Paige was dressed to kill.
She stared at the image of herself in her full-length bedroom mirror and she had to admit, she looked hot.
No more beating around the bush.
Tonight was the night.
She was going to find out if Max was gay or straight and, if he was straight, then she wanted him to see what he had been missing out on.
And could have if he wanted!
She was wearing a strapless, blush-hued gown by Calvin Klein that plunged provocatively in the front—she still couldn’t believe she’d had the courage to wear it! But when she’d tried it on at the store, she knew she had to buy it. It clung to her curves in all the right places and made her look older. More mature. She certainly didn’t look like a teenage girl.
A new gown required new shoes, and the Jimmy Choos on her feet were a new pair in hot pink, wickedly pointed at the toe and sinfully high at the heel. Because she wasn’t used to high heels, she’d had to practice walking around in them so she wouldn’t fall. It had taken a few days, but she’d finally gotten the hang of it.
She’d set her hair with hot rollers and now her head was a wild, messy mane of waves and curls, exactly the way Anthony always suggested.
Jewelry was minimal. A chunky gold bracelet on one wrist and a thin gold chain around her neck.
Her makeup was flawless. She’d accentuated her eyes with a smoky shade of eyeshadow and plumped up her lashes with mascara. She’d highlighted her cheekbones with a slight touch of blush and painted her lips a yummy shade of raspberry with a finishing touch of lip gloss to make them shimmer.
Paige couldn’t stop staring at her image. She couldn’t ever remember looking this beautiful. Yes, that was the word. Beautiful. After telling Anthony how she felt like she’d been living in her mother’s shadow, she’d decided it was time to do something about it. Just because she was her mother’s daughter didn’t mean she was going to turn out the same way as her mother. Camille was Camille, and she was herself.
And so today’s transformation.
She felt like a different person.
Stronger.
More confident.
She knew she was going to turn heads at the auction.
And she couldn’t wait!
She was sure everyone was expecting her to arrive in a demure, quiet gown. Something very Laura Ashley with her hair in its usual French braid or pushed back with a headband. Very ice princessy.
Boy, were they going to be surprised!
She almost wished Paolo could get a look at her. She could just imagine the stunned surprise on his face. She’d love to leave him speechless for once. Every so often, Anthony’s comment about Paolo liking her popped into her head, but she chased it away. It was so crazy! Paolo did not like her.
Did he?
She chased away all thoughts of Paolo. Tonight wasn’t about him.
It was about Max!
She turned back to the mirror, admiring herself one last time.
Why hadn’t she done this sooner? It had been fun getting all dressed up. She wouldn’t want to do this every day, but once in a while wouldn’t be too bad.
Now, was she forgetting anything?
Scent!
She reached for a bottle of perfume and spritzed it in the air, then walked through it the way she’d seen her mother do on countless occasions when she was a little girl.
She wondered what was up with Camille. She hadn’t heard from her in a few weeks. The scalding message she’d left had never been returned, although according to one of the tabloids, Camille, attempting to disguise herself with huge sunglasses and a head scarf, had been spotted using the private entrance of an exclusive Beverly Hills plastic surgeon. Paige hoped she wasn’t going to have anything too drastic done. Her mother was a beautiful woman and she certainly didn’t look her age.
Her cell phone rang and she picked it up without checking the incoming number, expecting the caller to be Anthony.
“Calm down, I’m almost ready.”
“Paige!” Camille wailed from three thousand miles away.
“Mother?”
“Darling, you’ve got to help me! You must!”
Paige held back a sigh. Of course, a crisis call. Why else would Camille be on the line?
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m trapped on the West Coast because of the weather. Some sort of fog that’s as thick as pea soup. No planes can leave the airport.”
“What do you want me to do about it?”
“Tonight is the Soap Opera Magazine Awards in New York at the Waldorf Astoria. I’ve been voted Best Villainess. It’s a fan-voted award, but it looks like I’m not going to be there because of this horrible fog. I can’t let my fans down! Darling, you have to help me!”
Camille was talking so fast, it was taking Paige a while to process everything. But certain words jumped out at her. New York. Waldorf Astoria.Tonight.
“Let me get this straight,” Paige said, trying to stay calm because if she was thinking what she was thinking…no, she didn’t want to go there. Camille wouldn’t make the same mistake twice, would she? “There’s an awards show tonight in New York that you’re supposed to be at, but you can’t make it.”
“Yes, yes, yes! That’s why I’m calling.”
“Oh?” Paige knew what coming next. Without a doubt. She’d stake her life on it.
“You have to take my place at the show and accept the award on my behalf.”
Bingo!
“I do?” Paige tried not to sound snotty. “Really?”
“Yes! I have to show my fans how much I appreciate all their love and support. It would be a slap in the face to them if someone wasn’t there to accept my award.”
Paige almost dropped the phone. Camille’s words were like scalding acid thrown in her face. All their love and support? What about mine? Doesn’t my love and support count?
“I don’t believe you,” Paige whispered hoarsely, the words lodged in her throat and unable to come out. “I absolutely do not believe you!”
“Paige? Darling? What’s wrong? Speak up. I can’t hear you. Is the line breaking up?”
“What’s wrong? What’s wrong?!” Paige asked incredulously, her voice rising. “You have the gall to ask me what’s wrong? Are you that clueless?”
“Paige, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You were going to be in New York tonight and it slipped your mind that you have a daughter who lives here? A daughter who maybe might like to see you? This is just like when you appeared on New York Live. Why weren’t you going to tell me you’d be here?”
“The thought never crossed my mind.”
“Why not?” Paige demanded. “Do you think so little of me? Or do you not think of me at all except when you want something? Did you ever stop to think that maybe I’d like to spend some time with my mother?”
“But darling, you have your life and I have mine.”
“So? What does that have to do with anything? That doesn’t mean our lives can’t overlap. I’m your daughter!”
“I don’t know what to say,” Camille said. “It never occurred to me that you’d want to spend time with me. Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
“Why should I? You’re my mother. I would think you’d have some interest in me. You always expect me to come through for you. To save you. Rescue you. Clean up your messes. What about me? What about all those times you’ve let me down? All those missed ballet recitals and plays and award ceremonies because they couldn’t fit into your schedule. You’re never there for me. Ever! Thank God for Daddy! At least he doesn’t make me feel like an afterthought.”
“I thought you didn’t want me,” Camille said. “That’s why I never came.”
“What?” Paige couldn’t have heard her correctly.
“You have your father and your life in New York. When I moved back to California and you decided you wanted to stay in New York with your father, well, I thought…well…that you didn’t need me. That you didn’t want me in your life.”
“That’s not true!” Paige exclaimed. “Of course I want you. You’re my mother. I love you!”
As soon as she said the words, Paige realized they were true. Why hadn’t she said so for the last ten years? But was that the root of all their problems? Miscommunication? Could it be that, with this one phone call, they were going to work things out? It couldn’t be that easy, could it?
“And I love you!” Camille cried. “When I think of all the time we’ve lost! All the time we could have spent together. It makes my heart ache. Ache! But that’s all over now. The future is ours and we can do anything we want with it. Anything!”
Wait a minute. Camille’s last couple of sentences sounded vaguely familiar. Where had she heard them before?
It came to Paige in a flash. Last year on The Yields of Passion. When Priscilla thought she was dying of a deadly blood disease and then learned she wasn’t dying. She’d said these exact same words to her younger sister, Suzette, with whom she’d been feuding with over—what else?—a man.
“Mother, stop acting,” Paige said.
“Acting? I’m not acting.”
“Yes, you are. For a while there, you were genuine, but then you slipped into Priscilla.”
“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Camille grumbled. “Our writers are so good, why shouldn’t I recycle their dialogue? Especially if I’m trying to say the same thing!”
Paige knew Anthony was going to kill her, but she had no choice. She had to do this. “I’ll go to the show for you.”
“You will?”
“Yes, but on one condition.”
“Anything, darling!”
“When I get off the phone, you go to the nearest airline counter and book yourself a flight to New York. We’re going to start spending some time together. A lot of time. Otherwise the next time you call and I hear your voice, I’m pressing the disconnect button.”
“I’ll have to check my taping schedule, but I think I’m free the first weekend of next month. Oh, and we can spend Thanksgiving together. And Christmas! How does that all sound?”
“Perfect. And Mother?”
“Yes?”
“Even though you’re more selfish, self-centered and self-absorbed than I’d like, and you worry about your career far too much, I’m glad you’re my mom and I love you.”
“Oh, Paige, those are the nicest words anyone has ever said to me. If I weren’t wearing waterproof mascara, I’d be tearing up! But I am and I’m glad because some photographers are headed this way. Gotta go. Bye!”
Paige laughed. “Good-bye, Mother.”
Paige shut off the phone. She knew it was going to take a while to make things right, but for the first time in a long time, the anger she felt toward her mother was gone.
“What do you mean we can’t go to the Bachelor Auction?”
Anthony, bundled up in a white terry cloth robe, was pacing in front of Paige, a green mud pack on his face, his wet hair wrapped in a turban. He’d been getting ready for the auction when Paige arrived at his penthouse.
“I thought you would have jumped at the chance to go to a soap opera award dinner,” Paige said. “Think of all the celebrities that are going to be there!”
“Any other time, yes. In a heartbeat. But not today! Paige, today’s the day we’ve been waiting for!”
“Well it’s too late now. I promised Camille I’d go for her. I can’t back out. She’d be devastated.”
“Okay, there’s an easy solution to this. You go to the awards dinner. I’ll go to the auction and bid on Max for you. I’ll be your proxy.”
“But I don’t want to go to this soap dinner by myself!” Paige wailed. “I won’t know anyone there.”
Anthony inspected Paige from head to toe. “Paigey-poo, the way you’re dressed, you’re going to have every hunk in daytime lining up for your phone number. You’re not going to be sitting all by your lonesome. Trust me. You look fabulous!”
“I still don’t want to go by myself,” Paige grumbled.
“Well, I can’t be in two places at the same time,” Anthony said.
Just then, the front door opened and a sweaty Paolo walked into the apartment, dropping his basketball and athletic bag on the marble floor. When he got a look at Paige, he did a double take.
“What’s with the outfit?”
Paige gave Paolo a confused look. “What do mean?”
“Did you raid Camille’s closet? That doesn’t look like something you’d normally wear. Can you even breathe in that dress? And what’s with all the makeup on your face? Are you going to a costume party or something?”
“Paige is going to a soap opera awards dinner tonight and she needs an escort,” Anthony said. “I was just about to tell her that you were going to take her.”
Paige gave Anthony a get-real look, but he ignored it.
“Are you outta your mind? No way! I’ve got tickets to the Knicks game tonight. I’m not missing that for anything. Sorry, Paige.” Paolo kicked off his sneakers and headed in the direction of his bedroom.
“Thanks for trying,” Paige said, trying not to feel dejected. So much for Anthony’s theory that Paolo liked her. He hadn’t even noticed what she was wearing. Well, he’d noticed, but not in a good way!
“I’ll be right back,” Anthony said. “Don’t go away.”
Anthony stormed down the hallway to his brother’s bedroom. When he got there, he slammed the door shut behind him.
“Listen and listen good, because I’m only going to say this once,” Anthony said, closing the distance between himself and his brother, who was at his desk, working on his laptop. “You’re taking Paige to that awards dinner tonight.”
“Oh, I am, am I?” Paolo said, eyes glued to his computer screen.
Anthony hit the off button on his brother’s laptop. “Yes, you are! Because if you don’t, I’m going to tell Mom and Dad every secret I have on you, I’m going to steal the batteries from every remote in this penthouse and I’m also going to cancel every sports channel that we have in our cable package.”
“Hey!” Paolo cried, tearing his eyes away from his computer screen. “You just made me lose what I was working on!”
“How stupid are you?” Anthony raged. “Do you know how long it’s taken me to build up Paige’s confidence? To get her to look like that? She looks beautiful! Any guy in his right mind would be drooling over her. But not you! No, not you! What do you do when you see her? Do you compliment her? Do you tell her how great she looks? No! You tear her down! You take away her confidence. You make her feel ugly.”
“I didn’t mean—”
Anthony cut him off. “That’s my best friend out there and nobody hurts her. Nobody! Not even you!”
“Ants, I was only kidding around with her.”
“Well it wasn’t very funny. And if you care for Paige the way I think you do…”
Anthony watched as his brother swallowed nervously.
“That’s right, Pow, I’m on to you.”
“On to what?”
“Don’t try to deny it. I know what’s going on. I’ve noticed the way you get jealous whenever Max’s name is mentioned. You’re interested in Paige. I don’t know if she’d be interested in you—after all, you drive her crazy—but if you don’t want Max to have her then you better do something about it.
“Now I’m going back out there and I’m going to tell Paige that you’ve agreed to take her to that awards dinner. When I get back in here, you’d better be showered and shaved and dressed like you could be shot for the cover of GQ. Otherwise I’m going to buy an ice pick and puncture every soccer ball, tennis ball, basketball and football in this penthouse!”
With those final words, Anthony left Paolo’s bedroom and returned to Paige with a huge smile on his face.
“Guess what? Paolo made a mistake about his tickets. The game’s tomorrow night so he can take you to the dinner.”
“He can?” Paige asked suspiciously.
“Yep.”
“Are you sure?”
“He’s getting ready right this instant.”
“What did you have to do to get him to agree to go?”
“Nothing. I swear. So here’s the plan. You and Paolo are going to the dinner; I’m going to the auction. You don’t have to stay for the whole dinner, do you?”
“No, just for Camille’s award. I’m sure we can leave after I accept it.”
“Once that happens, call me. I’ll let you know what’s going on at my end. Then we’ll join up and lay our cards down on the table with Max. Just think, by the end of tonight, we’re going to know if he’s gay or straight.”
“Are you ready to go, Paige?”
Paige turned around to see Paolo wearing an L & F tuxedo. His hair was slicked back and he had a trace of five o’clock shadow. Devilishly handsome was what sprang into her mind.
“You clean up pretty nice,” she said. “Are you sure you want to come? I can go by myself. It’s no big deal.”
“Are you kidding? You look sensational. I should have told you that when I first came in, but you caught me by surprise. It’s just that usually you don’t dress up so much. I like it.”
“That tuxedo fits you like a glove,” Anthony raved. “Maybe you should skip Paige’s dinner and come with me to Peppington Prep. I could make a bundle auctioning you off.”
Paige threw herself across Paolo’s chest, holding on tight. “Back off! He’s mine!”
Hmmm. She’d never noticed it before, but Paolo had a nice chest. Firm. Muscular. And his biceps weren’t too bad either. For a last-minute date, she hadn’t done too badly.
Paolo held his arm out to Paige and gave her a smile. “Shall we?”
Paige hooked her arm through his. “Let’s.”