“What’s up?” she asks cheerfully.
“Hey! Great to hear from you. We’re having dessert right now, so can I call you back?” I say this quietly, knowing that Mom’s eying me and wondering why my phone wasn’t turned off.
“Sure.” Her voice sounds stiff.
“Okay. Soon as we’re done.” Then I hang up, turn off my phone, and go back to the table. “Sorry, Mom,” I say, “I forgot it was on.”
“Jon was just saying that he should schedule you and Paige to be on the morning show,” Mom tells me as I sit down.
“Oh?”
“For publicity,” she continues.
“Yes,” Jon adjusts his dark-rimmed glasses. “I thought we could do a spot on you girls right before the Golden Globes. That might be fun.”
“That sounds fabulous,” Paige gushes. “I can hardly believe that we’re going to be at the Golden Globes.”
“Just on the red carpet,” I remind her. “It’s not like we get to go inside like the real guests.”
“Not this year.” She smiles slyly. “But just you wait…one of these years.”
Jon laughs. “I wouldn’t doubt it after seeing you on Malibu Beach tonight.”
“We’ve been invited to the Golden Globes too,” Benjamin injects.
“The whole Malibu Beach show?” Jon asks in surprise.
“No…just Mia and me.”
Paige sits a little straighter, almost as if this is news to her.
“Won’t that be a little awkward?” I ask, knowing I should probably just keep my mouth shut. But, hey, I’m curious. “I mean, if you guys have broken up?”
“The breakup will happen after the Golden Globes,” Benjamin says this as if he’s describing an episode and not a personal relationship, and I’m thinking maybe Mom was right about Mia acting after all. “Our director thought that would be better.”
I want to ask him if Mia agreed with this, but I know that would be stepping over the line. Besides, I’m trying to be kinder and less judgmental—and it’s none of my business anyway.
We continue the discussion, talking about who’s been nominated for what and who everyone thinks will win and why. It’s after ten by the time we finally start saying good-night, only because Jon informs us he has to get up in six hours to be ready for the morning show. But as he tells Mom good-night, I’m surprised to see them exchange a kiss. A real kiss. And it’s kind of surreal. I mean, I’ve never seen my mom kiss anyone except for my dad. I suppose it’s kind of upsetting too, but I try to act natural as I offer to walk Blake downstairs. Mostly I want to get away and just let this strangeness of this settle.
“Is it weird seeing your mom dating?” Blake asks as we stand in the courtyard by the parking lot.
I nod. “Yeah. I guess I wasn’t as ready for it as I thought.”
“Jon seems like a great guy.”
“Yeah…” I look over at the stand of palm trees being lit by the spotlight. And then I notice that Benjamin and Paige are coming down the stairs. I assume, like me, she came down to give Mom some space and to tell Benjamin good-night in private. But the next thing I know she hops into his Porsche and off they go.
“Wonder what they’re up to?” Blake asks.
“No idea,” I say, trying to relax some of my overly protective-sister attitude.
Now Blake takes my hand and I’m not sure what he’s about to do, but to my relief he just shakes it with both hands. “Thanks for a great evening, Erin. It was fun seeing you and Paige in your big debut.”
“Thank you for coming,” I say as he releases my hand.
We just stand there for a couple of minutes and I’m actually wondering if I want to move this up a notch—maybe I really do want him to kiss me like he used to do back before he broke my heart. On second thought, maybe I’m not ready for that yet. Just then Jon comes down the stairs. He calls out “good-night,” then gets into his car and leaves.
“I should go back in,” I say lamely.
“I’ll watch until you go up the stairs,” Blake offers.
“Oh, it’s perfectly safe here,” I assure him.
But he just smiles. “Maybe I just want to watch.”
I laugh. “Okay then.” I call out good-night as I hurry up the stairs. And I’m still thinking about the boyfriend thing. Maybe I’ve been wrong about this. Maybe it is time to elevate Blake back up to “boyfriend” status. Or maybe not.
“So…” Mom is cleaning up the dinner things. “What did you think of Jon?”
“He’s great,” I tell her as I start to load the dishwasher.
“Does it bother you though?” She continues rinsing something in the sink. “I mean because he’s not your dad?”
“I guess it kind of took me by surprise,” I admit, trying to be mature about the whole thing. “But that’s probably natural.”
She just nods.
“Hey, listen,” I say. “You have to get up early tomorrow. Why don’t I finish up in here?”
She turns to me with what seem like misty eyes. “Thanks, Erin.” And then she hugs me. “I appreciate it.”
As I work in the kitchen I wonder why my mom got misty over me offering to do the dishes, and I also wonder about my sister and Benjamin. If they were a normal couple, I might assume they went to a club. But because they’re still staying beneath the radar, I doubt this. Unless they both simultaneously lost their minds—and that’s possible. Finally, instead of obsessing and getting mad, I decide to just pray for them. Then I finish up the kitchen and go to bed.
The next morning I wake up to the sound of our doorbell ringing. I look at the clock to see that it’s nearly ten. So, knowing Mom is long gone and Paige is probably sleeping in since I heard her roll in around one, I get up to see who’s disturbing my sleep.
“Mollie?” I say in surprise. “Hi! Don’t you have classes today?”
“Not until one.” Without waiting for an invitation, she comes inside as if she’s on a mission.
“Want some coffee?” I offer as I head for the kitchen.
“Why didn’t you call me back last night?” she demands as she tosses her jacket onto the back of a counter stool and sits down.
“Oh, yeah!” I slap my forehead. “I totally forgot. Last night was kind of crazy.” So as I fill the coffee carafe, I explain about who was here for dinner and how Paige is dating Benjamin and Mom’s dating Jon and that I’ve been talking to Blake again. “And it was late and I went to bed.” I click on the coffee maker, turn around, and hold up my hands and just smile. “Sorry about that.”
“So Benjamin was here last night?” Her brow is creased like this is a big concern. And it’s not that I don’t agree, but I wonder why she should care so much.
I nod. “Yeah.”
“But after that, he and Paige went out, right?”
“How do you know—”
“Everyone knows.”
“Huh?”
“You mean you don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“About your sister and Benjamin Kross.”
“Of course I know. But how do you know?”
“Because someone tweeted me and then I went online. One of the gossip sites has a photo of the two of them sneaking into an all-night diner. I’m sure it’s already all over the place.”
“Seriously?” I lean forward on the breakfast bar and just stare at her. She seems to be enjoying being the bearer of bad news.
“Go get your laptop,” she says eagerly. “I’ll show you.”
Then, as we’re sitting there sipping coffee and perusing the gossip sites where news of Benjamin Kross’s new romance is spreading like wildfire, Paige comes meandering out of her bedroom, looking just as lovely as ever even though I know she just crawled out of bed.
“Morning girls,” she says sleepily.
“Paige,” I say. “Uh, you better come look at this.”
“What?” She yawns as she comes over to join us, leaning over to see the screen better. Then suddenly she stands erec
t. “Oh no…”
“Oh yes.” I nod at her trying to withhold an I-told-you-so expression.
Paige lets a swear word escape. “Sorry,” she says quickly. “But this is so not good.”
“Ya think?” I go back for another cup of coffee.
Paige sits down on a stool next to Mollie and stares blankly at the granite countertop.
“So what do you think?” Mollie says lightly. “Are you the next Angelina Jolie?”
“That was so last decade,” I say. “Couldn’t they come up with a more recent couple-crasher?”
“I’m not a couple-crasher,” Paige says quietly.
“Well, Benjamin and Mia are still seen as a couple in the public’s eyes,” I remind her.
“And in Mia’s eyes, it says here,” Mollie points to the screen. “Want me to read it?”
Paige doesn’t answer, but I nod. We might as well get this over with.
“Mia is quoted as saying that Paige Forrester is a manipulative, backstabbing little witch. And then she goes on to say that you’re a frenemy and that you crashed her birthday party, pretended to be her friend, and went behind her back to steal her boyfriend.” Mollie just shakes her head now. “And she also says that she hopes your show is cancelled or that they can at least find a host who knows how to behave herself better in both public and private and yada-yada.”
“This is such a mess.” Paige says.
I take a sip of coffee and wonder how my smooth sister is going to slip out of this mess.
Paige’s phone is ringing, but she just sits there.
Before long, our landline rings and I pick it up with an approving nod from Paige. “I have Helen Hudson for Paige Forrester,” Sabrina says stiffly.
“Just a minute,” I say as I hold the phone toward my sister and mouth “Helen.”
But she just stands up, shakes her head, then runs back to her room.
“I’m sorry,” I say into the phone. “She’s unable to—”
“Listen, Erin,” Sabrina snarls, “tell Paige to get her little—”
“I’ll have her call you back, okay?”
“Get her on the phone now,” she seethes.
“I’ll try. Hold on.” I go and knock on Paige’s door. “You have to take this call,” I tell Paige. Then I open the door, finding my sister in a heap on her bed. “It’s Helen Hudson,” I say firmly. “And you need to talk to her.”
Paige sits up and reluctantly holds her hand out for the phone, but her expression is like I’m handing her a loaded gun that she’s about to place against her head.
“Just get it over with,” I say gently. “Really, how bad can it be?” I place the phone in her hands, then force a little smile. “And I’ll be praying for you, okay?”
She nods blankly and mutters into the phone, “This is Paige.”
I consider sticking around to eavesdrop, but then decide Paige probably doesn’t need any additional pressure right now. Besides, I said I’d pray for her. So I go back out and tell Mollie about my promise and the two of us bow our heads and ask God to help Paige through this difficult situation that she seems to have gotten herself into.
Chapter 16
“Helen wants to pull the plug on our show,” Paige tells me after about an hour-long conversation. “Rather, she wants to pull the plug on me.”
“Oh.” I’m telling myself not to get mad. This is not as much about me right now as it is about Paige. After all, this was her dream, not mine. I was just coming along for the ride—the rollercoaster ride. Right now, I’m here to support her…no matter how culpable she is.
“I don’t know what to do, Erin.” Paige looks at me with a tear-streaked face and puffy eyes. No longer quite as picture-perfect as usual. Not that this makes me happy—I may have my little streaks of jealousy, but I would much rather see my sister happy and beautiful than miserable and looking like this.
“I wish I could stick around and see how this ends,” Mollie says as she reaches for her jacket, “but I have to get to class. Good luck, Paige,” she says softly.
“Thanks.” Paige shakes her head.
“So Helen was really mad?”
“Oh…yeah. The producer of Malibu Beach called her and accused her of trying to undermine their show in order to promote ours.”
“That is so ridiculous.”
“I told her that. But she said that in the cutthroat world of reality TV, anything is possible.”
“Meaning she thinks you did this on purpose?”
“I told her that we were trying to keep our relationship under wraps.”
“But, Paige, this is Hollywood, there is no such thing. And you know how connected Mia is. It probably took her five minutes to figure it out.”
“I know…and I feel stupid enough. You don’t have to rub it in.”
“Sorry, I just thought you knew what you were doing.” I study my downcast sister and wonder if there was possibly something Freudian about this. Maybe she really didn’t want to have her own show. Maybe this was just a handy escape route. And yet…that just doesn’t seem like her to me. No, I think it was just a dumb mistake.
“At least you weren’t at a club,” I point out, “drinking and dancing and acting like Lindsay Lohan.”
“Helen actually said that exact thing.”
“That’s something.”
“Unfortunately, it’s not enough.” Paige looks at me with fresh tears filling her eyes. “I wanted this show so bad, Erin. I can’t believe I blew it like this. I really do like Benjamin. And it seemed perfectly safe. We were being so careful and only going to places where paparazzi have never been seen before. And honestly, I never saw anyone with a camera.”
“But, Paige,” I tell her, “think about it. All it takes is one person to snap a quick photo on a phone and it’s all over. You don’t need paparazzi.”
“That’s true. And if there were do-overs, I’d go back and do this whole thing differently. I would tell Benjamin that we had to wait.”
“That’s reassuring…not that it helps much now.” The landline phone rings again. I check to see that it’s Mom and figure she must’ve heard the news. “Hi, Mom,” I say in a flat voice.
“Oh, dear,” she says quickly, “how is Paige?”
“Falling apart.”
“Have you heard from the studio?”
“Sounds like Helen’s pulling the plug on the show.” I glance at Paige, but she’s staring at the countertop again. “Or maybe she’s just pulling the plug on Paige and me.”
“This is too bad. I guess you were right after all, Erin.”
“I wish I’d been wrong.”
“Well, there’s not much we can do about this. But I’m glad you’re there with your sister. Give her a hug for me.”
“Okay.” Then we say good-bye and hang up.
“What am I going to do?” Paige says. I can’t tell if she’s talking to me or herself, but she says it over and over…and I have no response.
Eventually, I go to my room. Although I feel sorry for Paige, I also can’t get past the fact that she brought this on herself, and she brought it onto me too. Finally, I realize the only positive action I can take at the moment is to pray. I text Blake, who is probably in class now, asking him to pray too.
It’s hard to know how to pray. I mean, I honestly feel like my sister made a wrong and selfish choice and the pain and suffering she’s experiencing as a result only seems fair. Of course, I wouldn’t say that to her. That’d be kind of like kicking someone who’d fallen down. But as I try to pray, I’m confused. I’m so frustrated that I actually get down on my knees—and I don’t usually do that to pray. I ask God to help me to pray and to help me not to judge my sister, and then I remember a Bible verse about how God can take something bad and turn it into something good. So I ask him to use this mess to get Paige’s attention and to hopefully teach her something.
“What are you doing?”
I look up from where I’m still kneeling by the bed. “Huh?”
&nb
sp; “What are you doing?” Paige asks again.
“Praying.” I bow my head and silently say, “amen,” and then stand.
“Do you think it really works?”
“Prayer?” I’m thinking this could turn into a good conversation if I don’t blow it by getting all defensive. I silently ask God to help me.
“Yeah. Does God really listen or is it just to make you feel better?”
“I think maybe both. But, yes, I do think God listens.”
“Huh. I mean, I do believe in God. But I haven’t prayed since I was a little kid. Honestly, I don’t see how praying can change anything.”
“Maybe you should give it another try.”
“What were you praying for?”
I consider my answer. “Well…mostly for you. I was asking God to bring something good out of this whole mess.”
She sits on my bed. “Like that’s even possible.”
“All things are possible with God.”
She just sits there staring at her hands lying limply in her lap.
I wish I could think of something encouraging or positive to say to her, but I am completely blank now.
“I wish I could believe that, Erin.”
“What?”
“What you just said…all things are possible with God. I wish I had that kind of faith…like you do.”
“Then you should ask God to give it to you. If you ask God for faith, he’ll give it to you.”
“Just like that? He’ll just give it to me?”
I’m trying to remember how the Bible verse goes that describes this. “The Bible explains it like this,” I begin slowly. “It’s like if you were a kid and you were hungry and you asked your parents for food, they wouldn’t give you a rock to eat. Right?”
“Right.”
“It’s like that with God too. If you ask him for faith, he’s not going to give you like, say, a toothache instead. At least I don’t think so. But I also think you have to mean it when you ask. You probably can’t just flippantly ask him, like you’re testing to see if he’ll really do it. I think you need to be sincere.”
She nods real slowly, like she’s trying to wrap her head around this. I’m feeling hopeful, like maybe God really is at work here, bringing something good out of something bad. Because, honestly, I can’t remember a time when Paige really listened to me talk about God.
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