Page 52

Haddy

“ W ho says you can’t be a beauty queen and a scientist?” My best friend, roommate, and cousin Gigi Bradford slides the clippers over the curly coat of a tall golden doodle secured in a large, empty tub.

As soon as the envelope appeared in our mailbox, I snatched it and ran to her small grooming studio in our converted she-shed behind the house we share in LA.

I didn’t want to open it alone, which is silly, I know. It’s just a check in an amount that will cover my entire tuition, room, and board for my next semester of graduate school. Still, my fingers tremble as I carefully unfold the check printed on green paper and read the dollar amount.

A letter with a gold embossed “Congratulations, Princess!” across the top is also enclosed.

“It’s kind of… embarrassing.” My voice lowers as I recall Dr. Warwick’s face when I told him why I wouldn’t be returning as his graduate assistant in the fall.

“Why are you embarrassed?” I watch the ginger dog-curls fall to the floor of the tub as Gigi continues. “ It’s simple genetics, same as in the dog world.”

“Don’t say it…”

“You’re just like your mother.”

“You said it.” I fall back against the porcelain-tiled countertop.

My cousin pauses, cutting her green eyes at me. “Stop being a drama queen. Your mom is a meteorologist, which is why you love science, and your grandmother was Miss Georgia World. You’re a natural for the nerdy International Princess Scholarship Woman. It’s in your blood.”

“So you’re saying I’m bred for it?”

“Yep!” Gina puckers her lips, talking in a baby voice as she rubs both of her hands on the golden doodle’s happy face. “You sure are! Those silly scientists should understand. It’s in your DNA.”

It’s annoying, but I should accept that as a dog breeder, groomer, trainer, and judge in championship dog shows, this is how my cousin views the world.

I have a pedigree. My family excels in science and pageants with ridiculous names that pay a lot of money.

“It’s dumb.” I frown at the large check. “For a program that awards millions in scholarships every year, I don’t understand why they have to have the word princess in the title. It’s demeaning. They should just call it International Scholarship Woman.”

“But they give you a crown?” She tilts her head, glancing up at me.

“Yes.”

“And you wear it at events along with an evening gown and a sash.”

I exhale a heavy sigh. I can’t argue. Such commitments do come with the title.

“Some women like to be princesses.” Gina straightens, picking up a pair of sharp scissors.

“My professors are so confused.” I fold the check and slip it into my pocket. It’s too big for mobile deposit, so I’ll have to make a special trip to the bank. “Calling me a princess only makes it weirder.”

Gigi pushes a lock of strawberry blonde hair behind her ear and leans closer to trim the dog’s whiskers. “Your dad is the one who should be confused. He has plenty of money to cover all your bills. You don’t have to keep doing these pageants.”

“No.” I shake my head determinedly. “I’m paying my own way. If I keep taking money from them, I’ll always be a spoiled nepo-baby. No one will ever take me seriously.”

Gigi cuts her green-hazel eyes at me. “I’m pretty sure your mom married Uncle Hen because of that same independent streak. She understands you better than you think.”

My lips twist and I look at the woman smiling back at me from the cover of the pageant brochure.

Unlike my sleek, straight dark hair, hers is wavy and blonde.

It’s perfectly coiffed, and she’s wearing a white, strapless dress with a red and white striped sash that reads International Princess Woman .

“Whatever.” I shake it all off. “Winning this means I’ll be able to finish my labs without having to worry about money. I’ll happily pivot, hold, smile, and wave all day for that privilege.”

“And ride on the Welcome Back float in the parade tomorrow.” The screen door slams as my other cousin and third roommate Maverick Murphy enters the room. “We’re rolling out at 10 a.m. sharp.”

Gigi puts the scissors aside and unhooks the dog’s leash. “We’re just happy to be your ladies in waiting. Aren’t we, Haze?”

“Somebody named a dog Haze ?” Mav’s dark brows furrow. “He’s not even purple.”

“ Her name is Some Like it Hot Hazel, but I call her Haze for short.”

“What the fuck?” Mav goes to the cabinet and opens the door, digging around. “What dog is going to come to Some Like it Hot Hazel ? Here, Some Like it Hot Hazel!” He pretends to call the dog, who doesn’t even move. “Dog breeders are nuts. ”

“What are you looking for in my supplies?” Gigi lifts the large dog out of the grooming pen.

“I need to borrow your good tweezers.” He takes out the stainless-steel implements. “I’ve got something stuck in my blade.”

“Maverick, no.” Gigi reaches over his shoulder in an attempt to grab the tool. “I can’t afford to have you break those. They cost two hundred dollars!”

“I can afford to replace them.” He dodges her arms.

Gigi is five-eight like me, but Mav is six-two and wily. I shake my head at them wrestling like we used to do as kids as I head for the door.

It’s true, my cousin makes enough money playing hockey for the LA Champions he doesn’t have to live with us. He just likes the company—and driving us crazy.

“I’ve got to finish grading papers. See y’all in the morning.”

“Wave pretty,” Maverick calls after me, and I wave my middle finger at him over my head. “That’s my Queen. I’m so proud.”

“Just like your mom,” I yell back.

Mav’s mother, our aunt Dylan, actually cried when she discovered her only son is the best hockey player in the southern region. She tried so hard to guide him into the “safe sport” of golf.

He was heavily recruited all over the country and chose LA to drive us crazy.

Gigi and I share an adorable two-story bungalow with four bedrooms and two bathrooms in the best part of Los Feliz. We weren’t looking for a roommate, but with the cost of everything these days, we were glad to have another person to split expenses.

He was more than happy to move in with us, especially since we all basically grew up like siblings. Say what he wants, Mav’s a total family guy.

“I’ll bring the purple drink!” Gigi shouts after me, and I snort a laugh.

Purple drink is a New Orleans concoction made of purple Kool-Aid and Everclear. It’s been in our family since before we were born, so of course, we ran off with the recipe as soon as we turned twenty-one.

“Purple drink before ten in the morning?” I turn, pushing the door open with my back.

“Our mammas raised us right!” she replies with a wink.

If we’re going to have purple drink tomorrow morning, I definitely have to lock up in my bedroom tonight. I’ll possibly be out for two days, and these finals won’t grade themselves.

“Why is it so cold?” I stand at the back of the line of cars with Maverick’s coat around my shoulders. “September is supposed to be one of the best times to visit LA!”

“Talk to your mom,” Gina quips.

“She’ll just blame global climate change.”

Maverick shoves a red Solo cup into my hand. “More purple drink. It’ll warm you up.”

“Hold it a second.” I smooth my dark hair behind my shoulders before placing the crown on my head. “Help me pin this, Geeg.”

“Hold Haze’s leash.” She passes the sparkling strap to me before taking the hair pins.

Under Mav’s bright purple and black team jacket I’m wearing a sequined white dress with black accents to match the Champions’ jerseys.

My International Princess Woman sash is in place, and a helper is holding an oversized bouquet of white and black roses for me to hold.

“Where do you get black roses?” Gina squints at the bouquet. “Will you be able to hold those and the safety bar?”

“Of course.” I take the Solo cup from Mav. “This isn’t my first rodeo.”

Or pageant parade.

“Hurry up—it’s almost time.” He nods at my cup.

I take a big gulp, pulling my chin back as I swallow. “How much Everclear did you put in this, Gigi? You’re not supposed to be able to taste it.”

“Mav made it. I had a doggy emergency last night.”

My blue eyes widen at Mav. He got a maniacal grin on his face as he nods, sticking out his tongue. “Extra strength, Queenie!”

He takes another big gulp as my stomach drops.

I’m about to fuss at him about how as a representative of the International Princess Woman Scholarship Program, I can’t be drunk on a float, when a lady on a bull horn announces all riders take their place.

I’m already feeling the effects of too much grain alcohol when I take my first step up the short flight of stairs to the platform that will carry us through the crowd of fans lining the streets.

“Why didn’t you warn me?” I hiss as I stow Mav’s jacket behind the decorated podium I’ll hold as I wave. “What’s a doggy emergency anyway?”

Gigi arranges my skirt then positions Hazel and her own show dog, a white standard Poodle she calls Spanky—short for Spank My Bottom—at her side.

“One of the breeders had a breakdown. It might’ve been related to her messy divorce.” Gigi makes a worried face. “We’re fostering a dog for the next few weeks.”

Before I can argue that we said no more fostering dogs , the attendant shoves the massive bouquet of roses in my arms.

“Hold these over your shoulder…” He proceeds to push my hair behind my back again. “Then hold this strap around your wrist.”

“I need something sturdier than a strap.” I’m still speaking as the guy walks to the edge and hops off the float. “Wait—I’m in three-inch heels!”

Not to mention I’ve had two cups of extra-strength purple drink.

The guy doesn’t look back as he blends into the crowd of organizers preparing to roll .

Gigi steps closer. “Grab my arm if you get wobbly.”

“And throw these flowers everywhere? They’re heavy!” For a reason called purple drink and the lingering, horrifying memory of dog vomit from our last foster pet, I want to sit down right here and cross my arms. “Who is this foster dog, anyway?”

“Oh, she’s the cutest little thing!” Gigi smiles enraptured. “She’s a little teacup poodle named Princess Petunia. You’ll love her. She’s practically made to be your pet!”

“I don’t want a pet. Where is she?”

“She’s at the house.” Gigi’s eyes narrow. “Are you okay? You’re swaying, and we haven’t started moving yet.”

She’s right. I didn’t eat breakfast, and it feels like the float is already rolling.

“Hey, ladies!” Maverick waves at us from where he stands at the side of the float. “I want y’all to meet my new teammate. He’s going to be staying at the house a few days while he finds his own place.”

“Maverick!” Gigi’s voice is loud and cross. “We didn’t discuss this first!”

“You’re one to talk.” I’m still cross about our surprise foster-dog. “If this one barfs in my bed?—”

“You’re going to love her,” Gigi snips.

Our cousin waves over a big guy with shaggy brown hair, then he holds out a red Solo cup to him as he hustles up to give Mav a bro-hug.

“That’s my man!” Maverick is still yelling, pointing at the guy whose back is turned.

The lady is on the bullhorn again, telling us all to take our places.

Doing my best to shake off this buzz, I roll my shoulders back and adjust my posture. The float does a sharp lurch forward, and I wobble on my heels, jerking hard on the strap.

“Whoa…” It’s a low yell, and Gina grabs my hand.

“Are you okay?”

“Yo, Queenie, Maid Marion, over here!” Mav is yelling, and now his arm is looped around the new teammate’s shoulders. “I present to you the famous Gavin Knight! ”

The tall fellow lifts his square chin. Emerald green eyes blink up to mine, and when they clash, cold water surges through my bloodstream.

It’s followed quickly by fire.

He’s standing there, all six-foot-three, broad shoulders, rounded biceps, square jaw with that dimple right in the middle of his cheek. Full lips part over straight white teeth, and my stomach dips.

I’m frozen as my mind tumbles back through college days in North Carolina, Chapel Hill, my roommate Karen crying her eyes out on the sofa because the man she loved, the man she left her small-town Georgia home to follow to college was sleeping with every girl in the Tri-Delta sorority house.

I don’t know when he changed his name to Gavin, but Lane Knight is the most notorious playboy I’ve ever met. He has the body of a god and the heart of a villain.

“No!” My voice is sharp, and I release the strap, taking a step in the direction of my cousin.

I guess purple drink makes me think I’m going to do something to stop this right here in the middle of a parade in my dress, crown, and full pageant regalia.

“Not him!” The float starts to move, and the words morph into a scream as I throw white and black roses into the air.

Spanky lunges forward, dragging Gina with him, as if he’ll rescue me, but it’s too late.

Nothing is going to stop me as I fly through the air—nothing except the rock-hard chest of the world’s biggest jerk, who I vowed to my college roommate I’d never speak to again.

With an oof! I land, Cinderella-style in his arms.

He has the nerve to catch me.

“Well hello, Hayden.” The man I knew as Lane dips his chin, grinning at me like the player he is. “Nice of you to drop in. I hear we’re going to be roommates.”