Page 20 of Try Me

“Is that a promise?” McKenna asked.

Declan could almost hear his agent salivating over the line. “Yes,” Declan said, sliding the invitation back inside the envelope. He’d made his decision. He couldn’t turn back now. “You’ll have to sign Pearl, though. That’s the deal.”

“Okay,” McKenna agreed. “Done.”

“Thanks.” Declan wondered if he’d fallen into a trap. It had been far too easy to convince McKenna.

“She must be some looker to have you so twisted up.”

“Nevermind that,” Declan said, feeling strangely possessive over Pearl. “Just get her in the exhibition before the contest. Can you do that?”

“I’ll take care of it,” McKenna promised.

“When do they announce the others surfers?” Declan asked. Now that he’d committed, he was dying to know the other competitors, but the directors liked to keep things under wraps to prolong suspense.

“I have a list,” McKenna said. “You were the last to commit.”

Declan stood up and paced across the room again, stretching the phone cord as taut as his chest. “Tell me,” he said.

McKenna told him to hold on, and Declan waited with impatience as he found the list. McKenna started reading off the names while Declan held his breath in anticipation, waiting to hear Keoni’s name.

Reno Morales, James Johnson, Murray Yabarak, Bobby Carter.

“Bobby Carter?” Declan interrupted in surprise. Bobby hadn’t done well on the circuit this year. Did he deserve a spot?

“Bobby Carter,” McKenna said in a toneless voice. “Not one of these guys can beat you.”

“Who else?” Declan asked, heart beating fast in anticipation. McKenna hadn’t listed Keoni.

“That’s it.”

“What about Keoni?” Declan asked. Had he somehow missed McKenna saying his name?

“No.” Papers rattled in the background. “He’s not invited.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No. He’s not in.”

“There’s no Hawaiians in a Hawaiian event?” Declan asked, incredulous.

“There’s you. And Bobby.”

“We’re not Hawaiian!” Declan said, his voice choked with emotion.

“You were born there, right?”

“It’s not the same!”

Declan had agreed to compete partly because he believed Keoni would be there. He should have asked to hear the contestants before saying yes. He might not have agreed. But what about Pearl? He’d needed to use the contest as leverage for Pearl.

“Don’t worry about Keoni,” McKenna said, unconcerned. “He’ll get picked up one of these days.”

Declan paced back to the nightstand and slammed down the phone before he was tempted to cuss McKenna. There was nothing left to say. He’d made his commitment, and Pearl’s career hung on his decision.

He needed a drink.

He walked across the room to the bar and grabbed a tiny bottle of vodka from the counter. Vodka wasn’t his drink of choice, but it would do in a jam. It would burn away his troubles for a little while. It would erase the fear of going home.

Unscrewing the cap, he brought the bottle to his lips. The sharp smell of the liquor made his nostrils flare and his eyes sting with tears.

In his head, he heard Keoni’s voice telling him to pull himself together. He heard the grind and crunch of metal as he wrecked his Stingray. He smelled the burn of rubber and felt his heart lodge in his throat.

He dropped the bottle. Vodka spilled out onto the plush carpet, leaving a stain that reminded him of his wasted life. Declan turned to the bar and swept his arm across the counter knocking the bottles that tempted him to the floor. He knew it was going to cost a fortune on his bill, but he didn’t care.

He wanted a drink so badly that his body shook with need, but he didn’t take one. He took a deep breath instead, just like they’d taught him in rehab.

One more day to two hundred and fifty.

He exhaled slowly thinking the deep breathing exercises didn’t work for shit. The only time Declan wasn’t thinking about drinking was when he was surfing, or when he was asleep. No. There was another activity to add to the list: when he was with Pearl. He hadn’t thought about drinking at all when he was with Pearl.

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