Free Catwalk by Melody Carlson

to invite you back next week to talk about On the Runway at Fashion Week.”
    “I guess we should make the most of it.” Paige nods. “Besides, it might actually help some other unsuspecting girl to not make the same mistake.”
    “By the way,” Fran adds. “Helen said that Prada is probably sending you a little something as a consolation gift. We’ll check with the concierge at the hotel tomorrow.”
    Paige doesn’t even respond as she opens a thick edition of Vogue. “You know, I’d just like to forget about the whole thing…for a while.”
    “Me too,” I agree.
    Paige leans back into the seat with a contented expression. “First class is definitely the way to go.”
    “That was so cool that the airline upgraded us,” I tell her. “I mean, it’s not like they were responsible for the security people.”
    “But what a price to pay.” Paige sighs.
    “I’ll say.” I slowly shake my head. Then I peer curiously at my sister, suddenly wondering if she might’ve intentionally pulled that whole crazy stunt just to get…No, that is waytoo extreme. Even for a drama queen like Paige. But it just figures that she would end up with a payoff like this. My sister sometimes takes a beating, but she usually lands on her feet.
    “So what time do we get in to New York?” I ask Fran.
    “We probably won’t get settled in our hotel until nearly midnight,” she says.
    “Midnight?” Paige looks surprised. “And what time do we have to get up for Good Morning America ?”
    “They want us in the studio by six thirty.”
    Paige does not look pleased. “So that’s like three in the morning West Coast time?”
    “Yes, but you shouldn’t think about it like that,” Fran warns. “Set your clock on Eastern time and just forget—”
    “So I’ll be getting a few hours’ sleep, if I’m lucky, and at three in the morning I have to show up at Good Morning America looking fresh and pretty and fashionable and chic?”
    “Fashionable and chic, always.” Fran nods. “Fresh and pretty…? Well, let’s just settle for a worn-out sort of pretty. Everyone will know you’ve been through an ordeal.”
    “Don’t worry,” I assure Paige. “By tomorrow, you’ll be looking gorgeous again.” And , I think to myself, I’ll be looking for a camera to hide behind.

Chapter 8
    After a relatively pleasant and un-eventful flight, it’s about eleven when we finally make our way to baggage claim in LaGuardia. Our internal clocks still seem to be on Pacific time, where it’s only eight, so we chatter amongst ourselves as we wait for the luggage near the airport office, where our bags would be stored because of the earlier flight. But then we wait and wait and wait…and you’d think that our luggage would be easy to find with all of Paige’s pink bags, but after about twenty minutes we realize we have a problem.
    Fortunately, Fran is on top of it. She’s already notified a man who is trying to track down the whereabouts of our bags. “It sounds like they’re stowed somewhere else, and if we stick around we can just take them with us instead of waiting for someone from the airline to deliver them to the hotel.”
    “I’ll feel better waiting,” Paige tells her. “Especially with Good Morning America in the morning. All my hair accessories and cosmetics are in a checked bag.”
    But after nearly an hour, we are worried and antsy. “Whatif they really lost our bags?” I ask Fran after she informs us that they weren’t on our original New York flight.
    “They have lost our bags, Erin,” Paige says impatiently. “Aren’t you listening?”
    “I mean lost them for good. ”
    Suddenly Paige looks like she’s about to cry or maybe just scream uncontrollably. And I realize I’d better not push this girl’s buttons.
    “The bags have to be somewhere,” Fran reassures us. “And Paige’s pink luggage would be hard to misplace—for long anyway. I’m sure they’ll be at our hotel by morning.”
    “Yes,” I say