Laying Low in Hollywood (8 page)

   “Don’t you ever do that again!  I am your coach and I will tell you how much you practice,” I snapped, angrily.

   “I’m fine,” he told me, shaking his head nonchalantly.  I narrowed my eyes at him, his male athlete ego was sneaking out, and it was totally pissing me off.  I had thirty years of skating experience and he was acting like he knew more than I did.

   “You arrogant jerk!  You have no idea what you are doing, you could hurt yourself.  I didn’t come all the way to stinking Los Angeles, to have one of my team members overdo themselves and possibly get hurt and have to quit!” I ranted angrily.

   “I’m a grown man, I will not have you berating me, like I’m one of your adolescent skating students!” snapped Ron, angrily.

   “Then stop acting like one of them!” I shouted, I was nearly stomping my feet I was so angry with him.  Ron had stepped closer to me and I could suddenly feel him towering over me.  I was suddenly rueing my decision to pick a fight with a retired football player, who could obviously kick my ass without much effort on his part.

   I could feel our cameraman Maurice hovering nearby, capturing every second of my dramatic little meltdown.  I was suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. 

   I kept forgetting where I was and who I was dealing with.  I was in Hollywood, every moment of my day, it seemed, was being recorded for the show.  I was no longer working with children who worshipped me, and hung on my every word.  I was working with a professional who was a legend in his own sport, who probably had a huge ego to go along with that huge persona. 

   I was stunned when I realized that Ron was suddenly laughing uncontrollably.  I stared at him numbly, but soon I was fighting laughter as well, this whole scenario seemed completely ridiculous! 

   In moments, I was a laughing uncontrollably.  It was a bit comical, I was reprimanding Ron as if he were a fourteen year old boy who’d stayed up too late or something.  He gave me a smile and folded me into a huge bear hug.  My body stiffened in surprise, I hadn’t expected that.  His strong arms felt heavenly around me.  It took every ounce of will power I had in my body to wiggle myself out of his arms before I melted into them blissfully.

   I stepped back and gave him my most business-like glare.  “Okay then,” it was the only thing I could think of to say, my brain had been reduced to a mass of goo, the consistency of mashed potatoes.

   “You’re pretty damn cute when you get angry,” whispered Ron, giving me a sly smile.

   Once again, that smile had my heart pounding completely out of control.  Luckily, I realized that Maurice was still standing there with his camera trained on us, otherwise I might have done, what I really wanted to do, which was just kiss him and get it over with. 

   I wasn’t sure what was wrong with me, I had been fighting the urge to just kiss him all morning.  There was just something about him that I couldn’t put my finger on, it had been years since I had these kind of feelings for anyone.  I wasn’t sure why Ron had suddenly stirred up these feelings in me.  I glanced up at him smiling at me, I sighed in resignation, it was impossible for me to stay mad at him!
             

   “Do you have blisters?” I snapped, still trying to sound sufficiently angry at him.

   “A few,” he said, shrugging nonchalantly.

   “Listen to me Ron, if you mess your feet up, you’ll be totally out of this competition!  You will skate when I tell you to skate, not a minute more!” I snapped.

   “I’m sorry.”

   Maurice was still hovering nearby, of course the drama was irresistible to a reality show cameraman.  This was exactly what they lived for.  It was only our second day and I had already grown tired of having every single second of my day recorded, just so the show’s editors could go through the hours and hours of video and pick out only the juiciest morsels to air on the show. 

   I was cooling down some, but I was still angry, this competition could be over before it even began if Ron messed his feet up.  I had decided it was time for me to take a little break.

   “Go away Maurice!” I snapped, skating away from Ron and the annoying camera man.

   “Oh, this is some good stuff,” said Maurice, flashing me a little smile as he skated away with his camera.  I retreated into the changing room so I could have a moment of solitude.  The changing room was one of the only places the cameras weren’t allowed.

   When I had finally cooled down some, I returned to the ice.  Ron was skating at one end of the rink, Elena was skating at the other.  I sighed miserably, getting this pair to work together was going to be quite a challenge.

    I wasn’t sure what either of their true intentions were.  I had competed all my life, so obviously I wanted to win, but I wasn’t so sure about my little team.

   I had my theories about Elena.  I was under the impression that she was here because she thought that this show might lead her to some sort of acting career.  I still wasn’t sure what Ron’s real intentions were.  What would motivate a legendary football star like Ron, to come on a reality TV show where he was going to stick out like a sore thumb?

   I knew that his wife had her heart set on the money, but what about Ron?  He was the one that was going to be embarrassing himself on a weekly basis.  Even if he skated a clean program during the show every week, I was sure that all this footage that was being shot during our practice was going to be exploited during the shows. 

    Besides, I could only imagine what all his football player buddies were saying about this.  They probably thought that “Fire on Ice” was the gayest show on television!

   “Okay you two, come over here,” I called.  They both began skating toward me.  Elena glided into a hockey stop right in front of me, essentially showering me in ice, while Ron crashed into the wall clumsily.  He hadn’t really mastered stopping yet.

   “All right, we are going to have the two of you do some stroking and then we are going to work on some dance steps,” I told them.

   “I not skate weeth heem, he eez a klutz,” said Elena, folding her arms over her chest arrogantly.

   “You wish to quit?  You don’t want to do the show?” I asked.  I had already decided I was not going to tolerate Elena’s piss poor attitude any more.   If she refused to skate with Ron, she was going home.  I wasn’t going to play games with her anymore.

   “I weel not have heem treeping over me!” cried Elena.

   “If you want to quit, tell me now and I will let Jorge know.  I’m sure he has other skaters that will be most happy to have this opportunity, to be on television,” I told her with a slight shrug.

   Elena assessed me carefully, with her arms folded across her chest.  When she finally realized I was completely serious, she sighed miserably.

   “I weel skate,” said Elena, with a slight frown.

   “Good, because Ron needs to skate with his partner, not me.  The more he skates with me, the more comfortable he gets with a stride that does not belong to his partner...right?”

   “Yes,” snapped Elena.

   I urged them both out on the ice.  Elena wrapped Ron’s arm around her waist and they were off.  I was happy to finally have Ron and Elena skating around the ice together.  I had to snicker a little bit as I watched them, Ron was so huge and she was so tiny, poor Ron was hunched over trying to listen to Elena’s instructions in her choppy, broken English.  Ron was quickly able to adjust to Elena’s stride and soon they were looking like a matched pair.

   Towards the end of the session we worked on some steps and I was finally feeling like we were making a bit of progress.

   I told Elena and Ron goodbye and headed back to my condo.  I wanted to take a nap, we had a big publicity party to go to tonight and I knew I wouldn’t be back in bed before 2 a.m.

   I had a beautiful sequined blue dress that the network had picked out for me to wear to the event tonight.  Our practices had been closed, so it would be the first I had seen of any of the other teams, and it would be the first time they would be getting a look at our team as well.  I was excited to finally get to meet our competition in person and see what we were up against.

   I guess I shouldn’t have been so surprised, Hollywood was a completely different world than I was accustomed to.   I was always stunned by how everything was so carefully arranged.  The network had sent my dress directly to the salon and I was to go there to get my hair and makeup done, then the limo would pick me up there.  The network didn’t really leave much to chance, they planned to have each team arrive together. 

   I wasn’t looking forward to that.  The press had already linked me with Ron once.  I was worried about more speculation! I wondered, miserably, if there was any way possible I could make it through the next, nearly four months with my sanity intact.  The way things were starting off, it didn’t seem possible.

chapter 9

   I sat there in the salon, completely lost in my own thoughts as the hair and makeup artists worked their magic on me.  I couldn’t help it, but I let out a little gasp of surprise when the hair stylist turned my chair around and I finally got a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror.  I was so stunned, I almost didn’t recognize myself.  I wasn’t used to wearing a lot of makeup, so when I saw the gorgeous blonde staring back at me in the mirror, I couldn’t believe it was really me.

   My hair was curled and twisted into an up do that allowed a mass of curls to fall over my right shoulder.  The eyeshadow, eye liner and mascara made my already large eyes, look huge.  It was the only facial feature I had inherited from my gorgeous mother, her beautiful blue eyes.

   Elena was also at the salon having her hair and makeup done.  When I finally got to see her, I had to smile, she looked every inch the movie star she longed to be.  Wardrobe had dressed her in a shimmering white beaded and sequin encrusted dress and her long blonde hair had been curled and sprayed into an elegant mass of waves, reminiscent of a classic Hollywood beauty.

   When it was time for us to depart, they ushered Elena and I into our limo, that was when I realized Ron was already in there waiting for us.  He smiled at me as I slid across the leather seat.  I tried to hide the fact that the very sight of him had rendered me completely speechless, but it was impossible.  He looked incredibly handsome in his tuxedo, with that now familiar smile, lighting up his entire face.

   “Good evening ladies, you both look lovely,” he said, as Elena and I situated ourselves in the limo.  I smiled at him in response, I was so filled with emotion, I couldn’t trust my voice to speak as I slid up next to him, our legs almost touching.  I would have preferred it, if Elena would have sat next to him, but she refused, for some reason. 

   Unfortunately, she didn’t really like Ron at all and I wasn’t sure why.  I was pretty sure she was only doing this show as a chance to be discovered as an actress.  I hated to tell her...fat chance of that happening.

   Elena was rolling her eyes and giving us both a fake smile, I resisted the urge to say something snide to her.  Her decided lack of class annoyed me, but I was sure her attitude would turn around as soon as the cameras were rolling, Elena was as fake as they came.

   We arrived at the party, as a team.  Of course, as we stepped out of the limo there were photographers and videographers there recording our every move from the moment we arrived. 

   Elena had snapped out of her sullen mood and mugged for the cameras with Ron and I.  She had her arms around Ron, smiling coyly, as if the two of them were the best of friends.  I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at her and instead, I gave everyone a fake smile as I waved to the crowd that had gathered there, outside the restaurant.

   Jorge was waiting at the entrance of the restaurant and as soon as he saw me, he strolled over to me and took my arm to escort me into the restaurant.  I could tell immediately that this had been a very deliberate action.  He wanted me to walk into this event on his arm, not Ron’s. 

   I had to admit, Jorge was very clever.  Like the network, Jorge never left anything to chance, he was trying to dispel all the rumors that were circulating about Ron and I by making it appear to everyone that he was my date. 

   Despite the fact that I had no desire to have my name linked romantically to Jorge, it made sense to me.  Ron was happily married, and hooking up with a co star would be scandalous.  A scandal, especially this early in the game, would equate to bad publicity.  Bad publicity was something our fledgling show didn’t need at the moment. 

   I couldn’t really fault Jorge for his concern, this new show was his baby.  He felt the need to protect it, like a dog with a bone.  I knew from our earlier conversation, that Jorge had already decided that he would do whatever it took, to make sure that Ron and I didn’t look like a couple.  He was hell bent on presenting a new image of me to the viewers.  Jorge had a plan to show viewers that whatever those photos had implied, it was all a hoax.

   I gave Jorge a stunning smile as I took his arm.  The dozens of cameras clicked away as I walked into the restaurant on Jorge’s arm and despite my outward smile, I felt like a fake, just like Elena.

   When we arrived inside the restaurant, I could see that the network had taken over the entire place.  There were cameras everywhere recording this historic event as the competitors were finally introduced to each other.  Of course, I didn’t recognize most of these people, but it was good to finally see what we were up against.

   Two of the professional athletes were hockey players, which hardly seemed fair to me, they would have lots of skating experience.  But what could I do?  I was merely a character in this little cast that the producers had arranged. 

   In the mix of professional athletes, there were two football players, two hockey players, two baseball players, two volleyball players and two women’s tennis stars.  That made six guys, four girls on the professional athlete side.

   There were six female professional skaters, and four males, most of them I really didn’t know, they were either washed up, foreign, or so obscure, no one remembered them.

   There was also an international mix of coaches and choreographers, there were four of us from the US, a French choreographer, a Swiss coach, a German coach, a Japanese choreographer, a British choreographer and a Canadian coach.

  I figured it would be hard on a lot of these international coaches and choreographers, I knew that some of them weren’t used to having to do both coaching and choreography.  I was sure that some of the coaches would be struggling with the choreography.  I almost giggled, I could only hope so, there had to be something to level the playing field a little bit!

   As I assessed the other teams, I decided the biggest threat in the entire competition would be team Muramsatsu.  Emi Muramsatsu had been a popular Japanese skater years ago and she now made her career as a very skilled choreographer.  Emi was quite sought after in her own country and here in the states, she had created many an award winning program.  I was almost pouting in disgust when I realized that she had been blessed with the dream team of Mick Santos, a professional hockey player and Annicka Vogl, a professional skater from Austria.

   Annicka was not a world famous skater by any means, but I had, at least, heard of her.  She had been an Austrian favorite.   As talented as she was, Annicka had never made it to the world ranks, but I had seen her skate before, she was good!

   I sighed as I watched team Muramsatsu in their interview, it wasn’t fair at all.  Not only were they talented, but they were bound to be a crowd favorite as well.

   What could I say?  They had the look.  Annicka was young, maybe twenty three, and gorgeous.  She looked like a model, all auburn curls and curves, and of course, the network had played up her ample cleavage, it threatened to spill out of the ruby red, sequined dress they had selected for her. 

   Of course, Mick was young too, and he was the picture of rugged handsomeness.  His dark hair fell rakishly over one eye. Every pore of his body seemed to ooze pure sex appeal.  Emi was a character, a powerhouse in a small package, is how I had heard her described one time.  That had certainly been true in her skating days.  I couldn’t help but like Emi, her smile was infectious and she always kept everyone laughing.  I had no doubt that after tonight, team Muramsatsu would be America’s favorite team, and the show hadn’t even started yet.

   The party seemed to drag on and on, it was mainly set after set of publicity photos, interviews and a bit of socializing between the teams, of course, it was all being captured on camera.  I had armed myself with my best fake smile and was forced to pull out my best poker face whenever I was interviewed with Ron or Jorge.  I was determined that my outward appearance would give the viewers no reason to suspect that I was hopelessly smitten with Ron.

   It was late in the evening and I was standing back from the crowd, watching a slightly hilarious interview with team Maricelle.  French Canadian coach Andre’ Maricelle, was saddled with a gorgeous, but ditzy, female tennis star and an arrogant Russian, for his pro skater.  They were all jockeying for position in the interview, as each of them thought that they were the most important person on the team.  The coach was so full of himself, I doubted this team would last the first week, it was almost comical.

   I was smiling as I watched the interview.  As luck would have it, my amusement was short-lived, a female reporter had approached me.

   “Good evening Ms. Jensen, what do you have to say to the rumors that you and Ron Brannon are a bit of an item?” asked the woman, as she rudely stuffed her microphone into my face.

   “I find it very flattering that the media would believe that Ron Brannon and I are lovers, since he is very attractive, but the truth is, Ron and I are just friends,” I snapped, my voice raising slightly in distress.  I was clenching my jaw uneasily, looking around for anyone who could save me from this unwanted interrogation.  I totally sucked at lying, my voice would betray me every single time.

   “I saw the photos, it seemed like a very intimate lunch for two people who claim to be just friends,” said the woman, staring me down intently.  My heart was racing anxiously, I wasn’t sure what I could tell this woman without giving myself away.  I never dealt well with confrontations.  Besides, I already felt guilty enough about the feelings I had for Ron.

   “Don’t be ridiculous darling.  Lane is all mine,” said Jorge arriving at my side, and draping his arm possessively around my shoulders.

   “Really?” said the woman, eyeing me quizzically.  I smiled at her serenely.  She seemed completely unconvinced, of course, it did seem like a bit of jest.  Jorge was hardly my type.  He was probably about ten years older than me, and he spoke effusively, with a thick, French accent.  He was just barely taller than me, and he was almost completely bald. I was also quite sure that he was gay, but if this was what rumors Jorge wanted flying about Hollywood, then so be it.  I wasn’t about to contradict anything he said, on the record.

   “Oh darling, I had so hoped to keep it a secret a little bit longer.  Now the press will never leave the two of us alone,” I told him, with a bit of a pout.

   “I know my sweet, but it was going to come out sooner or later,” crooned Jorge, taking me by the hand and leading me away from the annoying reporter.

   Jorge led me over to the bar and handed me a glass of wine.  I took it from him and took a small sip, relieved to be away from the scrutinizing eyes of the reporter.

   “Thank you for following my lead.  I appreciate your discretion, it is better this way.  Believe me,” said Jorge, giving me a little smile.

   “If you say so,” I told him, giving him a bland smile.

   “I usually trust that these things will just blow over, but this time, I am not certain I can count on that,” said Jorge, staring me down seriously.

   “Really Jorge, why is that?” I asked, he laughed in delight.

   “I imagine I must place half of the blame on your somewhat, colorful past,” he said, raising his eyebrows at me seductively.

   “And the other half of the blame?” I asked, tilting my head to the side a little.  I gave him a cool smile.

   “My keen observation skills.  I could not help but notice that there is a bit of a spark between you and Brannon.  I think he is finding himself quite charmed by you,” said Jorge, flashing me a sly smile.

   “I guess I’m finding myself charmed by him as well.  For some reason I can’t seem to help myself,” I said.

   Jorge gave me a gentle smile.  “I imagine it’s partially my fault, I had let my guard down.  Since you are now over forty, I find it quite ironic that nearly twenty five years later, you can still turn on the charm and seduce any man you want,” said Jorge, giving me a little wink.

   “Mr. Broussard, what do you know of my life, twenty five years ago?” I asked, I was assessing him haughtily.  I did have a somewhat colorful past, but thankfully, most people didn’t seem to remember that anymore.

   “Perhaps you do not remember me, but I was Tom Singleton’s assistant in France, when you skated with the Theater Company. I guess I remember you best as Justin Melbourne’s wife,” said Jorge, flashing me a sly smile.