Page 67 of Beaches, Bagels & Babes
“Go on,” she encouraged. “I don’t want him to send some health department friend of his to the studio for a surprise visit. Hold on.” Smooth as a stagehand, Demi fixed Candace’s blazer so that the Bagel Bombs! tank top was plain to see. “You’re right. If this is what you want, don’t back down.”
Standing tall, Candace sucked in a final bracing breath. Then, she made her way over to the man who could ruin her with a handwave.
Candace noticed that Uncle Perry’s lifestyle was catching up to him. From the pictures she saw, he was once handsome; it was from his side that she’d inherited her full blonde locks, her height, and face that had been asked to model. Now, though, he was an example of what not to do.
After decades of living in a shore town, refusing to wear “fake liberal” sunscreen, he looked like old jerky stuffed into ill-fitting, designer clothes. Excessive alcohol and rich foods he indulged in during his social outings had not helped either. The spray tan he used to try and even out his skin’s blotchiness showed on his suit collar like he was an actor. Or a clown, with his poof of thinning, comb-over hair.
It was ridiculous. Uncle Perry expected everyone to look at him like he was an Adonis, and they would becausemoney. To Candace, he looked like a hot dog at a funeral. The thought gave her courage to keep her chin raised as she came up beside him, despite the menace he exuded.
“Thereyou are, Candy!” He looped a thick arm around hershoulders and jerked her closer. “I was starting to think my niece abandoned me!”
The group he was speaking to were unfamiliar to Candace. They were all well-dressed, put-together people, but there was something plastic-y about their appearance. Their greetings were bright and fake, like morning news TV hosts.
Candace forced an apology, saying, “Sorry, Uncle Perry. I had to use the restroom and ran into a friend.”
“You’ve always been such a social butterfly.” He gave her shoulder a not-so-gentle squeeze. “I’ve been waiting to introduce you to these nice people…”
Candace’s guard raised even higher. These “nice people” were from a conservative think tank that was connected to several dark money investment groups. They threw the names out quickly, expecting her not to know them, and she gave no indication to prove them wrong. If her uncle was getting involved with this group, it could not mean anything good. They eyed her with suspicion, giving her outfit obvious appraisal.
A man with a flop of dull brown hair and a checkered bow-tie gave Candace an overly enthusiastic grin with his too-bright shark teeth. “The Pier Princess herself! Your uncle has been telling us a lot about you. Faith and family are beautiful things, yours is an example for the rest of us.”
“Er, yeah. Thanks.”
Candace could not remember the last time she stepped foot into a church or talked to family outside of her uncle.
“The Lord tests us with adversity,” he droned on as his companions nodded like bobbleheads. “The tragic death of your mother, an alcoholic, unavailable father… It’s a miracle that you had your uncle to step in and keep you on the right path. Denying the devil is a full-time job for a Godly woman.”
Again, Candace forced out a thank-you despite her rolling nausea.
“It’s been a long road with a few bumps,” Uncle Perry said with gravitas. “But family stands together, and that’s whattonight is about. If you’ll excuse us, it’s about time.”
Time? Time for what?
Candace’s uncle steered her away from the God Squad and started walking them towards the stage. The band had stopped playing, and a man—Tim Burgson—was standing front and center holding a microphone.
While Tim introduced himself, Candace demanded in a hushed voice, “What was that about? What’s going—”
“How dare you?”Uncle Perry’s vise grip on her shoulder rent divots that would surely bruise. They stood at the bottom of the stage steps, hidden from general view by a thick, red velvet wing curtain. His eyes bore into her as he hissed, “I turned around and you were gone, cozying up with that Greek tart. You made me look like a fool.”
“Don’t talk about my friend that way. You never said you expected me to be glued to your side all night.”
“Listen here: you don’t have ‘friends.’ You have peopleIallow you to see, and I think it’s about time I remind you of that. I’ve let you make a scene with that Bagel Bitch for too long.”
“No,” Candace begged. Impossible-to-hide terror leached into her voice. “Please, leave her alone.”
“Why should I? She’s nothing. A depressed, low-class loser with no prospects. I won’t let you tie our name to that filth.”
“You’re wrong. The renovations, all of our hard work… It’s going to pay off. Daisy is going to meet that dumb lease clause, and then—”
“Then?” Uncle Perry sneered down at Candace, looking at the Bagel Bomb! tank top with particular disdain. “No. There’s no ‘then.’ First, I call my friends at the health department. Cooking out of her own kitchen? I’m sure there are violations and, if not, they’ll find some. Next, I’ll handle those disgusting social media posts with the same company I pay to take care of the pier’s online presence. Your pages will be down in a day. I’ll make it my mission to destroy that cafe, its brand, and anything else that urchin attempts to accomplish—unless you do what I say.
“Just remember, you asked for this. Now, smile and act fucking grateful.”
A numbness spread throughout Candace as her uncle hauled her on stage. They stood behind Tim Burgson with fake grins plastered on their faces while the man introduced them.
It was gag-inducing fluff. Tim presented an aggrandized caricature of Peter Perry, a “visionary entrepreneur” and “Wonderwood’s wacky uncle.” You’d think the man built the boardwalk plank by plank himself, rather than the real story of buying an already-developed fishing pier and dumping some carnival games onto it.
Then, Tim’s introduction got personal. He talked about Candace, echoing the God Squad’s tone, talking about her like she was Little Orphan Annie. How her uncle swept in like a white knight to save her back then, raised her despite Candace being a rebellious, “confused” youth. And, now, he was seeing to her future.
