Madison’s smile turns slightly condescending. “Well, yes. But you also don’t want to come off as desperate.” She gives a pointed look across the room, where there’s a girl wearing a long, braided Rapunzel wig, most of which she’s now carrying in her arms like a giant hairball. “Her name’s Carline. She made some joke about wanting to make it easy for him to enter her tower.”
Still better than the apple, I think.
The brunette looks at Rapunzel (er, Carline) and then back at us. “Like, the DallianceTower?”
Ah, yes.The DallianceTower. Near the end of the show, the three remaining women will each get a chance to have an overnight date with the prince without cameras. With a big bed and lots of wine, I imagine.
Madison gives her a flat look and opens her mouth to say something, but suddenly the swell of chatter dies again, and I find myself looking back at the entryway along with everyone else.
Shit. I’ve become part of the multi-headed beast. How did that happen so quickly?
We all regard the next girl to arrive. She’s another blond (yes, there are about twenty of us) who looks like Kate Upton. She’s wearing a two-piece blue and gold gown with a bare midriff. She also doesn’t seem nearly as taken aback by the stares, smiling calmly as she strides into the room.
“Hell, no,” Madison mutters, then takes a long swig of champagne.
“Who’s that?” Brunette asks, eyes still wide. Maybe they’re always that way.
“Just some girl from the pageant circuit,” Madison says. “Miss Vermont. Which is barely even a state.” She waves a dismissive hand.Then her expression turns falsely bright when Miss Vermont looks over at us from across the room. “Addison, hi!”
“Madison!” the other girl says with equally fake brightness.They give each other a very stiff hug, which the nearby cameramen are soaking up. Clearly they already knew about this feud in the making.
“I’m Daisy, by the way,” the brunette says.
I smile. She, at least, seems nice enough. “Becca.”
“Are you a pageant girl, too?” She bites her lower lip.
I shake my head. “No. I’m a mom to two girls, and I’m going to school for—”
“Oh my god, you’re a mom?” she gushes. “That’s my biggest dream, to be a mom. When I’m way older, like you.”
I can practically feel the camera start to zoom in on my reaction. Which is mostly surprise that it took so long to be called out as the old one.Though I don’t love that she knew this just by my looks. “Makes sense,” I say evenly.
“I mean, I’m only twenty-one. Way too young to be a mom, you know?”
I shrug. “I had my first daughter when I was twenty-one.”
She gapes.Then another girl enters, and once again, we all look over. It’s like some weird compulsion.
“I’m going to go get a drink,” I say once the silent beat of room-wide judgment has passed. “Nice to meet you, Daisy.”
She’s no longer paying attention to me, having turned to squeal in appreciation of some other girl’s massive, lace-covered hoop skirt.
I find myself scanning for Nate around the edges of the room, where most of the crew (cameramen aside) seem to be hovering—staying out of the way of the clumps of girls forming and re-forming amidst quiet chatter and nervous, already intoxicated-sounding giggles.
I still don’t see him, but my saying I needed a drink appears to have summoned a producer out of thin air, a tablet in her hand and headset mic over her ear. “The bar’s set up right over there,” she says with a genial smile, and I remember Nate talking about how eager the producers would be to get us to drink.
I’ll have to pace myself. I don’t want to doze off during the tiara ceremony.
Another girl arrives while I find the bar and the apparently never-ending flutes of champagne.The bar is actually a huge, granite, wrap-around counter that is part of an enormous, state-of-the art kitchen that I find way more exciting than any Vegas-inspired ballroom. We’ll be making our own food while we’re here, and I’m thrilled to check out all the amenities for myself. I grin at the thought of making some muffins and giving Nate half of one.
On the counter at the back of the kitchen there’s a bunch of production equipment, but I’m far more interested in the stainless steel, industrial-sized fridge, wondering if anyone would freak out if I took a peek inside. Before I make a call on that, I finally see Nate in the doorway of a room across the hall from the massive kitchen. My heart picks up, even though he’s facing back into the room.Through the open double doors, I can see a posh burgundy chair in front of a decorative screen.There’s a crew member in there adjusting a light stand. An interview room, I assume.
Then Nate turns and walks into the hallway, and just as I start to wave to get his attention, a gorgeous redhead in a fluffy gown with a very low-cut neckline comes out of the room behind him. She grins and says something and he laughs just as warmly as he did with me. My hand drops down, my gut tying itself into a little knot. I take a swig of champagne, feeling the bubbles fizz down my throat.
Nate’s a friendly guy. A genuinely nice guy who’s good at making people feel comfortable. Happy.Talkative.
A guy who is goodat his job. I need to remember that’s all this is to him.
