Chapter 15
Bennett isn’t on the plane that takes us to LA that afternoon. Blitz hasn’t talked to him about the show, but it doesn’t matter anyway. We’re committed to this course.
I get to meet his assistant Shelly the moment we land. She’s waiting on the tarmac with Duke and a different car, an enormous black SUV.
She’s very tiny, not even five feet tall, and extremely petite with bright pink hair cut short around her pixie-like face. She wears jeans and a black tank top that says “Bite me.” A dozen gold hoops line one of her earlobes.
She isn’t what I expected at all.
“I have three properties for you to visit for a rental,” she says, “but I don’t see any time in your schedule to go look. Rehearsals start at eight in the morning and you will literally have no time to do anything, as the first show will be shot in three weeks.”
Duke waves at us, making a “talkie talkie” motion with his hands as he follows Shelly with our bags. And it’s true. Shelly doesn’t so much as take a breath as we load into the SUV.
“We’re going to keep you as quiet as possible,” Shelly says as we sit down. She gets in the front next to Duke and twists around. “That’s why we got this car. Duke isn’t to take out your Jag unless it’s an official event. I’m taking your request seriously to blow off Hannah and avoid any unnecessary publicity.”
Blitz is about to say something, but she charges on.
“Since you didn’t want to go to your condo, I made reservations at the Ritz. They know you are coming and that your privacy is of utmost concern. They have you keyed in for the rear entrance and a secure floor. We couldn’t get any presidential suites because, well, this is Hollywood, but it’s a nice big room. I hope to get you in a rental by the weekend. Maybe I can pick one if you don’t get a chance to look.”
“Shelly! Stop!” Blitz says. “Hello! I want you to meet Livia.”
“Hello, Livia,” Shelly says. “I already know your dress size and shoe size. I have a ballet instructor lined up for you. We all assumed you would continue your studies. Let us know if that changes. The choreographer wants to meet with you first thing and the two of you will need to dance for everyone so we can fit your style into the show.”
Blitz shakes his head. “What Shelly is trying to say is ‘Hello, nice to meet you too.’”
Shelly waves off his comment. “She’ll get used to me.” She flips through screens on her phone and goes on.
“Hannah is not pleased to have me as a go-between, but I told her to suck it. Here was her response.” She holds up her phone, where a message has been zoomed in on. It reads “You. Are. Unprofessional.”
She turns the phone back to look at it herself. “I took that as a compliment, coming from her.” She sighs. “Any questions?”
Blitz and I look at each other and laugh. “I think you’ve covered it.”
“Oh, meals,” Shelly says. “Your chef got here yesterday and will prepare everything for both of you to eat while on the set each day. He said, and I quote, ‘Do not let him go to McDonald’s.’”
Blitz leans forward in his seat. “Duke, you know what that means.”
“I’m on it,” Duke says. He turns on his signal.
“Are you heading to McDonald’s?” Shelly asks, her voice exasperated.
“Of course he is,” Blitz says. “Livia, quarter pounder or double Mac?”
I giggle. “You know I won’t eat that stuff.”
“And you were so close to being the perfect girl,” he says, lifting my hand to kiss my fingers.
“Enjoy your last night of freedom,” Shelly says. “Because starting tomorrow, you are owned by Dance Blitz.”
“Just for five episodes,” Blitz says.
“It’s going to be different,” Shelly says. “It’s already different. Those finalists are feeling their power. They are calling more shots. And they don’t listen to me as well as they did Hannah. You might want to bring her back.”
Blitz shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. I choose the winner in the end. It’s pointless for them to force my hand.”
Shelly and Duke exchange glances.
“What?” Blitz asks. “Surely nobody thinks I’m going to choose anyone but Livia.”
“I’m going to pull over for this one,” Duke says. He turns into the parking lot of a pharmacy and shifts the car into park.
My belly quivers a little. This must be big.
Shelly tugs on a piece of her pink hair, her lips twisted. “They changed the format of the show,” she says. “You weren’t here yesterday for the kickoff meeting, since you insisted on arriving today.”
“What is the new format?” Blitz asks.
Shelly reaches into an oversized bag and pulls out a sheaf of papers. “These are the roughs,” she says. “They outline the five episodes.”
The first page has five paragraphs labeled S3 E1 to E5. I guess it stands for season three, and episodes one through five.
I’ve only read a couple lines about the first episode being based on four dates, when Blitz flings it to the floor. “Nobody said ANYTHING about doing a live weekly!” he says.
“The live format for the finale was really popular,” she says. “And it’s the best way to get big numbers on the audience vote since they are short on publicity due to the quick timeline. They are trying to salvage the original release dates.”
“It’s a live show again?” I ask.
Blitz nods and covers his eyes with his hand for a moment, struggling to control his anger.
“We can do that,” I say. “We did it before.”
“That’s not the real rub,” Duke says. “You’re missing the point.”
I look from Blitz to Shelly to Duke. “What are you talking about?”
“The new format is so they can do live voting,” Shelly explains. “It’s not up to Blitz to choose this time. This winner will be determined by the TV audience.”
~*´`*~
I sink back against the seat. Blitz’s face is hard and angry. “Who authorized this without my input?” he demands.
“You’ll have to talk to the execs,” Shelly says. “I think under the new agreement, the one that you signed to avoid the lawsuit, the format is no longer under your control.”
“You told Larry to get you off the show after five,” I say. “This is probably what he had to do.”
Duke pulls out of the parking lot. “Still Micky D’s?” he asks.
“Forget it,” Blitz says. “I want to get to the hotel and make some calls.”
He’s as stormy as I’ve ever seen him. I’m anxious too. I know my dancing isn’t nearly at the level of the other girls. The audience will be unforgiving. I’ll be voted off the first show.
I reach down and pick up the sheaf of papers again, trying to puzzle out what will happen.
Episode 1 is called “Meet the Dates.” It doesn’t have any dance numbers. And it’s not live either. Blitz will go on four dates, one with each of the three finalists and one with me, and clips will be aired along with the host, who will talk to the audience about the girls. No one will be eliminated.
Episode 2 is the first live show. It’s called “Slow Dance.” There’s a dance number with each girl, and Blitz will do interviews about each of us as a partner, plus interview spotlights on each of us. Callers will vote during the show and up to two hours after.
Episode 3 is called “Classic Dance.” All four of us do a dance with Blitz, interspersed with interviews and rehearsal footage. The votes from Episode 2 will be revealed and the girl who was eliminated does a “Final Dance” with Blitz.
Episode 4 is “Sexy Dance.” Same format. Another girl goes in the end.
In the last episode, the competition will be down to two girls, both showing the unique dance style they have developed with Blitz. Previous dancers from earlier in the series will do numbers with Blitz, reliving some of the moments that were iconic to the show. I scan and note that the sexy bed scene is only shown as a clip. That girl wasn’t invited back.
These dances are just for fun, because the audience has already decided on the winner based on the sexy dance episode. The winner is announced at the end.
At least there is no wedding proposal scripted in. They didn’t go that far.
I roll up the papers and tap my palm anxiously as the streets of LA roll by. It will be dark soon, and before I know it, we’ll be up and at the studio.
I guess some of us will be in rehearsals while others are out filming the dates. I don’t know how all that will work. I turn to look at Blitz. He’s staring out the window, still scowling. I understand how he feels. The show he built on his charisma and craziness is no longer his. And he wants this triumphant ending with the two of us, and it just got snatched away.
I reach across the seat and hold on to his wrist. “You okay, Blitz?”
Shelly glances back anxiously, then turns away.
Blitz blows out a long hard gush of air. “This business sucks,” he says. “Nobody’s in it for anything but ratings. Everybody has to cover their ass.”
“We’ll be fine,” I tell him. “It’s just television. Maybe I’ll get crazier than you and have an onscreen fling with Giselle myself.”
Duke has a coughing fit and Shelly hammers him on the back. Blitz just shakes his head.
“You’re really something,” he says, dragging me across the seat closer to him.
“I could kiss a girl. Maybe I’d like it,” I say.
Duke chokes out another cough.
“Your lips are mine,” Blitz says. “She doesn’t deserve them.” He leans in and kisses me, and I can feel his body relax.
“I really think you two are going to do fine,” Shelly says. “Everybody loves a true romance. And the other girls just didn’t cut it.”
I look up at Blitz. For his sake, and okay, maybe for mine too, I hope she’s right.