4 Pageant and Poison (3 page)

The next morning Bekki
arrived at the convention center where the pageant was being held. There were already plenty of cars in the parking lot. The first couple of days would be rehearsals as well as grooming of the contestants. Bekki opened the door to step inside and found a man in uniform standing beside it with a clipboard in his hand.

“Name?” he asked. Bekki was surprised to see such high security
.

“I'm a stylist for Rafael Alonzo,” Bekki began to explain, but before she could finish Rafael came walking up to her. He was dressed as flamboyantly as usual with a thick, white faux fur coat and huge, dark sunglasses framed by white, sparkling plastic. He wore tight, dark blue jeans and pointed, black dress shoes. His main goal was never to conform, and he was very successful at it.

“Bekki, Bekki, Bekki, look at you!” he said with a disappointed shake of his head. Bekki grimaced as she knew that her department store dress was not something he approved of. But she
hadn’t felt like digging out her designer clothes from the back of her closet. Besides, not having them with her meant she had even more of an excuse to go shopping.

“Relax, I'm going to find some new clothes later,” Bekki laughed lightly. She had learned never to take Rafael's insults too seriously.

“Well, I guess I'll just have to tolerate the tackiness for today,” Rafael sighed dramatically. “Hurry up now, there's a lot going on,” he called out as he led her down the hallway to the main staging area. What looked like a normal convention center was transformed when she stepped backstage.

All the glitz and glamor of the pageant, from the sparkle of the ever present glitter in gowns, in curtains, in the twinkling show lights, to the nearly blinding shine of the lip gloss that absolutely everyone was wearing, left Bekki feeling a little overwhelmed. As
she closed her eyes momentarily while she tried to calm her nerves, memories flooded her mind. She had been one of the stylists that was in demand when it came to fashion shows and beauty pageants. She knew how to do big makeup, and big hair, without it actually looking gaudy and overdone. Her clients would insist that Bekki knew just how to make them beautiful. She appreciated the adoration of her clients, but always attributed their beauty to themselves.

“I can't create what isn't there to start with,” was her usual mantra. Now with her feet
once more solidly planted on the sparkle covered floor of the backstage area, she knew she had a long week ahead of her, and found surprisingly, that she couldn't wait. She felt more in her element than she had for quite some time.

“Just go ahead and get familiar with the girl
s, introduce yourself. Here,” Rafael pushed a pamphlet into her hand. “These are the hairstyles we'll most likely be using the most.”

“Thanks,” Bekki said and started to say more but Rafael had already whisked
himself off in the other direction.

Although the back
stage area was a swarm of women buzzing with excitement and giggling, Bekki could tell right away who were the contestants in the pageant. They were the ones with stars in their eyes, that distant and stunned look that showed they were certain that they were dreaming. There were ten contestants, and Bekki intended to take the time to meet each one.

“Hello there, I'm Bekki, I'll be working
with you on your hair and makeup,” she said to one raven haired beauty who looked like she was about to turn green with nervousness.

“Oh great, oh thank you,” she said as she tugged lightly at her thick hair. “I don't know what you can do with it though. I'm Ana,” she shook Bekki's hand quickly.

“You have gorgeous hair!” Bekki assured her. “Are you excited?”

“I wish I could be,” Ana winced. “I just can't believe I
was actually chosen, and I get to wear all of these expensive clothes, and now all I can think about is whether I will trip and fall!”

“Don't worry,” Bekki assured her. “I've been to plenty of these things and you'll do just fine. Just remember to smile.”

“Oh no, I forgot to smile, didn't I?” Ana reached up to touch her lips lightly. Bekki laughed gently and patted the girl's shoulder reassuringly.

“Try to have fun,” she advised the young woman as she walked toward
s the next contestant. Before she could introduce herself, an argument drew her attention.

“That is Sasha's sash,” a shrill voice carried over the din of the backstage. It was followed by the
loud cluck of a tongue.

“No
, it most certainly is not,” a harsher more masculine tone fired back. “That is Alana's sash, see, it matches her dress!”

The voices were easily recognizable, not because Bekki knew who they belonged to, but because she had heard the same words from different mothers on more than one occasion. Since most of the contestants were in their late teens, they still had dear old mother controlling their every move. Bekki had often felt sorry for some of the girls whose mothers were so delusional that they would not allow their daughters to eat or drink before the pageant.

Then the true horror erupted.

“Oh no!” the shrill voice grew even shriller to the point that Bekki needed to cover her ears. “They're wearing the same dress!”

Bekki caught the overbearing floral scent before she even saw the person approaching. She recognized the woman by her obnoxious perfume. She had been wearing it for years, and it made Bekki a little sick to her stomach every time she smelled it. Candy LaRuse had organized thousands of pageants. She was a Miss Everything herself, and now as a woman in her mid-fifties she still took her beauty every bit as seriously.

“Ladies, ladies, how unbecoming,” she chastised in a syrupy voice as she wriggled her skin and bone frame through the crowd that had gathered. “Of course it is a horrible tragedy that you have both purchased such an ugly dress
for the opening segment, perhaps there is something that we have laying around from last year that will at least be slightly better than that piece of… of…,” she shuddered a little. “I'm not even sure what to call it,” she smiled sweetly and batted her mascara laden lashes.

Bekki observed both of the mothers'
heavily made up faces contort into expressions of deep offense. But neither would dare say a word against Candy, as they might end up negatively affected in the competition if they did. As both mothers hurried off, presumably to find the nearest dress shop, Bekki did her best to avoid having to speak to Candy. She made it to the small room where the hair and makeup stations were set up, and breathed a sigh of relief. At least here she would be able to hide out for a while. As she was setting up her supplies one of the judges sauntered into the room. She knew he was one of the judges because he was wearing one of those brilliant orange ribbons that declared that he should be bribed and kissed up to by every contestant.

“Hey there gorgeous,” he slurred as he leaned close to Bekki. She could smell the alcohol on his breath. He looked to be in his mid-forties with pocked scars on his cheeks that gave him a rough quality. His piercing
, green eyes afforded him some attractiveness, but the fact they were bloodshot made it clear that he was half-crocked. “What number contestant are you?” he inquired.

Wow, he must be drunk.
Bekki thought to herself with a quiet giggle. “I'm not a contestant,” she grinned, feeling a little flattered that he had thought so, since most of the girls in the competition were about ten years younger than her, and at least thirty pounds lighter.

“Oh
, too bad,” the man said with disappointment. “I'm Martin,” he offered her his hand.

“Bekki,” she replied politely and gave his hand a quick shake. She knew from experience how fast a
drunk person could shift from friendly to enraged and she didn't want to aggravate him by ignoring his advances. “Have to get back to work,” she said quickly as she began sorting through a makeup kit.

“Work can wait,” Martin slurred as he stepped closer to her. Bekki suddenly became aware that she was alone in the room, and with all the noise and chaos outside no one would likely
hear her call for help. All of the hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she felt his alcohol-laced breath trail across the spaghetti strap of her dress.

“Back off Martin,” she warned as her muscles tensed. She had studied for several years to become a black belt, and was prepared to use that knowledge.

“Oh, come on now,” he hooked his fingers lightly through a wave of her dark hair and drew it back across her shoulder. “A little fun won't hurt you any, and no one's around to stop us…”

“Martin what are you doing back here?” Candy's squeaky voice interrupted just as Bekki was turning into a throwing position. Martin stepped back from Bekki and turned to face Candy
who was standing in the doorway.

“Just getting to know the staff,” he said casually and took a swig from the paper cup he was holding. He moved past her out of the room, as if the matter was settled.

“I told you to stop harassing the women,” Candy snapped at him. “If it were up to me you'd already be fired.”

“But it isn't up to you is it,” Martin chuckled darkly as he leaned closer to her, drawing the attention of everyone around them. “You're not really in charge here.”

"Dry up Martin," Candy snapped as she snatched the cup from his hand. She took a sniff of the liquid inside and then gasped. "You're kidding me, right?" she glared at him, and then in front of everyone backstage she splashed the drink across Martin's shiny blue button-down shirt. Martin sputtered, his eyes wide with fury as the vodka sunk into the material.

"Do you have any idea how much this cost?" he demanded as his ruddy hands curved into tight
fists that made his large knuckles stand out.

"I don't care how much your shirt cost," Candy snapped in return and glowered at him, her perfectly stenciled brows forming a very rigid line across her forehead. "
I will not allow any of my judges to be drunk during one of the most important competitions of the year," she pointed a manicured fingernail in his direction, the diamond-like jewels tacked on to the end glinted in the stage lighting. "If I catch you with any of this swill anywhere near one of my girls I will have you arrested for public intoxication…"

"Don't you threaten me
, Candy!" he growled, and his piercing, green eyes lit up with hatred. Bekki tried to stay out of it, as the last thing she wanted was to be tangled up in some kind of argument with Candy, but she could see all of the contestants looking at the two with worry and a good amount of fear.

"Why do
n't I find you a new shirt," Bekki heard herself suggest to Martin before she could catch herself. Candy pursed her dark maroon shaded lips and scowled at Bekki.

"Why
don't you stay out of this, makeup girl!" she spat each word in Bekki's direction. Bekki felt her temper rise the moment she heard the woman's voice. As she turned swiftly to face Candy she caught sight of someone standing in the shadows, watching her. It was Rafael, and from the look of warning on his face it was clear that she was not allowed to put Candy in her place.

"I just didn't want the smell to get into the dresses," Bekki explained through gritted teeth. "You know the scent of alcohol will just cling," she managed a sweet smile that trembled with the rage hidden beneath it.

"Oh," Candy said with slight surprise. She nodded as if it made perfect sense to her now. "Fine then, just find him something, and make sure that shirt gets tossed out with the garbage, along with any bottles of alcohol he has stashed."

With that she spun on her spiked heel and click-clacked off across the stage.

"Any man would need to be drunk to put up with her," Martin was grumbling to himself as he wiped at his shirt. Bekki bit her tongue as she wanted to point out that he was not much better, but she decided against it. She started walking towards wardrobe, when she heard his footsteps behind her. She spun around and thrust her forearm beneath his chin, pushed hard against his throat, propelling him into the wall.

“Back off
, Martin,” she said and met his gaze intensely. “I'll get you a shirt, but you stay right here. And if you try to pull any of that with any of these young girls, it isn't only Candy you'll have to worry about, understand?”

Martin sputtered as he tried to draw a breath, but he nodded. Bekki released him and then headed off to find him a new shirt. She didn't think he would have
done anything to her, but even just the indication that he might have was reason enough to teach the man a lesson. Bekki walked back to the wardrobe area and snatched up a shirt to replace Martin's. She couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that the man had left her with.

As Bekki walked back towards the stage, she felt a strange sensation that c
aused her to look up quickly. Jemma glowered from the shadows cast by the thick curtains. Bekki noticed the heated expression on her face. Jemma was in line to run the pageant this year, but when, at the last minute, Candy volunteered to run it for another year, Jemma was demoted back to being her assistant. Bekki could see why Jemma was upset, but she hoped it wouldn't interfere with the pageant.

“Jemma, where's my coffee?” Candy called out shrilly as she marched back and forth amidst the fluttering and gossiping of the girls getting ready for rehearsal. Jemma reluctantly stepped away from the curtains to hand Candy her coffee.