Page 92 of Wicked Dance
Chapter 32
The sexy dance show scares the crap out of me, honestly. It’s three days away and Blitz hasn’t rehearsed with me yet, so the dance trainer standing in has to do all the moves, his hands all over my body, the near kisses. I’m not professional at all about it, uptight, anxious, and stiff.
Now that we’re so close to episode four, Amara comes to the rehearsals herself. “This is horrible,” she says. “We have to get Blitz in here.”
Apparently Mariah is having more trouble than I am, so he’s been practicing extra with her. But within a half hour, he’s in the studio.
“I finally get to be sexy with you,” he says. His hair is all over the place.
“Is part of your Mariah dance that she musses your hair?” I ask.
Blitz shakes his head. “Blame Giselle for that. They’re filming all sorts of stupidity in the dressing rooms between rehearsals.”
They aren’t doing that with me. I feel worse than ever, imagining what she is doing, and how little she is probably wearing when she does it.
“Don’t worry,” Blitz says. “She’s playing the tramp card for a reason. She’s got her sights on some upcoming TV drama that is being cast, and she wants as much airtime as she can scrounge.”
“All they have done with me is rehearsal footage and interviews,” I say.
“Oh, it’s coming,” he says. “Your assistant Jessie will get a new schedule today. Shelly told me you and I were going to be filmed at an aerial silk studio and it was supposed to get very friendly.”
Oh my God. My voice shakes as I ask, “They’re going to run the lunch clip, then?”
“Not sure if it will go on air,” he says. “They won’t tell me. But there will be something about it.”
The dance coach starts the music. “We’re going to show you the dance,” he tells Blitz. “You will pick it up very easily. Feel free to improvise.”
God, Blitz watching me do this thing with someone else is a thousand times worse. I stumble twice, miss a lift, and find myself squeezing my eyes shut when he runs his hands down my dance outfit.
Finally, it’s over.
“You really are only good with Blitz, aren’t you?” Amara observes.
Why can’t the cameras be here when she says stuff like that?
“I’ve got the idea,” Blitz says. “Let’s not torture her anymore. Just talk me through it.”
We work, movement by movement, through the number. As always, Blitz learns quickly, first getting the basics, then adding finesse and flair. By the end of an hour, we have a rough working dance.
“We’re good with her for the day,” Amara says. “We’ll hit it again tomorrow.”
Shelly pops her head in. “Blitz, Studio B for Giselle in five.”
Gah. Her again.
I turn to Jessie, who is sitting in the corner with my bag. “What do I have next?” I ask her.
She pulls out the paper schedule. “Just says dance block,” she says. “Then a costume fitting in an hour.”
I wait for Amara and Blitz to leave, then ask the dance coach if we’re good for today.
“Sure,” he says. “You do much better with Blitz anyway.”
“This dance is hard for me,” I say, heading for the door. I wave for Jessie to follow.
“Where are we going?” she asks.
“Studio B,” I say. “I want to know if there are cameras.”
