Page 59 of Wicked Dance
Chapter 18
On Wednesday afternoon of that week, Blitz pops in my workout room at the studio. He’s completely decked out in a suit, perfect hair, and shiny shoes.
“Whoa,” I say, pausing my third set of ab crunches for the day. “You’re all wardrobed up.”
“Date night with Christy,” he says. “It was on the schedule.” He angles his head toward Jessie. “Ask her to get a copy of mine to go with yours. That way you’ll know when I’m going to be gone.”
My belly turns to cement. “Where are you filming?”
“Some restaurant and ballroom dance place. We’re supposed to spontaneously perform. It’s all extras. They bought out the place.”
“Sounds fun. Isn’t she the one you’re taking to the condo?”
“Yep.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “You going to be okay tonight?”
I nod. “Sure. Is Duke going to take me to the hotel? Our furniture was supposed to be delivered today for move-in.”
Blitz smacks his hand against the door frame. “Shoot. Today was supposed to be our first night!” He gives me a sad smile. “You wanna wait up for me there?”
At that, Jessie and the workout coach quietly exit the room. I don’t blame them. They probably think I’m about to make some big scene.
But I won’t.
“We’re not checked out of the hotel yet, right? I’ll ask Shelly to extend us one more night. We’ll let tomorrow night be our first night there.”
Blitz frowns. “I’m filming with Mariah tomorrow night.”
I let out a breath. “How late will these go?”
“They need night shots. I think I’m walking along the Santa Monica pier with her. It will probably go super late. I don’t even have rehearsal until after lunch either day.”
I bite my lip, holding back tears. “Well, in that case, I guess I’ll go ahead and move as planned. Shelly’s probably already got them packing our stuff and driving it over anyway.”
He steps closer and kneels next to me on the mat. “I’ll be there tonight, I promise. The part with Christy will go fast. We won’t be at my condo for long.”
I nod, resuming my sit-ups. I knew what I signed up for. Blitz has to put on a show.
“Hey,” he says, pressing against my back so I can’t go down into another sit-up. “I love you, remember? This is just work.”
He gathers me against him. I hang on. He smells different, like hair products and aftershave, things he doesn’t ordinarily wear. This helps. They’ve doctored him up for a role. He’s not my Blitz. He’s the version that belongs to the network.
I let him go. “I’ll be the one sleeping in your new bed,” I say.
“I can’t wait to see you in it,” he says. He stands up. “Jessie? You out there?”
Jessie steps timidly inside. “Yes?”
“What’s on Livia’s schedule for tomorrow morning?”
Jessie slides a messenger bag around her body, the one that carries all my things, cell phone, schedule, water, snacks. She unrolls a sheaf of papers. “Eight a.m. ballet workout with Caprice, then a dance rehearsal with Amara at ten. Wardrobe fitting at eleven.”
“Tell Caprice she won’t be at the rehearsal. We’ll be here for Amara at ten.”
Jessie nods. “I will.”
“Tell them Blitz said it, not Livia.”
Jessie nods again. “Got it.”
