I considered running in the opposite direction but noticed the other ladies watching with curiosity. I wondered if they knew I was DeeDee’s niece, if they were judging me as much as I was trying not to judge them. Regardless, it seemed that if I was friendly with Savilla then they wanted to know me. The connection alone could serve me well this week.
“Ladies, this is Dakota Green,” Savilla said, showing me off. “She’s a top contestant this year, comes from a geriatrical line of queens. Her great-grandmother and aunt were winners.”
“I think you meanmatriarchal,” I said quietly, so as not to embarrass her.
“You’re hilarious,” Savilla said in response. “But those winners… they are old now, aren’t they?” She blinked innocently enough.
I supposed she was right: Aunt DeeDee was in her sixties and my great-grandmother would have been close to a hundred and thirty now. Touché.
The first woman, Jemma Jenkins, smoothed her platinum-blond hair and looked me up and down with her steely blue eyes as if sizing up the competition. She didn’t seem to recognize me from earlier, even though I must have still looked like the help in her eyes.
“Dakota Green, this is Jemma Jenkins. She’s an aspiring actress, lives in New York,” Savilla continued. “She’s been in two off-Broadway shows and is trying out for a much-anticipated musical in a few weeks. It’sHamiltonmeetsCats. Very nouveau art.”
Very.
“Charmed, I’m sure.” Jemma put out a hand and offered a strained smile.
“And this is Summer Patel,” Savilla said, motioning to a woman with dark brown hair, cut and highlighted to perfectly frame her face. Her hat was red and wide-brimmed with a giant bow stuck on the back. “She’s a kindergarten teacher, and this is her third year competing.”
A kindergarten teacher was a surprising occupation for this crew, who I’d assumed either had pretend jobs—artiste, actor, writer—or lived off of family money. But going to work every day surrounded by little people with sticky hands and runny noses was real work. I was impressed.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to meet you,” Summer said. There was a sweetness in her manner that I hadn’t expected from a pageant contestant. She pulled me into a big hug and I could smell hints of vanilla and cinnamon on her, as if she’d just stepped away from baking cookies. I could easily imagine this lady in Circle Time surrounded by adoring five-year-olds. “You look so much like DeeDee that I would know youanywhere. She’s my unofficial mentor, the person I want to be when I grow up.”
Wow. That was some adoration. I knew Aunt DeeDee had made a name for herself in Aubergine, but I had no idea that contestants from all over the Eastern Seaboard were so bewitched by her.
“Please let me know if you need anything. I’ve done a dozen pageants. I can give you tips or help you with your look or… whatever!” Summer practically squealed this last sentence before adding, “I have peppermint tea bags in my room.”
“Thanks?” I responded, wondering why she was inviting me for a tea party.
Jemma enlightened me with a smirk. “For the bags under your eyes.”
I rubbed at the corner of my eye. Who knew so many things could be wrong with a face?
“You should really try a darker shade of lipstick too,” Summer suggested, so kindly that I couldn’t be offended. “It will make your mouth appear fuller.”
I didn’t mention that I wasn’t wearing any and instead forced the corners of my mouth into my best imitation of excitement to be there.
Jemma frowned. “Is your mouth okay?”
That’s what I got for trying.
“Ladies, ladies,” a familiar voice echoed from the stage. I turned to see Lacy speaking into a microphone, her voice and posture authoritative. She’d changed into her navy blue Dior suit and five-inch pointed heels. “You all look fabulous.”
The ladies trilled.
“One quick note: We can’t seem to locate our MC for all things pageant, so if you see her, direct her to me. I’m sure we’ll find her soon.” She tapped the microphone. “DeeDee… Deanna Green, if you can hear me, please report to the ballroom.” Lacy’seyes landed on me as if she thought I would know where my aunt might be.
I waved my phone to signal that she wasn’t answering my calls.
“I saw her leaving the Color Gallery with a bag when I first arrived,” Jemma said, leaning toward me just enough to plant a question in my mind. “Dr. Bellingham was with her, and he didn’t seem happy.”
I tried to ignore her.
Lacy spoke into the mic again. “Regardless, it’s good to see all of you in your finest regalia at this hundredth year of the pageant.” She spoke with ease, smoothing away any awkwardness created by the absence of the official master of ceremonies and the intrusion of a police presence.
Whoops and cheers went up around the room, and Lacy smiled without her usual smirk.
“I hate to get down to logistics right away—and I promise a fun bonding activity, courtesy of Savilla Finch, is coming soon—but our first order of business is announcements, before we put everyone in proper order and run through the choreography for our pageant song that we’ll perform on this very stage Saturday night. Hopefully you all received the choreography in your welcome packet via email two months ago.”
