the store and saw a bigger-than-lifesize picture of Zeke, standing in board shorts right next to Dave Rastovich, Greg Long and Joel Parkinson: some of the best surfers in the world. The legends.
“And welcome to Florida. Y’all having a fun vacation?”
“Yeah, loving it,” I said, shaking his hand and trying my best to reflect his level of enthusiasm back at him. It had been pointed out to me that even when I wasn’t being sarcastic, something about the inflections of my voice made me sound as if I was.
“Sorry we’re late,” Zeke said. “We thought this was tomorrow. We’ll stay on a little to make up for it, if you need us to.”
“No need to apologize. We’re just stoked to have you visit our little store.”
Several members of the store staff were staring at us, but none of them came over.
“Is there a rep from Billabong here?” Zeke asked, looking around.
“Right this way. You need anything else before you get started? A soda or something?”
“Do you want something, Iris?” Zeke asked.
I shook my head.
“Then no, sir; we’re good to go.”
The photographer led us to the back of the store, past two junior male Billabong riders, and there, sitting at the back of the store, with her legs crossed and her red hair tied up in a glossy bun, was one of my favorite people on the planet.
“Saskia!” I said, rushing toward her. Zeke was right behind me.
Saskia was basically the reason I’d even made the tour, and I owed her everything.
“Iris!” she said, hugging me tight and sounding excited. “Took you long enough. I thought you weren’t going to show!”
“Had the wrong day. Why didn’t you tell us you were going to be here?”
“Wanted to surprise you. How are you, darling?”
“Good. I really missed you!”
“I can’t believe you’re here!” Zeke said. “We missed you so much.”
I stepped aside to let them embrace.
Tears that made no sense were pricking at my eyes, because I could feel it flowing through me sheer joy.
“So you’re working for Billabong since when?” Zeke asked.
“A few weeks. It’s only an internship, but it’s a start.”
“Congrats,” Zeke said. “Anders was so mad you ditched him.”
“I couldn’t stand being his PA for a minute longer. He’s turned into a right little fascist these past few months. I know he’s having personal troubles, but honestly, he was making my life a misery.”
“Personal troubles? Did you know that, Zeke?” I said.
“Yeah. Split up with his long-term girlfriend.”
Zeke knew Anders was going through something like that and didn’t tell me?
“You didn’t say anything.”
“It’s not really my place to talk about someone else’s personal life.”
The store manager came over and asked Zeke if he could start signing, since the people in the queue had already been waiting a while and were getting restless.
“Yeah, I’m so sorry. We just got caught up. I’ll be right there.”
They walked away together and I couldn’t help feeling a little bit embarrassed that the manager hadn’t asked me to go with them.
“I should get a move on too, although I’ll probably only have to sign one poster.”
“Don’t do yourself down. I had a look at your Twitter. Thirty thousand followers is absolutely not to be sniffed at.”
“I tweet some sick surf pics, so they’re probably following me for that . . . Anyway, congrats on the job. Stoked for you, mate.”
“No bugger wanted to sponsor me to surf, so at least this way I get to follow the tour. And even better, I’m going to be interviewing the surfers beachside for the webcast on Saturday. I’ll have to do you too so to speak.”
“Wow, cool job.”
“Not really. They’re not paying me, and I’m sorting out my own travel and hotels, so I suppose it hardly counts as a job at all.”
I winced. Saskia was working for free. Actually, worse than free. This internship must be costing her thousands in travel and board. She was from a wealthy