Page 82 of Wicked Dance
“The first elimination round is big. I have to get rid of several girls at once to thin the field of contestants. If anyone on the crew, from the assistants to the cameramen to the wardrobe people, felt someone was caving in, they would tell their supervisor. Devon would get it, and issue me a blue card, which meant I had to eliminate them.”
“Would I have gotten a blue card after last night?”
Blitz wraps his arms around me. “I think you did fine. I know you felt like you were frozen and overwhelmed, but you didn’t show it. Have you looked at any of the commentary on the premiere?”
I shake my head.
He reaches over for his phone. “Let’s see. I’ll read you some.”
I shift and snuggle up against him. I know he won’t read me anything I can’t handle.
“Okay, here we go. ‘Livia kept her cool while Giselle played the fool. Let’s vote that ho off on the first episode.’”
I smile. The public doesn’t mince words.
“And another one. ‘Livia was like a calm queen among the reality TV attention whores, including Blitz. She can do better.’”
This makes me laugh. “Who is better than you?”
“Oh, you’ll get plenty of suggestions. In fact, I think there were at least five marriage proposals on Twitter last night. Duke was forwarding those.”
“I like Duke.”
“Yeah, he’s all right.”
“I didn’t trust him after the Twitter thing. I thought he was involved.”
Blitz shuts off his phone. “I admit to having my concerns too. But it wouldn’t really be any benefit to him to tank my career. He’d be out of a job.”
“Where is this signing thing?”
“At a bar one of the producers owns.”
“Not the mean red-faced one.”
“No, the quiet one, Drake Addler.”
“His name sounds familiar. Not just as a producer. But something before.”
Blitz plays with a loose curl that is falling down my cheek. “He was a child actor. Did a show where he was a Dennis the Menace type kid living with a rich family.”
“I remember that!” I used to watch reruns of the show, in the time before my father took the television away.
“He was smart with his money. Now he produces other shows.”
“So we like him?”
“He’ll be there. You can judge for yourself.” Then, realizing what he’s said, “If you want to go.”
I realize I have no help. No wardrobe. No makeup. “When does it start?”
He checks his watch. “About three hours.”
“Is there any way I can get Cecilia here?”
“I’ll call Shelly.”
“Okay. I’ll go shower.”
Blitz smiles. “That’s my princess.”
I uncurl myself from the sofa. I’m better. I see how things are. And Giselle is good for us. She draws all the attention and takes all the negative hits. Of course Devon would capitalize on that.
They are making Giselle into a cliché, the bad girl, the whore. And there’s one thing that tends to be true in Hollywood.
The bad girl never wins.
