Disastrously Fabulous: A Novel of Loves, Betrayals and New Beginnings by D.A. Prince Read Free Book Online Page B

about highs—high energy, high excitement, high heels and high platforms.
    The backstage smelled of powders, foundations and antiperspirants. Nervous titters mingled with mumbled speech rehearsals and small squeals as girls panicked about a missing lipstick or loose stitches on the hem of their dress.
    One of my sisters, Salome, arrived in the audience to give me support, holding a gigantic printed sign with my face on it! The evening was a blur of movement, queues and spotlights.
    My modeling experience came in handy, and I struck the right poses at the right time. Then it was my turn for the speech. “I only want to make the world a better place, and I believe that is best achieved by changing one mind at a time.”
    The crowd loved me, though I couldn’t fathom why. I left the stage to greet the horrified faces of the girls waiting off stage and to a thunderous applause that trailed behind me like smoke. All that remained was the judging now. If the girls belatedly saw me as a threat, they were too late to sabotage my eyelash tongs.
    We all filed out on stage, a centipede of long, shining legs in clicking heels. “And now, for the crowning of your new Miss Jamaican American, please welcome…” Flashes of light littered the crowd as a tall, gorgeous woman glided onto the stage in a sparkly dress of blue sequins. She was holding a large gem-encrusted crown.
    Two other women joined her on stage with lesser crowns—the runners up. I remember breathing it all in—the energy from the crowd, the nerves of the women around me, the lights, the bustling world behind the curtains on stage. I didn’t expect to win. I didn’t expect to place anywhere. I had joined the pageant on a whim.
    “Second princess…. Crystal!” the announcer said, and my name blossomed from his lips. I heard my name, but it was only when the girls on either side of me started to usher me down that I realized what had happened. Winning as second princess was a great, unexpected honor. They put a crown on my head and gave me the biggest bunch of flowers I ever held. Later on, I discovered that they also gave me the Photogenic Trophy. I was very humbled and fortunate.
    My looks took me places like that, without any effort. I believed I was something special because my great looks brought me success.
    That same evening, I met a young lawyer named Mr. Brockston, who was one of the pageant sponsors. Good thing too, because he saved me more than once from the law and the stupidity of youthful impulses. Being a model was great, but it didn’t pay well unless you were a super model. After I won a crown at the pageant, the pressure got that much worse.
    I needed to be stunningly gorgeous, all the time, and that included wearing the latest designer gear which I couldn’t afford on the earnings from my modeling and temp job.
    Good thing I knew ways to get clothes by methods other than paying the full price. But before long, this landed me in trouble.
    The shop’s security guards stopped my friend and searched our bag, revealing three designer tops and a pair of gold earrings—damning evidence. My good looks didn’t help, and my charm was wasted on those men.
    Luckily my pageant attorney friend Mr. Brockston arrived at the police station to sort things out. He even represented us in court and got us off on a light sentence.
    I got three years’ probation as a first offender, and a $300 fine. At the time I was thoroughly outraged, but things could have been a lot worse. I could have gone to jail. It would have ruined my entire life—for what? Three average tops and fake gold earrings.
    That was a wake-up call for me.
    I decided to kick the boosting habit. Aside from the embarrassment of being caught, I had risked my freedom and my future—two things I couldn't afford to lose.
    Now I had to juggle my modeling and temp work with probation meetings, like a circus clown trying to keep many balls in the air at once.
    For all of my posturing and good looks, my