now.

The blond attendant stopped and turned while the rest of the group continued ahead. “You can take that escalator right over there all the way down to the baggage carousels. Have fun!” she said, turning and rushing to catch up with the rest of the crew.

Anne used the thirty-second escalator ride for some quick damage control. Breath mint? Check. Stila lip gloss? Check. Designer sunglasses? Check. Red wine stains on brand-new vintage-wash two-hundred-dollar jeans? Triple check. Ridiculously expensive wrinkled-up white T-shirt with drool stain dripping down the front? You bet.

God, what she really needed was a toothbrush, a shower, and a decent meal to soak up all the alcohol. But since she hadn’t seen her dad for the month he spent getting the house ready, she was banking on the fact that he’d be so excited to see her that he wouldn’t notice how she’d boozed it up in first class.

And speaking of Dad, where the hell was he? At six foot three, with a lean build and a head of thick silver hair, it’s not like he was hard to miss. But after scanning the crowd she didn’t see him anywhere.

Oh, please, don’t let him be late
, she thought, heading over to the baggage carousel and retrieving her cell phone from the bottom of her purse. But when she flipped it open and tried to turn it on, nothing happened.
Oh, great
. She’d used up her entire battery on the limo ride from her house in Connecticut to the JFK Airport. About thirty seconds were spent saying good-bye to her mom. The rest was saying good-bye to her friends and, of course, Justin.

She sat there with her two oversized bags and wondered what the hell she was supposed to do now. She didn’t even know where she lived.

chapter two

“Are you Anne?”

Anne looked up to see a guy with messy longish wavy brown hair wearing a surf logo T-shirt, shredded flip-flops, and dark blue board shorts. He was kind of cute.
If you like that sort of thing,
she thought.

But she was a savvy New Yorker, not some sun-drained local. So she narrowed her eyes and said, “Maybe.”

“Cut me some slack, would ya? Traffic on the 405 was a bitch, and if your dad finds out I was late, he’ll kill me.” He smiled then, exposing a slight gap between his two front teeth. But even though it made him look even cuter, Anne was unmoved. After all, she had a boyfriend. She was no pushover.

“So how do you know my dad?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest and enjoying herself for the first time in too many hours to count.

“He’s my boss. I run errands for him and stuff. My name’s Jake.”

“Are you my new nanny?” She laughed.

Jake shook his head and glanced at the display on his cell phone. “C’mon, dude, I’m in a time crunch.”

“Okay,” Anne said, standing up and grabbing her bag. “But I’m driving.”

“I don’t think so,” he said, taking her bag and leading her out the door to the parking structure.

“I’m a good driver. I’ve had my license for almost six months.” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Maybe so, but have you seen your teeth recently? They’re all purple. Looks like you’ve been hittin’ it hard on the plane.”

“Are you serious?” she asked, panicked.

“See for yourself.” He opened the door of the silver Mercedes convertible and flipped down the mirrored visor.

“Oh, God. My dad’s gonna
kill
me. Can we stop somewhere so I can brush my teeth?”

“Dude, you need a little more than that. Let’s get you a coffee, some aspirin, and a bottle of water. I’ve got some Visine right here.”

Big surprise
. “I really appreciate that. But can you do me a favor?” Anne asked, more than a little annoyed with him for insinuating that she was drunk, even though she was.

“Sure, what?”

“Please stop calling me dude. My name is Anne.”

“Whatever.”

Despite the double-shot venti nonfat latte she practically inhaled, Anne fell right to sleep. It wasn’t until Jake nudged her hard in the arm and said, “You’re not gonna want to miss this,” that she woke up.

“Where are we?” she asked, rubbing her eyes and straightening her T-shirt, which had risen up and twisted around.

“Laguna Beach. This is Laguna Canyon Road, and in just a few minutes you won’t believe your eyes.”

He was right. They drove through a narrow, twisting road cut right down the center of a canyon and then suddenly came to a halt. Right in front of her was a big gorgeous beach filled with volleyball players, basketball players, sunbathers, and body boarders.

“What beach is that?” she asked, trying to sound only curious and not at all impressed.

“Main Beach.”

“It’s nice.” She shrugged, craning her neck to look back at it, as he turned left onto Pacific Coast Highway.

“You think that’s nice, wait ‘til you see your beach. That’s one of the best benefits of working for your dad. Your beach has awesome waves, and I get to surf there nearly every day.”

“I’m not interested in that. I’m into diving,” Anne said, gawking at the beautiful coastline in spite of herself.

“That’s cool.” He nodded. “But you really should try it.”

“No thanks,” she said, crossing her arms in front of her.

Jake continued down PCH, past huge custom oceanfront homes, and a spectacular, sprawling resort called the Montage. “We’re almost there,” he said, waving at the uniformed guard and driving through the gate.

“This is where I live? This is Laguna Cove?” Anne asked, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice.

“This is it. See the house on the end? That’s yours.”

“Oh. My. God.” She sat and stared at the large, sprawling home built on the edge of a cliff as Jake parked in the driveway.

“Go ahead,” he said. “I’ll get your bags.”

Anne grabbed her purse and ran for the door, excited to see her dad and check out her new room. But when she tried to open it, the door was locked. So she knocked. But nobody answered. “Dad?” she called, knocking even louder and ringing the bell.

“He’s probably not home yet. Here, use the key,” Jake said, tossing her a shiny gold key.

“But he’ll be home soon, right?” she asked, opening the door to an expansive foyer filled with tropical plants and freshly cut flowers.

“Doubtful. They were having problems on the set, and he said he didn’t know if he’d make it home tonight. But I’m sure he’ll call you later.”

“You mean I’m supposed to stay here
by myself
?” she asked, feeling more than a little panicked.

“Yeah. You can totally party. But if I were you, I’d just lie down and take a nap,” Jake said, setting her bags on the travertine-tiled floor.

“Well, where are you going?” she asked, suddenly dreading his leaving. The last thing she wanted was to be left alone in the big unfamiliar house.

“Hittin’ the beach. There’s six-foot swells out there.” He smiled.

“But, don’t you have more work to do? You said in the airport that you were on a time crunch.” She hated herself for sounding so needy.

“I didn’t want to miss the surf. You were my last chore.” He shrugged.

“Thanks a lot,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“You know what I mean.” He turned and headed for the door. “See you around,” he called over his shoulder.

“Whatever,” she said, standing in the foyer, watching him leave.

When the door closed behind him, she was left with nothing but an overwhelming loneliness and complete silence.
I better get used to it
, she thought. Then she grabbed her bags and walked down a long hallway in search of her new bedroom.

chapter three

Ellie weaved her long white-blond hair into a single braid that cascaded all the way down her back, landing just short of her bikini bottoms. She wriggled into her wetsuit and looked at the clock one last time. It was already five forty-five and there was still no sign of them.

Grabbing her surfboard, she headed out, closing the glass sliding door slowly and carefully behind her. The last thing she needed was to wake up her brother, who had come in late the night before, or even worse her dad, who was on her case for just about everything these days.

She made her way down the stairs leading from her house to the beach, and scanned for her friends, hoping they were already out there, but secretly knowing better.

After a few stretches and beach sprints to warm up her tired muscles, she headed into the water, dropped her board, and began paddling out. When she got past the break, she lay resting, with her chin propped against her folded arms, enjoying the mellow sway of the water and the quiet solitude of an empty beach. She loved getting out early and watching the ocean change from a moonlit sparkly sequin to a sun-warmed velvet. But even though she liked having the waves to herself and not having to wait in a never-ending lineup, she still missed the company of her best friends, Lola and Jade.

It had started last spring. The early-morning surf ritual that had bonded them all through elementary, junior high, and well into their freshman and sophomore years of high school began to gradually taper off. First to three times a week, then two, and now, by early September, she was lucky if they surfed together on a random Saturday. And even then, by the time they showed up practically all of Laguna Cove was in the lineup and it took all day just to get a turn.

But Jade and Lola didn’t seem to care. Suddenly, they were content to just lie on their towels reading fashion magazines and checking out all the guys, just like all the other beach Barbies they used to make fun of, and Ellie just didn’t get it. For one thing, the guys they were looking at were the same old totally immature, unfocused bros they’d known since grade school. And Ellie knew for a fact that not one of them was worth talking about, much less missing waves for.

Well, except for Chris, who was not only amazingly cute, with his aqua-blue eyes (the same color as the Fiji waters on a cloudless day), tanned skin, and shaggy, sun-streaked hair that was constantly falling into his eyes, but also incredibly smart (he was in all the same advanced-placement classes as she) and an accomplished surfer, maybe even the best in Laguna Cove (well, after her older brother, Dean).

But nobody knew how she felt about Chris—not Jade, not Lola, and definitely
not Chris
! To him, they were just good buds who went way back, and that’s the way it would have to stay. Ellie couldn’t afford to waste time obsessing over some guy. She had to stay focused on the important things, like maintaining her perfect 4.0 GPA, her position as Surf Club president, and taking first at the upcoming San Onofre Surf Fest competition so she could get noticed by the sponsors she’d been dreaming of for too many years to count.

With her five-foot-nine, slim, toned frame and long blond hair pulled back into its usual braid or ponytail, exposing her perfect face, there was something so graceful and delicate about her, people often assumed she was a model or ballerina—that is, until they saw her surf. In the ocean, she was a strong and fearless competitor who could carve up the face of a wave with both elegance and aggression.

Guys also came easy to Ellie, always drawn first by her looks, then later by her brains and talent. She had a handful of good guy friends she could always count on as a last-minute prom date or emergency flat-tire fixer. But she never allowed any of these friendships to go further than a quick peck on the cheek or, even more likely, a brief hug. That she could have pretty much any guy she wanted was merely a fact that didn’t mean much to her. Especially since she only wanted one.

But even Chris, awesome as he was, could not get in the way of her dreams. She had a lot to live up to, and it was like her dad always said: “Go after your goals with absolute tunnel vision!” “Allow nothing to get in your way!” “You have to name it before you can claim it!”

Okay, the last may have been Dr. Phil. But whatever. The bottom line was she couldn’t allow herself to get distracted.
No matter what.

She scanned the empty beach, looking for her friends even though she knew they wouldn’t show; then, feeling the water beginning to rise and swell beneath her, she started paddling, jumping up on her board with the strength and assurance of someone more comfortable in the ocean than anywhere else. But as always, on her first wave of the day (especially when no one was watching), there were no fancy tricks, no special maneuvers to impress the judges. It was just Ellie, her board, and the ocean all blending in harmony for that one perfect moment. She allowed herself one soul surf a day, but she refused to admit it was always her favorite.

After several decent waves, she checked the tide watch her dad had bought her for Christmas last year and realized she barely had time for one more before she had to head back home, change, and meet her trainer for her two-hour gym workout.

Jumping up on her board, she sensed that this last wave would be the best of the day, as she expertly cranked it around, catching the lip and slicing through the cool, green curl.
If this was the Surf Fest, those sponsors would be double-checking my name right about now,
she thought.

But just as she was going for a really big finish, she spotted another surfer paddling out. Sun-streaked hair, tanned skin, perfect body, and even though she couldn’t exactly see them from this distance, she knew the eyes were clear, like blue topaz. And just as she was thinking about those eyes, she lost focus, wiped out, and swallowed salt water right in front of him.