Page 69 of Prime Time Romance

“Well, if Luce doesn’t have her name on that sign-up sheet by the end of the meeting today, she can’t enter the pageant. I just created a small problem that would require her immediate attention. And I doubt anyone will sign her up on her behalf.” She brushes her hands together. “Problem solved.”

She reaches out and plucks the purple blossom from behind my ear, crushing it in her fist before letting the petals fall to the floor. “I do wish you’d found some time to change though.” She sighs loudly. “Oh well, there isn’t much we can do about it now, is there?”

She steps out from behind the whiteboard before I have a chance to respond, leaving me on my own to find a seat in one of the many rows of aluminum chairs.

The town hall is packed. It feels like every unmarried woman in Carson’s Cove is in attendance.

Everyone but Luce.

“Okay, ladies, let’s get this show on the road.”

In the brief minutes since I left her, Poppy has found a megaphone. The natural shrillness of her voice, amplified by fifty watts, is enough to have everyone scrambling into their seats.

“We have a lot to cover today.”

A PowerPoint presentation appears on the screen behind Poppy. It features a picture of her in her Ms. Lobsterfest crown and sash. It’s from her very first win at the age of sixteen. I recognize the midnight-blue sequined dress.

“Ladies.” Poppy has dropped the megaphone, and her natural speaking voice carries easily through the now-quiet hall. “This is the seventy-fifth anniversary of the Ms. Lobsterfest pageant. And you know what that means? It means that this pageant needs to be everything this town stands for: beauty, perfection, meticulous attention to detail. Everything must be executed absolutely flawlessly. There can be no mistakes.”

Poppy continues to talk.

My stomach starts to churn, as if I’ve swallowed something bad.

I look at the women on my left and right. They are laser-focused on Poppy and every word that’s coming out of her mouth, nodding along as she lays out what she expects of each and every one of us.

I remember loving the pageant episodes. The gowns. The drama. Seeing the characters transformed from their regular everyday selves into glamorous beauty queens. But as I sit here, listening to it all, it suddenly feels different. Maybe I’m older or wiser. Maybe the outside world has evolved so much that now this pageant feels dated and icky. Or maybe it always was, and I never really noticed.

“I will be passing around the sign-up sheets now.” Poppy nods to Lois, who hands a clipboard out to each side of the room.

“If your name is not on this list by the end of this meeting, you will not be able to participate in the pageant. No exceptions.” Poppy’s eyes shoot to something at the back of the room.

I follow her gaze. She’s looking at the door. No one is there.

The churning in my stomach starts to bubble up. Higher and higher it climbs, burning my lungs and crawling its way up to my throat.

I think I’m going to be sick.

“Here you go, Sloan.” The woman to my left, a younger brunette I don’t recognize, passes me a clipboard just as the woman to my right does the same. I have two lists of names in my hands.

I scrawl Sloan’s signature on one of them, sealing my own fate.

I will win this pageant.

Spencer will see me as more than just the girl next door.

Things will turn out exactly as they’re supposed to.

This will be my ticket home. Josh’s too.

However, just as I’m about to pass the clipboards back to the front, I notice a blank space on the other list.

It’s stark and it’s white. A reminder of something missing.

Someone missing.

My pen lingers above the page.

Poppy may never forgive Sloan for what I’m about to do.