Kade Smith stood in the corner of one of the smaller event rooms at the hotel, holding a glass of water in one hand and a cracker in the other. He felt so awkward at these things. When he signed the contract to play in the NFL for Atlanta, he’d thought he’d be playing football, and he did. He just also did a lot of media appearances and talk shows and stuff like this, judging pageants. Something about him being one of the youngest draft picks straight out of college and a record-breaking pass he’d thrown. He didn’t pay much attention to what they said about him—he just wanted to play ball.
“Another two hours, and this will all be over.” The woman who had introduced herself as Elaine came up beside him. She wore so much makeup, he wondered if she’d be able to wash it off or if she’d have to peel it like duct tape. He pegged her at about fifty, trying to look thirty. If he remembered right, she owned a cosmetics company, so he guessed that made sense.
“Two hours?” he replied. “That’s like, fourteen hours in dog years.”
She laughed. “I can already tell we’re going to have a lot of fun working together this week. I like your sense of humor.”
Kade grinned. “Why, thank you. Most people just roll their eyes.”
“Well, shall we go circulate? This is a mix and mingle, and we’re supposed to be getting to know the contestants.”
“Guess we’d better.” Kade popped his cracker in his mouth, chased it with the rest of his water, and threw his cup and napkin in the trash. He’d start at the right of the room and work his way to the left. Having a system was good.
He walked up behind the first young lady on the right. She wore a white sundress with a green sash crossing her chest, and she had really pretty dark hair. “Hello,” he said, and she turned around.
“Hello, Kade,” she replied.
He blinked. And then blinked again. He pressed his hand to his stomach because he felt like he’d been punched, and it was hard to draw a breath. “London,” he said at last. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“And I didn’t know you’d be here until I opened my registration packet a few minutes ago. Looks like we’re stuck with each other for a week. I guess we’ll have to make the best of it, huh?”
“Um, yeah, I guess we will.” Kade cleared his throat, trying to sound less squeaky. “So, you’re Miss Mint Julep.” He nodded toward her sash.
“Only for another month. Then I pass the title on.”
“Oh.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say, so he rocked back on his heels and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Miss Sweet Georgia Peach, huh?”
“Yep. Sure enough. And you’re in the NFL these days.”
“Yeah. It’s been good.”
“I’m glad.” She tilted her head slightly. “Would you like to go through the buffet line with me? I think we’re supposed to be getting to know each other right now.”
“That’s what one of the other judges was just telling me. But don’t you think we already know each other well enough?”
She laughed. “If you’re going to judge me based on knowing me in high school, I hardly think that’s fair. It was what—four years ago that we last saw each other? People change. Let’s eat cheese and crackers and talk it out.”
Kade wasn’t really hungry—being on public display always made him lose his appetite—but he nodded and followed her to the start of the line.
The caterers had put out tiny little glass plates, and they each took one. The tiny plates matched the tiny food—petit fours, finger sandwiches, bits of caviar on toast points. And of course, cheese and crackers. Kade noticed that London kept everything on her plate just a little separate and smirked—she’d done the same thing in high school. She hated it when her food touched. Drove the lunch ladies crazy.
They carried their plates off to the side so they wouldn’t hold up traffic, and Mayor Morgan wandered up to them. “Hello there, darlin’,” he said. “Miss Mint Julep, I’m the former mayor. I saw you chatting with our football hero here and figured this was probably the most interesting corner in the room.”
“I don’t know about that,” Kade protested. He’d heard that he was being called a football hero after he pulled the team out from under the threat of a crushing defeat, but he didn’t think that the term “hero” should be used so lightly. A soldier in Afghanistan, a lifeguard diving in to save a drowning kid—that was different. He just threw a ball around a field.
“Well, I’ll be the judge of that.” The mayor looked down at the tag he wore, identifying him as a pageant judge, and laughed. “No pun intended.”
London laughed as well. “It was a good one, sir,” she replied. “Might as well take credit for it.”
Kade all but rolled his eyes. A good one? No. It was horrible, as all puns are.
“I see that you helped yourself to some caviar, darlin’,” the mayor went on, looking at London’s plate.
“I have a secret,” she said, leaning in as though to whisper. When she spoke again, though, Kade could still hear it. “I hate caviar. I only eat it to make people think I’m fancy.”
Mayor Morgan laughed. “I can’t stand it either. I like your style, Miss Mint Julep. I’ll definitely consider you one to watch.” He gave her a smile and moved away.
Kade saw London smirk out of the corner of his eye. “You always did have a way with old men,” he said, turning back to her.
“Persons of the opposite gender and a generation or two older tend to find me charming,” she replied. “I can’t help it if I’m as cute as a button. Although, I don’t think buttons are necessarily cute, so I’ve never understood that expression.”
“Means you’ve been buying your buttons in the wrong places.” Kade picked up a petit four and popped it into his mouth. He only knew what they were called because of his mother—she’d read him the riot act when he’d called them “baby cakes” at a society tea.
“And where should I be buying my buttons?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“At a cute button shop, of course.” He glanced up and saw Elaine waving at him from across the room. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’m wanted over there.”
“Of course,” she replied, and he walked away, glad to have an excuse. London Russell, a blast from his past. A reminder of everything he’d once been. The only girl who had ever gotten under his skin.
The only girl he’d ever really had a crush on.
Right here, in this hotel, and they’d be together for a week.
Well, not together together. They each had their own responsibilities, and he’d be spending time with a lot of other girls too. But London made all the other girls fade into the background—she always had. It was her superpower. And she was his kryptonite.
“There you are,” Elaine said when he reached her side. “Kade, I’d like you to meet Miss Apricot Blossom. Well, her real name is Gina Malloy, but it’s just so much fun to call her Apricot Blossom.” Both women laughed, and Kade forced a chuckle. He could do this for a week. He just had to smile, look thoughtful, and make insightful comments. And maybe spend a little time with London, too, before fate pulled them apart again.
A few minutes later, there was a tapping on a microphone at the front of the room, and Mrs. Fitzpatrick, the founder of the pageant, asked for everyone’s attention. She was a classy-looking lady of probably about sixty. If it wasn’t for her no-nonsense attitude, she’d remind Kade of his grandmother.
“We’d like to welcome you all to this year’s Miss Sweet Georgia Peach pageant,” she said, and everyone clapped. “I hope you’ve had the chance to mingle and to meet our distinguished judges. They will be with you at each event throughout the week, and will even be evaluating your media interviews tomorrow. This way, they can see you in several different situations and get to know you better. This is a change from how we have done things in previous years, but we feel that it will be invaluable in helping the judges choose the very best representative for our program.”
Everyone clapped again, and Kade joined in to be polite. It reminded him a little bit of a State of the Union address or something.
“As you know, we pride ourselves on being one of the largest providers of scholarship funds in the pageant industry. We believe in rewarding our young ladies for their hard work by allowing them to continue their educations. I look forward to meeting with each of you and learning more about your college aspirations.”
Now that was something Kade could applaud. He was glad that at the end of the day, these girls would have something more substantial to take home than a ribbon and a crown full of fake diamonds.
Mrs. Fitzpatrick outlined the schedule for the rest of the week, and Kade allowed his eyes to wander the room—he’d already read the schedule. There were a lot of pretty girls here, but not one of them could compare to London. Not a single one. And that was part of what had made it so hard to forget her.