Page 54 of The Accidental Beauty Queen
I’m also convinced that she can sense what I’ve done—that it’s somehow written all over my face. Is there a facial expression that saysI’ve been making out with the pageant judge in the ice closet?Because if there is, I’m surely rocking it right now.
Fortunately, before I can spew any more nonsense, the pageant production assistant in the sparkly Miss American Treasure jacket is back, wielding her ubiquitous clipboard. “Ladies, find your places backstage please. We’re starting in ten.”
I’m grateful for the respite from the awkward conversation, even if it means Buttercup and I are within minutes of our performance. Torrie drops the subject of Gray immediately and begins going over her contemporary dance number in her head, counting to herself as we head backstage.
We line up in the wings, again in alphabetical order according to state. The production assistant runs back and forth, checking things off on her clipboard. Unlike the swimsuit competition the day before, there’s no happy chatter backstage. Every contestant is in her own little world, mentally rehearsing for her performance.
Good idea.
I plop Buttercup down on the floor, and she gazes up at me, wide-eyed. I give her the hand signal for sit—the one we’ve been practicing for hours.
She doesn’t budge.
A flare of panic seizes me.
I try the command again. Still, nothing.
What’s happening? Is it possible we’ve overrehearsed? I try the hand signal three more times and finally, Buttercup sits. I choose to believe she was suffering a little stage fright and she’s finally had a breakthrough. The more obvious explanation is that she simply got tired of standing, but I can’t allow my mind to go there.
I’m afraid to attempt anything else. We’re running out of time anyway. Four contestants ran through their numbers in the span of time it took for Buttercup to sit. Awesome.
I crouch down beside the dog and remove her Miss American Treasure tank top. Ginny would have my head if she could see me. I’ve officially veered from the preapproved plan and implemented my own. I’ve gone rogue. But hey, I’m Jason Bourne. Everything will be fine.
God, I hope it will.
I rummage through my tote bag for the other things I need. After I’ve put Buttercup in her new costume and tucked my prop under my arm, I consider Ginny’s phone. Should I ask someone to record our routine or not?
The announcer’s voice booms over the loudspeaker. “Please welcome Miss Tennessee to the stage.”
Things are happening at warp speed. It’s already Torrie’s turn. I give her a quick hug for good luck and shove Ginny’s phone back into my bag.
Torrie’s dance is impressive. Then again, I’m impressed by all the performances, since the only thing I can manage to dredge up is a silly routine with a dog. She stumbles out of one of her turns, and for a split second her smile falters. But it’s back in an instant, and she maintains her eye contact with the judges until her final step. The way she’s staring at them is almost aggressive, as if she’s daring them to give her a bad score.
My stomach flips. There’s no way I can maintain that kind of brash confidence.
“Thank you, Miss Tennessee. And now let’s have a round of applause for Miss Texas!”
It’s time.
I cast a final glance at Buttercup and shoot her an encouraging smile, then we walk to the center of the stage. Buttercup bobs happily at the end of her leash while I concentrate on not face-planting in my stilettos.
Once we’re in position, I glance up to find the judging panel watching us with blatant curiosity in their eyes. I paste on a beauty queen grin.
Don’t look at him. Don’t look at Gray.
I can’t help it. I look.
His expression is guarded. When our eyes meet, the corner of his mouth twitches, like he’s trying not to smile.
Instantly, I start to sweat.
How am I going to get through this?
I stand, paralyzed, for a full second. I can practically hear the clock ticking in my head. Eighty-nine... eighty-eight...
I clear my throat. “I’m Miss Texas, and this is my assistant, Fang.”
A few of the judges snicker. Gray doesn’t, but he smiles so broadly it lights up the room... along with my heart.
