Page 28 of Miss Christmas

“Sure I do, but the scent is all wrong for you. Honestly, I don’t think anyone is going to go around smelling you.”

Scarlet let out a sigh and rolled her eyes for effect. But she appreciated Dee’s calm right now as she pushed through the door to the alley to head to Regal’s. “Thanks, Dee.”

“I didn’t do anything.” Her friend’s puzzled response made her smile. She took Dee’s hand and dashed through the alley, pulling her along. She was lucky Manny let her have the rest of the day off since she’d let him know in advance. He’d called in his niece.

The contestants were allowed to take an assistant with them to help prep. But she was as ready as she could get given her circumstances. This half-assed effort wasn’t Scarlet’s usual style and it made her nervous, but juggling her job that she couldn’t afford to lose with the rushed schedule of the pageant had forced her to be practical. She’d rely on her other strengths. She’d need to be killer in the quick-on-her-feet category.

The contestants were allowed to take one assistant with them. They went in the employee entrance and up the elevator as instructed and were met on the executive floor.

“You’re cutting it close, Miss Jones. You’re the last one to arrive.” Scarlet recognized the woman as Fran, Will’s assistant. The woman smiled and took her by the arm.

“You almost sent me into a panic,” Fran said in a whisper. “I wouldn’t want to have to tell my boss you were a no-show.” The words disquieted her. Was Fran giving her special treatment? She didn’t have a chance to ask.

After Fran deposited her and Dee at the door to an oversized ladies’ room that was doubling as their dressing room, she and Dee squeezed in with the crowd.

“I’d say it’s a good thing I came dressed to this party.”

“Wow. Just wow,” Dee said as she looked around at the crowd of women in various stages of dress. Scarlet supposed they were an impressive group. She finessed her way to the mirror with a small shove here and there and managed to check her hair. The other women ignored her, each focusing on creating her own masterpiece of pageant beauty. Checking her watch, Scarlet realized there was only a minute left.

Fran came to the door with another woman who appeared to be very pregnant and they lined the contestants up in the hallway.

The gorgeous and perky pregnant lady introduced herself as Margo Regal.

“Congratulations on being chosen as finalists and welcome to the first part of Regal’s Miss Christmas pageant. Let’s start by having you each introduce yourselves. Tell us what you do and where you’re from.”

Scarlet was impressed and annoyed. This family was chock-full of pretty and gracious people. A person could very easily get intimidated if they didn’t maintain their confidence. Straightening her shoulders, Scarlet pushed her two confidence boosters to the forefront. Her mother had always told her to lead with her strengths. Scarlet, you have large breasts, no sense hiding them. Own them and never apologize for being who you are. They don’t define you, but they’re part of you, God-given gifts just like your brains, your heart, and your soul. She loved her mother and a pang whooshed through her, nearly making her buckle. But that wasn’t what her mother—or her late twin sister—would want.

She fought to channel the pret-ragedy version of herself, the confident, sure, grab-the-world-by-the-tail young woman she’d been. This was no time for buckling.

Margo pointed for the last woman in line to begin the introductions.

“I’m Emily Peters and I’m a publishing assistant. I moved here to the city after I graduated from Wellesley and I’m very grateful to be part of this pageant.”

Scarlet found Emily to be instantly likable, if bland. But she did have those classic blond looks and that understated elegance that reminded her of Regal’s itself. Shit. She felt her certainty about winning slip down a notch. Never mind. To hell with the odds. She was taking this risk and she was putting herself out there. They could take her or leave her.

Giving an extra push of her chest, she felt a pinch on her arm. It was Dee, standing behind her like the rest of the assistants. Smiling like she meant it, she was ready when the introductions got to her.

“I feel like I should salute.” She looked at Margo and Fran and was gratified with their chuckle. “I’m Scarlet Jones. I’m a struggling actress whose current role is playing a waitress at the diner across the street. Predictably, I’m recently from the Midwest and living in a studio in Brooklyn. With a roommate.” She turned, reached behind her, and slung an arm around Dee, forcing her into the lineup. “My BFF, Dee Howell, fellow struggling actress.”

Margo’s smile shone brightly, but Fran sported a smirk that Scarlet couldn’t quite read as good or bad. Did it matter? She hoped not. She was who she was. Though she was a big believer in karma and the last thing she wanted to do was not make a good impression on anyone from Regal’s. Besides, she liked Fran. She was Scarlet’s kind of girl. Feisty.

Once the introductions were over, they were each handed a sash with their names on it. Their assistants were told to help them slip their sashes on over their shoulders.

“Now we’re going to take you to what is normally the executive dining room,” Margo said, “but we’ve transformed it into the Regal pageant room to introduce you to the press.” Scarlet heard the obvious note of pride in her voice. She’d bet a month’s salary that Margo had married into the family. Her bouncy blond looks were nothing like Will’s dark good looks and that of the other Regal men and women she’d seen in the photos.

“Follow me,” Fran told them and led the way. Margo followed and nodded at Scarlet when she paraded by. Not one to be paranoid, she could swear she saw a twinkle in Margo’s eye, like she was singling Scarlet out. Scarlet took one look back at where they’d left the assistants and saw Dee give her the thumbs-up.

There is no favoritism here. There can’t be.

She wished to hell her admonitions would calm the burn of her conscience. There was no way any of these people knew about her and Will. He would never have told them, especially not after she’d made it clear she couldn’t stand the thought of winning that way. Still. Her conscience was as guilty as if she’d just thrown herself across the laps of all the judges and said Take me, I’m yours if I win.

The pageant hopefuls paraded into the room. Scarlet was near the end, number eight in the line. As they walked—or rather strutted—the small audience clapped, the photographers flashed their cameras, and Margo led them to a halt, front and center. The audience seemed to be all media as far as Scarlet could tell, but with her stage smile in place, she searched for a glimpse of Will.

Margo made her introductory speech and waved a hand as waitstaff magically appeared with refreshments, signaling for the pageanteers to go forth and mingle with the press. There was a television camera and crew to the right and a few of the women who claimed to be models flocked in that direction. Two men with tablets and a woman with a camera came her way. She had no idea what a pageant press conference was supposed to be like, but this looked like a free-for-all.

Maybe it would be fun.

She heard one woman giggle, contestant number four, Heather, who pointed at her. Instantly Scarlet knew she’d been singled out as the target for derision by the group. But since this wasn’t Survivor island and they didn’t have a vote in getting rid of her, she didn’t care. It was jealousy. She’d seen and heard it all before. Remembered high school cheerleading and Laura. It meant they’d pegged her for the favorite to win.