Page 2 of Wicked Dance
I don’t know why she’s annoyed, or why she’s adding lipstick right now. She looks perfectly put together already. She wears a mossy gray-green suit with a pencil skirt, which I realize totally matches me and Blitz.
I’m sure some marketing research has told her that this is what will make her look like she is in charge of us. She wants to ensure that everyone around us asksherwhat to do, not us.
That’s what she does.
Blitz closes his eyes and holds my hand to his cheek. I know he doesn’t want to do this publicity stop. We’ve put ourDance Blitzdays behind us. He’s confident that we can simply buy a house in San Antonio, where real estate is cheap compared to LA, and live comfortably forever on what he’s already earned.
With Dreamcatcher Dance Academy training us, life is perfect. I get to see my birth daughter Gabriella in ballet class. Her adoptive mother still doesn’t know who I am. No one does but Blitz. Our secret has remained safe despite the publicity.
We see no need to change anything. This DVD signing is the end of our public spotlight.
The driver rolls down the window separating the front seat from the back section of the limo. “We’re about to approach,” he says.
Hannah turns to him. “Don’t get out to open the door. We have security waiting who will keep the crowd back as Blitz and Livia enter the building. You’ll drive me around the rear for a quieter entrance.”
The driver nods.
“I miss Ted,” I say. He’s a high school friend of Blitz’s who served as my driver and bodyguard back in San Antonio.
“We can bring him out to LA if you want,” Blitz says.
“That’s okay. We’re only here for a couple more days.”
Hannah snaps her mirror shut. “What happened to Duke? I’m surprised you didn’t want him managing security for this event.”
Blitz shrugs. “I haven’t talked to him since everything went down.”
I squeeze Blitz’s hand. He doesn’t want to make any more than a passing reference to his mega-downfall, where he Tweeted a naked picture of one of the finalists along with a really terrible comment about her. The Tweet went viral and got him kicked off his own show for months. It’s how we met.
Hannah frowns. She picks up her phone and taps a button. “Lisa, check Duke Riordan’s employment status with Blitz’s estate. He’s not doing any duties currently.”
She sets down the phone. “Does he still have access to security?”
Blitz sighs. “I have no idea. I haven’t been to my LA condo since I left town last October.”
Hannah presses her perfectly lined coral lips together. “That was five months ago! And you’ve been paying him, probably to sneak around your place and collect things to sell on eBay. I say bring him back on board or take him off the payroll. It’s high time you got your act together.”
“You think there are still cameras all over your old house?” I ask.
“I’m sure there are,” Blitz says. “I don’t even know how to go about finding them all. Half were hidden behind mirrors or in plants.”
“There are services for that,” Hannah says. “But you’re still obligated to keep them until the end of your contract.”
“You’re still under contract for the show?” I ask.
“That’s why we’re here,” Blitz says.
Hannah looks from me to Blitz and back again. “You two remind everyone what true love looks like, and this will go fine. You’re a team, remember?”
“We’re a team,” I say, and move our clasped hands over to my cheek this time. “This will be fun, right?”
Blitz grunts. I look away from Hannah’s smirk.
We turn the corner and the limo is spotted by the fans lined up around the side of a two-story glass and steel building. The screams begin, so loud and piercing that they penetrate to the interior.
“Whoa,” I say.
“I can tell you right now,” Blitz says to Hannah, his voice low and threatening, “that there is not enough security on that line.”
