by JJ Knight
“Nothing about this is fun,” Blitz says. He lunges forward and snatches the frosting bottle from her. “And I hope they’re paying you well, because this is the end of the line for you. You are easily the most hated woman in America.”
She shrugs. “There’s a career in villainy.”
“Not if nobody wants to work with you because you pull stunts like this,” Blitz fires back.
The shop owner holds a pink dish towel in her hands, but she looks afraid to pass it to me. Nobody seems to want to move.
Blitz spots her and storms over to grab the towel. “Shut the cameras off or I will sue this entire operation into oblivion and not a single frame will see the light of day.”
He walks up and wipes at my cheeks. “I am so sorry, Livia. I had no idea.”
The trance on everyone else seems to be broken as there’s a sudden flurry of activity.
Jessie runs up. “I’ll get more towels,” she says. We’ve already covered this one in frosting.
The secondary camera man tries to approach with his rig, but Blitz turns with a threatening stance. “You take one more second of footage and I will smash that thing.”
The man puts the camera down.
Kendra shakes her head as she comes up to me. “Sometimes I hate this business. There’s a bathroom back here. Let’s go.”
Giselle has stepped aside, leaning against the wall, a smirk on her face.
“I want her OUT of here,” Blitz says. “Or this whole deal is off!”
“I thought you said it was already off,” Giselle says with a laugh. “Blitz, you really have to think before you talk.”
I don’t hear any more because we enter the bathroom and close the door.
I have no idea what will happen from here.
Chapter 13
Blitz calls an emergency meeting that night. Only Drake Addler is actually in town, so we have to do it by video conference.
My face is still a little pink in places from the frosting stain. Kendra is supposed to come by later with some sort of cleanser that will take it off. Regular soap isn’t cutting it, no matter how much I scrub.
I stay out of range of the web cam as Blitz conducts the meeting. There is plenty of shouting on his end. Drake and Taya assure him that the order to bring in Giselle didn’t come from them.
“We have given Devon free reign,” Taya says.
“We need to discuss his future in this production,” Blitz says. “What happened was uncalled for. If he wants to save this show on the back of Livia’s humiliation, I will kill the franchise myself.”
“I’ll speak to Devon,” Taya says. “I’ll make it understood that this is supposed to be a sweet, lovely fantasy. Giselle is disrupting it.”
Blitz motions me over. I hesitate but walk a little closer. “I want you to say it to her. She’s the one Giselle is going after.”
The screen is split to show all their faces. I give a little wave.
“We’re so sorry,” Drake says. “Devon was out of line.”
I want to say that everyone had to be in on it, not just Devon, but I don’t. It doesn’t matter now. It’s done.
Blitz shuts down the computer. “I don’t buy it,” he says. “Nobody was surprised.”
“Jessie was,” I say.
“Is that the only person loyal to us?” he asks. “Jessie?”
“I guess they’re worried about their next paycheck. What’s the word on the next season?”
Blitz pushes away from the desk and heads to the sofa. He looks tired. I know how he feels. I’m tired too. And pink.
“They’re not casting the next bachelor until after our wedding. The network isn’t positive the show can sustain another season.”
He plunks down, letting his head fall back on the black leather. I sit beside him and lay my head on his shoulder. His T-shirt is soft and warm. He puts his arm around me.
“You think they’ll try something else to boost ratings?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” Blitz says. “Is Devon working alone? Is someone paying Giselle?”
“Lance was noticeably absent from the call.”
“I know,” Blitz says. “He’s always had a thing for Giselle.”
“Why is she doing this? Can’t she move on?”
“Not until she’s got somewhere to go. This is her best shot at staying on people’s minds.”
We sit for a while, just close and quiet. Eventually Kendra buzzes us from the lobby and we send her up.
Blitz stays on the sofa as Kendra and I head to the bathroom. The pink is definitely faded, but in the harsh lights over the mirror, I can still see an outline of a reddish tint along one cheek.
“Stupid cheap dye in that stuff,” Kendra says, turning over a bottle and soaking a cotton ball.
“When did you find out it was going to happen?” I ask her.
She stares at the yellow-soaked cotton for a moment.
I don’t know if she’ll be truthful. I’ve never been close with Kendra. I only see her on shooting days when she comes to do the styling of our clothes and the set. But she has been with Dance Blitz since the first season. Surely she cares at least a little about the show’s reputation. And Blitz.
She sighs and lifts her hand to rub the cotton ball on my cheek. “This morning. Just before you got there, we got the briefing about a surprise visitor. Nobody knew about the frosting. I assure you that.”
“Who told you?”
“Devon,” she says. “I think the plan was for Giselle to show up and provoke Blitz to say some things that would make for good promo clips. I’m pretty sure the frosting was her idea.”
This makes sense. Giselle would see an opening and take it to the next level.
I’ll have to tell Blitz this. He might not be as angry with Devon if he knows it was just the usual antics that were planned.
“She’s supposed to be a bridesmaid, you know,” Kendra says. “I got the specs on her dress and all. Maybe they’re keeping it hush hush, but I know her measurements.”
My stomach turns to lead. Giselle, at the wedding? If she’s willing to do frosting on camera, what will she do during the ceremony?
“Surely they won’t let her after this,” I say.
“You never can tell. Dance Blitz has been a cash cow.” She drops the cotton ball and turns my cheek to the light. “It’s not just the show. But all the merchandizing and reruns and DVD. It’s a lot to lose.”
She soaks another ball and runs it over my skin. “We’ve just about got this.”
The lights buzz as she works. Otherwise the suite is silent.
Finally, Kendra sits back. “I think we’ve got it.”
“Thank you for helping. I would have no idea how to get that color off.”
She nods and tosses the used cotton into the trash. “I’ll keep my ear to the ground about what’s planned for tomorrow’s bridesmaid outing. I’ll let Jessie know if anything is untoward.”
“I guess she was supposed to be a surprise again?” I ask.
“I can only assume. There is definitely a dress in her size waiting to be tried on at the salon tomorrow.”
Suddenly I’m dreading this thing. I already have to face red-silk naked girl. And now Giselle? There isn’t a single one of the ten bridesmaids on the list that I know. Mariah and Christy, the other two finalists from my season, turned it down. I don’t blame them, really.
And if Giselle would spray frosting, what would the red-silk girl do? Have a wardrobe malfunction during the vows?
Kendra packs away her bottles and cotton. “I can see this whole thing is a strain on you. You can always walk away.”
“Sixty-three million dollars,” I say.
She nods. “I get it. But sometimes you have to wonder what the price of your freedom is.”
I walk her to the door. Blitz just waves from the sofa, his face covered with his arm.
When she’s gone, I stand with my back to the wall, looking at him, casual in sweats and a T-shirt, his foot tapping
with anxiety. He looks anxious, miserable.
We both are.
How much should we have to sacrifice to Dance Blitz?
Chapter 14
Wardrobe arrives at six in the morning since our filming is at nine. The bridal shop we’re invading has only given Devon until noon, and then they have to be open for normal business.
Kendra isn’t here, but my favorite hairdresser Cecilia is. She gives me a long hug. “I hear things went south yesterday,” she says.
“Please tell me you didn’t know about Giselle,” I say.
“Not a bit. We’re all pissed as hell. If you quit, game’s over for us,” she says.
“Don’t you work other shows?” I ask.
“Sure, but nobody has a budget like this!” she says. “It takes four other gigs to make up for this one. That’s why we’re all still here.”
She sits me down at the bathroom mirror. “Let’s give you your crown. Today we’re taking you from princess to queen.”
She works on my hair while the others fiddle with the dress and argue about shoes. A makeup artist arrives to give me a clean, pure look, so she says. I wonder what sort of look they’re giving red-silk girl. And somebody is probably working on Giselle.
They’re efficient and quick, so by seven-thirty, we’re packing to leave. Blitz is still in his sweats. He has the day off. The early wedding planning is mostly about me, although he does have a tux shoot tomorrow.
Maybe that’s where they’ll send red-silk girl. My stomach knots.
Blitz comes to the door as we head out. “I’d tell you to break a leg, princess, but maybe break one of theirs,” he says. He’s a lot calmer about this now that he knows Devon didn’t plan the frosting part of the stunt.
I laugh and kiss his head. “Or two.”
“That’s my girl,” he says.
The entire entourage walks the hall and piles into the elevator. When we get to the bottom, there’s a security detail of three bodyguards, including long lost Duke. We move together in a group, me and Duke at the center.
“You’re back!” I say. “Mack not need you?”
“Mack is all done until his DVD release,” he says. “I’m back with you and Blitz for the moment.”
He walks alongside us in his cowboy hat and sunglasses. His blue jeans and red plaid shirt make him stand out from the other security in all black. The lobby is mostly empty, but he keeps his eye out as we move to the front door.
“Why aren’t we using the private exit?” I ask.
“Filming starts outside,” he says.
I stop in my tracks. “What?”
The wardrobe and makeup people disperse, including Cecilia. I feel naked and exposed, even with Duke and three other men surrounding me.
The glass doors to the outside slide open and Jessie bursts through. She runs in, spots us, and rushes toward me.
“Okay, heads up,” she says. “Full film cameras out there. About four or five hundred fans. All the bridesmaids inside the car,” she says.
The wardrobe people clump together near a cluster of sofas to watch.
“Giselle?” I ask.
“No,” she says.
“How many girls?”
“Nine,” Jessie says.
“So missing one,” I say.
“She was supposed to be there?” Jessie asks.
“We suspect.”
Duke shakes his head. “Gonna be a fun morning!” He presses his finger to his ear, and I see he has a tiny earbud there. “We gotta move.” He takes my arm and tries to lead me forward.
I plant my feet and refuse to go. “Anything else?” I ask Jessie.
“There’s a camera in the limo,” Jessie says. “I’m guessing they want to see your reaction to the other girls.”
“We really have to go,” Duke says.
“Shut it,” I say. “You’re sure Giselle wasn’t in there?”
“Totally sure,” Jessie says.
“Okay.” I stand a little straighter. “Let’s go.”
Duke leads us to the doors.
“You have to go over there,” Duke says to Jessie, pointing to where the rest of the crew has stepped aside. “Only Livia and bodyguards go out those doors right now.”
He seems perturbed at her. I know she can’t be in the shot, but I don’t understand why he cares if she fills me in.
My hands check my hair and flutter across my cheek where the frosting stains were. When will we ever be free of this madness?
When we approach the doors, Duke and the other security guards step away from me so that I appear to be alone as I exit.
As soon as I step through, the crowd goes crazy.
I take it all in. Devon and the main camera are to the right. A second camera on a ladder is to the left. The sleek black limo is directly in front with a fancy doorman I’ve never seen. He wears an outlandish old-fashioned red uniform like some bygone era. He nods at me.
A barrier made of white sawhorses separates the crowd from the circle. Gosh, they’re having to redirect all the regular people coming to the hotel somewhere else for me. Another reason to leave so early in the morning.
I wave at the fans and the noise intensifies. I remember to smile. They are the best part. Although they feed the insanity. When things get crazy, they tune in. When we’re living normal lives, they move elsewhere.
And that’s what makes everyone on the show panic. That there will be no interest from the fans.
Who can live this way for long? Desperately seeking attention? Fearing your career is dead if you don’t feed it?
A sea of faces flash by. Singers. Actors. Rock stars. How do they face this, day in and day out?
“This way, Livia,” the doorman says, pulling on the handle to the limo.
I have to trust that this part will go fine.
I wave once more to all the bystanders and step forward.
Then I hear someone call out.
“Livia! Oh, Livia!”
I look up.
Seriously?
It’s Giselle, all prettied up in a pink dress, her hair a perfect blond updo. “I’m late, but I’m here!” she says.
She walks up and kisses my cheek. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world!”
My head swivels hard. Who planned this?
Devon’s eyebrows are up and his expression is dark. He’s not happy. He got called on the carpet about yesterday, and this was not planned.
The camera guy in front of me swings his rig around, following Giselle as she heads into the limo. The other one stays on me.
Everyone waits for my response.
The security men are stoic, standing with hands clasped by their bellies.
Then I see Duke. He’s come outside with the other guards. His eyes are on the form of Giselle, her pink bottom sticking out as she ducks down and pauses in the car door, looking for a place to sit inside or maybe taking a verbal assault from someone in there who knows she isn’t welcome.
Duke’s face turns to me, and even with the sunglasses, I see it. The self-satisfied smirk.
And the truth arrives in a flash.
It was him.
It was him all along.
Chapter 15
I grab his arm and catch him off balance.
“You asshole!” I hiss, knowing the crowd noise will cover it. “He trusted you!”
Duke cocks his head. He realizes what I know but plays it off. “Don’t worry your pretty little self about it,” he says. “Now go on and get inside the limo.”
“No,” I say, backing away. “I’m done. Totally and completely done.”
“It’s all a little fun,” Duke says. “Keeps everyone in show business.”
“No,” I say. “This isn’t fun at all.”
I turn and rush back inside the hotel. The stupid heels keep me from running as fast as I like, so I kick them off and leave them in the lobby. I see why Cinderella ditched hers. I don’t care who finds them.
I glance back. Devon and Duke have started t
o follow, so I head for the private hall. I’m betting neither of them have a secure pass. As soon as I’m through, I slam the door shut and run to the special elevator that goes direct to the top floor of private suites.
As I expected, the others are stopped by the locked door.
I mash the button, and mercifully, the elevator is already down.
My nerves jangle so badly on the way up that I hear ringing in my ears. I try to put it all together. Duke and Giselle. It had always been Duke and Giselle. He kept getting her ways in. Fed her information. And for what? Sex? Did he care for her?
Why did betrayal always happen at the hands of a love affair?
I’m not sure the others won’t convince the hotel to let them up, so as soon as my doors open, I sprint madly to the suite. The regular elevators ding down the hall, whether with Dance Blitz crew or others staying on this floor, I don’t know. I’m not going to stand around to see.
I swipe the card key and throw myself into the room.
Blitz is standing by the mini bar, pouring orange juice.
“Livia!” he says. “What happened?”
I run to him and bury my face against his soft T-shirt. “Giselle was down there,” I choke out.
“What?” His arms around me tighten. “Is she a bridesmaid?”
“I don’t know.” I pull away enough to look up at him. “It was Duke all along,” I say. “I think they’re having some sort of relationship.”
“Duke?” His voice is incredulous, but I see him thinking about it. Weighing conversations, turning over bits of evidence.
He leads me over to the sofa. “Tell me exactly how it went down.”
I relate to him about the crowd, Giselle’s entrance, Duke’s expression.
“He all but admitted it. Said it keeps everyone in show business.”
Blitz rubs his eyes. “We’ve been best friends forever,” he says.
“Did you feel something change? At any point?” I say my next words carefully. “Like maybe right before that tweet?”
Blitz leans against the back of the sofa. “Hell. I don’t know. He was excited to move out here. Quit his job in construction. Loved driving my car around. Had his own place. The show paid him pretty well, let him in on stuff like the placement of the cameras. I knew there was an agreement about secret footage. He generally let me in on that stuff, gave me a heads up. We were having a good time all through season one.”
