Chapter 2
“My parents might see this,” I whisper to Blitz as the reporter stops the recording and repeats it all again. She’s obviously not live.
“And what will they do?” Blitz asks. “Ground you?” He walks us over to the table, a little farther from the cameramen setting up lights and tripods. “You’re with me now. They don’t control you.”
“But if everyone finds out who they are, people might camp out at their house and ask them questions,” I say.
He kisses my hand for the hundredth time that day. “Livia, nobody bothers my parents. Remember at the city jail a few weeks ago, picking up Baby Daddy? Nobody even recognized my dad.”
He’s right. Maybe nobody really cares about my family.
“Besides,” Blitz says, “we’ve given them a fake last name for you. With no social media footprint, and no connections to anyone, they can’t find you. Nobody knows where you came from.”
He’s right. Hannah came up with Livia Mays, close enough to my real name that I wouldn’t screw it up if someone used it, but common enough to be generic. For the first time, I’m glad I was homeschooled. There is literally nothing on the Internet anywhere with my real name or picture. Nobody knows me. There’s no glib classmates to interview, no high school teachers to say what I was like.
Although due to Gabriella, there are definitely secrets to dig up. Big ones.
My confidence falters again.
Hannah claps her hands. “Douglas,” she says, smiling at one of the reporters, “why don’t you place Livia and Blitz where you would like them, and we can start?”
Blitz and I glance at each other. Hannah never gives up control of these things. She must think this guy is important.
A friendly man in a shiny gray suit that looks like it came off a runway model, almost too short in the legs, pencil thin, and close fitted, hurries forward and extends his hand. “Blitz, Livia, delighted to be here today. I appreciate this opportunity to talk with you both.”
I shake his hand weakly.
“Hey, Doug,” Blitz says, “I hear you’re short-listed for the new entertainment hour.”
“That I am,” Doug says. “Decision on that should be announced any day.”
I can tell from Blitz’s subtle reluctance that he thinks this Doug guy is going to do something dramatic to increase his chances of getting whatever show this is. He’s wary, so of course I’m panicked. Even more than before.
Hannah watches from a distance, a pleased expression on her face, like she’s a cat that just got the dog sent outside in the rain.
My anxiety makes me feel hot. I touch my fingertips to my hairline, where I might be starting to sweat. I’m more likely to destroy my makeup than Blitz at this point.
Doug gestures to a couple of armchairs situated at the end of the rows of books behind the tables where we’re signing. “Let’s head over here.”
Without Doug saying a word, a girl in a black shirt shoves a third armchair over to the first pair. The other cameramen and reporters seem annoyed as Doug commandeers the situation. Another girl clips tiny silver microphones to my dress and Blitz’s shirt.
“Is this an exclusive?” asks the female reporter who recorded her intro. “Because nobody told me this was exclusive.”
“Of course not,” Doug says. “You guys can cut in anytime.”
But his chair is close enough that it’s probably hard to keep him out of the shot. And I’m pretty sure the woman won’t want Doug’s voice in her recording.
The tension between them is intense. Blitz leans forward in his chair, his elbows on his knees. “Doug, maybe you can ask a few questions, and then we’ll move on to…” he hesitates, looking at the woman expectantly.
“Geneva,” the woman says with an edge in her voice. “Geneva Farmington from the local affiliate.”
“Thanks for being here, Geneva,” Blitz says. He flashes her one of his megawatt smiles and she melts a little.
I’m not annoyed by this. I know it’s one of his tactics. He has them for men too. He’s very good at sizing up a person and delivering the right dose of attitude or charm.
Doug nods knowingly. “Always good to keep the locals happy,” he says. “Of course, mine is a national broadcast.”
“A cable broadcast,” Geneva fires back. “National networks will pick up mine.”
Blitz doesn’t really seem up for moderating them. He glances at Hannah. Normally she would be all over this like she was with the store owner, but for some reason, she’s perfectly happy to sit back and let the situation unfold.
“Let’s get going,” Blitz says. “I don’t really like making the fans wait.”
The thick round arms of the upholstered chairs keep me and Blitz separate. We can’t easily reach each other to so much as hold hands.
“So what are your plans for the three unfinished bonus episodes?” Doug asks. “Since this lovely lady took over the job of the contestants, will we be meeting her family and watching you two plan a wedding?”
Blitz’s expression gets hard. “Livia is not part of the deal, Doug,” he says. “And as far as I’m concerned, those three episodes are digital smoke.”
“What do you think, Livia?” Doug asks. “Are you ready for Blitz to meet your family?”
I glance at Blitz. “Not on camera,” I say shakily. “I don’t think they’ve agreed to that.”
Doug laughs. “I doubt it. Were you ready for the load of fame that came with Blitz?”
Blitz jumps in. “We’re working on our dancing together,” he says. “We’ve only just started to figure out our personal style.”
Doug flashes a knowing grin. “You just said ‘our.’ Are there wedding plans on the horizon?”
I can see when Blitz settles in and decides to pour out the charm. He sits back in the chair, lacing his fingers together behind his head. This is the Blitz I remember from watching talk show clips before I knew him.
“I imagine Livia has a say in that,” he says. “I figure I better show her I’m not a carousing schmuck. Tall order.”
The two men laugh. Blitz has Doug’s number. Now he’ll feed him what he needs to get this over and done.
I hold my hands together tightly, sitting tall, mostly anxious that my skirt is short enough that I might give the cameras a crotch shot. My thighs ache from holding my knees together.
“How about those three lovelies from the show?” Doug asks. “Have you heard from them? Did they seem upset about the outcome?”
Blitz flashes a smile. “You’ll have to talk to my lawyers about that one, Doug. You know women.”
My face flames a bit at this one. I glance over at Hannah to see if Blitz is behaving the way she wants. Her arms are crossed, a twisted smile on her face. She sees me looking at her, and moves her fingers to the corners of her mouth to remind me to smile.
Uggh. I plaster one on and turn back to Blitz. When he sees me, his expression shifts, like he realizes he’s fallen into his old pattern. He sits forward again and reaches over the top of the two chair arms to find my hand.
“Are you quite through, Doug?” Geneva stands just off camera, her microphone in her hand.
Doug glances at Hannah, and I feel Blitz stiffen, his hand on mine painfully tight. I turn my attention to him, wondering what is going on.
And that’s when I see them.
All three of them, dressed in flashy dresses, tons of cleavage, model-perfect hair, strolling in like they are the horsemen from the apocalypse.
The angry dethroned finalists from Dance Blitz.