Snow Queen (10 page)

“You are so going to regret this,” Aubrey said.

“Please,” Layla said. “What are you going to do to me with all my friends around? Not to
mention my parents…my
brother
…You can’t touch me.”

“Oh, don’t you worry about it. I have moves you can’t even imagine,” Aubrey said. “Moves that take a little more creativity than what you just did.”

“Guys, come on,” Christie said with a nervous giggle. “Can’t we agree to stay out of each other’s way and just leave it alone? Keep the whole pageant fair and square?”

“No. I really don’t think we can, Christie,” Aubrey said.

Christie grabbed Aubrey’s arm and tugged her aside, pausing under a row of backstage lights. “Aubrey,
please
,” she begged in a whisper, her eyes desperate. “I’m fine. It was a stupid prank. I’m over it.”

“Yeah, but what if she doesn’t stop there?” Aubrey whispered back. “We can’t just let her get away with this.”

“But…what are you going to do?” Christie said worriedly. “And what if you get disqualified or something? You can’t leave me here alone with those girls.”

“I won’t. I promise,” Aubrey whispered. “It’s
not like I’m going to stoop to anything violent,” she said loudly, glancing over her shoulder at Layla. “Some of us have too much class for that.”

Layla pursed her lips at the insult and glanced at her friend. “Come on, Becks. She’s got nothing,” she said, walking toward the bathroom.

“Oh, you’ll see,” Aubrey replied. She had no idea what her retaliation plan would be, but she would come up with something. She had to. She had to defend Christie. “Just wait and see.”

That evening as Aubrey and Christie made their way through the lobby of the Chamberlain Resort, the place was buzzing with activity. Aside from the usual commotion of guests checking in, skiers gathering their gear, and porters hustling about with luggage, a camera crew was setting up in front of the roaring fireplace. A young reporter stood still as could be as a hairdresser and makeup artist flitted around her and a burly man placed his camera and lights. Half the snow princesses had gathered around the area, trying to get a better look at what was going on. Meanwhile, two men stood
atop two-story ladders, stringing a huge silver and white banner across the main entrance as Grayson’s mother stood below, directing them.

Aubrey had no interest in the camera crew, but once the banner was unfurled she stopped in her tracks.

“‘Tenth annual winter ball,’” she read. “What’s that?”

“Didn’t I tell you about that?” Christie asked.

Aubrey felt a thump of foreboding in her chest. Ever so slowly, she turned around to face her friend. “Another event you forgot to mention? What do I have to do for this one? Jump out of a cake in red lingerie or something?”

Christie laughed nervously. Aubrey could see that her friend’s hands were clutching the strap on her pink bag.

“No. Nothing like that. It’s just this formal dance the Chamberlains throw every year the night before the pageant,” she said. Then she ducked her head and walked by Aubrey toward the rotating door. “And all the pageant contestants are required to go,” she added under her breath.

“What? No!” Aubrey shouted.

A crowd of skiers glanced at her in a disturbed way as they passed by, headed for the elevators at the back of the lobby. Christie sighed, tilted her head, and turned around.

“It’s not that big of a deal. All you’ve got to do is show up with a date who will escort you into the room when your name is announced,” Christie said with a shrug.

Aubrey groaned and fell backward into one of the many overstuffed chairs that dotted the lobby. Her arms fell limp over the armrests and she tipped her head back to stare up at the huge wooden chandelier hanging overhead.

“Great. One more event to stress over and shop for,” she complained.

“What’s to stress?” Christie asked, sitting on the edge of the next chair and placing her bag on her lap. “You practically have a built-in date with Grayson.”

As if Christie saying his name had conjured him up, Grayson walked through the front door of the lobby, in deep conversation with an older man in gray coveralls. Aubrey’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of her supposed “built-in date.”

“Please. We haven’t even been on our
first
date yet,” she said, lifting her head. She bit her lip, imagining how mind-numbingly gorgeous Grayson would look in a tuxedo. She kept her eye on him as he and the older man crossed the lobby and walked back toward the resort’s offices. With everything going on in the vast lobby, Grayson didn’t see Aubrey, and she was able to watch him unabashedly. Grayson was gesturing emphatically and the older man kept nodding. When they turned the corner she saw that there was a patch on the back of his coveralls that read
ACE PLUMBERS
. “Do you really think Grayson will go with me?”

“Why wouldn’t he? He obviously likes you,” Christie replied. She looked down at her bag and toyed with the tassel on the zipper. “I wish I had a built-in date with Jonathan.” She lifted her dark eyes to look at Aubrey hopefully. “Do you think I should ask him?”

“Of course you should ask him,” Aubrey said. “What have I been saying all along? When you see an opportunity, you have to go for it.”

Just then, the cameraman flicked his lights on, effectively blinding her even from twenty feet away. It took a few seconds for the spots in
her vision to fade, but when they did, she saw that the young reporter was now interviewing none other than Layla Chamberlain, right in front of the camera.

“I understand that the grand prize for this event is quite a lot of money,” the reporter was saying.

“Yes, it is,” Layla replied, her smile all toothy and huge. “In fact, whoever wins the crown will take home a check for ten thousand dollars.”

The idea occurred to Aubrey like a flash, and every bone in her body tingled with the sheer brilliance of it. Before she knew it, she was on her feet, leaving a confused Christie behind. As Aubrey made a beeline for the fireplace, the reporter asked the exact question Aubrey needed her to ask.

“Wow. So what will you do with all that money if you win?”

Aubrey stepped up behind Layla, slipped her arm around the girl’s slim shoulders, and leaned in toward the microphone.

“Actually, my friend Layla here has decided that if she wins, she’s going to donate all the
money—every cent of it—to charity,” she announced.

Layla’s jaw dropped.

“Really?” the reporter asked. “And who might you be?”

“I’m Aubrey Mills, one of Layla’s fellow contestants,” Aubrey replied with a smile.

“Well, Layla, is what Aubrey says true?” the reporter asked.

Layla looked at the camera, her eyes wide. Aubrey knew what the girl was thinking. She couldn’t say that no, in fact, she had never said she would give the money to charity. If she did that she would look like a selfish jerk on camera. Aubrey had effectively trapped the girl. Now, if Layla did win, she would
have
to donate the money or everyone would think she had lied.

It was the perfect revenge for Layla’s attack on Christie. And so much more sophisticated than tying someone’s shoelaces together.

“Yes, Robia, it’s true,” Layla said finally, looking at the reporter. She swallowed so hard Aubrey actually heard it. “I’ve always thought that it was important for those of us who are more fortunate to give back to those who…
aren’t,” she added awkwardly.

“Isn’t she just the sweetest?” Aubrey said, giving Layla’s shoulder a squeeze. “Have a nice broadcast.”

Then she quickly backed away, removing herself from the camera’s glare and striding back toward Christie. The grin on her face was so wide she felt as if her cheeks were going to crack. Layla may have scored the first blow in this little war, but Aubrey’s blow had been much bigger. Ten thousand dollars bigger.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” Christie said, standing up as Aubrey grabbed her bag from the floor and kept walking.

“Believe it, baby,” Aubrey said, gloating. “This is war.”

T
hursday morning, Aubrey was up before the sun and out on the pond at the carnival grounds practicing her shooting skills. The night before, Jim had dragged an old hockey goal out of the basement of the inn and had helped her fashion her own target out of a paint-splattered tarp, so now she could really practice her precision. A few of the carnival workers even took a break to come watch, and some of them hooted and hollered when she made her last shot. She hadn’t hit all five holes in ten shots yet, but she was getting closer. She was certain that by the night of the competition, she would be able to blow all contenders off the ice.

Christie had just emerged from the shower, when Aubrey returned from the pond, but by the time Aubrey left the bathroom all blow-dried and
ready to go, Christie’s bed was already made, everything perfectly tucked and smoothed, and Christie was gone. Aubrey glanced at her own bed, a big, rumpled mess, and decided to deal with it later.

Grabbing her skates so that she could get in a bit more ice time after pageant rehearsal and before her skate date with Grayson, Aubrey skipped down the back stairs and into the Howells’ private kitchen. Christie was sitting with her back to the stairs, her hair pinned straight down her back, a bowl of oatmeal steaming in front of her.

“I am so going to win the hockey shootout,” Aubrey gushed, crossing the room noisily and dropping into the next chair. “You should have seen me out there this morning, Christie! I—”

“Shhhhh!” Christie hissed, looking grim.

Aubrey’s mouth snapped shut. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m trying to hear,” Christie whispered, glancing at the closed door that connected to the Howells’ office.

For the first time Aubrey heard the tense voices coming from inside, and she realized
with a start that one of the voices belonged to Grayson. She thought he had a nature hike this morning. What was he doing inside? And why did he and Rose and Jim sound so upset? Was he getting fired or something?

“Well, if you’re going to eavesdrop, then do it right,” Aubrey said, getting up out of her chair. She walked right over to the door and crouched down, putting her ear next to the old-school keyhole above the doorknob.

“Aubrey!” Christie hissed, her eyes going wide as she got off her chair. “Don’t!”

“Shhh!” Aubrey said, waving her hand. Christie froze and suddenly Aubrey could hear everything the Howells and Grayson were saying.

“…tried everything I could. They just won’t listen to me,” Grayson was saying. “They’re not going to back off.”

“It’s okay, Grayson,” Rose replied. “We know you’ve done everything you can.”

“Well, not everything.”

Aubrey heard the rustle of some paper and there was a pause.

“What’s this?” Jim said finally.

“It’s a check. I cleared out my savings,” Grayson told them. “I want you to put it toward the pipes. Or buying a new van. Whatever you want to use it for.”

Aubrey’s heart expanded inside her chest. She looked at Christie all gooey-eyed and Christie’s brow knit. “What?” she mouthed.

“He’s trying to give them money,” Aubrey mouthed back.

“What?” Christie asked again, confused.

Aubrey rolled her eyes. “Forget it,” she mouthed, trying to listen.

“No. Absolutely not,” Jim replied gruffly. “We won’t take charity.”

“It’s not charity,” Grayson replied. “Most of it is money you guys paid me anyway. Why don’t we just call it a refund for overpayment? Because you guys have been far too generous.”

“Grayson, you know we can’t take that,” Rose said gently. “Please. Put the check away.”

Grayson sighed. “I’m going to figure out a way to fix this.”

“No offense, son, but it’s not your place,” Jim said. “It’s our job to fix this. We appreciate everything you’ve tried to do, but now I think
you’d better go, unless you want to be late for your first hike of the day.”

Grayson cleared his throat, obviously chagrined. “Yes, sir.”

Aubrey heard steps nearing the door and jumped up. She grabbed Christie and practically flung her back into her chair. When the door opened, she was halfway seated in her own chair, her heart pounding a mile a minute. Grayson hesitated as soon as he saw that he had an audience. Aubrey glanced at him, feeling guilty, although she didn’t know why. It wasn’t her fault that the kitchen was adjacent to the office. Anyone else in her position would have tried to listen in. He closed the door behind him.

“Good morning,” Christie said cheerily. “Is everything okay?”

“Sure. Except that my parents are being totally unreasonable,” he said, his jaw clenched. He walked over to the table and pressed his fists into its surface. “The other day I put the winter carnival up on the schedule in the lobby and they freaked out on me when they realized. This morning it was gone again. I don’t know why we can’t just keep things the way they
were. It’s like they’re threatened by the Owl even though we’ve all been fine together for ten years.”

He blew out a sigh and collapsed forward, letting his forearms rest on the table and bowing his head. Aubrey felt more attracted to him than ever at that moment. He was so obviously emotional over this whole thing, and she loved that he had such a strong loyalty to the Howells. How had his jerky parents managed to raise one bitchy, shallow daughter and one totally upstanding son?

“I’m working another angle, but it’s still in the early stages,” he said, lifting his head and resting it atop his fist.

“What angle?” Christie asked.

“I don’t want to say until I know it’ll work. Don’t want to get your hopes up and all that,” Grayson said with a sigh. “I just wish there was something more I could do.”

“You could help Christie win the pageant,” Aubrey piped up.

Grayson’s eyebrows arched. “What?”

Christie blushed slightly. “I’ve already decided that if I win—”

“
When
you win,” Aubrey corrected, patting her on the back.

“Right,
when
I win,” Christie said, blushing even harder, “I’m going to give the money to my grandparents.”

“Wow.” Grayson stood up straight. “Christie, that’s amazing. But I’m not sure they’ll take it.”

“Yeah, I thought of that, but they’ve never been able to resist me when I really want something,” she said with a grin.

“Well, don’t tell anyone I said this—especially not Layla—but I hope you do win,” Grayson stated, reaching over to squeeze Christie’s shoulder. “If it means saving the Spotted Owl, I’m definitely in your corner. No offense, Aubrey.”

Aubrey grinned. “None taken. And you realize you could probably get fired for saying that, Mr. Assistant Director.”

Grayson pondered this with a tilt of his head. “True. But that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

He checked his watch and blanched. “Crap. I’m really late. I’ll see you later, Christie,” Grayson said, walking behind her toward the door. He paused next to Aubrey and leaned in close. “And I’ll see
you
for our date tonight, right?”

A tingle of excitement raced down Aubrey’s spine and she bit her lip to keep from shivering visibly. “I’ll be there.”

“I am completely impressed,” Grayson said, skating up next to Aubrey as she slowly but steadily made the turn at the north end of the lake that night.

“With what?” Aubrey asked, holding back a smile.

Grayson skated ahead, then turned around on his blades so he could glide backward and talk to her. “With you! You’re doing great. I would never know you’d never been on ice skates before this week.”

“Thank you,” Aubrey replied.

She knew all her hard work was paying off, but she liked to think that her new snow jacket and hat made her look more graceful as well. After her encounter with Grayson during her first trip to Tucker’s Ski Shop, Aubrey hadn’t been in the mood to try on snowsuits, so that afternoon she had gone back and purchased a royal blue jacket with navy accents that cut in toward the waist—the style gave her the illusion
of the curves she now knew she didn’t have. While she was there, Jason had offered to lend her the pants to go with it, which meant that she finally had a snowsuit for the pageant as well as an unembarrassing jacket to wear on her date. It not only kept her warm but also brought out the deep blue of her eyes. Topped off with a new white ski hat and gloves, Aubrey felt pretty out on the ice—pretty and steady and determined not to be the object of anyone’s laughter. At least not this evening.

It was a perfect, clear night—still no sign of snow—and the lake was jam-packed with skaters. A troop of little girls celebrating a birthday kept skating by hand in hand, all of them wearing pink crowns over their warm hats. A few middle-school boys were shooting a puck around at the center of the ice, their parents hanging out near the snack bar, nursing coffees. Everywhere Aubrey looked there were groups of teenagers, couples clutching each other, families out for a night on the ice. It was a cozy, convivial atmosphere, and she felt light and happy and couldn’t stop smiling.

She hadn’t even thought about Layla or the
threat to the Spotted Owl or her stupid song for the pageant once all night.

Grayson turned around again and slowed down so that he and Aubrey were skating side by side. She glanced up at his profile and her heart skipped a couple thousand beats. It was hard to believe that a guy that gorgeous was actually there with her. Standing around the lake or skating across its surface were dozens of beautiful Vermont ski bunnies and fresh-faced tourists, but Grayson had chosen her, the awkward tomboy from Florida who didn’t know how to dress for the weather. Did he still think she wasn’t pageant-worthy?

The thought made her breath catch and she decided not to dwell on that right now. Why go all negative during the most perfect date ever?

“Hey, there’s Christie and Charlie,” Grayson said, nodding toward the edge of the lake.

Aubrey glanced over and saw Christie and her cousin lacing up their skates. Christie was staring off to her right and Aubrey followed her line of sight to find Jonathan yukking it up with a group of his friends. Why couldn’t her best friend just get up the guts to ask the guy
out already? And why hadn’t Jonathan asked
her
out? Aubrey was sure he liked her. Maybe she should go over there right now and ask him what his problem was.

“Want to go say hi?” Grayson asked, sliding his hand into Aubrey’s.

Aubrey nearly tripped in surprise and Grayson quickly gripped her arm with his other hand to steady her.

“Whoa. That was a close one,” Aubrey said, embarrassed.

Grayson laughed and squeezed her fingers. “Why don’t we go get some hot chocolate and take a break?” he suggested.

“That might not be a bad idea,” Aubrey said, her ankles feeling wobbly after her near miss.

Grayson’s holding my hand!
she thought giddily.
Grayson is holding my hand!
If he was going to do that in front of all these people, he must really like her.

Trying not to smile too hugely, Aubrey clung to Grayson as they slowly skated toward the snack bar, on the opposite bank from where Christie was just moving onto the ice. Aubrey’s matchmaking plans would have to be put on
hold for now. She was too busy matching herself. And she was sure that if she asked Christie, she would agree that while on a date, she should concentrate on her date.

Grayson sat down on the first empty bench he saw and placed his plastic sleeves over his blades, then helped Aubrey put hers on. Together they toddled toward the snack bar line, which was full of middle-school kids all trying to figure out what they could afford with their allowance money.

“I can get popcorn, a small hot chocolate,
and
a chili dog,” one kid bragged to another.

“So not fair! Why did I buy those stupid ring pops before?” the other kid groused.

Aubrey caught Grayson’s eye and they tried not to laugh. The line moved ahead and they both stayed where they were, letting a bit of space open up between them and the boys.

“Ah, the problems of a sixth grader,” Grayson joked under his breath.

“Should we tell them that in a few years from now they’ll be trying to help bail out their employers from a hostile takeover by their own parents?” Aubrey joked.

The light went out of Grayson’s eyes and he looked down at the asphalt. “Yeah. Maybe not,” he said. “Wouldn’t want to tarnish their youth.”

Aubrey’s heart squeezed. Why did she have to say that? Obviously Grayson was all conflicted and upset about it. Totally not a date-night topic.

“Grayson, I’m sorry. I—”

“Hey! Mind if we cut in!?”

Out of nowhere, Layla appeared, dragging another girl with her and filling up the space in the line. Aubrey bit her tongue to keep from saying something rude. She had already trashed her date’s family enough for one night.

“Sophia?” Grayson blurted. Just like that, he dropped Aubrey’s hand.

Aubrey’s pulse seized up in her veins. In all her annoyance at Layla, she hadn’t even bothered to look at the girl she was with. Grayson had, though. And he was frozen in his tracks, his jaw hanging open.

“Sophia?” Aubrey repeated. As in, Sophia his ex-girlfriend, Sophia? The girl, tall and lithe with thick blond hair and clear gray eyes, was wearing a suede coat with a woolly collar
over a white turtleneck. She had perfect cheekbones, perfect skin, and perfect earlobes with huge diamond studs glittering from them. She blushed and looked at the ground before meeting Grayson’s gaze.

“Hey, Gray. It’s good to see you.”

“You too. What’re you doing here?” he asked. He reached out a hand as if to hug her or shake her hand or something, but then retracted it awkwardly. Sophia chuckled in an embarrassed way. Layla looked at Aubrey, a satisfied purse to her lips.

“I invited her to come up for the week,” Layla said, placing her hand on Sophia’s back. “She’s going to work on the pageant!”

She kept her eyes trained on Aubrey as she said this, and Aubrey knew with sudden clarity that this had been done for her benefit. When Layla had told her to stay away from Grayson, she had meant it—and this was her way of ensuring it would happen. Christie had told Aubrey that Sophia and Layla were best friends. Apparently Layla wanted to see her two favorite people get back together—and leave Aubrey out in the cold.