Page 29 of Try Me

Breakfast with the Competition

Pearl

Pearl woke in a panic,feeling disoriented and confused. Peeling back the covers, she saw that she was still wearing the checked minidress she’d worn on the plane.

Groaning, she remembered waking up with her head in Declan’s lap. She’d probably drooled on his expensive pants. Then she’d fallen asleep in the car and been too tired to walk to her room. Declan had to carry her. As the events flashed through her mind, Pearl pulled the covers over her head, wishing she could disappear.

Declan Bishop had put her to bed.

He’d helped her with her shoes.

He’d tucked her under the covers.

She wanted to die of embarrassment.

She flung the covers off and stood up. The good thing was she felt refreshed, as if she’d slept for an entire day straight. Even better, she didn’t remember much of the flight. She was terrified of flying so much that she’d risked taking the pill Jenny had given her in order to endure the flight.

She owed Declan Bishop an apology, and a thank-you. If he hadn’t been there, what could have happened?

Pearl threw off the covers and walked to the window. The sun was just beginning to rise, but most of the yellow orb was blocked by the brown ridge of Diamond Head Crater to the east. Only a sliver of sunlight broke across the horizon in an explosion of pink and gold.

Good thing she’d woken early. She was going to join Declan for his morning jog. Nate listed daily runs on Declan’s itinerary, and Pearl wasn’t going to slack off on her job. She’d made a mess of things yesterday, but it wasn’t too late to set things right.

In the lobby, Pearl chose a seat under the tiered chandelier, so she could see the elevators. She was determined not to miss Declan. A half hour later, her growling stomach reminded her that she had skipped dinner last night. The hotel restaurant was only a few feet away, and the smell of coffee teased the air. Pearl tried to ignore the lure of the rich aroma, but it was no use. She gave in and walked over to the restaurant.

She requested a seat facing the lobby so she could keep an eye out for Declan. The thought of seeing him again set her nerves on edge. Glancing around the restaurant, she saw a few faces she recognized from the surfing industry, and she wondered if any of the women were fellow contestants in the exhibition.

She smiled at Reno Morales, a surfer from Central America, sitting a few tables to her left. Reno smiled back, then he got up from his seat and walked over to her table.

Reno Morales was tall and lanky with skin the color of her creamy coffee and light brown eyes. Reno was what they called hapa in Hawaii — mixed race, like her.

“You are Pearl Sunn, no?”

“Yes,” she said. “How did you know?”

Reno showed her the newspaper he’d been reading. Pearl read the headline: Surfing Royalty Arrives for the Duke.

The black-and-white photograph showed Declan Bishop climbing up the steps of the Royal Hawaiian with Pearl tucked under his arm.

The color drained from Pearl’s face as she scanned the article. She hadn’t expected to be photographed so soon. She looked a mess in the photo, as if she’d just tumbled out of bed, and Declan wore a smug smile as if he’d just helped her out of it.

“You okay?” Reno asked in his accented English. “You look…” He paused. Searching for the word he gestured at his face. “Muy blanca.”

Pearl took pity on his attempt to bridge the language gap. “Estoy bien,” she said.

Reno’s face lit up. “Tu hablas español?”

Pearl nodded and asked in Spanish if he would like to join her. Reno’s face brightened again. Then his eyes fell on the newspaper picture of Declan Bishop carrying Pearl into the hotel. He quirked an eyebrow, then asked about her boyfriend.

Pearl shook her head and pointed at the seat. “Por favor,” she said.

Reno grabbed his unfinished plate of pancakes and took the seat opposite her, then launched into a conversation in rapid Spanish. Pearl had first learned Spanish when she’d lived in Maui as a child. Their nearest neighbors had originally come to Hawaii from South America, and they still spoke predominately Spanish. Pearl had grown up riding the bus with Maria Herrera, and had learned the language easily. Her aptitude for languages had been her mother’s first clue that she wasn’t dealing with an ordinary child.

Reno’s dialect made it hard for Pearl to understand everything he said, but they were able to hold a conversation. Reno was sweet. He laughed good-naturedly when Pearl mispronounced words or used the wrong tense in her rusty Spanish.

It turned out that Reno had met Pearl’s mother. He was from a long line of watermen, and his father was a famous boat builder in Costa Rica. When Reno was young, he’d accompanied his father on a sailing trip around the Hawaiian Islands. They’d seen a surfing competition in Makaha. Pearl’s mother had won the women’s division.

Reno confided that it had been Sohayla Sunn who had inspired him to surf. He had been obsessed with the sport ever since meeting her. Reno lowered his voice and leaned across the table.

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