A Tiara Under The Tree. Carolyn Hector

A Tiara Under The Tree - Carolyn  Hector


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of her head. “They’re getting worse,” she said to Kenzie, who nodded.

      Maybe that’s what Waverly tried to show him last night. Dominic held his hand up. “Look, I’ve worked on cars my whole life. I can take one look at a piece of metal that’s been through the wringer and recreate it as a beautiful piece of art. I don’t need to see where Waverly came from. I know what I see now. I don’t need any memes.”

      “Are you comparing Waverly to a hunk of junk?” Kenzie asked.

      “Not at all.” Dominic chuckled. She was beyond just beautiful. She was captivating and breathtaking. “Whatever happened in her past, I will restore justice.”

      Lexi offered Dominic a sweet smile, almost motherly. “And for that, I can’t be any more grateful, which is why I need to step down, to make sure no one can question Waverly’s victorious return to the crown.”

      While the three of them agreed their main focus was on Waverly, Alisha stood in her doorway, Hamilton in her arms. “Wait, am I to understand you’re doing this for someone other than Tiffani?”

      “This is for Waverly,” Dominic said.

      “Who the hell is Waverly?” Alisha asked. Anger filled her cheeks with a red tint. He knew he was in for a cursing out. Dominic glanced up at the dark oak ceiling to avoid her wrath.

      “I am.”

      Alisha turned. Lexi and Kenzie squealed. Without thinking, Dominic’s hand clutched his heart when he saw her standing behind Alisha. She wore her hair in a ball at the top of her head, no makeup and a tan turtleneck paired with what looked like a pair of denim overalls. Waverly glared at him with her dark eyes. If looks could kill...

      “I’ve seen you around,” Alisha said. “I didn’t realize you and my brother were friends.”

      Waverly blinked and glanced at everyone in the living room. “Apparently your brother has a lot of friends these days. Lexi? Kenzie? What’s going on in here?”

      “Surprise!” Lexi cheered, followed by Kenzie pumping her fist in the air.

       Chapter 3

      A sticky, sweet smell of hair spray hugged the air behind the backstage curtains of the Miss Southwood Beauty Pageant, masking the stench of fear as well as envy. Waverly sat in her black swivel chair as her makeup artist, Titus, applied a fresh layer of foundation on her face, hopefully covering the embarrassment of the last five days of pure pageant torment since she’d entered.

      The moment Waverly arrived at the Magnolia Palace, where the pageant would take place, she knew Tiffani had abandoned her. Tiffani took one look at her and Waverly knew not to step foot in The Cupcakery for a while. It was clear to Waverly from the beginning that no one appreciated her being there. So much for the friendly Southern hospitality she had grown used to.

      On the first day of rehearsals, she’d been accidently tripped by a girl who claimed to be a virgin stiletto walker. The women Waverly practiced the opening number with told her to go in the wrong direction, so Waverly ended up bumping into everyone when they all gathered together. The dance instructor and director of the pageant talent team at Grits and Glam Studios, Chantal Hairston, took mercy on her and gave Waverly a few pointers—which didn’t help the camaraderie from the contestant girls. Waverly tried to remember her cause. For everyone else, this was just a title and a crown to wear around town. For Waverly, this was her last shot at staying on task for her lifelong dream at a shot of becoming Miss Georgia. Pageanting was the only thing she knew how to do.

      As the pageant neared its end, at the head of the pack were Tiffani, a girl from the teen division and Waverly. Waverly steadied her breathing. Surprisingly, she made it through the top five—beating the odds stacked against her. Not only did Waverly lack support from the other contestants, but she didn’t have any fans with the judges, either. At least not with one. The current Miss South Georgia, Lexi’s successor had been a thorn in Waverly’s side for as long as she could remember. Before opening Grits and Glam Gowns, Lexi had worked as a private pageant coach for Vera Laing. As children, Waverly and Vera often competed for the same crowns. Waverly always got the win. Waverly blew out the nervousness in the pit of her stomach.

      “You all right, chérie?” Titus asked. Her makeup artist stood at least six feet five inches tall and towered over her in the chair.

      “I’m good,” Waverly lied. “How are you doing? I heard a lot is at stake for you.”

      Titus pressed his lips together, took a step backward and kissed his fingers. “Girl, it’s more than just a stake. My job is on the line.” He leaned closer, nodded and whispered, “Against that heifer right there.”

      Ravens Cosmetics, one of the longest-running black-owned cosmetic companies catering to women of color, sponsored the event. This year the executives decided to take the opportunity during the pageant to choose their next employee. Titus and the other makeup artists vied for the creative design director position. Titus’s work on Waverly had got her this far. There was one other person giving him competition. The renowned makeup artist Zoe Baldwin worked on Tiffani’s touch-up. Titus was equally talented. Waverly just had a penchant for anything eighties and Zoe’s makeup brought back a lot of the bright colors. Titus and Waverly looked over at Zoe’s station. Tension hung in the air. Thankfully the lights dimmed.

      No matter how many pageants, sashes and titles she won, nervousness washed over her. All it took was for someone to not like her dramatic eye makeup or the song she sang or the way her body jiggled after weeks of a steady diet of pizza, beer and cupcakes. Waverly’s heart raced. Why did she bother entering? Was she so desperate to get the Miss Georgia crown?

      “Next time I see you,” said Titus, helping Waverly to her feet, “you’ll have the Miss Southwood tiara on your head.”

      “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Waverly said with a weak smile. She gathered the hem of her buttercup-yellow gown—not designed by Lexi. The deep V-neck might be the reason she lost. In the past she’d won only with a Grits and Glam gown.

      Panic set in again. Waverly lined up behind the curtain with Tiffani and the other girl. Surprisingly, Tiffani reached for Waverly’s hand and gave it a squeeze. The crowd clapped when they took the stage. Waverly glanced into the crowd out of habit for her mother. Jillian didn’t even know she’d entered. Bright lights blinded her. Did Lexi show? Was anyone out there cheering for her?

      Consumed with doubt and fear, Waverly moved on autopilot. She smiled and answered her questions. Even though she couldn’t see them, Waverly felt Vera’s daggers. Knowing the hatred her nemesis had for her motivated Waverly. The judges narrowed their choices, and then there were two—Tiffani and Waverly. Standing close together, Waverly and Tiffani held hands again. She searched the crowd for the spot where she last spotted Dominic. His smile and gentle, encouraging nod calmed her soul.

      “No matter what happens,” Tiffani whispered, “I am kinda glad to be standing next to you.”

      Waverly blinked back a threatening tear. “Tiffani, I am really sorry for the way things turned out. I don’t want you to think I underhanded you.”

      “I don’t,” Tiffani said with a toothy smile. “At least, not anymore. Being up here with you means I am with the best of the best.”

      “Ladies and gentlemen,” the emcee announced into a silver microphone, “it is now time to present to you the second runner-up, Miss Frosting. Congratulations, Tiffani.”

      The crowd erupted into what Waverly deciphered as cheers. Tiffani hugged Waverly’s neck, then stepped backward for Waverly to take her walk to the front of the stage. The former Miss Southwood placed a seven-inch, diamond tiara on top of Waverly’s head. Welcome to the family, she said silently to the tiara. With her head held high she walked forward on the stage, blowing kisses and mouthing “thank you” to the judges. The triumphant walk refueled her dreams of Miss Georgia.

      Titus


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