We head down the stairs of the private plane and onto the tarmac the next day. I’m surprised to see Jessie standing by the hired car that will escort us to our hotel.
I rush up to her and envelop her in a huge hug. “Hannah found you!”
Her hair has grown long, lustrous and brown. She’s still tiny, like the dancer she was before her injury led her to be my assistant on Dance Blitz.
She’s over a year older, probably eighteen now, and seems more self assured in a classic black skirt, footless tights, and a pretty, pale blue cashmere vest. I haven’t seen her since the last episode of season three, after I won the competition.
Blitz and I slide into the back seat of the car. Jessie sits up front.
“What have you been doing?” I ask her.
“I auditioned for a lot of ballets, but only got one short two-weekend thing,” she says. She buckles in and picks up the same sling bag I remember her carrying before. A wave of nostalgia hits me.
“Anything we can help with?” Blitz asks.
She shrugs. “Not sure. I’m healed, but maybe I don’t look as good as I think I do.”
“We’ll call our trainers,” Blitz says. “And call Devon. Tell him I want you and Livia to do some dancing together on camera while we do the preparations for the wedding. Get you some exposure.”
“That’s good,” I say. “Can she be a bridesmaid? That would get the cameras on her.”
“Oh, you’ll want to know about that,” Jessie interjects.
We both look at her.
“What have they done now?” Blitz asks.
The driver starts the car, and Jessie pauses to give him the address of the hotel. Then she turns to us again.
“You’re definitely not going to like it,” Jessie says. “It’s an obvious bid for conflict and ratings.”
My stomach drops. I have a feeling I know what she’s going to say.
“Are they contestants?” I ask.
Jessie nods. “The worst.”
“Not Giselle,” I say.
“Not yet,” she adds quickly. “But we do have the stripper from season two.”
“What!” I say. “I thought they decided she was too risky.”
Blitz pulls out his phone. “They have not consulted me on any of this. I’m a producer and I’m about to pull rank.”
I sit back in my seat and look out the window at the LA sights whizzing by. I can still picture the girl and the red satin bed. That sexy dance. Her crazy decision to go naked on the show to try and get Blitz’s attention.
Now she’s back.
All the girls who failed to impress him the first time are back. And it’s worse now, because many of them have had a taste of fame and what it’s like to get lost in obscurity again.
They’ll want the fame back.
Blitz sits with the phone pressed to his face. “Voicemail,” he says to me. “Someone’s about to get an earful.”
I’m not sure who he’s called. Lance, maybe, although he was always in league with Giselle. Maybe Taya. This whole thing is her brainchild.
Blitz leaves a terse message to call him immediately or he’s ditching the whole show and stabs another line in his contact list.
Jessie peers around her seat. “How are you?” she asks me.
“Wishing life were quiet again.”
“I was surprised to hear you were doing a live wedding.”
“Contracts,” I say. “I guess Hannah contacted you?”
“Someone from the network,” she says. “I told them I’d do it as long as it didn’t conflict with any shows that might come up.”
“Absolutely let us know if you get something and need to go. I can carry my own script.”
She smiles. “Everything is a long shot for me. It will be fun.”
Blitz shoves his phone back in his pocket again. “Either they’re all in the same meeting or they’re trying to shut me out.” His face is stormy and dark. “I’m tempted to get right back on a plane.”
Jessie sorts through a sheaf of papers. “There’s a meeting this afternoon with the crew,” she says. “Two o’clock. Maybe they can clear things up?”
“Doubtful,” he says. “They seem to enjoy springing stuff on us.”
“That’s the only thing today,” Jessie says. “Tomorrow will be a cake tasting,” she says. “Looks like wardrobe will arrive at your hotel at eight to select your outfits. Filming is at 11.”
“What else?” Blitz asks.
Jessie shifts through the pages. “Blitz meets with his trainer tomorrow afternoon. There’s going to be a groomsmen dance.”
“Who are the groomsmen?” he asks.
“Barry, the announcer. Mack. A couple celebrities. Looks like Dylan Wolf is going to sing. In honor of your San Antonio heritage, there will be some rodeo cowboy. Brady Wilson? He’s a rather famous bull rider.”
“Is Blitz going to have to kiss another pig?” I ask with a laugh.
“Funny,” Blitz says. “What is the cowboy going to do?”
“It’s not clear,” Jessie says. “The wedding ceremony itself isn’t outlined yet.”
“The meeting,” I say.
Blitz sits back in his seat, eyes on the roof of the car. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.” He reaches for my hand. “Are you sure, Livia?”
I’m not, really, but I squeeze his fingers. “I think it could be fun. Let’s figure out who we can help with it, like Jessie here, and make it something good.”
Blitz snaps his fingers. “Let’s do a fundraiser. Maybe to start more wheelchair ballerina classes in other places.”
My eyes widen. “If we do that, do you think we could convince them to bring the Dreamcatcher class to the wedding?”
He smiles at that. “I like where this is going. Yes. We could.”
“That would be perfect.” I want Gabriella there. I wasn’t sure Gwen would let her go on the cruise, but surely she would let her come to this. Those girls love Blitz beyond belief. We would pay their way. And with several of the girls here, it would hide that she is special to us.
“What about your parents?” he asks. “Your mom and brother?”
“Mom said no way to cameras,” I tell him. “So there won’t be family on my side. What about you?”
“I don’t think Dad will go for this,” Blitz says. “And he’s way too offensive.”
“True,” I say.
Jessie looks through the pages. “Funny,” she says. “They don’t talk about family at all.”
Blitz and I exchange glances. “I wonder why that is,” he says.
Jessie frowns. “You’ll have to ask them at the meeting.”
We arrive at the hotel with just enough time to drop off our things and get right back in the car for the studio.
The three of us are silent on the ride. I realize we have a driver I don’t know and ask Blitz, “Where’s Duke?”
“No telling,” he says. “He’s done with Mack, as far as I know. You want him?”
“He’s good for comedic relief,” I say. “I wonder why he isn’t a groomsman.”
“He’s the help,” Blitz says.
“But he was your best friend,” I say.
“Two years ago.” Blitz shrugs. “I barely talk to him now.”
We turn onto the studio lot and pause by the guard. Once we’re waved through, Jessie passes the scripts back. “In case I don’t get to stay.”
“I wonder if my illustrious agent will be there,” Blitz says.
“She’ll be protecting her percentage,” I say.
The driver stops the car by the back entrance to the studio and hurries around to open the door.
A couple of people are talking near the wall, but no one we know. They’re taking pictures of the sky.
Not again.
I glance up.
There’s no picture this time. No boobs or banana.
Just three words.
Blitz glances up and shakes his head. He takes my hand. “Ignore it,” he says.
It’s hard for me to drag my gaze from the white letters against the blue sky. It’s like my greatest fear and worst nightmare rolled into one.
It says, “Happily ever never.”