Page 68 of Forbidden Dance
I have to know what he said about it. Maybe he was upset, blindsided by what happened. Maybe he was told to behave a certain way or he’d be fired.
I want to believe anything, anything but that he enjoyed it, wanted it, sought this meeting out.
I open the drawer again and go back to his messages. I read through them quickly.
I’m guessing you know by now I’m not in San Antonio. I will come back, Livia. I know we’ve barely gotten started but I can’t let you go.
Headed to the studio for the first talk show. I hope it goes well.
Just got out of rehearsal for the show. It should go easy. Just some chatter and a few clips from the video. It’s going well. Miss you already.
Then a few hours later.
Shit, shit, shit, Livia. Don’t watch the show. It was horrible. They got me. They pulled one of their stupid ratings-seeking pranks and had Giselle on the show. It was insane. Please believe that I didn’t know anything about it.
I take in a deep breath. I believe him. He’s too upset for it not to be true.
I’m so angry about this, Livia. The producers have a whole set of appearances for me, and I fear everyone wants Blitz back. Old Blitz. I’m good for ratings. Apparently assholes sell. We have a contract meeting on Monday.
There is a day gap after that.
I don’t know what to say, Livia. I got to rehearsal for the second show, and they wanted a dance number from season two. It’s like the bad stuff never happened. I thought we’d talk about the Dreamcatcher dancers, your girls. But nobody cares about that. They just care if I still have a show, and if I still act crazy enough to garner lots of views.
Then hours later.
The show is recorded. The dance number is good, but it’s all so crazy. I have two more to do. I don’t mind the dancing. All the girls are really talented. It’s just the rest of it.
My heart feels stabbed. Of course those girls are good.
The next one is over the weekend.
Gotten through the scheduled shows. I’ve asked for a break. The meeting is Monday. I want to try and come home for Thanksgiving Day. I don’t know if you’re getting the messages, or if your father has taken the phone. I’ll try calling Dreamcatcher Monday and talk to Danika. If she won’t give you a message, I’ll try Jacob. Then the Tappin’ Grandmas. They’ll do it!
This makes me smile. He’s trying hard. He sounds tired.
I wonder how those other dance numbers went. Until last Sunday, I hadn’t told Mindy not to tell me about Blitz. So she probably sent more links before I stopped her.
Should I look at them, or keep reading Blitz? I want the whole picture. And to see these “talented girls.”
I switch over to Mindy’s messages.
This one isn’t as bad as the last one, but they are definitely making him into his old self. Did you touch those abs? Because, wow.
This makes me click. It’s another show, and it begins with a dance number of just Blitz. He’s wearing a white suit with a matching old-fashioned hat. There’s a park bench, and he dances on and around it until a girl appears. She’s wearing a flapper-style dress.
Then another comes, and another. He’s trying to decide who to dance with.
One takes off his jacket, then another his vest. The girls get more frenzied, and the dancing whirls faster. He spins one after another after another until one tears off his shirt.
I see the abs moment. I swallow. I should have touched them. I was just so frightened all the time. I hadn’t wanted to lose control, and by the time I was ready, it was too late.
The other shows are a mix of talking and dancing. One of them, a super-tame morning show, actually does show a clip from the wheelchair girls.
But the Giselle girl appears again in the last one. And the other two contestants. The host convinces them to have a kissing contest and the studio audience judges the hotness level.
I watch him kiss only one of the girls, and I have to stop the video. Too much. Thankfully, it’s the last of the clips. There are no more to torture myself with.
But the frozen still shows me something I had started to notice. Blitz is smiling. His honest-to-goodness, happy grin. He’s enjoying himself now. And he wasn’t fighting that kiss. He was into it. Giving it all to the camera.
