Page 7 of Small Town Sash

"And scholarships," Torrey pointed out. "Don't forget a lot of the girls do this for the scholarships."

"Well, I'm all for helping with scholarships," Braden said earnestly, trying to shake Hadley from his mind.

"Sure, if they had any talent worth rewarding," the newspaper owner stated snidely.

"Randy," Torrey scolded. "Don't be so sour."

Braden chuckled. "You're really not a fan of this, huh?"

"I've just been around enough to see the ugly side of beauty," Randy shrugged.

"This is going to be an interesting pageant," Torrey muttered under her breath.

Indeed, Braden thought, with Hadley being in the mix, it was shaping up to be much more than he had bargained for.

Chapter Three

Hadley's heels clicked rhythmically against the polished floors of the dress shop, a staccato echo to her racing heart. The array of pastel silks and chiffons in the room was a blur, but one figure stood out like a beacon. Candace Kealy, measuring tape in hand, was surveying her fashion empire with the confidence of a queen.

"Miss Kealy?" Hadley's voice wavered slightly, betraying her nerves.

Candace turned, her hazel eyes locking onto Hadley's blue ones. A slow smile spread across her face as she took in the beauty queen before her. "Hadley Wilder, right? I've seen you on those pageant stages."

"Thank you," she murmured, tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear. "I came by because I saw your last fashion show and decided I wanted something different for my evening gown this time around."

"Does your mother know about this?" Candace questioned with an arch of her eyebrow.

"You know about my mom?"

"Honey, everyone knows about your mom," the other woman told her with a smirk. "She's the stuff of stage mom legends."

"Don't I know it," Hadley grumbled with a frown. "But she won't care where I get the dress as long as it gets the job done, and I win my next crown."

"Well, I can guarantee that," the dressmaker told her with a firm nod. "I just had one of my latest creations featured in Marie Claire, so that should impress your mom enough to let you wear one of my gowns."

"Really? That's incredible," Hadley gushed with praise. "And for the record, I was going to wear one with or without her approval."

"Uh-huh, " Candace muttered, but the tone implied she didn't really believe Hadley.

"No, really. My mom thinks that she's in charge, but I'm the one entering these pageants. I choose to do this."

"Sure, sure, but honey," Candace reached out and placed her hand on Hadley's shoulder, "you should know you're more than just a sash and crown."

Hadley rocked back on her heels, surprised by the statement from the other woman, whose sole job was to drape women in gowns that made everyone look at them. Hadley was her ideal customer, needing a rotation of endless evening gowns and outfits for every new pageant. Why would Candace say something like that to her?

"Ever thought about what goes into these gowns?" Candace gestured around them, her movements bold and encompassing.

"Sometimes. But I'm not sure?—"

"Cut that doubt," Candace interjected, her tone firm yet playful. "You've got an eye, I can tell. How about you learn the ropes? Work with me on designing your outfits for this pageant?"

"Design...my own outfits?" Hadley's mouth fell open in surprise, her usual poised composure slipping.

"Yep. Get your hands dirty. Stitch some sequins. Might find out there's more to you than a perfect smile," Candace winked.

Hadley chuckled, the sound bubbling up from a place of genuine amusement. "That could be...incredible."

"Fantastic." Candace clapped her hands together, causing a few nearby mannequins to shudder. "Let's shake up the pageant world, one stitch at a time."

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