The Beauty and the CEO

The contestants were broken down in ages somewhere between twelve and fifteen, and then sixteen to twenty-six. All were dazzled with the makeup and wanted more. Some of them were eager to sit in Zoe’s chair because their sisters had gotten their makeup done for prom yesterday. Occasionally Titus stood by and sneered. It didn’t help that during her downtime, Rebecca shared photographs from last night’s dinner. He muttered under his breath about how, if Zoe was given the position, he was sure he knew why. Titus even commented about the time stamp on each photograph and noticed that, at some point, Zoe and Will disappeared. This was exactly the kind of thing Lexi had warned her about.

By noon, the beauty portion of the pageant was on its way for the sixteen-to twenty-three-year-olds. Zoe enjoyed getting to know her girls and learning about them. She wanted each girl’s makeup to be an expression of herself, rather than a painted face. In Zoe’s eyes, none of the other artists were competition. But Titus went for the kill. He didn’t care about the ages of the girls. He used the glitter gloss on each girl. Zoe was tempted, but she knew the colors were too mature for clients. And, unlike Titus, Zoe’s groups of contestants were all under the age of sixteen. She overheard one of Titus’s girls say she was twenty-six. A part of her wondered if this was part of the competition. Was Ravens Cosmetics looking for a way for the interviewees to integrate their new makeup line?

Everyone was able to take thirty to forty-five minutes for lunch. Everyone who worked backstage gathered around the long buffet table. Riddled with guilt, Zoe decided to give Lexi a call. She needed to know what she should do. Did she go against her morals of keeping young girls looking young or did she go full out to get the job? The cell service in the back was horrible.

Zoe went outside to get better reception. She headed over to the bridge for privacy and clarity. Lexi’s phone went straight to voice mail, so Zoe decided to finish her walk, then she’d try again. She wondered if her father had ever made it out here to check out the view. At any point now, Zoe expected a call from him to give the go-ahead to bring her mom back. It wasn’t like her mother didn’t know about the proposal. He did it every year, just in different places.

The summer sun felt good on her face. Freezing air conditioning blasted in Zoe’s station. It had to, in order to keep the girls from melting. Green leaves littered the walkway of the bridge over the lake. With everything there was to do this week, there hadn’t been a lot of time for long strolls over the water. A low limb of a weeping willow blocked part of the way. As she grew closer the clear sound of a conversation grew louder. Zoe hesitated and wondered if she should turn around or try to walk through the group talking.

“So, how did Will take it when he found out we’re backing his choice for the director by whomever he votes to win the pageant?”

Will? Zoe decided to stand still. Whoever was talking about Will—her Will—did not have a caring pitch to his tone. Through the leaves she spied three people: two men and a woman. All three had the height of the Ravens family. She wondered if these were some of the cousins Will warned her about.

“Charles, can you believe he told me and Dixon it was fine?” the woman said. She spoke as if her head were held high in the air, very snooty. “As if he has things under control. I can’t stand him.”

“Katie,” the man named Charles answered, clapping his hands together, “we are so close to being done with this company, once and for all. We just need to focus.”

“I promise you guys—forcing Will to choose this quickly is going to throw his game,” said the man Zoe guessed was Dixon.

“I can’t believe he has no idea we found Octavia.” Charles rubbed his hands together manically.

A row of hairs rose on the back of Zoe’s neck. Octavia Ravens? The missing heir?

“We’ll just keep her under wraps until after the final vote. Grandma will be upset with the company, but we’ll be the ones softening the blow when we bring our long-lost aunt home.” Charles chuckled. “Let Grandma’s favorite continue thinking he knows what he’s doing.”