Page 60 of Wicked Dance
Blitz turns back to me. “Bought us a lazy morning at the new place.”
I squeeze his hand. “Thank you.”
He presses another light kiss on my mouth and stands up. “I guess I’ll go do this thing.” He straightens his tie. “Christy is easygoing. This one will be fine.”
“It’s Giselle,” we both say at the same time, and laugh.
“When is that lovely date?” I ask.
“Next week.”
“And mine?”
“You are Monday.” He heads to the door. “I got to choose the date, and they aren’t allowed to leak it to you.”
“Sounds like fun,” I say.
“See you at home,” he says.
“Bye, Blitz.”
By the time the workout coach is back, I’ve resumed my ab crunches. I feel better, despite knowing Blitz will be out with Christy tonight. The cameras will be on their every move.
Still, I picture him kissing her, which I’m sure will be scripted or at least highly encouraged, and my stomach turns over.
This is going to be way harder than I thought.
~*´`*~
Duke is with Blitz for the evening, and he feeds me shots of the date with Christy while I supervise the team who is unpacking all our clothes.
I sit on the freshly made bed in the master bedroom, chain-eating chocolate cookies, simultaneously scrolling through the shots and showing the two women which drawers will be mine and which will go to Blitz.
As weird as it feels to have someone else arranging my stuff, I’m too tired to do anything more than sit and eat cookies, which were left by the real estate agent Tammy. A whole dozen of them and a bottle of wine. I might eat them all.
Shelly was here for a while, but I sent her home. Supposedly some grocery service will arrive within the hour to fill the fridge and pantry. She’s mostly working with the chef’s suggestions, but I had her add more chocolate chip cookies. My life has been missing cookies since I got to LA. Tammy was good to remind me of them.
“I think that’s everything,” one of the women says. They are both Hispanic and friendly, and just looking at them makes me miss Blitz. Has he called his mother since we’ve been here? I’m not sure. I should remind him.
“Thank you,” I say. I’m too tired to even show them out, but thankfully, they leave on their own. Now that I don’t have an audience, I flop back on the fluffy cotton duvet.
Another buzz from Duke.
Yes, he kissed her, but it was a silly peck. Devon’s irritated.
A picture is attached, and I have to laugh. Blitz looks positively paternal as he leans in to Christy.
She looks incredibly lovely in an ice-white dress with little crystals along the neckline. They are at some restaurant on a dance floor and the lights make them look blue. It will be a good scene for the show.
I eat another cookie, hoping the grocery shopper brings some milk. Cookies and wine. Maybe that will do.
It will be hours before Blitz comes. They haven’t even gone to the condo yet. I roll off the bed and head to the bathroom, looking around. There are towels now, all in various dusty pastels. A basket of shampoos and conditioners. Body wash. Razors. They’ve thought of everything.
For a moment, I flash to the bathroom at my parents’ house back in San Antonio. My brother’s Star Wars toothbrush. The Ivory soap and discount shampoo. A wave of homesickness passes through me.
I wonder if my parents will ever speak to me again, or if they are lost to me. What do they tell Andy about his sister? That she ran away? That I’m wicked and full of sin?
I can’t even visit the places we used to go, so far away from Texas. I head back to the bed and my phone, pulling up Google Maps so I can zoom in on my dystopian park, bare ground and peeling equipment. Then down along the street to my house. The image shows Mom’s old white minivan, the license plate blurred out.
