Page 7 of Try Me

Worthy of the Big Screen

Pearl

Pearl’s feetthrobbed in the three-inch stilettos, and her shift had only begun. Midnight would come and go before she could be rid of these shoes. Sliding up to the bar, she set her tray down in front of Jerry and watched as he refilled the shot glasses with Kinsling Vodka. She wondered how many liters of vodka Kinsling gave away at these events. Judging by the level of inebriation of the crowd, it must be in the hundreds.

While the victors of the contest took the stage to collect their winnings, Pearl slid her foot out of her shoe and wiggled her toes. No one was paying any attention to her at the moment. All eyes were glued to the stage.

After casting a glance around the audience to make sure no one was looking her way, Pearl reached down and massaged her foot.

“Busted,” Peggy said, coming up beside her.

“Shh,” Pearl warned, scooting her tray over so Peggy could set hers down.

Jerry raised an eyebrow at them as he continued pouring vodka into the shot glasses. “You ladies want a foot rub?” he asked. “I’m pretty good.”

“I’m sure you are,” Pearl said. Jerry had big hands and heavily muscled arms. She could only imagine the heaven a massage might bring.

Jerry gave her a broad wink, whistling as he finished his job.

On stage, Declan Bishop strode up to the microphone to give his winner’s speech. He shook hands with the contest director, then grabbed the microphone and flashed a confident grin at the audience.

“Good Lord,” Peggy sighed, fanning her face with a napkin. “I think he just got me pregnant.”

Pearl laughed at Peggy’s dramatic reaction. She had to agree, Declan was impressive. And Pearl wasn’t easily impressed. She’d grown up in Hawaii in the company of some of the best surfers in the world, and she humbly considered herself one of them. Pearl knew all about surfing talent, and Declan had it in spades.

Known for his fearless decisions on the waves, Declan never disappointed his audience. Half of the crowd had come to Huntington Beach for the championships just to see what Declan Bishop would do. Pearl had been working the event, parading around in a bikini while offering cigarettes to the spectators, but she’d managed to watch Declan’s entire heat.

She’d seen surfing her whole life. She’d learned to balance on a surfboard before she’d learned to straddle a bike, but she’d never seen anyone surf like Declan Bishop.

“Did you see he brought Claudia Montgomery tonight?” Peggy asked.

Pearl shook her head. She didn’t care who Declan dated, she only cared about watching him on the waves.

She shoved her foot back into her shoe as Declan cleared his throat and began his speech. He thanked the other contestants and the sponsors, then said something funny to make the audience laugh. Pearl thought he was better on the water than he was on the stage, but couldn’t deny that he cut a fine figure in his tailored suit.

His words were spoken with little heart, as if he was reciting lines he’d memorized. Pearl wondered how many times Declan had given the same speech. He’d won so many contests lately, it must be hard to come up with new material.

“He’s on a winning streak,” Pearl said.

Jerry looked up from his task to glare at the stage. His lip curled, and he shook his head. “Don’t seem right,” he confessed.

Pearl raised an eyebrow at Jerry. “What do you mean? You don’t think he should have won?”

With a shrug, Jerry glanced around the crowd. “It just don’t seem right,” he said.

“Why not?” Pearl asked. “He was amazing. He scored three tubes on one wave in the final heat. Do you know how hard that is to accomplish?”

Jerry shrugged, busying himself with the glasses behind the bar. “I don’t know nothing about surfing,” he said.

Pearl narrowed her eyes at Jerry. “Why doesn’t it seem right?” she asked.

Jerry glanced up at her, then leaned closer so no one else could hear. “Look at the bunch of them,” he said, nodding at the crowd of surfers. “What do you see?”

Pearl snorted. “A bunch of drunk surfers,” she said.

“A bunch of drunk white surfers,” Jerry corrected. “You see anyone with skin like yours? Or mine?” he asked.

Pearl surveyed the crowd knowing that Jerry was right. The best surfers in the United States had been invited to compete at the event, but every man in the room had something in common besides being young and athletic. They were all white.

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