He parked the truck in the hotel lot and walked his surfboard back to his trailer in the pit, the area set up for competitors and their equipment. The sandy beach-access parking had been blocked off and was a maze of trailers, trucks, and tents. The fifth round of the competition hadn’t begun yet, but surfers, spectators, and vendors were starting to set up and ready themselves. The aroma of Hawaiian Bar-B-Q—smoke and citrus—wafted through the air, mingling with the salty ocean air. Drew’s manager, Roger, had left a sticky-note on one of the boards at eye level in the trailer. Need to talk to you.
Drew walked back to the hotel and went up to his room. He showered, letting the hot water run over his skin and stayed under the steamy spray until his fingers and toes started to prune, which w
