On thin ice, p.2
On Thin Ice, page 2
“I am here to make the public like me again, not the camera crew and skaters.”
“God, you’d have thought twenty-three years in show business would have at least taught you something.” He shook his head, glancing at me like I was a moron. “The people behind the scenes are the ones that will make you look good. The camera crew, the judges, the hosts? What they think will be what makes or breaks you on this show. If you pull one of your stunts and piss them off, you’ll make it easy for them to turn the public against you.”
I ignored the ugly twinge I felt when Jack said one of your stunts—as if I’d known that my ex-girlfriend was going to sell my secrets to the media.
“Fair enough, but being nice to them and befriending them are two different things.”
“Why are you being so fucking stubborn about this, Luca? Do you not want that audition?”
“Of course I want it. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be on the way to a damn ice rink.”
“Then stop your moping and accept that you might have to make friends with some of them. Fake it if you need to; I don’t give a shit. But you’d best put on a good fucking show because your getting the part depends on this.”
“I know it does, all right?”
As my manager and best friend, Jack had my best interests at heart, I knew, even if his words were harsh. That was just how we were.
We drove through two rounds of security, then followed the guards’ directions to Studio Twelve. The place was huge. Massive beige warehouse-type studios lined both sides of the clean tarmacked roads. A few cars and golf carts were driving between the studios, which Jack explained were home to the training ice rinks, carrying crew between the buildings. I watched them pass without a flicker of emotion, unable to find it within myself to be excited to be back on a set.
After pulling into the parking lot, we climbed out of Jack’s SUV and made our way toward the studio entrance.
“Wait till you see who I’ve managed to partner you with.” Jack smirked, looking too fucking smug for my liking.
“Who?” Of course, he ignored me. “What have you done, Jack?”
I grabbed the door, maybe a little too forcefully, and let Jack walk through first. I was surprised to see that the studio was pretty sweet. For some reason, I had imagined that the ice rink would be like a community rink: broken lockers and counters where you collected the blue plastic ice skates that most likely had so many layers of foot sweat they could be deemed a biological hazard.
But it was the opposite. It was all shiny surfaces, fresh paint, and the smell of vanilla wafting through the entrance. Above the reception lobby, a huge glass panel stretched the length of the second floor, rows of gym equipment visible from our viewpoint.
“Well, this is nice,” Jack admired, looking around the room.
“Nice try. Who have you partnered me with?” I attempted to get us back on track.
“You’ll find out soon enough.” There was that annoying smirk again.
“Jack.”
“Bestie.”
“Why won’t you tell me?”
“Would you know any of the professional skaters on the show if I named her? Have you ever watched the show, for that matter?”
He had me there.
“Why do you have that shit-eating grin on your face?” I muttered. It was a smile filled with mischief, one that normally won him the favor of women. They seemed to love his easygoing golden retriever personality.
“Patience, bestie. Patience.”
* * *
Jesus Christ.
To put it modestly, my partner was disgustingly pretty. Not a “you might look twice on the streets” kind of pretty, but a “radiates brighter than anyone else in the room” kind of pretty.
Given her skates elevated her a few inches off the ice, she was relatively short at maybe five-foot-four without the boots. Bouncy blond waves were secured in a high ponytail swinging around her shoulders with every twist and turn. She was athletic, her legs and ass curved with muscle. If I were to guess, I’d have said she must have been around twenty-six or twenty-seven. Her tight, long-sleeved sports top accentuated her hourglass figure, which I didn’t doubt was the outcome of long hours spent training.
It pissed me off.
Mainly because Jack had clearly done this on purpose. Knowing that dick thought it would be funny to leave me stuck with someone I’d have to pretend I didn’t find ridiculously attractive for sixteen weeks made me want to punch him. It was almost like he was testing me, and I didn’t need the distraction.
Good thing I had the restraint of a saint these days. Death-by-media will do that to you.
“I know what you’re thinking, and I swear I didn’t do it on purpose,” he defended himself as we walked around. Similar to the studio reception, the training rink was immaculate and modern. There were only a few rows of seats. Lots of people were walking around the space, too, but I kept my eyes on the rink.
“Oh, really? Why are you laughing, then?”
“When we first spoke about sorting your image, I reached out to the PR team for Stars on Ice and spoke to them about your…issue, and they sweetened the deal with her. She’s unproblematic and drama-averse, so they thought the pairing would be good. I agreed before I saw a picture of her.”
“What’s her name?” I asked.
“Matilda.”
I looked over at Matilda again, watching her float around the ice. The studio was packed with skaters, choreographers, and producers, and while a few faces were vaguely familiar, I couldn’t put any names to them.
When she’d sauntered in through the double doors earlier, a tray of coffees in hand and a big, radiant smile on her face, unease had crawled across my skin. She’d handed out coffees to her co-workers like a Good Samaritan. Conversations sparked to life around her, laughter and genuine interest evident in every exchange.
She was also a hugger, apparently.
As her laughter rippled through the air at something one of the skaters said on the ice, I had to admire the magnetic pull she seemed to exude without even trying. I ignored the tension seeping through my body and dragged my eyes away from her.
“She is a stunner, isn’t she?” Jack noted.
“She’s all right, I guess.”
“Oh, come on, admitting she’s attractive doesn’t mean you’re getting engaged.”
“I know it doesn’t.”
“So admit it.”
“No.” I honestly couldn’t remember when I’d last acknowledged a woman past a general greeting, besides my mother and Jack’s sister. It was easier that way—less damage control. If I wanted to have sex, it would be signed and sealed with an NDA and the promise that it would only be a one-time thing.
“Oh my god, does Luca have a crush—” he sing-songed, turning away from the ice to look at me.
“Fuck off. What is it with you and acting like you’re literally twelve years old today?”
“Luca and Matilda, sitting in the tree—”
“Jack.”
“Luca fancies Matil—”
“Fine, stop, stop, stop,” I relented, hoping it would make him quit. “I admit it. She’s attractive.”
“See, that wasn’t too hard, was it?” He smirked again. “Jokes aside, it will be fine. The PR team said that she has never been involved in any scandal, and everyone loves her, so if you’re nice to her, they’ll love you too.”
I opened my mouth, but he continued. “And before you say it, I said ‘be nice to her,’ not ‘ask for her hand in marriage.’ ”
I knew I was being an unreasonable dick, and the only reason that Jack wasn’t giving me such a hard time about it was because he knew why I was reluctant.
“Fine, I’ll be nice. But I swear, if she—”
“She won’t be a problem, I promise. I had the PR team check her background—media coverage and all that fun stuff. She’s clean as a whistle and has no history of being a crazed stalker or otherwise.”
I had to admit that she didn’t seem like the kind of person to cause any unnecessary drama, but you could never tell in show business. Everyone was performing, after all.
“So, what’s the plan now? What happens next?” I asked, half distracted. She was a blur of movement that I couldn’t tear my gaze from as she carved a path around the rink. It looked effortless, the way her skates dug into the ice and spun through the air.
Jack’s lips curved up but he continued, motioning me to follow him. “The skaters had a meeting this morning to discuss pairings, so Matilda will be expecting you. We’ll go find your dressing room and check it’s all OK, maybe get a tour around the building. Then, this afternoon, we’ll meet Matilda. Practice doesn’t start until tomorrow, and that’s when you’ll ‘officially’ meet in front of the cameras, so hopefully it won’t feel awkward as you’ll have already met.”
I nodded and followed him down a corridor past a few dressing rooms. From a glance, they looked big and far away from each other to offer some privacy. I agreed with Jack that I needed to make some kind of effort with Matilda, but that didn’t mean I wanted to be friends with the other skaters, especially the celebrities.
“So, according to the producers, this should be your dressing room.” Jack glanced up from his phone, confirming we were at the right door.
My eyes were immediately assaulted by sparkles and pink. There was a rack of tiny dresses and an array of different pairs of ice skates lining one wall. A huge vanity against the back wall was filled with every beauty product you could imagine. Two large sofas sat in a corner of the room, with a few blankets thrown over them and a coffee table decorated with books.
The room was immaculate and orderly. Somehow, I knew everything was where it was supposed to be.
“At least she’s tidy,” Jack noted, following me inside. The faint, sweet smell of coconut caught in my nose.
“Ahh, boys, you’ve found your dressing room.” Boys?
Jack turned with a practiced agent smile and stepped toward the guy in the doorway.
“Good to see you again, Mark. How are you?” He held out his hand, slipping into PR mode.
“Yeah, not bad, thanks. And yourself?” Mark answered.
“Not bad at all.”
Fucking Brits and their obligatory small talk.
“Luca.” Mark held his hand out to me. “It’s great to finally meet you. I’m Mark, one of the show’s executive producers. We’re looking forward to having you on this season.”
I shook his hand a little harder than necessary. His smarmy smile and clammy hand gave me the fucking creeps.
His smile faltered for a second before he pasted it back on. He scanned my face, and I didn’t bother to guess what he was thinking because, truthfully, I didn’t give a shit.
“Please, take a seat. I want to discuss a few things with you and ensure you’re both up to speed.” He gestured toward the sofas, papers fanned in his hand as he searched for the correct page.
“So,” he started, looking at me, “I’m guessing that Jack has told you this, but you’ll be partnered with Matilda this season.”
I nodded in response. There were a few beats of silence before Jack jumped in. “Yes, I told him. I think they’ll make great television.”
The very nature of Jack’s job as an agent meant he had to stretch the truth and schmooze, even if he disagreed with what he was saying.
“Well, I don’t doubt Luca will make great television.” Mark smiled.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” It was the first thing I’d said to him. If he was shocked by my attitude or tone, he hid it well.
He cleared his throat before continuing, “Your agent ensured that you were partnered with someone who wasn’t going to cause any drama…” He trailed off. Even Jack remained silent this time, unsure of where he was going with this.
He sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees in a weak attempt at camaraderie. “Put it this way. If Jack hadn’t pushed for Matilda specifically, I would have partnered you with someone more interesting, more appealing to the public eye.” He paused for a second, thinking. “Less boring, basically.”
Jack and I leaned back slightly, shocked at his admission. I knew my friend well enough to know we were thinking exactly the same thing. What a douchebag.
My lip curled involuntarily at the way he spoke about her. The blatant disregard he showed for his colleague in an attempt to flatter me summarized all the reasons I hated show business.
As a sign of how much I needed this show to go well, I resisted smacking Mark across the face. He recognized our brief silence for what it was and tried to rescue himself. “She’s lovely—don’t get me wrong. You would just suit someone who matched your celebrity, is all.” He returned to shuffling those damned papers.
“I think she and Luca will work well together.” Jack defended her casually, avoiding causing too much of a scene.
“Sure they will.” Mark’s voice carried the same enthusiasm it had at the start of the conversation but held a clipped edge now.
“And it’s done, either way.” Jack clapped his hands. “So we’ve got to make it work.”
“I’ve got a file on her here that you can read over, Luca. It is more of a formality, so you won’t be in the dark about your future partner.” Mark held the file out to me. And maybe Jack’s childishness had worn off on me, but I left him hanging. When he realized I wouldn’t take it from his hands, he just placed it on the table and smiled tersely.
One part of me wanted to grab the folder and read it immediately. The other part of me wanted to say “Fuck it,” rip the paper to shreds, and blow it back in this asshole’s face, just out of spite.
I thought I’d lose my best friend for good if I did the latter.
“Is that all?” I asked bluntly, causing Jack to cast a sideways glance at my snippy tone.
“I think so. We will brief everyone tomorrow morning on how the next few weeks will go so you’re all up to speed. There will be a press event for everyone to attend at the end of week five of training. A camera crew will be there to get some teaser shots for the show, and, of course, journalists will be there too. That will be a week before the live shows begin.”
“Is the press event mandatory?” I hated the paparazzi with a burning passion and avoided them like the plague. At least with a television show, we could somewhat control the narrative around my character. The parasites with cameras would publish whatever the hell they wanted—whether it was true or not.
“It’s not compulsory, but we do recommend attendance—it’s good publicity and all that.”
Ha—yeah, I wouldn’t be going.
He stood, continuing as he walked to the door, “You can ask anyone at reception to give you a full tour of the facilities, or you can ask Matilda later. I’d ask Samantha at the front desk; she can be very friendly, if you catch my drift.”
Was this guy for real?
“Will do, thanks,” Jack grunted.
He closed the door as Mark exited. Then he turned toward me, his movements deliberate, and remarked, “He seems like a complete wanker.”
“He’s something, all right.”
“This is the only time I am going to condone your general shitty attitude to humankind. I want you to be cautious around Mark. I don’t think he’ll be an issue, but we don’t need any unnecessary drama with him.”
“Agreed. I wasn’t planning on it anyway.”
“Good.” Jack retook his seat on the sofa. “He’s known us for all of three minutes and starts bad-mouthing his colleagues?” He shivered, as if physically shaking off the conversation with Mark.
“Kind of dramatic, isn’t it?” I scoffed, trying to hide my laugh.
“He gives me bad vibes. I don’t like it.”
“I can’t say I’m surprised, really. Everyone in the industry pretends to like each other so that they can one-up themselves.”
“You know, I’d normally agree with you.” Never one to stay still, he stood again and walked over to the vanity, studied one of the products, then put it back. “But everyone besides Mark seems to love Matilda.”
“We only saw her interact for ten minutes. Could just be niceties…” I paused. “Stop messing with her things, man.”
He dropped her lip gloss and held up his hands in mock surrender, eyebrows raised.
“It’s distracting,” I explained.
He huffed out a quick laugh. “Come on, let’s go. We’re meeting Matilda soon, and I need to get a coffee and something to eat. I’m starving, so you must be too.”
I was untying the lace on one of my skates when my phone vibrated from my bag. Again. I imagined it had been ringing the whole time I was on the ice, too, but at least I could plead that I had been training. After our morning briefing, I’d joined the other skaters on the practice rink as we hadn’t all had time to catch up before our partners were revealed. We weren’t allowed to skate on the TV rink used for filming until dress rehearsals, so we’d be spending a lot of time at the different practice rinks across the studios.
The morning skate had given me time to get my head on straight about the next few months. Long enough to remember that this might be my chance to get the winner’s bonus.
My phone stopped vibrating, only to start again a few seconds later. I pulled off my other skate, zipped it up in my boot bag, and pulled my phone out of my kit bag.
“Hey, Mum.” I leaned forward on my knees and rubbed my temples, hoping to ease some of the tension building there.
“Who are you partnered with?” She jumped straight in.
