Catwalk. Part 4

"Are you in love?" Paige pauses from reaching into the fridge to study Mom and I'm wis.h.i.+ng she hadn't asked that. I'm not even sure I want to know the answer.

"Oh...I don't know." Mom smiles mysteriously. "It's a little early for that."

"But you do do like him, don't you?" Paige persists. "A lot, right?" like him, don't you?" Paige persists. "A lot, right?"

Mom looks embarra.s.sed now. "He's a very nice man."

"I'll make the salad," I offer, taking the lettuce from Mom, trying to divert attention away from my blus.h.i.+ng mother. I start jabbering on about how we went with Benjamin and Blake to this new restaurant and how the paparazzi snagged some photos and how Paige just waved and smiled.

"It's probably more fun for them when they have to chase you down to get a shot," Mom says as she pours rice into the boiling water. "So you've been out with Benjamin a couple of times now, Paige. How's that going?"

"It's okay," Paige tells her. "But I'm taking it nice and slow."

"And you and Blake?" Mom asks me. "Are you two a couple again?"

"I'm taking it even slower than Paige," I say with a chuckle. "Blake, for now, is my good friend. I told him that he's getting closer to boyfriend status all the time."

Mom laughs. "Good for you. Make him prove himself. Make them both prove themselves."

"I remember how Dad always told us not to settle for less than the best for guys as well as in life." I pause from slicing a tomato. "And I seriously want to stick to that."

"Me too!" Paige agrees.

"So do I," Mom says.

Later, as we sit down to eat, Mom asks about our plans for our New York trip. "Is everything falling into place?"

"Seems to be," Paige tells her. "We fly out Thursday-"

"This Thursday?" Mom looks surprised.

"Yep. Remember Fran wanted us out there a week early to interview designers and put together footage that will play before our Fas.h.i.+on Week show?"

"Yes I remember. But Thursday just seems so soon." Mom sighs. "I wish I could go with you girls."

"Why don't you?" Paige suggests.

"Oh, you know I can't get off work. Besides, you girls need to do this on your own. It's your show. You don't need your old mom meddling with it." But even as she says this, I sense that she regrets not being involved. I remember when Helen Hudson offered Mom a chance to help produce our show.

"You're not our old old mom." I take her hand. mom." I take her hand.

"And we would love it if you came along," Paige adds. "Well, as long as you didn't try to direct the show or anything. Fran might not like that too much."

Mom laughs. "Thanks, honey. But you'll be fine without me tagging along. Just make sure I get a full itinerary before you take off."

"I'll remind Leah to copy you on all that," Paige promises.

After dinner, I head to my room to unwind. Eventually I decide to give Mollie a call. I have no idea if she'll even speak to me, but I really want to be mature about this and at least attempt to make things right. But, once again, I am sent directly to voicemail, and this time I don't bother to leave a message. For one thing, I'm getting aggravated that she seems to be ignoring my calls, but the other reason is that I'm worried I'll say something dumb and make things worse. Sometimes it's just better to keep your mouth shut.

Paige and I end up spending the next three days at the studio with Fran and the crew. Fran spends this time mapping out our time in New York as well as briefing us and planning our wardrobe.

"Hopefully we'll pick up more pieces once we get there," she informs us as the wardrobe workers pack the boxes to be sent on ahead to our hotel. "Leah let the designers know your sizes as well as sent DVDs of your show. But a lot of this we'll simply have to play by ear." She chuckles as she hands us a hard copy of our schedules. "And, after all, isn't that the beauty of reality TV?"

"Have you figured out how many of our crew will be coming yet?" Paige asks as she looks at the schedule.

"Thanks to a serious lack of available hotel rooms next week, that's a tough one-but Leah's on it. She might even stick the crew in New Jersey during Fas.h.i.+on Week proper. And if we have to go bare-boned for a few days, in regard to our regular hair and makeup artists, I'll be counting on you, Paige. You seem to be a natural anyway."

"You mean I'll be doing my own hair and makeup?" Paige looks shocked and slightly diva-like as she says this.

"I hope that won't happen, but in a worst-case scenario, we need to be prepared. Keep in mind, it is Fas.h.i.+on Week, and besides the challenge of accommodations, every decent hair and makeup person is already booked. It's not like we had a year in advance to set this thing up."

Paige looks concerned.

"You'll be fine," I try to a.s.sure her.

"Does that mean I'll be doing Erin's hair and makeup too?" Paige is still acting a bit too much like a prima donna for me. I sure hope this isn't some kind of foreshadowing of what I can look forward to in the Big Apple.

"Good grief," I tell her. "It's not like I need to look that that great. I'm only the camera girl and I go for a pretty natural look anyway. Relax, okay?" great. I'm only the camera girl and I go for a pretty natural look anyway. Relax, okay?"

"That's easy for you to say, Camera Girl Camera Girl, but I'm supposed to be the star and I need to look good. I can't show up at Fas.h.i.+on Week looking like something the cat dragged in."

Fran laughs. "Fine, I'll make a special note asking Leah to pay close attention to this one. Somehow we'll handle it, okay?"

"I hope so."

"And I get your point, Paige. If you don't look good we don't look good." Fran writes something down. "I'll be flying out with you and the three of us will share a suite that Leah managed to snag. As you can see on the schedule, Friday will be our day to acclimate ourselves to the city as well as do more strategizing. Then, first thing Sat.u.r.day morning, the crew will be ready to hit the ground running. Or so we hope. Because, as you can see, that day is jammed-with less than a week before Fas.h.i.+on Week begins, design studios are hopping."

"I also see that we're scheduled to stay with Taylor Mitch.e.l.l the following week. You're sure she's okay with that, right?" Paige asks.

"According to Leah, yes. It sounds like Taylor actually caught your last show and thinks highly of you, Paige."

Paige holds her head higher. "Hopefully she'll still feel that way when I meet her-I mean, if I have to do my own hair and makeup."

I try not to roll my eyes...or yawn. Paige is so uptight. But I'll just chalk it up to nerves. A lot is riding on her during the next couple of weeks.

"I've got Helen Hudson on the line," Leah calls from her desk. "Want me to put her on speaker so she can talk to all of you?"

Fran turns on her speaker phone and we all listen as Helen wishes us a safe trip and success. "I'll fly in next Tuesday and attend the Perry Ellis show on Wednesday and then the Valentino on Friday," she says finally. "Now you girls be good and make me proud, you hear?"

We tell her we'll do our best and thank her before Fran hangs up. "So there you have it." She holds up her hands. "Since it's after six, I suggest you girls get home, finish packing, and get your beauty rest so that Paige doesn't end up looking like something the cat dragged in." She gives Paige a sly smile.

"By the way," Paige asks as we're leaving, "I a.s.sume we're flying first cla.s.s, right?"

Fran just laughs. "Wrong. The best Leah could do was business cla.s.s. Sorry about that."

Paige makes a pouty face. "How is it going to look if I get spotted flying business cla.s.s?"

"Maybe you can disguise yourself," Fran teases. "Dark gla.s.ses, a scarf-go like an old-time Hollywood starlet."

Paige nods. "I just might do that."

Maybe I'm losing it, but the image of Paige playing a fifties movie starlet makes me laugh so hard that I actually snort.

"Attractive," Paige tells me as we're leaving.

"See you in the morning, girls," Fran calls out.

"Feeling nervous about the trip?" I ask Paige once we're in my Jeep. "You seemed a little edgy in there."

"Edgy?" She glances at me as I start the engine. "Why? What did I do?"

"Oh, you know, all that business about hair and makeup. Is it really that big of a deal?"

"It is to me. Seriously, Erin, our show is about looking good. How can I afford to go on the air without looking perfect?"

"Isn't that kind of hard to keep up all the time?"

Paige laughs. "Well, it does help that I'm fairly fabulous already."

"Not that you obsess over your looks or anything."

"My looks are what got us this job, Erin. I need to obsess a little."

I send up a quick prayer and tread carefully here. "But do you ever worry that you're just focusing on the outside, that you're maybe bordering on being...superficial...by worrying so much about appearances? I mean, what about what's underneath it all? What's left if you peel away the layers of fas.h.i.+on, makeup, even your natural good looks?"

Paige doesn't answer.

"What about your mind? Or even your heart?"

"What about them?" She holds up her hands in a helpless gesture. "They're there, aren't they? You're not suggesting I'm lacking those things, are you? I mean, it takes some brains and wit to do the interviews I do. And I have a heart, Erin. Don't I Don't I?" Her voice quivers ever so slightly and I wonder if I've hit a sore spot. I hope I haven't hurt her.

"Of course you do," I say quickly.

"I'm not you, I know," she says. "You seem to think it's enough to rely on your brains and...well, maybe your faith. I'm not sure. But we're different, Erin. I can't be you. And you can't be me."

I laugh as I enter the freeway. "That's a good thing, isn't it."

She offers a small smile. "So maybe we should agree to disagree. You might think I'm all shallow and superficial and that I obsess over things like hair and makeup and fas.h.i.+on, but you don't have to pick on me for it, okay?"

"Okay." I nod vigorously. She's right. "I won't. And by the same token, maybe you should lay off picking on me for being unfas.h.i.+onable. Deal?"

"Well, I can pick on you a little," she says quickly. "You are are on a TV show that's all about fas.h.i.+on. I can't just pretend you look great if you don't." on a TV show that's all about fas.h.i.+on. I can't just pretend you look great if you don't."

"Uh huh." I just shake my head. "Whatever."

"So how about this..." She turns to look at me. "You are allowed to send me some kind of secret signal, okay?"

"Huh?"

"You know, like if you think I've stepped over the line...or even if I'm about to step over some line."

"What kind of line?"

"You know, like I'm about to blast someone in the name of honesty and fas.h.i.+on. I give you permission to tip me off if it looks like I'm going to seriously hurt someone, okay?"

"Okay." I feel myself brighten now. "What kind of secret signal will it be?"

"Good question."

We both sit there trying to come up with something, and after trying several we finally agree on the old throat-slash signal for cut. cut.

"Since I'm not the one who ever tells you to cut, it should get your attention," I point out. "Plus the person you're interviewing will probably a.s.sume I'm just doing my job as camera girl." Hopefully it's not a signal I'll need to use much.

Chapter 6.

"You girls have fun," Mom tells us as we're rus.h.i.+ng to head out the door. It's not even six in the morning, and Mom's still in her bathrobe. But Fran just called saying that the limo is waiting, and we're scrambling to gather our stuff. rus.h.i.+ng to head out the door. It's not even six in the morning, and Mom's still in her bathrobe. But Fran just called saying that the limo is waiting, and we're scrambling to gather our stuff.

"I didn't know she was coming this early," I confess as I pull on my Ugg boots. "Our flight's not until nine-something."

"It was on the schedule," Paige yells as she comes rus.h.i.+ng out of her room towing a very large pink suitcase behind her.

"Thanks to security right now, you're supposed to get to the airport two hours before your flight," Mom informs us. "And with morning commuter traffic, Fran's got it planned just about right."

"I'm going to have to make two trips," Paige complains, "just to get all this stuff downstairs." She groans as she heads out the door with her jumbo suitcase and matching carry-on bag.

"You'd think that the show hadn't already sent out boxes of clothes for us to wear," I say to Mom as I hug her. "Paige will have enough clothes to stay there permanently."

Mom laughs. "Just help keep an eye on her, okay? You know Paige doesn't always look before she leaps."

"I know. I'll do my best." I put the strap of my carry-on bag over my shoulder and pick up my roller bag. "Guess I'm ready to go now."

"Be careful, honey. And be sure to call me if you need anything," Mom says. "Or if you just need to talk."

"Thanks."

Mom looks a little forlorn as she waves.

"Enjoy the peace and quiet while we're gone," I tell her. "And make sure you call some friends and do something fun once in a while, okay?"