38

Lana DeLucca sat at her dressing table teasing her hair, which didn’t seem to want to behave this morning. It was a crying shame, she thought, knowing that you couldn’t trust anybody anymore. Oh, the girls acted like they were the sweetest. They’d do anything for you. Lend you lipstick, nail polish, you name it.

And steal your custom-made evening gown.

Well, Michelangelo had certainly come through in a pinch on that one. The dress he’d had delivered to the dressing room wasn’t the same, of course, but it was close. The thing was, once she’d realized these girls were like anybody else, it had made her uneasy. That meant the pageant was like real life. Disaster could strike again at any time. From any place.

Lana narrowed her eyes—she was more than a little nearsighted—and peered across the room. Naked girls were everywhere, changing into swimsuits and wraps for the beach number rehearsal. That was one thing about this pageant business. You couldn’t afford to be modest. Every time you turned around, somebody was stripping you down, zipping you up, measuring your butt, your boobs, your body fat, your muscle tone, taping, spraying, teasing, combing, currying you. Now she knew how her Uncle Jimmy’s racehorses felt.

Well, it was almost over. Rehearsals the rest of today and the parade this evening. More rehearsals tomorrow, and then the finals, and they could all go home and fall down. And pork up. Lose those diets.

Except Miss America, who would hit the road.

And Misses Louisiana and Texas, who would be swimming with the fishes if she had her way.

Look at them over there, giggling together. She bet they were lovers. She just bet. She’d never liked Southern girls. She couldn’t understand a word they were saying. And these two thought they were so smart. Taking the wind out of her Jersey Devil story. That big redheaded Connors giving girls financial advice like she was some kind of stockbroker, for chrissakes. The other one, Magic, reading palms, telling fortunes, making everybody laugh with her tricks. Pulling coins out of ears, rabbits out of makeup kits. She bet that’s what they’d done with her dress—just made it disappear.

She knew it was them. All sweetness and light like they were just here having a good time, didn’t give a hoot about winning.

That was a joke. Any girl here would sell her first kid to win, and anybody who said different was full of it.

Well, they weren’t getting to her again. She had her dresses and her costumes hidden away in a place in her hotel so safe they’d never think of it.

So there!

“Hi, Lana, how y’doing?” It was Rae Ann, Miss Georgia. Now she was different. She really was sweet. And, like real. “Have you been doing your visualizations?” Rae Ann asked.

Lana didn’t know what she was talking about.

“You know, what I told you the other day. I do this every time before I step on a stage. You draw an imaginary circle on the floor, and in that circle is what you want. You stand outside that circle and you really concentrate on what you want. And then you concentrate on what it’s going to feel like when you have it. When you can really feel that, feel it in your bones, then you step inside the circle, and it’s like a glow comes all over you. Then you know. You have it.”

Lana frowned, and that little wrinkle appeared between her eyes. She’d felt tingly glows before, sure, but they didn’t have anything to do with imagining. They were real. Rae Ann was so religious, though, she probably didn’t want to hear about them. But speaking of religion. “That may work for you, Rae Ann, but I wonder the same thing about that as I wonder about guys praying before, like, a football game.”

“Huh?”

“Well, you know. If the Giants pray to win, and then let’s say the Redskins pray to win, how does God decide?”

“Well, gosh, Lana, I don’t know. I never thought about it like that before.”

“This is the same thing. If we all imagine stepping in that circle and winning, what’s gonna happen? Does God flip a coin like the umpire at the beginning of the game, or what? Or is it like little kids asking for things from Santa Claus? Is it whether you’ve been naughty or nice?”

Rae Ann just stared at Lana. Lana could tell Rae Ann was super-impressed with all this philosophical stuff.

Just about then, wouldn’t you just know, Miss Louisiana waltzed over and leaned down to her and said, “I’ve been thinking about you a lot, and there’s something I’ve got to tell you. In fact, I dreamed about you last night.”

Uh-huh. Right. Dreamed what? An apology for snitching her gown? Well, it was too late. Lana had already taken care of her and her buddy. Sometimes you couldn’t just say I’m sorry and walk away. Not if you crossed a DeLucca.

“Yesssss?” she smiled up at Magic.

“There’s good news and bad news. I’m going to give you the bad news first.”

Oh boy. She was really full of it, wasn’t she? Like all this mumbo jumbo magic bit meant something.

“Look at me, Lana,” Magic was saying. “Look into my eyes.”

Lana rolled her big browns at Rae Ann, who was standing there with her baby blues looking like saucers, her mouth open, gaping at Magic. Then Lana slowly, like she was bored to spit, met Magic’s. In that instant, a thrill shot straight through her. It was like brushing up against a live wire.

Magic said, “You need to be careful. Very careful. I think there’s someone trying to hurt you.”

Right. You, that’s who!

“So you stay on your toes. I heard about your dress last night, but that’s not the whole bad thing. That may be part of it—”

“Well, you ought to know,” Lana blurted.

“Why, Lana!” Rae Ann, who was still standing there, wasn’t used to people being so rude.

“You get away from me, Magic Washington! Get away and stay away! I’m warning you!” Heads snapped all over the dressing room.

Magic said, “You don’t understand.”

“I understand all I want to.” Lana picked up her hairbrush and waved it in front of her. “You back off. Do you hear me? Out of my face!”

Magic turned tail and strolled off, trying to look casual, but Lana knew she’d rattled her. Good! “There, there,” Rae Ann soothed.

She took the brush out of Lana’s hand. “You’re just going to upset yourself. Shuh. Shuh.” She ran the brush through Lana’s hair like she was soothing a baby. “This is no time to get yourself all upset. You’ve got to keep your concentration. Keep focused on winning.”

“Well, I know she’s the one who took my dress. She and that Connors. And then she comes sucking around, trying to freak me out with that mumbo jumbo.”

“I know that’s what you think, but that’s just nerves. Nobody’s trying to hurt you. Hush, now. Hush.” Rae Ann brushed and brushed. She hummed a little lullabye under her breath. And then she stopped.

“What?” said Lana.

“Nothing.”

“What?”

“I was just wondering what the good news was. You know, the good news Magic mentioned.” And then Rae Ann looked down at the brush she was holding in her hand. “Oh, my God! Blessed Jesus!”

Rae Ann never took the Lord’s name in vain.

“What?” Lana wheeled around.

Rae Ann, open-mouthed, held out the brush. It was filled with a handful of Lana’s long blond hair—snapped right off at the roots.