Greta hits rock bottom and trades in her Chardonnay for coffee. She moves to sunny Bombay Beach, Florida where she gets a new apartment in a quaint cottage, a new job and a new lease on life. She spends time at the beach soaking up the sun and reflecting on her past destructive relationships. She meets a mysterious married man Garth, who she keeps bumping into. Greta dates a local musician Jimmy, but after his untimely suicide she must find the cause of his death. She and her girlfriend Kat put on a concert with the help of magnetic club owner Sly and invite superstar Crash to perform all of Jimmy’s music. Will they discover why Jimmy took his own life?

Sly is a dazzling man, living the high life as owner of one of the towns hottest clubs, Voodoo. He has it all, wine, women, a beach house and a sister who has one of Hollywoods’ hottest cooking shows, Elvira! He cannot find love in his life, until he meets Greta. But is it too late to change his ways?


4. Sunburnt

Chapter 5


Being a rock widow is not my job, so I would hire people to do it for me.

Courtney Love


Garth drove up to the valet at The Falls Clubhouse. The driveway was littered with the occasional Rolls Royce, Jaguar or Mercedes. He pulled up the Escalade and popped the trunk. The valets took his clubs and placed them on a cart. He handed the valet a tip.


“Sir, Mr. Weid is here, he’s waiting for you in the clubhouse.”


“Thanks.” Garth went inside and entered the Polo Room. Clifford his golfing buddy was sitting at a table, yammering away on his cell.


“Listen, it’s a three picture deal or no deal at all. That’s my final offer. I can do it over a five year contract, that’s it David.” Clifford huffed and puffed on the phone.


Garth waited for him to finish. They had been close friends for twenty years. Clifford was a filmmaker but was slightly unorthodox about his business tactics, shunning major studios and preferring to go the independent route in filmmaking. He was a renegade.


“I need ten million to do three pictures. I guarantee they will be stellar films, marketable, box office hits, all three, that’s all I ask… Can’t you see me through this? It’s not rocket science Dave.” Clifford continued on the phone. “Alright, thanks.”


Clifford hung up the phone and smiled at Garth. “Sealed. Three picture deal for ten million dollars.” Garrett smiled. “Congratulations are in order!” they hugged briefly.


“Let’s play golf!” said Garth.


“Yeah, what are we waiting for?” Clifford stood up. He was a wiry guy, weighed in about 170 pounds, with a short beard and a shaved head. He was short in comparison to Garth, who loomed over him. “I know I can ace the back nine today so you better watch out,” said Clifford.


“Oh, ho, I don’t know. Last time we played I distinctly recall you paring every hole. I plan to get a few eagles in today.” Said Garth.


“I’ve been practicing my swing. I found a new secret to hitting the ball, make it fly like a motherfucker. You Tube stuff….“ Clifford smiled.


“This I’ve got to see.” Said Garth.


They got into their cart and headed off to the first hole, where Clifford hit the first ball. “That’s what I’m talking about buddy.” Garth was up to bat. “Watch this!” he drove the ball almost to the green . “Nice shot,” said Clifford. “”I’ve been reading too, Ben Hogan.”  They drove to the green to find Cliffords’ ball. “There it is ….. Alright, watch this….” He putted the ball into the hole. “Now that’s what I’m talking about dude.” Garth putted his ball and missed. “Damn!” he hit his putter on the grass.


“Take that in your pipe and smoke it,” said Clifford. They drove to the next hole. 

“So what you working on now? Any more spec homes on the ocean?” asked Clifford.


“No, I’m afraid that market has dried up for now with this economy, there just aren’t the five million dollar buyer out there that used to be there. “I’m thinking of getting into tech stuff. I’ve got a connection out in Silicone Valley that’s making a new mobile phone for kids. Could be very lucrative.”


“Wow! Sounds good. Any way I can get in on that deal?” Clifford asked.

“Sure, put in a hundred thou and you’re in…”

 Clifford thought for a moment. “I’ll think about it.”



Chapter 6


I'm still friends with all my exes, apart from my husbands.



I guess I got lucky when I found the apartment in Bombay beach. I found it on Craigslist  and called that day to see it. It was a guest house in back of an older fifties style house on a big lot with a lot of fox tail palm trees in front.  A skinny pink flamingo mailbox graced the entry. I pulled into the driveway and an older lady came out to greet me. She was wearing a housedress with flip flops and walked with a slightly hunched over back.


“Right around the back dear.” She said


She showed me through the separate entrance of the apartment building into a room with a small kitchen, lots of windows and a Key West style bathroom, complete with bright salmon colored walls and white wood trim. I loved the place right away and offered her a deposit on it.


“It’s just me and Ed here, and we’re not home much, we go and visit our kids up north. We expect you to watch the place for us when we’re gone, and feed our cat - he’s Blackie, he is no problem at all.” I smiled at her, “That’s no problem. You can trust me. I can take care of Blackie, I love cats.”I said.


We did the deal and I had my place.


“I’ll leave you here a moment so you can look at it again, “ said the old Lady.

“Thanks…”I was excited.


“I’m Marion by the way…. she smiled kindly at me. “I’m  Greta. ”I smiled back.


Now it was time to go hunting for furniture and trinkets. Bombay Beach was full of great little shops to buy ornaments and used things. I decided to go with an all white theme for my decor, that would make it easy to buy stuff. White.  White curtains, white bedspread, white accessories. White, clean, pure, a symbol of my starting over again. I felt a kind of happiness at the thought of starting over in a new place. It would be a nice change after living with dick fuck in his crummy, messed up condo. His idea of decorating had been an old sectional couch with a chrome table and an old lamp from his mothers garage. It was Salvation Army at its best, no style, no sense of design for that loser. Part of me missed him, part of me was glad he was done.


Suddenly there I was, thinking about him again. I wondered what he was doing now, probably sitting at some tiki bar somewhere telling some bullshit story to some dumb broad who would go back to his lousy apartment for the price of a beer. Probably he would tell her what a bitch I was, how I didn’t understand him and what a lousy lover I had been. Some dumb broad who would probably fall in love with Peter and send the rest of her life with him. They would probably have a big, tacky, expensive wedding, the kind we never had gotten around to. Good riddance, I thought, she can have him. I am done, done, done with that loser and if he ever comes into my life again I will kill him.


He caused me so much pain and I went through so much bullshit and for what? To be left with one huge Visa bill, a faded black eye, a damaged car and box full of apology note, which reminded me that I should burn those in case Mr. Right ever found them and blackmails me with them. Reminders of the past… No thanks. There was no sentiment to be found in this heart of mine.


I sat down in an old chair in the empty apartment and started to sob huge, deep sobs. There I was, feeling sorry for myself, thinking of the past and all the hurt and negative emotions came pouring out. Four years was a long time. Never again. I wiped my nose on my tee shirt and dried my eyes. I looked around the apartment and decided to make this new place a happy place, my place, where no one could ever hurt me again.

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