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shrugs. “I suppose you would have to ask him about that.”
    “So how does it feel to be rubbing elbows with the
Malibu Beach
crowd again?” another reporter asks Paige.
    Paige smiles brightly. “I can’t wait to see Brogan’s new line of beachwear.”
    “And you’re not worried that some of the cast, including Brogan Braxton, still bear some ill will toward you? Especially in light of the late Mia Renwick? You know Mia and Brogan were quite close.”
    “It’s obvious by my presence here today that I harbor no hard feelings toward any of the
Malibu Beach
cast,” she answers. “And, although I deeply regret Mia’s death as much as anyone, I had nothing to do with the actual event. Brogan wouldn’t have invited me to join her today unless we were on friendly terms.” She flashes them a smile then links her arm into mine. “Now my sister and I are off to see what this new BBB line really looks like.”
    “Nicely done,” I say quietly as we go into the hotel lobby, trailed by JJ and his camera. There I notice several people from the
Malibu Beach
crowd milling about. I’m surprised they’re not in the show, but maybe Mollie was right about how they feel about Brogan. Like us, the
Malibu
girls are wearing sun-friendly outfits, but compared to Paige, I think they look rather frumpy and dowdy. As we walk by, everyone says hi, smiling and waving as if we’re all good friends.
    Paige leads the way, following the BBB signs out to the pool area, which is all set for the fashion show. Glistening glass patio tables with turquoise umbrellas and comfy-looking white chairs surround the pool, which is decorated with brightly colored floating flowers. There’s a strip of white canvas running alongside the pool, and I assume that’s supposed to be the runway. As a photographer, I’m thinking this is a nice setup. The models should look good with the blue water background.
    “Very nice,” Paige says as we take in the scene. JJ is rolling film and it appears Brogan has more going on than weassumed. Each table has a tropical flower arrangement and some seashells, along with placards with the guests’ names listed. Really, it seems well planned and swanky in a beachy sort of way. An usher hurries over to escort us to a table up near the platform where I assume the models will enter the show. But, unlike the other tables, this table has no umbrella and it’s in direct sunlight, which feels like about a hundred degrees at the moment.
    Paige shakes her head. “No … no, this will not do.”
    The usher looks surprised. “But this table is for you.” He points to the placard with our names on it. “You
are
Paige Forrester, right?”
    Paige looks around the pool area. The tables are starting to fill up, but there are still a few empty ones. “Over there,” she says to the guy. And, realizing what she’s up to, I pick up the placard with our name and follow her, and he follows me as Paige leads us to a table on the opposite side of the pool. I notice JJ is running his camera the whole time, but that’s not unusual. It’s always better to have too much film than not enough.
    Paige stops at a table that not only has an umbrella, but is partially shaded by the palm trees behind it. She picks up the placard, which ironically has the names Benjamin Kross and Vince Stewart on it, and hands it to the surprised usher.
    “I know these guys,” she informs him in a familiar tone. “I’m sure they will totally understand this switch.” She sets down her purse and points to an open area behind our new table. “And now there’s room for our camera crew as well. This is perfect!” She flashes him her smile and thanks him profusely. He looks slightly star struck, and there’s a spring in his step as he carries Ben and Vince’s placard to the sun-baked table across from us.
    “Much better,” she tells me.
    “Nice move,” I say.
    “Are you ready to do some behind-the-scenes filming now?” JJ asks Paige. “I think