A Tiara Under the Tree

“I don’t want to get grease on you and your white outfit,” said Dominic. He dipped his head down and kissed the tip of her nose. “Hang on.” He slipped into the bathroom and soaped up.

“It’s cream. And what if I wanted you to grease me up?” Waverly teased.

Dominic cast a glance over his shoulder. Waverly bit her bottom lip. Any ounce of worry disappeared the moment Dominic’s hands cupped her face and he pressed his lips against hers. “I missed you,” Waverly breathed.

“You look thin,” said Dominic, pulling his arms around her waist. Waverly loved being in this spot. If possible, she’d stay here forever.

“I haven’t been away from you that long.”

“If you say so. What have you been up to?”

“I’ve been with my mother on a marathon push to garner support for the runoff this week.” Waverly pressed her hands against the buttons of his dark blue coveralls. “What car have you been working on? I didn’t see anything out there.”

“The twins helped with the cars for the parade, so they’ve moved out of here.” Dominic nodded and stepped backward. “I just sold the Packard.”

A cracking sensation gripped Waverly’s heart. Images of Dominic’s rain-soaked skin flashed through her mind like a series of lightning strikes. “What?”

They both had the same thought about the old vehicle. As unromantic as it might sound to others, the Packard held sentimental value. Dominic nodded. “I couldn’t pass up the offer.”

Waverly managed to nod. This was his profession. He rebuilt cars and sold them to the highest bidder. “I understand.”

“No, you don’t.” Dominic chuckled and tipped her chin up. Behind him, his phone buzzed from the top of a stack of papers. He stepped back to grab it and swiped the phone, then cursed. “I’m going to kill whoever is doing this.”

Waverly stepped over to the Dominic’s desk. “What?”

He held the phone for her to see. Another meme. This one was from the cookie contest at the local elementary school. Someone took a photograph just outside the cafeteria when Dario and Darren grabbed Anson and Dominic’s hands were still around the mayor’s throat. Waverly’s hands were trying to pry betwe

en them on one side of the scuffle and Vera stood on the other with her hands over her face. The caption read Beauty Queen Knockout and changed Waverly’s jacket to a Pink Ladies jacket and swapped the boys’ tops for black T-shirts with T-Birds written on the back.

“This is crazy,” Waverly said, seething. “Now they’re dragging you guys into this?”

“I don’t recall anyone being outside,” said Dominic. “Not that I’m excusing my actions.”

“Everyone was inside.” Waverly chewed her bottom lip. Her heart pounded in her ears as Dominic stared at her. She feared his next words. Getting his brothers involved in her drama was inexcusable. They didn’t ask to be brought into this. Like beauty pageants, colleges held their students to a code of ethics outside campus. Waverly had seen enough news reports about fraternity brothers behaving badly and getting kicked out of school. She’d placed the twins’ educations in jeopardy. “Dominic, I’m so sorry. Your brothers must hate me. Tell Dario and Darren I’ll talk to their school board and explain everything. This isn’t their fault,” she rambled, but Dominic came over and cradled her in his arms.

“Waverly, I’m not worried about their school and neither are they.”

“They should be.” Waverly sobbed into his chest as he stroked her hair.

“Waverly, you have a stalker.”

Blood cold, Waverly stopped crying. Panic set into her system. Images of murder victims flashed through her mind, with cut-out magazine letters pasted in cryptic words next to their lifeless bodies. She blinked in disbelief. Surely she would know if she had a stalker. She had no letters, no cut-off Barbie doll heads. “Oh, please, this is probably one of Vera’s tricks”

“Except Vera is in the photos with you for a few of these.”

“I’m not going to be scared into giving up my spot. I’ve come too far,” Waverly vowed.

* * *

“With everything going on, are you sure you want to do this?”

Waverly glanced up from the makeup chair backstage of the Trustees Theater in Savannah and glanced into the mirror at Zoe Baldwin, now creative design director at Ravens Cosmetics, slipping her blush brush into the front pocket of her smock. Titus did not work out for Ravens and the company had to let him go. Last Waverly heard, he was doing makeup web tutorials. The engagement ring on Zoe’s left hand blinded Waverly for a moment and reminded her that one day she hoped to have a rock like that. A streak of jealousy washed over Waverly. She wanted to be engaged. She wanted to marry Dominic one day. And she was sure he wanted to marry her. So she had, what? Two more years, if things went according to plan?

“Everything I’ve worked for,” Waverly began, “all starts here.”

Mayor Anson insisted that, since she represented Southwood, he needed to be at the runoff. He stood in the doorway with a dozen roses. “Yes, I understand.” Anson nodded, but Waverly didn’t believe him. “And I want you to know if you don’t win today...”

“Excuse me?” Waverly and Zoe, as well as Jillian from her corner of the dressing room, chorused. Jillian set her magazine down and crossed the dressing room in her gold jumpsuit like she’d walked the stage back in the day.