As the evening arrived under a cloudless sky, we wandered with everyone else toward the bandstand. The Fourth of July in Monterey concluded not just with fireworks and music, but with the crowning of Little Miss Stars and Stripes, a local pageant. My mother had kept me out of local pageants, saving me for the ones she felt could lead to bigger and better things. But the truth is, sometimes these local pageants can be the most fun. This one was loaded with sparkle and glamour, small-town pride, and just enough camp to make it fun.

Sophia huffed, “I still can’t believe you were engaged to a former Little Miss Stars and Stripes. A beauty queen—that should have told you something right there.”

Lucas was looking very uncomfortable.

“Was that Julie?” I asked.

As he nodded, Sophia told me, “She was a total twat.”

Lucas said, “For your information, Chloe was a beauty queen. Miss Golden State, right?”

Now I was the one blushing and looking uncomfortable.

“Seriously? Miss Golden State?” she asked, and I nodded. “Well, you don’t seem to be a twat.”

“I’m oddly flattered by that,” I replied, and she offered a smile.

Then someone tapped the microphone on stage, and we all turned to see a parade of cute little girls dressed up in their finest red, white, and blue dresses. As the crowd oohed and aahed, an official-looking man introduced the beginning of the annual Little Miss Stars and Stripes pageant, and asked us to please welcome the judges for this evening. The high school cheerleading coach, the owner of the local supermarket, and a former Little Miss Stars and Stripes.

“Speaking of twats,” Sophie muttered under her breath, and Lucas suddenly went as still as stone beside me.

“Please welcome back to town, all the way from Hollywood, where she can currently be seen in commercials for Mattress Giant, Julie Owens!”

General applause. Hissing from Sophia. Lucas had gone mute.

Oh, boy.

“What the hell is she doing here?” Sophia whisper-yelled.

The announcer said, “Former Little Miss Stars and Stripes Julie Owens is back in town to help us crown our next winner. As you know, we usually have our current Little Miss crown the new winner, but Becky Whippleson is recovering after a nasty accident involving a skateboard and Vespa scooter. We wish Becky a very speedy recovery.”

“So, she’s back just for this?” Sophia asked.

“She came back home just for this. Isn’t that wonderful, ladies and gentlemen? Leaving behind her booming career in Hollywood, she rushed back home to help us out,” the announcer said, sounding more and more like a game show host by the minute.

I looked onstage to see Julie, clad in a red sequin gown and a crown, waving to the appreciative crowd. Then I chanced a look up at Lucas, still frozen but taking it all in.

“I can’t believe she’s here. She better not stay for the fireworks, or I’ll have a bottle rocket with her name on it,” Sophia said, a little louder this time.

“Tell me, Miss Owens, will you be staying for the fireworks tonight? Helping us celebrate the Fourth?” the announcer asked, and handed her the mike.

“I sure will, Mr. Wilson. I can’t wait to celebrate our nation’s birthday with my family, and hopefully some old friends, here in my hometown!” Julie crowed, and the crowd cheered along with her and the rest of the Little Miss minions.

“Oh, for the love of—” Lucas rolled his eyes.

“Do you want to leave?” I asked in a low voice, leaning in so the rest of his family couldn’t hear.

He gave me a tight smile, then shook his head. “Nah, I’m good. Besides, I promised you fireworks.”

When he tucked me tight into his side, I let him. And we watched his ex-fiancée crown Little Miss Ah, Forget It.

And then came the fireworks. But the ones in the sky were dwarfed by what I now refer to as Big Dumb Mean Julie Fudging with My Fourth of July.

If I’d left my fiancé standing at the altar, which technically I did not do, and then came back into town unexpectedly, I would not deliberately seek out said fiancé and try to explain why I did what I did in front of his family.

If I ever ran into Charles and the rest of the Sappington clan, I’d be gracious, keep the chitchat to a minimum, and be on my way as fast as possible to minimize the emotional damage on either side. But you’re darn tootin’ that the first time I see Charles, it will not be in public. I’ll make sure it’s on our own terms, with us both coming to the table to talk and yell and scream in privacy.

Not how Little Miss Mattress Giant rolls. No, she made eye contact with Lucas during the pageant, and it was all she could do to stay on the stage, practically foaming at the mouth to get to him.

After she placed a crown on the new Little Miss, she thanked the crowd, did a weird little curtsy-wave, and practically steamrolled through the crowd to get to Lucas. He kept his arm firmly around my shoulders. For not dating, our shoulders sure seemed to be getting some play. Nevertheless, I stayed.

“Lucas!” she cried out, running through the crowd like she was auditioning for a Nicholas Sparks movie. And for the record, Julie Owens was beautiful. Tall and curvy, with long blond hair and bouncing boobs. She was your All-American California Girl. I’d been told I was the All-American California Girl. But where I got comparisons to Christie Brinkley, she’d be better compared to Pamela Anderson.

I hated her on sight. She might be the nicest person in the world, but she’d hurt him, so I hated her. And she was now hugging Lucas, with her bouncing boobies, so I hated her.