Page 1 of Miss Christmas

Chapter 1

Scarlet Jones was not having a great day. She tugged at the too-tight apron that had her oversize chesticles gasping for breath. Swiping the wet cloth across the luncheonette counter, she frowned at her friend Deirdre Howell—Dee—who sat on a stool waiting for her to finish work for the day.

“You heard from your agent?” Dee asked. She was for some unaccountable reason Scarlet’s best friend in the city, probably by default since they lived together.

“Sure. Want to guess what he said?”

“Just tell me. Did you get the part?”

Scarlet lodged her hands on her hips, wet cloth and all. “I’ll give you a hint. Vegas bookies have my chances of getting a role in a Broadway play handicapped at slightly below the chance of pigs flying over Manhattan in a bathtub.”

She returned to wiping the lunch counter. Imagining her agent’s face, she slapped a plastic menu-placemat down. Hard. When the relentlessly cheerful bells hanging from the luncheonette door jingled, she didn’t bother looking up. Must be another shopper from Regal’s Department store across the street stopping in late.

Her BFF twisted her mouth into something like a smile and Scarlet wondered again why they were best friends.

“I believe in you, Scar.”

Ah. That must be it. They stood by each other in the mosh-pit world of would-be actresses trying to make it in the Big Apple. They’d had each other’s backs ever since they’d met on their first casting call, both fresh off the bus from hick-town, USA. They shared a spectacular compartment labeled a studio apartment by realtors in Brooklyn and ten months after they’d moved in they were still paying the rent any way they could. Dee hung around the diner whenever she was between auditions and then at the end of the day so they could take the train back to their hovel together.

“Stop calling me Scar. Makes it sound like you’re lining me up for a slasher movie—for the part of the slasher.”

This time Dee laughed. “You’re definitely not the slasher type. More like the helpless-but-sexy slashee. But don’t worry, you might win the Miss Christmas pageant. That’ll add a punch to your resume. It’s guaranteed to get you noticed.”

“You’re right. Winning the Regal Department Store Miss Christmas Pageant will really make me stand out among the cover girls and runway models at every audition—who, by the way, aren’t bothering to enter a contest for a measly ten large, because they make that in a week.”

“You have anything else lined up?”

Asked by anyone else it would have been sarcasm, but not so with Dee. Which meant Scarlet found it necessary to make up for the lack.

“You mean besides my convincing gig as a poor waitress in a divey luncheonette?”

Bernie, a municipal worker somewhere north of retirement age and a regular customer, spoke up from his nearby stool at the counter.

“Hey, watch that. Your boss hears that and he’ll fire you and then I’d have no more gorgeous dish to drool over at lunch.”

“Right. Because the dishes in here are barely edible, let alone drool-worthy.” She grinned at Bernie as she reached over and patted his baseball cap. “That’s for luck.”

“If you want my opinion,” Bernie said as he blushed. “I think you could win the pageant.”

She shrugged. “I suppose it’s the only shot I have at ten grand coming along between now and Christmas.” And it sure would be nice to be able to buy her mother a luxury vacation in New York City. She wouldn’t admit it to anyone even if they ripped her ruby-red fingernails out one by one, but she missed her mother. She wouldn’t have the time or money to see her mother or the rest of her extended family for Christmas—unless she won the pageant.

“It’ll be fun,” Dee said.

“Watch out, pageant world.” Scarlet took her friend’s hand and squeezed it. “I’m going to throw myself into this thing. Pull out all the stops.”

Before Dee did more than grin, the luncheonette door jingled again, though it was almost closing time. With a resigned sigh, Scarlet grabbed a plastic placemat and looked up with an annoyance-masking smile at the man who walked in.

Whatever happened next inside her she couldn’t say, but the boom nearly stopped her heart and then everything else she did and said was automatic.

A loud wolf whistle emanated from her lips as she stared at Mr. Handsome Stranger, who wore a mouthwatering grin.

“Where have you been all my life, baby?” She said the words with heartfelt meaning. He was big and muscled and wore a suit like barely contained dynamite.

The man laughed and took the seat in front of her, sandwiched between Bernie and Dee.

“Isn’t that supposed to be my line?” he said, eyes taking her in and gleaming with real interest.

Scarlet was about to dive into her flirtation with Mr. Mysterious Hunk when her phone rang.