Laying Low in Hollywood (5 page)

                                   
CHAPTER 6

   In the weeks before I arrived, I had been worrying about my upcoming move to Los Angeles.  For the next, more than four months of my life, I would be stuck in Los Angeles, where I essentially knew no one, with the exception of Jorge, and the few other network executives I had met.

   I was worried about lots of things, where I would stay, how I would get around.  Luckily my worries had been for nothing, the network had taken care of everything.  They had provided me with a very nice condo not far from the studio, and a rental car, a stunning red convertible.  I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.  I was quite pleased that I was being so spoiled.

   It wasn’t until I was introduced to my “team”, that I began to have second thoughts about this entire fiasco.  When I met my “team” it was obvious that I would have my work cut out for me.  I realized that every show had an angle, and unfortunately, I was feeling like I was the butt of a huge joke that the network had constructed at my expense.  As soon as I met my team, I was convinced that the angle for this reality series would be that, my couple was pretty much a hopeless cause!

   The couple I had been assigned to work with, who had supposedly been assigned to me completely at random, seemed more like fodder for a situation comedy than an athletic competition!  I suddenly had my doubts that this pair had truly been assigned to me randomly, and I was feeling a bit set up.  I feared the network executives were all secretly snickering at me, as I met my team.  It just seemed to me, that my team was destined to be the long shot of the entire competition.

   My athlete was retired football star, Ron Brannon.  I didn’t really follow football at all, but Jorge told me that Ron had been a star quarterback, a fan favorite, and Jorge was quite pleased to have recruited him.  I, on the other hand, wasn’t as excited about his presence as Jorge was.  Just looking at this man, I had serious doubts that I could ever teach him to skate.  I couldn’t get that old saying out of my head.  “The bigger they are, the harder they fall”.

   Ron Brannon definitely looked like a football player, he   was huge!  He was tall, probably six foot three or six foot four, and he was a broad shouldered, mass of muscle.  I wasn’t sure how old he was, but I was guessing that he was probably close to forty, and he walked with a bit of a limp, apparently, from an old hip injury, he had sustained on the football field. 

   I was grimacing at the very thought of this man getting on the ice, I worried that he would most likely finish off his hip the first time out on the ice.  I was looking around the room at the rest of the producers, biting my lower lip anxiously, waiting for someone to tell me that this was a huge joke.

   Regrettably, the punch line never came.  No one burst into laughter and told me this was a joke, like I had hoped.  Jorge was gushing on and on about how fabulous Ron Brannon was, and how he was going to grab spectacular ratings for the show. 

   I sighed miserably, of course, it was all about the ratings.  Jorge didn’t care that teaching Ron Brannon to skate, would be a lot like teaching a dog to whistle, it just wasn’t happening!  Jorge did not share any of my reservations, in fact, I was realizing that all Jorge really cared about, was having Ron Brannon’s name in the credits.  I tried to conceal my troubled frown, I was totally screwed!

   I was more of a baseball fan, than a football fan, so I really couldn’t get all that excited about having Ron Brannon on my team.  Of course, I wasn’t completely naive, I knew the value Jorge placed on a celebrity like Brannon.  I hadn’t just crawled from beneath a rock, I’d heard his name before and seen him on TV commercials, but I really knew nothing about him personally.  Jorge told me that Ron Brannon was one of the greatest quarterbacks ever!  Now he was retired from football and he worked as a sports commentator in New York.

   Jorge told me all I had to do was dress Ron Brannon up in a sexy outfit and the ratings would soar.  Apparently Mr. Brannon was quite popular with the ladies, and of course, as far as the network was concerned, it was all about the ratings.

   I sighed in resignation, it was, what it was, there was nothing I could do about it.  I could only hope that Ron Brannon would be able to pull in the ratings for the show based on this good looks alone, because I seriously doubted that I was going to be able to make him into a professional pairs skater. 

   I could only chuckle when I thought about it.  All I could think about was the fact that Ron Brannon was built for football.  He was a huge, black man, who paired with my skater, who was petite and blonde, was going to look completely ridiculous!

   Unfortunately, my luck in the professional skater draw hadn’t been any better.  My skater was Elena Denkova, a tiny Russian skater who was about ten years past her prime.  I didn’t remember her from the height of her career, so I assumed she had never been to the World Championships.  Elena was twenty nine years old and she apparently had retired from competitive skating because of a bad knee.

   I shook my head disgustedly, this wasn’t fair!  I didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of making it past the first week in this competition!  I had already resigned myself to working with Ron, but geeze, at least give me a decent professional to work with.  Elena had never done any pairs skating or ice dance and she spoke only limited English.  She was just a tiny thing, barely 5 feet tall, and approximately ninety pounds.  About the size of one of Ron’s legs!

   Of course, our first day on the ice was a complete disaster!  Ron didn’t even know how to put the skates on.  After I helped him lace them up correctly and helped him to get them tight enough around the ankles, he landed flat on his back on  the ice, with his very first step out of the gate!

   I sighed miserably as I watched him floundering around on the ice, like a fish out of water.  I was trying to avoid getting discouraged, but I already had a pretty good idea which team would be the first one going home.  I had expected that the network would have chosen people who could, at the very least, stand on skates. 

   I was happy that Elena seemed to be able to skate good enough, even with her knee bandaged, she could skate circles around Ron.  Her downfall was going to be her stubbornness, she wanted everything her way, and communicating with her at times was a challenge, she spoke English, but not well.  If you told her something she didn’t like, she would just pretend she didn’t understand you.

   As I watched Ron struggling to get back to his feet, I sighed miserably.  Why did I take this job?  What the heck was I thinking?  Then I remembered what Justin had told me.  I needed to do something different, something out of my comfort zone. 

   This definitely qualified.  I reprimanded myself and resolved to make this work.  Life as I had known it, was officially over.  I was destined to spend the next four months of my life in Hollywood.  I vowed to make the best of it.  I skated over and offered my hand to Ron, I hauled him up off the ice, then I struggled to help him over to the wall.

   The poor guy, I felt bad for him, he seemed so embarrassed.  He was very apologetic, but I couldn’t really blame him for his lack of grace on the ice.  Ron had been asked to come on this show, and I was guessing he had no idea as to what he was getting himself into. 

   As far as I was concerned, this was all Jorge’s fault!  In my opinion, the contestants should have some sort of skating ability before they were asked to come on the show.

   There was not much I could do about it at this point, I was committed.  All I could really do was smile for the cameras.  Of course, the show had assigned our team it’s very own cameraman who was there to film all of our practices, all of our interviews, and all of our thoughts about how this little fiasco was going.

   I guess in a way, that was good, all of America at least, would know it wasn’t completely my fault that my team totally sucked.  I had nothing to work with!  My grandpa always said, “You can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.”  Amen to that!

   So it seemed that I was going to have to teach Ron to skate from scratch.  Luckily, the very first show was going to be an introduction, of sorts.  It would be mostly a bunch of interviews, fluff pieces, clips from our practices and then a short, 30 second “preview” skate.  I wouldn’t have to come up with a real two minute program for my team, until the second week on the air.

   I only hoped that by the time week one was shot, I would have enough to work with, to present a 30 second intro skate to the American viewers.  Right now, even that, didn’t seem possible.  At this point, I would be lucky if Mr. Brannon could complete one lap around the rink.

   That first day, I had no choice but to start out by teaching Ron the basics of skating.  I felt like I was back in Colorado Springs teaching a basic skills course to five year olds.  Arms out, glide, step, glide.

   I was pleasantly surprised, Ron was actually a very good student and quite anxious to learn.  It wasn’t long before he had the basic steps down and he was slowly gliding around the rink some, without me holding on to him.

   I chewed nervously on my bottom lip as I watched him skate around the rink, his arms outstretched as he toddled around the ice, always on the verge of falling.  I felt bad for him, it was embarrassing, and he seemed like a nice enough guy.  

   I was impressed because he was enthusiastic and he seemed to be so driven to make this work.  Unfortunately, all the drive in the world was probably not enough to get him to the level I needed him skating at.  I was still certain that my team would be the first one going home.

   I had been so absorbed in trying to help Ron learn to skate, that I had been completely ignoring Elena.  She had been skating by herself the entire time, she was obviously completely bored.  I glanced across the rink at Ron, picking himself up off the ice, for like, the millionth time, and I could tell that he was wearing down.  I decided, it was time for me to end practice for one day.

   “Okay Ron, that’s good,” I called, waving him back over to me.  I didn’t want to overdo him on the first day.

   “That’s it, we’re done?” he asked.  He was disappointed, like a kid who’d been told that playtime was over.

   “It’s your first day, I think that’s enough,” I told him.

   “But we didn’t do any jumps or lifts,” he said, his face falling in defeat.

   “Well, let’s just concentrate on the basics for now, we’ll get to that eventually,” I told him with a smile, though secretly, I doubted I would ever get to jumps and lifts with this team.  If we made it through the first elimination, it would be a freaking miracle.

   “I’m glad to see you’re finally smiling.  You’ve got a beautiful smile,” said Ron, flashing me a stunning smile of his own.  I’m sure I blushed.  I had to admit, Jorge had been right, Ron Brannon was very attractive, and a little bit of a flirt, it seemed.

   “Thank you,” I told him, I looked away, suddenly embarrassed.  My heart was faltering at the unexpected compliment.  I was suddenly fighting tears, it was what Greg had always told me, back when Greg still thought that I was attractive.  Greg had always loved my smile and my eyes, somehow it hadn’t been enough, though.

   “I guess you don’t have much to smile about, getting me as your athlete.  I guess if you were lucky you would have gotten a hockey star, then at least the guy knows how to skate,” said Ron, flashing me a sly smile.
             

   “I’m sorry if I seem moody, really, it’s not your fault.  I guess I haven’t had much to smile about lately,” I told him ruefully.

   “I probably wouldn’t be smiling either, if I had just been informed that I had to teach a guy with my abilities to ice skate.  I mean hell, I never even put on skates before,” he told me with a little laugh.

   “Actually, getting you as my athlete was the luckiest thing to happen to me in a long time,” I told him.

   “How do you figure?” he asked, giving me a quizzical look.

   “Well, when the show airs and everyone sees the clips of all our practices and you falling down on your butt today, they are going to be completely amazed with my coaching talent when you and Elena actually win the competition!”  I told him, giving him a coy smile.

   “Well at least you have big ambitions.  Either that or you’re completely delusional,” said Ron, laughing.