“Don’t forget to call Blake,” I remind Paige when we get home.
“Oh, that’s right. Fashion direction.” She pauses to study me. “You decided on the Ralph Lauren dress, right? The nautical one?”
“Yeah. You called it my little sailor dress, remember?”
“It looked great on you.”
“Well, at least it was comfortable.”
She nods. “Okay, I know just what Blake can wear. We’ll keep it sweet and simple. Khakis, a pale-blue-and-white-striped oxford shirt—preferably Ralph Lauren—and topsiders.”
I smile like I care, then go to my room, where I’d like to take a fashion break and print out some of the desert photos I took yesterday. But I’ve barely started when Lionel calls. “Hey, I saw you called a couple times,” he says. “What’s up?”
I quickly explain my need for a date, and before I can tell him that I already asked Blake, he is volunteering. “I should be home by five,” he tells me. “Give me an hour and I can be—”
“Sorry,” I interrupt. “I was kind of desperate, you know, so I called Blake.”
“Blake?” His voice sounds stiff.
“I know that probably seems pretty random.”
“A little.” He sounds slightly hurt.
“Well…when you couldn’t go to the desert with me, and I knew my mom would be mad if I went alone, and Mollie wasn’t around, well, I kind of asked Blake to go. And then when you weren’t around for the party, I just—”
“You don’t have to explain, Erin.” He sounds formal.
“I know. But you’re my friend.”
“Right. And I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”
“It’s okay!”
“And I hope you’re not getting in over your head with Blake.”
Part of me wants to question what he means by this, but another part says let it go. And anyway, I can pretty much guess what he means. “Sorry about the miscommunication,” I say. Then to change the subject I ask him about his ski trip, but he tells me that he’s just getting into traffic and probably shouldn’t be on the phone, and so we hang up. And then I feel guilty, but I’m not even sure why.
“You guys look great,” Fran says as the four of us pile into the limo—a real limo this time.
“Thanks,” Paige tells her. “With Erin and Blake I was going for more of a preppy-ingénue look. Sort of yacht club. And Addison and I are more like the islands…maybe Jamaica, don’t you think?”
“This is why we love you, Paige.” Fran nods approvingly at Addison’s white shirt, linen pants, and sandals. The perfect complement to Paige’s off-white dress with embroidered birds and flowers. When she had first held this dress up on a hanger, I thought she was kidding. But when I saw it on her, I knew it was perfect. And fortunately, the weather has been dry and unseasonably warm today, just right for a beach party. If this really were a party. I have to keep reminding myself that it’s not—it’s work. As if to drive that point home, we begin wiring ourselves for sound.
“Our camera crew won’t be allowed access within the party,” Fran tells us as we fiddle with our mics and wires. “But like the other night, you’ll get as much time with them as you want outside of the party. Unfortunately, they probably won’t want you hanging outside though, since this is supposedly a surprise party.” She laughs. “Like Mia doesn’t know.”
“Does Mia know we’re coming?” I ask.
Fran just shrugs. “Hard to say. It was their producer who extended the invitation. Anyway, all four of your names should be on the list. The best plan is probably to head in there and then, later on, see if you can lure anyone outside for the sake of our cameras.” She looks to me. “You did a great job with that last time, Erin.”
“Most of them were more than willing once they realized they might be seen on our show too,” I tell her.
Next, Fran preps the guys for what’s in store, and tells them to just be themselves. “Don’t let those kids intimidate you. But don’t be camera hogs either.” She chuckles. “Just because you’re at a Malibu Beach party does not mean you’re going to be instant stars. Most likely you’ll end up on the cutting-room floor.”
Suddenly it’s time to get out and I’m feeling seriously nervous. Despite Paige’s noble plan to win Mia over, I realize that tonight’s “party” could be even more challenging than the last one.
“Have a good time,” Fran says as we get out of the limo.
“This is so fun,” Blake tells me as he takes my arm.
I lower my voice, shielding my mic. “Oh, and just FYI—there’s a lot of drinking at these parties…”
He shrugs. “I don’t plan to get caught up in that.” As the camera crew comes closer, he puts on his Hollywood smile. “But I don’t mind getting caught by the cameras.”
I consider warning him that with Paige leading the way, there’s not much chance the cameras will be interested in us. But, hey, why spoil his fun? I must admit that it’s kind of reassuring to have him with me tonight. And even if he’s just using me as his opportunity to grab fifteen minutes of fame (more like fifteen seconds, and that’s if he’s lucky) I suppose I’m kind of using him too, but it’s in a friendly way…I think.
Chapter 13
We give our names to security at the front door and enter the house with Paige and Addison leading the way. This house isn’t as enormous as the New Year’s location, but it’s equally impressive. We’ve been told to go inside since the house is also the entryway to the beach party, which is actually contained within a cordoned-off area of the beach with even more security posted all around. Apparently anything regarding the Malibu Beach show is a high security risk. Whether it’s a fear of being mobbed by crazed fans or mugged by enraged parents sick of the influence of teen reality shows is anyone’s guess.
We’re not even clear through the house yet, and it’s plain to see that we’ve made this “surprise” party even more surprising.
“What are they doing here?” Natasha says loudly enough for everyone, including a couple of camera guys, to hear. She’s standing near the back doors with a cluster of other girls and clearly not thrilled to see us.
“Hey, everyone,” Paige calls out in a friendly voice. “Before you start stoning us, let me say that we come in peace. And, just so you know, we were invited.”
“Don’t mind Natasha,” Brogan tells Paige. “She’s just mad because she was rejected for yet another modeling gig.”
“Shut up!” Natasha snaps at her friend. The cameras are focusing in on this little spat.
Then, with a beautifully wrapped present in hand, Paige just shakes her head. “That totally floors me.”
Natasha narrows her eyes. “Yeah, I’ll bet it does.”
“Seriously.” Paige looks evenly at Natasha now. “You really have the right look going on to model professionally, Natasha. Maybe you’re just talking to the wrong people. I can so imagine you on a New York runway.”
Natasha softens a bit. “Really?”
“Absolutely.” Paige nods firmly. “And you guys know me. I’m honest about anything related to fashion—even if I do step on toes.”
Natasha almost smiles now. “I won’t ask for your opinion on my dress tonight.”
Paige looks down at the yellow dress and smiles. “It’s lovely.”
“What?” Natasha peers closer at Paige. “Are you really Paige Forrester, the fashion fiend?”
Paige just laughs. “Hey, it’s a nice dress. What can I say? Michael Kors. Right?”
Natasha nods with a stunned expression.
Then Paige introduces both Addison and Blake to the girls. Naturally, she can remember everyone’s names. “We were told it was okay to bring dates tonight.” She slips her arm behind Addison, smiling into his face as if he’s her main man, which is so not true. I try hard not to roll my eyes.
“That might make some girls happier.” Brogan jerks her thumb toward the back doors leading to the beach. “The plan is to have everyone outside and to turn the ligh
ts off when we get the signal that Mia is here.”
“Which should be in about five minutes,” Avery warns.
“And food and drinks are out there,” Natasha adds. “We won’t start the music until Mia arrives. We want her to be surprised.”
“You mean she really doesn’t know about this party?” I ask.
Avery laughs. “Well, of course she knows we’re shooting a show. But no one told her that it was a show about her surprise party.”
“Won’t she guess by the security outside that something’s going on?” I ask.
“The camera guys in front are supposed to lay low,” Brogan explains. “We have a guy posted at the end of the street who’s supposed to call as soon as Mia and Benjamin are spotted.”
“But Mia probably already knows what’s up,” Natasha tells us. “It’s hard to keep secrets in this town.”
“Or from Mia,” Avery says, “The girl’s totally wired. If she’s not twittering, TMing, checking Facebook or email, she’s probably just on the phone. Not much slips past her.”
I wonder if that includes her boyfriend. But I don’t say this out loud. “Want to go outside?” I ask Blake.
“Sure.” He reminds me of a kid in a candy store. It’s like his eyes are glittering—almost as much as some of the jewelry these girls are wearing. And I can tell he’s trying to look good for the cameras, not that they seem to care. We are definitely not the focus here. And, even though Blake and I don’t quite fit in (the other girls’ dresses are far more sophisticated and revealing than mine), I don’t even care. It’s almost as if I don’t want to fit in. Maybe that’s just stubbornness on my part. Or an attempt to preserve my personal identity.
Once we’re outside, I do try to be friendly. I introduce Blake to some of the guys that I remember from before, including Juan and Vince. We are just getting sodas when the lights suddenly go off and someone near the door makes a loud shushing sound.
Before long, Mia and Benjamin arrive—the lights go on and everyone shouts, “Surprise! Happy Birthday!” Mia feigns shock and the party continues merrily along. That is, until Mia spots Paige. Then it’s as if the whole place goes silent and I expect to hear that weird music—the kind they play in old westerns at high noon when gunfighters meet in the center of the town.
“Paige?” Mia says in a voice that I’m sure she wants to sound normal. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”
“Happy Birthday,” Paige says cheerfully. “You look absolutely beautiful.”
“Uh-huh…” Mia glances over at Benjamin and he looks slightly uncomfortable, as if he’s as surprised by this as she is.
“I’d like you to meet my date,” Paige says quickly, introducing them to Addison like he’s her trophy. “Your producer invited us and this time he allowed us to bring our own dates,” she jokes.
“Well, isn’t that nice.” Mia is smiling, but her eyes are like ice.
“And I brought you something,” Paige continues. I can tell she’s getting nervous, maybe wondering if this wasn’t such a great idea after all.
“Good idea,” Natasha says quickly. “Why don’t you open your presents now, Mia.” She nods to Avery and some others. “Want to help bring the gifts in for her?”
Mia looks uncertain, but she nods. “Sure, okay.”
Paige goes with other girls, returning with her present in hand. It’s the largest one there and by far the prettiest, but it sits conspicuously off to one side as Natasha starts handing Mia the other presents. And Mia opens them with what seems polite interest. A couple of spa certificates, some perfume—which she says is her favorite, a large basket of bath products, some fancy chocolates, and a charm bracelet from Benjamin that doesn’t really seem to hit the mark. I wonder if she expected a ring instead. Finally she is done, except for the package that Paige has picked up and is now holding out toward Mia.
“Last but hopefully not least,” Paige says as she hands the box to Mia. “It’s actually from our show, On the Runway, but I picked it out especially for you.”
Mia cautiously unties the lush satin ribbon and opens the box, removing layers of pink tissue paper before finally lifting out the dress.
“It’s from Vera Wang’s line,” Paige gushes. “We got a sneak preview for the show, but when I saw that color, I knew it would look fabulous on you. She’ll have one similar to it for New York Fashion Week, but she was hoping we’d use it on our show first.”
“Really?” Mia looks truly surprised.
“And we thought you might even want to wear it for your benefit show,” Paige says hopefully. “Or not. I mean, it’s your dress to do with as you like. But I think it’s going to look great on you.”
Natasha comes over to examine the garment. “This dress is really nice.”
“And it’s not a knockoff,” Brogan says with a twinkle in her eyes.
“Absolutely not,” Paige assures them. “It’s the real deal. Happy birthday, Mia!”
Mia looks stunned. “Thanks, Paige.”
Paige takes this little love fest even further and reaches down to hug Mia. “Bygones?”
Mia just nods.
I exchange glances with Blake, but I can tell he’s as impressed as I am. Seriously, how does my sister do it? I have no doubts that if Mia had mafia relatives, she would’ve had a hit out on Paige. Now they’re acting like best friends. Maybe my sister should give up being a fashion advisor and just teach charm school, as I’m sure she could make millions.
The party continues with no big incidents. Not that this makes the Malibu Beach camera crew happy. But the On the Runway crew seems pleased when Paige and I lure a number of cast members outside to do some quick interviews and “fashion chats,” as Paige is calling them. Even Mia, at her friends’ encouragement, tries on the Vera Wang dress then goes out to do a “birthday” interview with Paige while wearing it. Really, I do not know how this evening could’ve gone much better. And for the whole night, Paige keeps a safe distance from Benjamin. By the time we leave, Mia and Paige, once again, exchange air kisses.
“And I’ll see you next week for your fashion show,” Paige reminds Mia.
“Thanks for coming tonight,” Mia calls happily.
As we drive home, I relay the amazing story of Paige’s reconciliation with Mia to Fran. And yet Fran isn’t even surprised. “That’s why Helen Hudson picked your sister,” she says as if it should be obvious. “Paige Forrester’s got the magic touch.”
Paige is beaming at this high praise and suddenly I’m worried it might all go to her head, and there’ll be no living with her if that happens. Still, I must admit I admire her diplomacy skills. And there might be a thing or two she could teach me.
Chapter 14
Before I got a chance to sign up as the latest member of the Paige Forrester fan club, and trust me, there is one, my sister did something that seriously tipped her halo. Not that she’s ever been much of an angel. Although some people think her golden hair, blue eyes, and sweet smile are angelic, I know better. And I should’ve known better than to think that Paige would continue along the high road when it came to Benjamin Kross.
“You’re doing what?” I ask, just two days after her Oscar-worthy performance as Miss Congeniality at Mia’s birthday party.
“Don’t act like I’m a criminal, Erin.” I’ve cornered her in the bathroom. Not that she cares since she’s only doing her makeup.
“I just want to make sure I heard you right. Did you just say that you’re going out with Benjamin tonight?”
“So?” She puts the mascara lid back on and blinks innocently.
“So?” I stare at her. How can she possibly be so dense? “What about Mia? What about your little spiel at her birthday? All that bygones and burying the hatchet? Was that just an act?”
She shrugs as she opens her lip gloss and refocuses her attention to the mirror.
“It was?” I want to shake her. “Really? Just an act?”
“No…not exactly. I mean, yes, I did want to smooth
things over for the sake of the fashion show on Saturday. I couldn’t just let that fall apart, could I? Our show is supposed to be there, remember? How do we do that if Mia won’t speak to me?”
“Yes!” I point my forefinger up, as in ah-hah! “That’s my question too—how do we cover the fashion show if Mia is enraged at you for going out with her boyfriend?”
“He’s not her boyfriend.” She holds her blush brush in the air like she’s going to duel my forefinger with it.
“Since when?”
“Well, they haven’t officially broken up…I mean on the show. But it’s over.”
“Says who?” I put my finger down and wait as she dusts a bit of blush on her cheeks.
“Benjamin.”
“But what about Mia?”
“You know, Erin, it seems like you’re more concerned about poor Mia Renwick than you are for your own sister.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” I say. “I’m concerned about you too.” I follow her out into the living room. It’s obvious my opinion means nothing to her.
She gives me a photo-worthy smile as she reaches for her purse. “Don’t be. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, little sister.”
“Fine,” I snap at her. “And if On the Runway falls by the roadside, I won’t be concerned about that either.”
“Stop being such a drama queen.”
I shake my head and go back to my room, firmly closing the door behind me. I cannot believe she’s the one calling me a drama queen. And as I sit on my bed, I tell myself that I couldn’t care less. Why should I care? Paige can marry Benjamin if she wants. Our show can be cancelled. So what? I don’t want to do a show with Paige anyway…remember?
I am getting increasingly frustrated that I gave up my spot in the film and TV program at UCLA in order to participate in a reality show that may never become reality. That is, if my sister keeps acting like a total idiot. I wonder if it’s too late to register for some classes for next term.
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