Julian, Lulu, Harriett, and I careen down the Santa Monica Freeway, en route to Jaime Knox's destination wedding. Lulu drives. Julian waves glamorously at what he assumes to be celebrity-filled cars zipping past us. Harriett does her best to console an inconsolable me.

"I hate you, Julian. If it weren't for you we'd be in a nice, normal rental car. But no, you had to have a convertible," I yell over my shoulder, trying in vain to control my wind-whipped hair.

"Don't yell," he shoots back. "The paparazzi will get a shot of your ugly anger face."

"Oh Annie, don't be upset! This is good, we're so close," Harriett promises. And sure enough ten agonizing minutes later, Lulu whips our beat-up ride, off traffic-ridden Lincoln Street and onto Pico Avenue which promises to lead to the sandy beaches of the Pacific Ocean.

Reading about the ideal-esque beachfront location of Jaime Knox's soon-to-be nuptials online was one thing. Pulling up to the sliding glass doors of the hotel site in a decade-old convertible, it turns out, is quite another. My legs give out beneath me as I stumble from the car. "I can't do this. I won't do this. We have to leave."

Like a well-orchestrated ballet my friends intervene in my bailout. Julian grabs one arm and Lulu the other. Harriett tips the valet and helps the young bellhop with our bags (well everyone's bags but Julian's). Arm-in-arm, as a team, we walk into Shutter's Seaside Resort.

Harriett and I streak toward the ladies room, me to fix my hair and her to actually use the restroom. Julian flops onto the lobby couch and poses for imaginary paparazzi. Lulu is left with the responsibility of booking our rooms which, as luck has it, is her specialty.

That's why, when Harriett and I re-joined them in the lobby to find Julian jumping up and down, screaming, "Room Nazis!" and "Get me to Chateau Mourmont!" and Lulu yelling angrily into her cell (most likely to her father) that quite frankly I'm surprised.

Harriett and I freeze. We're far enough away from the scene unfolding at the guest check-in to maintain a certain level of security, yet close enough to determine the problem.

A smug-sounding employee informs us, "Shutters on the Beach is fully booked to maximum capacity. No matter who you are." (pointed looks at both Julian and Lulu). "This is tourist season and we're hosting a rather large wedding this weekend to boot. So while I apologize, we have nothing available for you at this time."

I feel a rush of relief as fate steps in. I grab Harriet's hand in an attempt to lead the escape from the resort, Jaime's wedding resort. And then I stop dead in my tracks. I don't move. I can't breathe. My eyes bulge wide. My legs buckle at the knees. Holding Harriett to steady my weight, I clench her arm hard enough to leave nail marks and mouth, "That's her.
That is Kate Oliver, Jaime's fiancée." I motion with my eyes to the happy, young (younger even then her Facebook pictures led me to believe) blonde breezing her way toward my clueless friends.

Julian's voice rings out loudly, "Yes! Yes, infidel, we know about the wedding. We are the wedding party! Give us keys to your best room, servant man!"

Harriett holds me up as I watch, both of us are mesmerized, shocked into an impending train-wreck like trance.

"Oh? You are with the Knox and Oliver wedding?" the concierge asks, seeming a bit suspect.

"Yes, you fool!" says Julian in a loud indignant voice, ripping his Dior sunglasses from his face for the first time since landing in California.

Lulu interrupts none too soon. "We are with the wedding," she says, with false authority and a flirtatious smile. "We're friends of the groom, Jaime Knox," she adds for good measure, hoping the detail of a first name will lend credence to our story.

The good news is the story (or Lulu's dazzling smile) works. We end up with a beachfront suite for the entire weekend. The bad news is Kate Oliver overhears the entire conversation and is now animatedly speaking to Julian about God knows what.

"Go get him," I squeal to Harriett, pushing her in their direction. "Get him!"

But Julian, never one to miss an opportunity for drama, realizes his almighty position and has absolutely no intentions of going anywhere at all.

"Ladies," he calls out, using a honey-sweet tone. "Darlings, come here!" He smiles wickedly. "Come here and meet Kate Oliver, the soon to be Kate Knox."

Push it, p-p-p-push it! Push it real good...the star, that is. Thank you for reading and voting! Makes my day :)

Also, I am taking part in the Brigade Watty Awards, and I'll be in love with you forever for voting for Fag Hag in the contest. I am chapter 83 and here is the link:

http://my.w.tt/UiNb/io0KGX0lkv

Thank you so very much!!