Miss Congeniality (2 page)

“Hey, stranger,” she called to her brother, who was behind the counter at the mechanic shop where he had worked since graduating high school two years before.

“Hey, squirt.” He came around and hugged her, ignoring the fact she was dressed nicely while he was covered in grease.

“You all ready?” She had discussed her plans with Alex last month when he came over to Derrick and Silvia’s house. His visits were getting fewer and farther between. She noticed the circles under his eyes, the weak smile he rarely showed anymore, and knew without a doubt he had been hanging around their mother.

“I am.” She grinned, so excited she could hardly stand it. “Sure you don’t want to go with me?” She had begged him. He needed to get out or he would suffocate under the weight of their mother.

“Nah.” He playfully slugged her in the shoulder. “This has always been your dream, not mine.”

“What are you going to do?” Blue eyes which used to comfort her stared at her lifelessly. They both knew she wasn’t talking about moving. He sighed.

“I don’t know. I can’t leave her, though; I never could.”

Tears pricked her eyes, but she ruthlessly pushed them back. She refused to cry for her mother, although the thought of leaving her brother here made her want to sit on the floor and wail like a baby.

“You’re not her keeper,” Brea reiterated for what seemed like the millionth time.

“I know,” he said pensively. It was an old argument, one they had repeatedly over the years. She got it—he couldn’t abandon their mother. But at the same time, Brea refused to allow herself to be dragged down in her mother’s shit.

“Do you?”

“Yeah. Do you need anything?” She barely resisted the sigh, knowing he didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

“Nope, everything’s all packed, and Aunt Silvia fixed some snacks.”

He chuckled, well aware of Silvia’s penchant for making sure all her chicks had plenty of food.

“Good to know some things never change.” She didn’t miss the irony but decided to leave it alone. She shuffled from one foot to the other, not wanting to leave but knowing she couldn’t stay.

“Well, I just wanted to come see your ugly mug and get my hug before I left.” He grabbed her and held her tightly, rubbing her back. She wrapped her arms around him, the tears she held back earlier seeping through the corners.

“Love you,” she whispered, comforted by her best friend. He pulled back, and she was surprised to see the redness in his eyes. He kissed her forehead before he gripped the side of her neck.

“Listen to me, Brea.” Stormy gray eyes stared at her intently. “You were always the better one.” She shook her head violently, hating that this goodbye felt permanent. He nodded, despite her denial.

“You were. I want you to get out and stay the hell out. Don’t come back here; there’s not a damn thing for you here.”

She wiped her eyes. “My family’s here.”

“And we will always be here for you. Always. You can see your family anytime, but you need to follow your dreams, so no matter how difficult it is to make it, don’t give up. Don’t ever forget that. You are the best damn thing in my life, and I want to keep it that way. Take that light which shines in you and be the successful movie star I know you’re going to be. Now, take this money and promise me.” He shook her shoulders, tears streaking down his face. She lost it; this amazing man, who always protected her, was breaking down in front of her. She could only nod as he brushed the tears from her eyes, still taking care of her.

“I promise,” she mumbled, hugging him tightly, refusing to break contact. She didn’t know how long they stood there before he pulled back and handed her an envelope. She peeked inside, counted over three thousand dollars, and tried to hand it back. Alex brushed her hand away, refusing to take the money back.

“You take the money. I’ve been saving it for you. Your destiny, where you’re meant to be, is out in California.” She hugged him again, reluctant to break contact, knowing it was goodbye.

Brea kept her promise. She worked hard as she nickeled and dimed her way to the top. She did whatever odd job she needed to, scrimping and scrapping her money, while she took any small part she could get. It took her three years to get her big break, a spot on a new primetime drama show,
Maggie Beach
, and the rest was history. Seven years and the top primetime rating six years in a row, and Brea Richards was a household name. She made herself over into an amiable Hollywood starlet with class, while preventing the media from digging too deeply into her past. She refused to think about the family she barely saw, left behind in that small town where she experienced her first salvation in Derrick and Silvia Scott. Brea refused to talk about her prostitute, drug-addled mother, whose addiction gripped her so tightly she traded drugs and johns over her children. In addition, if Brea ever remembered her hometown when she was standing under those bright lights, she smiled brighter, thinking about that long ago promise to her brother.

“M
iss Hollywood!”

“Miss Congeniality!”

“Miss Man-eater!”

Brea Richards, Raquel Adams, and Clare Martin smiled for the media, temporarily blinded by all the camera flashes. They didn’t acknowledge the shouts of their names, well-versed on the drill.
Just smile pretty
, Brea thought,
and don’t answer any unauthorized questions.
The women waved and joked with those closest to them as they walked to the pressroom. It took the girls over fifteen minutes to make it there. To anyone else, fifteen minutes would seem like a breeze, but to someone who had to continuously wave her hand and keep smiling it felt like a lifetime.

I love this job
, Brea repeated in her head like a mantra. And she did, generally. She could do without the press, but it was par for the course. She couldn’t continue to make money and act in the number-one primetime show,
Maggie Beach
, if she refused to deal with the media; hence, the reason for a press conference today. Big changes were coming to the show, including the addition of a new star, and the producers wanted to generate more buzz before they started shooting in a week. There was no shortage of rumors flashing around about the show, and today a couple of those would be laid to rest.

Mainly the rumor about my character’s love interest
, Brea thought, because the viewers all said they wanted her mild-mannered character to get her chance to fall in love after she had been put through her paces last year. A lot of names were being batted around, but they would never guess the role would go to Mr. Lance Holder, Hollywood bad boy. She didn’t know him personally; but from what she heard about him, he was nothing but bad news. A tattooed, motorcycle-riding man-whore, who had a penchant for finding trouble wherever he went.

“Damn, I’m glad that’s done,” Clare said as the women made their way into a small conference room. That’s where they would stay and take a breather while the execs from the show ran the press conference before they called the women on to answer questions.

“Tell me about it. It’s like they never fucking let up.” Raquel lay across the small couch in the room. She was trying to get comfortable by lying on her side. Her head propped on her hand caused her breasts to thrust out, and with her long, blonde hair draped artfully over her shoulder, she looked like she was on a modeling shoot as opposed to resting before a press conference. Brea always envied her height; Raquel was a cool 5’10, and at 5’6, Brea always felt like the shorty of the group. Clare was no better; she stood at 5’9 while her caramel-colored hair and chocolate-brown eyes made her one of the most sought after actresses. All three girls were gorgeous; you had to be to make it in this business. However, Raquel and Brea only wanted to work on the television show. They made a cool million an episode, and a thirteen-episode season meant the girls were well paid each year. Clare was a workaholic, doing movies on her off-season, while Brea and Raquel only focused on the occasional modeling gig and sponsorship deal if it truly interested them.

Maggie Beach,
their primetime drama, told the story of three best friends trying to make it in Manhattan. It followed their work and personal lives and told the struggles of modern twenty-somethings everywhere. When it started seven years ago, critics said it would never work, that no one wanted to watch a show about the issues three single women faced, and subsequently gave them horrible reviews. But it wasn’t the premise of the show so much as The Three Misses who made the show successful. Dubbed that by the press, they were seen as individual persons who existed as a cohesive whole.

Brea was Miss Congeniality, the down-home girl, the nice one, America’s sweetheart. The media saw her as the innocent one who every girl wanted to be and every boy wanted to bring home to Mama. Brea always laughed at her classification; they had no fucking clue the naive one used to walk over heroin needles to get to school but that was her secret to keep; nobody’s fucking business but her own. Derrick and Silvia hadn’t raised an idiot; she used her reputation to cultivate deals and make more money, and no one was the wiser. Brea took in Clare and Raquel, as trapped in their respective reputations as Brea was.

Clare was Miss Hollywood, the golden girl who seemed to have it together. Seen as the perfect one who got whatever she wanted, she always landed the hottest movie deal. Everyone wanted her; she was a dream to work with and seen as everyone’s best friend. People sought her out; to be seen with Clare was to know you had made it. She was the life of the party and Hollywood’s current ‘it’ girl. Brea didn’t know when she had time to sleep. Between working crazy hours year-round and the revolving door of parties, Brea got tired just watching her. Even now, Clare was bopping around to the music playing in the room, her seemingly-nervous energy never abating.

Now Raquel, Miss Man-eater, was another story altogether. You would never know by looking at her that she was viewed as public enemy number one. Women hated her, men just wanted to fuck her, and she cultivated that reputation to its fullest. Nicknamed the Ice Queen, she worked that shit like it was nobody’s business. She knew she was a sex symbol; that’s how she made her money, but it also came at a price. Men wanted to do her, but no one wanted to date her. In addition, the relationships she did try to have usually ended disastrously and very publicly, so she tended to swear off men for long periods of times. She was the one everyone wanted to hate. Bad behavior generally splashed front page, but Raquel acted very nonchalant about her reputation. The really sad part was she really wasn’t as bad as everyone believed she was; she just tended to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“You guys ready for this?” Clare asked after she took a drink of water.

“Hell yeah, I can’t wait to see them shit their pants when they hear Lance is going to be on the show.” Raquel grinned, sitting up on the couch.

Brea chuckled. “I know, and not a damn rumor about it either. That never happens.” Generally, someone blabs, but this deal was kept so under wraps the girls themselves didn’t know until that morning, and they were the show’s bread and butter.

“Have you ever worked with him?” Raquel directed her question at Clare for obvious reasons. Clare ran a hand through her bob, tucking a piece behind her ear while she thought about the question.

“Surprisingly, no, although I think Jason knows him.” Jason was Clare’s friend with benefits, one of the supporting actors on the show she hooked up with when it was convenient for both of them.

“What does he think?” Brea wondered aloud. She was the one who would be working with him the closest, and Brea liked to get an idea of who she would be dealing with the for the next five months.

Clare pursed her lips, trying to recall the conversation she had with Jason that morning. “He seems to think Lance is great. I mean, you know Jason. He’s such a guy’s guy, and he is a bit star-struck with anyone who’s cooler than he is. Which is everyone,” she finished the last statement on a grumble.

“Okay,” Brea said, looking at Clare strangely. Maybe things weren’t as good as Clare made it out to be. Although they weren’t dating, Brea figured at least they liked each other.