“Oh! How wonderful. What did you call it? Cali Chic? Beach Greek?” Abigail flushed with pride. Somehow Sarah and her wanton ways had led them straight to an exclusive club for their event that lived up to Penny and Chase’s elusive standards. And, honestly, how much could tacos cost? What luck this Lloyd had turned out to be. “I certainly will have Sarah take photos! And put that date on hold if you think it’s . . . amazing.”

“I do. Alexa, what do you think?”

Alexa was a big believer in checking things off the list, no matter what list she might be working. Getting the wedding venue and the rehearsal dinner spot secured in a single day would be a triumph. And it wasn’t her job to tell Abigail that the grilled-lobster tacos probably cost more than filet mignon at the best steakhouse in town. She had clients that liked to whisper such fun facts in her ear when she was informing them of the cost of certain luxury resorts in the Caribbean. As in, “We pay twenty-five dollars a taco for the lobster ones at Padaro. I think we can afford the cost of a rum punch at Jade Mountain.”

So, Alexa kept her mouth shut and responded with enthusiasm. “I think Penny and Chase would love to have the rehearsal dinner there. It’s a Montecito classic. Not something you can find anywhere else. Penny in particular would be thrilled. That’s her favorite beach,” Alexa said, trying not to give away her secret connection to the PSC and the evenings she’d sampled the lobster tacos and the palomas.

Her mind drifted back twenty years to the handsome surfer she’d dated, and her neck got warm. Her only surfer, for the record. A fall fling that involved bonfires and more on the beach. She wondered whatever happened to Peter “Pedro” Merriweather, real estate scion and water rat. Probably married and divorced by now. But they had some fun while it lasted. “Madison is right. It has a great vibe.”

“I’ll text Sarah right now,” Abigail said, thrilled at the development. Her headache was clearing and she felt wide awake now. This town, maybe even the iced coffee, seemed to be working some magic on her. Wait until she told Aunt B the rehearsal dinner was at an exclusive surf shack. Forget Patmos on the Pacific. More like Gidget on the Gold Coast! American Riviera Retro! No doubt the venue was column-worthy.

Madison pulled the car into the parking lot for the Montecito Women’s Club. Compared to an on-the-beach clubhouse, this location looked tired and unremarkable. There was zero enthusiasm in the Prius.

“Let’s make this quick,” Alexa said.

“Agreed,” said the wedding coordinator.

*  *  *