Snow Queen (4 page)

“I run! In the morning!” Christie piped in overly loudly. “Sometimes.”

“Yeah? We should go together sometime,” Jonathan said, taking a sip of his drink.

Christie laughed so hard she let out a snort. Then she slapped her hand over her mouth and sat down at her oatmeal again, looking horrified. Aubrey sighed. She was never going to get these two together if Christie couldn’t get comfortable around him. At least Jonathan was still smiling at Christie, so the snort hadn’t totally turned him off.

“How was it? Your skate,” Jonathan asked.

“Okay. Good,” Aubrey said flatly, glancing at the clock on the wall. “I can’t believe I was out there for over an hour.”

“Then you’ll have worked up an appetite,” Rose said. “What do you like? Eggs? Oatmeal?
I can make pancakes.”

“I’m totally in for pancakes,” Jonathan said, pulling out the chair on Christie’s other side and sitting down. Christie’s blush deepened and she took a bite of her oatmeal.

Aubrey’s stomach grumbled at the thought of a big stack of pancakes, but she reached for the bowl of fruit salad at the center of the table.

“I’m good with this,” she said, serving up a heaping helping.

“No! You need more than that. It’s cold out there. You need something warm in ya,” Rose said, turning away from the stove for a moment to squeeze Aubrey’s shoulder.

“Yeah, Aubrey.
Just
fruit salad?” Christie asked. “I’ve never seen you turn down a carb in your life.”

Aubrey took a deep breath and toyed with the fraying edge of the red cotton placemat under her stoneware plate. She did not relish the thought of going back on her word. It was something she rarely, if ever, did. But if she had to, she might as well get it over with.

“Well, I don’t want to be all bloated for the pageant,” she said, casting a quick glance at Christie.

Her friend’s dark eyes widened so fast Aubrey was afraid her face might break. “What?” Christie squealed.

Jim started and looked up from his paper as if he’d just realized there were other people in the room. “What just happened?”

“Aubrey’s going to do the pageant!” Christie exclaimed. She threw her arms around Aubrey and squeezed her so hard she almost choked. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Wow. I guess you really wanted her to do the pageant,” Jonathan joked.

“Oh, you have no idea!” Christie replied, forgetting to be nervous in all the excitement.

“Let go of her, dear. She’s having trouble breathing,” Rose said kindly, nudging Christie’s shoulder. She placed a cup of steaming hot coffee in front of Aubrey and smiled.

“Oh my God. Sorry!” Christie leaned back and covered her mouth with both hands for a moment, her eyes dancing with glee. “What changed your mind?”

Aubrey’s skin tingled at the memory of Grayson’s laugh. The amused and triumphant look on Layla’s face. “Let’s just say I want to
help you win and see you put Layla and that whole stupid family of hers in their place.”

And maybe I’ll come in second
, she added silently.
Just to annoy them even more
.

But she promised herself right then that her only goal in all of this would be to help Christie win. Her friend had been dreaming about that crown for years, and Aubrey was not about to get in her way.

“Hear, hear!” Jim cheered, lifting his coffee mug.

“Don’t we all,” Rose muttered under her breath as she returned to the stove.

“What, Rose?” Christie asked, turning in her seat.

“Nothing!” Rose replied cheerily. She served up some eggs on two separate plates and added two slices of wheat toast, then placed the plates in front of Aubrey and Christie. “But you two are going to need your energy if you’re going to take down Layla Chamberlain.”

“The fix is in!” Jim added, his eyes back on his paper.

Jonathan laughed as Rose rolled her eyes fondly at her husband.

“Please. Christie can beat Layla any day of the week and twice on Sunday,” Jonathan said.

Christie blushed so deeply Aubrey thought her friend might spontaneously combust. It was so obvious Jonathan liked her he may as well have had “I (heart) Christie” tattooed on his nose.

“Thanks,” Christie said, so quietly it was barely audible.

“And you too, Aubrey,” he added quickly, blushing as well.

“Yeah, yeah,” Aubrey said lightly.

Rose patted Aubrey on the back. “Eat up.”

Aubrey’s willpower flew out the window at the sight of the scrambled eggs. Rose was right. If she was going to endure a full day of rehearsals with Layla and a whole mess of girls like her, she was going to need her strength.

“Thank you, Aubrey, really,” Christie said, putting her hand over Aubrey’s on the table. “This is going to be
so much fun
!”

Aubrey managed a smile. She wasn’t sure about that assessment, but she knew there was one part of this whole endeavor that she would enjoy—seeing the look on Christie’s face when she won that crown.

T
he Chamberlain Ski Resort and Spa was built into the side of the mountain, its twelve-story façade rising up into the sky, its hundreds of plate-glass windows reflecting the glistening sun. Turrets and shingled roofs and private verandas overlooked the extensive grounds. Everything was pristine and beautiful.

The first things Aubrey noticed when she walked into the huge lobby were the two tremendous stone fireplaces flanking the room. The second thing she noticed was a large calendar of events for the month, posted on the wall across from the check-in desk. It seemed that there was something going on every day and night—events ranging from indoor water-polo matches to square dances to a silent auction and something called a Winter Ball.

“Wow. They really like to keep you busy around here, don’t they?” Aubrey said to Christie, noting that tonight there was going to be a cocktail party and private concert in the main lounge.

“That’s the Chamberlain for you,” Christie said. “It’s all about seeing and being seen.” Her eyes narrowed as she looked over the schedule. “That’s weird. They forgot to put the carnival on there.”

“Why would they? Isn’t it your grandparents’ thing?” Aubrey asked.

“It’s really a whole-town thing,” Christie replied. “People come to Darling just for the carnival, so the Chamberlain always runs a shuttle over there. And it’s also why they schedule the pageant for this week, because they know there will be tons of people around to buy tickets.”

“Huh. Maybe you should tell someone it’s not on there,” Aubrey said.

“Yeah…maybe later,” Christie said, glancing at her gold watch. “I don’t want to be late for the first meeting.”

Christie led Aubrey through the lobby and out the back door. Aubrey hesitated at the threshold,
clinging to her white cotton cardigan.

“The meeting is outside?” she asked.

“It’s at the amphitheater, where the pageant is always held,” Christie said. She shot Aubrey a look of concern. “I told you to wear your coat.”

Just suck it up
, Aubrey told herself as a pair of chatting girls in furry boots and snow hats slid past them onto the cobblestone pathway outside.
How bad can it be?

Aubrey held her breath and stepped outside, clutching her personal information form as if it could somehow keep her warm. On the form were written her name, birth date, year in high school, and some other vital information, including her measurements—something the pageant needed for some costume she had to wear. She hadn’t had a clue what her measurements were, so Rose had taken them for her after breakfast, which was when Aubrey had learned that she had zero curves. None whatsoever.

“I didn’t think I’d
need
a coat,” Aubrey said as a stiff wind nearly blew the breath right out of her. The last thing she’d wanted to do was show up in her lumberjack gear and invite more
insults from Layla and her friend Rebecca. Not to mention the fact that it didn’t exactly seem like the type of outerwear a pageant girl would wear. She had thought she’d just have to go from the car to the hotel, not sit in the cold for an hour. “Why do they hold this thing outside? Doesn’t everyone freeze?”

“They’ll have heat lamps the night of the event,” Christie said, looking perfectly toasty and warm in her own jacket. “Are you not wearing your coat because of what Layla and Rebecca said about it? Because your comfort is way more important than what other people think.”

“I know,” Aubrey said defensively, annoyed all over again that she had let Layla get to her. “That’s not why I’m not wearing it,” she lied. “I just thought we’d be inside.”

They had just come to a fork in the path and the girls ahead of them veered off to the left. Aubrey could see the huge stone amphitheater down the hill with at least fifty rows of seating facing the stage. She gulped, imagining the place packed with spectators. Was it too late to back out of this?

“This thing doesn’t, like, sell out, does it?” she asked Christie.

“Oh, every year,” Christie replied casually. “Standing room only. That’s why I’m so glad you’re doing this with me. If you weren’t, I’d definitely chicken out.”

Right. You’re doing this for Christie. Remember that
, Aubrey told herself.
And so that she can win and Layla can watch it happen. And so that you can prove to Grayson that you can be a pageant girl
.

Every time Aubrey thought about the encounter with Grayson that morning, she felt a thrill of excitement followed by a rush of annoyance. The flirting had been fun, but why had he laughed about her being in the pageant? Was the idea of her as a beauty queen that hilarious? She had told Christie about the whole thing while they were getting ready to come to the meeting, and Christie had been thrilled that Grayson Chamberlain was the gorgeous boy from the lake. She had insisted that Gray was an incredible guy and was sure that Aubrey had taken his laughter the wrong way.

Aubrey hoped her friend was right, but Christie hadn’t been there. She hadn’t seen how
humiliating the whole thing was.

Christie wrapped her arm around Aubrey’s, which served, at least, to warm one side of Aubrey’s body, and started down the hill toward the seating area. There were already about a dozen girls crowded into the center of the front row, Layla and Rebecca included, so Aubrey slipped in behind them and settled into a chair in the middle. Layla glanced over her shoulder as they sat. She was looking cozy in a gray fur jacket and matching earmuffs.

“Hey, FL, I know you surfer girls are supposed to be ditzy and all that, so I’ll give you a helpful hint. It’s called a coat.”

Apparently Bitchy Layla was back in action. As she and the girls around her giggled, Aubrey tried to look unaffected by the cold. But her fingertips were starting to go numb. How long, exactly, did it take a person to develop frostbite?

“Ladies! Welcome one and all to the tenth annual Darling, Vermont, Snow Queen Pageant!”

Aubrey looked up at the stage to find a diminutive woman in a long, purple, faux-fur
cape waltzing toward center stage. She wore a matching fur hat that stood up a good foot off her head, and so much makeup her face could have been a Halloween mask. Long, white silk gloves covered her arms, and her knee-high, mustard-colored heeled boots were decorated with long fringe. Her accent was somewhere between French and Russian, which made her ridiculously difficult to understand. The first words that popped into Aubrey’s mind were “total nut job.”

“
I
am
Fabrizia!
” she announced.

So this was the person Grayson and Layla had rushed off to greet that morning. That must have been one interesting breakfast.

“I will be your director, your guide, your mentor, and your big sister throughout the next two weeks,” Fabrizia said, bringing her hands together. Every gesture she made was elegant and drawn out, like a dancer’s, and each of her words took a good three seconds to sink into Aubrey’s brain. She felt as if she was deciphering code as she listened to the director talk. “But before we get started, I would like to introduce to you my assistant director and the emcee for this
year’s pageant, Mr. Grayson Chamberlain!”

Those last two words, Aubrey understood perfectly. Her heart caught as Grayson strode out from the wings, wearing a black wool coat that made his blond hair look even lighter, and carrying a clipboard. He lifted a hand to acknowledge the smattering of applause from the audience.

“Thanks, everyone. It’s good to be here, helping Fabrizia out,” he said. “As most of you know, I usually act as a judge for this event, but since my little sister is competing this year…” Here he paused to point Layla out and she sat up straight, preening. “…I thought it would be best if I removed myself from the panel. So if you guys need anything, just let me know.”

Grayson looked right at Aubrey and widened his smile. As irked as she still was by his reaction to her pageant-girl status that morning, Aubrey couldn’t help smiling back. He was just that swoon-worthy. Then Layla turned around and gave Aubrey a sour look—which wiped the grin right off Aubrey’s face. She sank in her seat slightly and then stayed there, realizing that the
lower she sat, the more the wind was blocked by the seats around her. Grayson looked at her with a slight wrinkle in his brow and she started to feel conspicuous. Could he tell she was turning into an ice sculpture of herself out here?

“Now, to go through the order of events for this year’s pageant program,” Fabrizia said, lifting her own clipboard. She donned a pair of tiny, frameless glasses and looked down her nose at her schedule. “First will be the opening dance number, in which you will all participate.”

“Dance number?” Aubrey hissed to Christie. “I don’t dance.”

“It’ll be okay. I’ll help you,” Christie whispered back.

“Shhh!” Layla hissed.

Grayson jogged down the steps at the side of the stage and started walking up the aisle. All the girls were listening to Fabrizia but watching him. Not that Aubrey could blame them. No one could ignore a guy that perfect. Grayson’s eyes were on Aubrey, however, and Aubrey alone. Her heart started to pound. What was he doing?

“Then we will have your introductions, followed by the evening-gown competition, the snowsuit competition—”

Snowsuits, okay
, Aubrey thought as she began to shiver uncontrollably.
That’s better than swimsuits, at least. I’d die out here in a swimsuit.

Grayson slipped into the empty row of seats behind her and Christie. He shrugged out of his coat and slid it over her shoulders. Aubrey instantly warmed from head to toe. Part of her wanted to shrug the jacket off and hand it back, independent girl that she was, but the coat was all toasty from his body heat and she couldn’t bring herself to remove it. The very idea that Grayson’s warmth was now warming her made her giddy all over.

“Better?” he whispered in her ear.

A pleasant tingle ran all up and down the right side of her body.

“Much,” she replied.

Christie shot Aubrey a giddy, impressed look, which made it much more difficult for Aubrey to keep from grinning. Layla, meanwhile, started to tap her foot in annoyance. Which just made the whole thing that much nicer.

“Then the talent competition,” Fabrizia continued.

“What?” Aubrey blurted, sitting up straight.

Everyone laughed at her sudden outburst, including Grayson, who was now sitting behind her.

“Apparently someone has no talent,” Rebecca said loudly, earning another round of giggles.

“Rebecca!” Layla scolded, glancing back at Grayson.

Aubrey bit her tongue to keep from snapping at the girl. Now she was
certain
that Layla was putting on a nice-girl act for her brother. There was no doubt in her mind that if Grayson had still been up on stage and out of earshot, Layla would have said the same thing as Rebecca had, or worse. But instead, she was acting as if Rebecca was being immature—and making sure that Grayson noticed.

Did Grayson know that his sister had two faces?

“Ladies, please! Let’s settle down,” Fabrizia said, holding her clipboard up. “And finally the interview portion.”

“What am I supposed to do for talent?”
Aubrey whispered to Christie, glancing at Grayson out of the corner of her eye.

“You can sing. You’re in the choir,” Christie replied.

“Yeah, but there are a hundred other people in the choir, too. I just blend,” Aubrey said through her teeth. “I’ve never done a solo.”

“We’ll figure it out. I promise,” Christie said, keeping her eyes trained on Fabrizia, who was still talking. Something about etiquette and being a good sport, all of which was lost on Aubrey. She sat back in her seat, fuming. What had Christie gotten her into here? She had thought this was a beauty pageant. A lot of walking and posing and smiling. Not dancing and performing talents that she did not possess.

What I wouldn’t give to be playing hockey right now
, Aubrey thought, as the girls around her whispered and giggled and fixed their makeup.

For the rest of the meeting, Aubrey sat and stared at the vaulted roof over the stage, trying to imagine herself singing in front of hundreds of people. She couldn’t think of a single song
to which she knew all the words—other than “Jingle Bells” and “Happy Birthday.” There was no way she could do this. Just no way.

Maybe Grayson had been right to laugh at her this morning. Clearly, she was not pageant-worthy.

“Okay, then, my little princesses! I will see you tomorrow for the first rehearsal!” Fabrizia said finally.

“Why is she calling us ‘princesses’?” Aubrey asked.

“We’re all snow princesses until one of us is named Snow Queen. That’s how it works,” Christie replied.

Great. Just what Aubrey had always wanted to be—a princess. Ugh.

“Make sure to give your measurements to my assistant director on the way out!” Fabrizia added.

Aubrey looked down at her crumpled piece of paper. She had to give this to Grayson? Grayson was going to know her measurements? Could this get any worse?

Everyone stood up. Aubrey and Christie
turned around to face Grayson.

“Hi, Gray!” Christie said with a smile. “How was your year?”

“Can’t complain,” Grayson replied. “I decided not to go to college this year, which of course made my father’s head explode,” he said. “That’s actually why I’m emceeing the event. The guilt trip my mother laid on me was massive. Somehow my taking such an active role in her pet project is supposedly going to make up for my utter failure as a son.”

Christie blinked, as if she was having trouble seeing the logic there. Which was, of course, the point. There was no logic there. “Well, it’s going to be cool to have you around every day,” Christie said finally. She glanced at Aubrey. “So I guess you’ve met my friend.”

“Ah, yes. I’ve had the extreme pleasure,” he said, looking at Aubrey in a way that made her heart flutter. “So. Measurements?” he said, holding out his hand. Suddenly there was a wicked smile on his face. Aubrey could only imagine how a hot guy like him enjoyed this part of his job. A couple dozen beautiful girls handing over the intimate details of their bods? It was
probably a dream come true.