Malibu Rising: A Novel - Taylor Reid (top 10 motivational books .TXT) 📗

been invited to tag along with a producer the summer Gorgeous, Baby came out. That night back in ’80, he’d smoked a joint with Tuesday Hendricks and made her laugh. Every year he came since then, he felt a little bit more like he belonged.

That night, when Bobby set foot on the landing of Nina Riva’s front steps, he saw that the party was packed. He was, in fact, the first person to comment out loud that things were getting a bit crazier than in years past. His exact word was “Whoa.”

He looked through to the kitchen to see Nina Riva and that tennis guy. She was sipping a glass of wine and talking to a woman next to her.

Bobby couldn’t help but smile just looking at her. He’d loved her T-shirt ad, with her hair hanging long and her arm up against the doorframe. That see-through shirt and red underwear. Soft to the touch. That was gold. He’d come to Hollywood, in part, to meet a girl like that, so tall and lean and tan. California Girls, man. Heartbreakers, all of them.

Bobby watched Nina touch her husband’s arm and then leave the kitchen, out of his sight. He remembered his mission and got to work. He had spent the day procuring an obscene amount of coke and he was going to give it out to everybody. Wallflower no more.

As Bobby stood in the foyer, he saw a cocktail waitress—Caroline—walking by with a tray of shrimp.

“Coconut shrimp?” she asked when Bobby caught her eye. She moved the tray toward him, grabbing him a napkin.

The very fact of her beauty made Bobby nervous. He tried not to think of it. “Can I … Can I have your tray?” he asked.

“My tray?” she said.

“Yes, please. If you don’t mind.”

“I can’t just give you my tray.”

“Because it has shrimp on it?” he said.

“Uh …” she said. “Yeah.”

Bobby, in a moment of inspiration, took each one of the three remaining shrimp and ate them. And then he said, “Now it doesn’t have shrimp on it.”

“I guess so,” Caroline said. She handed it to him and smiled and then started to walk away.

“Wait,” Bobby said. “I have a gift. For you. If you want. Just hang on.” He looked at her for only a split second, but in that split second he felt the spark of something strong enough to give him hope in himself.

He wiped the tray down with a napkin. And then took half a brick of cocaine from the inside of his jacket. There was another full brick in his car.

“Oh my God,” Caroline said.

“I know.” Bobby poured a little out and started cutting it into as many lines as he could using his Amex Gold. And then he rolled up a hundred. He was embarrassed it was the smallest bill he had.

Then, he held the tray up like a cater waiter would, and he looked at her. She probably went for the smooth guys with the nice hair. Probably didn’t give a second glance to the awkward, chubby ones like him. But somehow, in this moment, he didn’t feel foolish for at least trying. And he briefly considered that maybe that had been the problem all along: that he spent so much time feeling foolish instead of just letting go and risking looking like a fool. “Care for a line?” Bobby said.

Caroline was enchanted by the reversal. It was more effective than Bobby ever could have imagined. She would so much rather be the one being served than the one doing the serving.

She smiled at him and took the rolled-up hundred he’d extended. She leaned in. It felt cold in her nose, burned her sinuses. She lifted her head back up and said, “Thank you.”

Bobby smiled at her. “Sure, anytime.” Then he added, “Just to be clear, for you, I would do absolutely anything at absolutely any time.”

She blushed.

What was it about him? He wasn’t cute. He didn’t seem cool. But he did make her feel admired. It was as if he understood that she was the true star of this party. And she had come out to Los Angeles all the way from Maryland in search of that very thing: to feel like a star.

“You’re a nice guy,” Caroline said. “Aren’t you?”

Bobby gave her a lopsided smile. “Cripplingly so.”

“Can I get in on that?” asked Kyle Manheim, who appeared out of nowhere. Caroline had seen him come in with that woman Wendy and the rest of the Riva’s Seafood staff right at seven. He seemed to be intent on having the greatest night of his life.

Bobby held the tray out to him, magnanimously. “I brought enough for everybody!” he yelled. Caroline tried to slink away, but Bobby mustered up all of his courage and grabbed her hand. “Stay,” he said. “If you want to.”

“I’m working,” she said.

“But there’s no more shrimp.” Something about the way he said it, the way he was pleading with her to stay by his side, the simplicity of his desire for her company … it was one of the most romantic things Caroline had ever heard. But there’s no more shrimp.

Caroline will think of that moment later on tonight, when she and Bobby have sex in the coat closet by the front door. No one will know they are there. And Bobby will cradle her hair in his hands to make sure her head doesn’t hit the wall behind them. And it will be tender and sweet. And when they are in the throes of passion, cramped up together in that tiny space, barely air between them, Bobby will say, very quietly, “I never thought I’d have a chance with a girl like you,” and Caroline’s heart will flutter.

They will not know what the future holds or if their paths will ever cross again. But they will feel that—for one night at least—someone has seen them as they have always wanted to be seen. And that will be enough.