Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
F riday started far too early with hair and makeup, which meant they had to leave the hotel by five. She gathered Luc wasn’t an early bird, not like she’d learned to be, anyway. But appearing on morning TV would finally let the cat out of the bag. Nobody knew about her involvement in this, not even Bailey’s family, as per their contract. Even Poppy only knew that Bailey had received an unexpected dancing opportunity which meant she needed to fly east immediately. Dancers knew such opportunities were rare, and as they often resulted from injury or illness to another dancer, they needed chasing down immediately. A fresh swell of appreciation rose for her friend for being so quick to say yes to covering her classes, few questions asked. She couldn’t wait to return to her apartment, where Poppy was staying, and finally spill the beans.
The rush of the morning saw them share a taxi with Coco and Jason, and they arrived at the studios in front of an audience.
Hair and makeup were done, costumes were tweaked—another blingy number for her, hot pink this time—and they were microphoned up and sent to take their seats on the stage.
She sat in the row behind Luc, and she watched him roll his shoulders as if trying to release the tension. After this morning’s national broadcast, there’d be no hiding anymore. She leaned forward and patted his shoulder. “It’s gonna be fine,” she murmured.
He exhaled. “I sure hope so.”
Miguel, one of the male pro dancers, smirked and shook his head as she settled back in her seat, saying in an undertone, “He does not seem like he wants to be here.”
“It’s been a little sudden, and I think it’s taking time to sink in.”
He nodded, his voice still low. “You two took the place of Carlos and Lesley, didn’t you?” He whistled. “They got too hot too quick, if you know what I mean.”
Oh, she knew. Coco had spilled the tea last night. Lesley had been part of the pros for years, even marrying a dancer who competed on a US version of this show, and Carlos was a married celebrity comedian known for having thousands of YouTube subscribers. They’d met, their first dance quickly flaming into more which the producers had noted and raised the alarm bells. Then the media had rushed in, rumor-mongering over their relationship after they’d been spotted together at a dance studio, which had led to negative whispers about the show. To avoid being cancelled, the show’s executive producers had needed to hurry the release date, and replace the celebrity and pro, hence the rush to get things done this week, then begin the live performances next weekend. Knowing that had helped with understanding the haste with which all had been arranged.
“Well, it’s good to have you here, kid. Break a leg.” Miguel gently patted her arm, in a way like her friend Mark used to do. She smiled, returning to face the front, catching the way Luc seemed to notice as he shifted too, his heavily tattooed arms now crossed.
The heat of the lights and instructions from the warm-up guy to smile and give big energy put paid to further reflections, and she did her best to look happy while she prayed Luc would do the same. From what Coco had said, Bailey needed to capitalize on her relative youth and looks, and play up her work with the underprivileged dancers in her community. Luc also needed to appear amiable, not surly or cocky, and she hoped he’d find the right balance of endearing clumsiness and have-a-go confidence to win audience votes. They needed to get to round three, if not further, in order for her to get the money she needed.
She glanced at the other members of the cast. There were a couple of actors, an ex-football player she’d noticed Luc had gravitated to that first night at the cocktail party, two singers, and an author. She bet they could take the author and the eighties one-hit wonder singer, at least.
Francesca McLinty, one of the Good Morning, Canada breakfast TV anchors, walked onto the set, waved to the seated guests as an assistant spoke to her, then took her spot on the sound stage. A producer counted down, silence fell, then the intro music was piped across the room.
Francesca beamed. “Welcome back, and we’re so excited to be introducing you to this year’s cast of Dance off Canada !”
Cue cheering and applause. Bailey grinned and clapped. This was actually kind of fun. More fun because she strongly suspected she’d not have to say too much, and could sit here in the second row and smile while the spotlight was on the celebrities seated in front.
“We’re so excited to have this next season starting next weekend, and there’s no one more excited than Dance Off ’s host, Jenna Bellameade.”
More cheering. Jenna was a ballroom legend, having won world titles back-to-back a decade ago. She’d been hosting the show for all five seasons, alongside Peter Drewe, another former dance pro.
The morning show hosts interviewed Jenna, then the judges, Marco, John and Cynthia, each of whom were legendary dancers of their day. Marco was a flamboyant European, John was an intense choreographer, and Cynthia was the “rose between two thorns” as she often liked to say, and the one who always sandwiched critiques between compliments.
Bailey had been learning what they liked, listening to Coco, and watching videos of previous seasons to learn how they were likely to judge. Marco wanted passion, John was the technical guru, while Cynthia was all about how well the celebrity sold the story. Bailey glanced at Luc. She wasn’t sure how much story he’d be up for telling, and she was pretty sure his technical skills were close to zero. She hoped the passion he brought to hockey would somehow translate to the dance floor.
“And we’re so excited to see all these fabulous celebrities! Wow.” Francesca, the morning host, glanced around. “Put up your hand if you’re just a little nervous about dancing on national television.”
Bailey raised hers, while Luc raised both of his.
“I’m a little concerned about the dancers who are pros who are raising their hands,” Marco said, as everyone laughed.
Francesca drew her microphone over to where they sat. “Now I’m here with Booker Prize winning author, Kate Fortescue. Kate, tell us, why do something like this?”
Kate leaned forward, as Miguel straightened. “I’m at an age when I want to try new things, and dancing is something I’ve always enjoyed watching others do but have never had the confidence to do myself. I’m hopeful that after this experience I’ll be more confident.”
“You will be, baby,” Miguel called, to a general round of laughter.
Francesca smiled. “You’re partnered with Miguel, who won two seasons ago, so you’re in with a good chance.”
“I hope so.”
Bailey’s stomach tensed as Francesca moved to Luc. “Now, seated beside Kate, we have a treat.”
“Yes, we do,” Marco called, with a solid lip smack.
Bailey kept her smile pasted on, as she internally cringed over what Luc must be thinking.
Francesca laughed. “Known for dodging defensemen and scoring fast goals, can hockey star Luc Blanchard shake it on the dance floor as well as he can skate on ice? Luc Blanchard, welcome. Tell us, how are you feeling?”
Bailey held her breath.
Luc cleared his throat and leaned forward. “When I got the call I kind of freaked out, but I’m always glad for the opportunity to shine a light on those charities that support people with cancer, even if it means I have to look like a fool.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll be great,” Francesca soothed. “And I’m sure being a top athlete you’ll bring some advantages to the dance floor.”
Luc shrugged. “Maybe. It’s cool that it’s live, because I’m used to that pressure-filled environment and I love feeding off the energy in the room. I’ve been training in the offseason, so my cardio will be good. I just need to work on my rhythm—and everything else.”
“I’m sure your partner will help with that. Let’s give it up for our newest dance pro Bailey Donovan.”
Bailey’s stomach tensed, but she pushed past it and waved, grinning wider.
“How are you feeling Bailey?” Francesca asked. “I noticed you put up your hand before.”
Bailey nodded. “I love dance, and I’m a bit nervous about doing this for the first time, but I’m also really excited to be here. I think it’s wonderful to see people step into something they thought was too hard and end up feeling like they’ve learned a new skill.”
“What did you know about Luc before you took this gig?”
Her smile faltered. She hitched it up. “If I’m completely honest, I didn’t know too much. We might live in the same city but,” she leaned forward, cupping her mouth, “don’t tell anyone, but I’m actually not a huge hockey fan.”
“Whoa!” Francesca mock-gasped, as Luc swiveled in his seat with a fake scowl.
“Don’t hate me!” Bailey said, hands palms up in surrender.
“Well, it seems most of us know that Luc has some skills on the ice, but you’ll be teaching him some new moves, too, huh?”
“Exactly!” She grinned and waved again.
“Anything else to say, Luc?” Francesca asked.
He glanced back at Bailey. “I think I’ve got the perfect partner. She looks sweet, but she’s tough, and we’re gonna do our best to crush the competition,” Luc said, pointing at the camera. “As long as I don’t crush her first.”
“Them’s fighting words,” Miguel murmured, as the studio erupted in more laughter.
But even as they smiled, she knew that was the key to getting Luc engaged. He was competitive, and so was she. She’d need to find a way to flick that switch and get him focused on winning, and not all the obstacles surrounding them.
Her shoulders straightened. She couldn’t wait to get home and finally start teaching the bear man she’d been partnered with.
* * *
Why had he bothered to answer the group’s video call? Luc sighed, as the murmurs of the airport lounge faded as his friends’ mockery continued.
“Dude. No way.”
Ryan hadn’t stopped laughing since Luc had joined the group video chat five minutes ago.
“Stop it. You’re embarrassing yourself.”
Ryan pointed to himself. “I’m not the one who’s going to be embarrassed. What the heck?”
“Yeah, come on, Lukey baby, you gotta admit, this is a shock,” Vancouver’s Chris Thomas said. “Weren’t you the one sitting at a table only a week or so ago saying you didn’t dance? You been keeping this a secret, huh?”
“No.” Luc winced. “It’s still true. I can’t dance.”
“Then why on earth agree to do a dance show?”
Luc sighed, and shook his head. “Nothing has been officially announced yet but the club tapped me for being captain.”
“They did?” Mike Vaughan, Calgary’s captain asked. “That’s fantastic.”
“That’s awesome,” Jai Mullins, the alternate captain for San Jose, said. “Congrats.”
Chris applauded. “About time. You’re the best they’ve got, especially now Linzey has left.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” Chris grinned.
“So, what’s that got to do with dancing?” Ryan asked.
Luc shrugged. “They wanted me to raise my profile.”
This sent Ryan off in another peal of laughter.
“What?”
“I don’t think you can get a higher profile than announcing that. Everyone is talking about it. Have you seen what they’re saying on TSN?”
He sighed. No, he hadn’t, and he had every intention of keeping it that way. He’d posted on Instagram like the team and show wanted, careful to keep the focus on the cancer fundraising part, but hadn’t read any of the comments. He didn’t dare. And now he needed to get the heat off him and turn this conversation’s focus onto Ryan. “Anyone else think Ryan is a little too happy these days?”
“Don’t think you can try and change the subject, man.”
Huh. Ryan was getting entirely too feisty since going out with Sylvie. She was good for him.
“I personally am loving the fact that Mister I’m Never Doing Anything Girly is going to be dancing on national TV.” Mike grinned. “I can’t wait to see what he has to wear.”
“My vote is for pirate sleeves,” Chris said. “Hey, I bet they’ll make you do a bare-chested one.”
“They better not,” he growled.
“Come on. Don’t you think that’ll get your socials moving?”
“The wrong direction, maybe.”
“Do you have to wear makeup?” Jai asked.
Man. He groaned.
“I’m taking that as a yes,” Jai said, which earned another round of laughter from Ryan.
“You guys are not exactly being supportive right now,” he grumbled.
“Your partner is pretty,” Chris said. He waggled his eyebrows.
“Don’t go there, man. She is, but we can’t do anything.”
“Now that sounds like a man who wants to do something,” Jai teased.
“Yeah, the very man who said he’s not doing relationships until he’s quit hockey.” Ryan grinned.
“And I’m not,” he snapped. “There’s nothing there. She’s a professional, and so am I. And anyway, I don’t want a relationship with her.”
Judging from the new round of jeers he shouldn’t have bitten. This was such a mistake. He was gonna get slaughtered, crucified, his rep would never be the same. As soon as he’d finished this morning’s interview, his phone had blown up with all kinds of mocking tease. He’d thought answering the video call from his friends would be the easiest way to explain what was going on, but clearly this was a mistake. If his friends were treating him like this, what would his teammates say? What would all the opposition teams say? They’d think he’d gone softer than soft, couldn’t play hard or fight anymore, and the reputation he’d built up these past ten years would be blown to smithereens.
“If it makes you feel any better, I can’t wait to see you dance, man,” Mike said.
“So proud of you,” Bree Vaughan called from the background. “Don’t listen to them, Luc, you’ll be great!”
He exhaled heavily, then glanced across at where Bailey sat frowning at her phone, headphones in. He hoped she hadn’t heard what he’d said about her. Even if it was true. Well, kinda true. He could be a professional— would be a professional about this. Just because they were spending lots of time together, and he was noticing all kinds of things about her, like how soft her skin was, or how light lived in her hair, or how good she smelled, didn’t mean anything had to happen. It couldn’t. They had a clause in their contract forbidding it.
“Is she there?” Ryan asked.
“No,” he fibbed.
“She is, isn’t she?” Bree said again.
Luc sighed. “Haven’t we had a conversation or two about how these chats are supposed to only be for us guys? No offense, Bree.”
“None taken,” she said. “So, is she? I want to meet her if she is.”
“No. She’s busy, and anyway, I want to change the topic. You know I’d much prefer to talk about manly things.”
“Too late for that, Mister Dancing King,” Mike teased.
“Yeah, put her on,” Chris said.
He sighed, and nudged Bailey. She took off her headphones and looked at him. “Hey, do you mind talking to the guys?”
“And me,” Bree’s voice called.
He winced. “And Bree Vaughan?”
“Who are they?”
Laughter fell from his phone. “I loved she didn’t know who he was,” Ryan said.
“What else was it she said?” Jai said. “She didn’t know much about hockey? Luc’s ego must’ve sunk to a new low.”
Just wait until they saw him dance. Ugh.
“Sounds like she doesn’t know who any of us are.”
“So we got a clean slate to work with here, fellas,” Chris said. “Time to spill all the juice on our Luc here.”
Man. “Just say hi.” Luc shoved the phone at her.
Bailey instantly grinned and waved at the screen. “Hi.”
Then, in a boss move, she handed it back. He fist-bumped his appreciation. Well, tried to, but she looked at his clenched fist as if not sure what to do with it, so he dropped his hand. Clearly they were from different worlds.
“She’s pretty,” Bree said.
“And she can still hear you.”
“Good! Then tell her I’m happy to tell her anything she needs to know.” Bree smirked.
“You don’t know as much as we do, babe,” Mike said, wrapping an arm around his wife.
Bailey laughed, and gestured for Luc’s phone. He shook his head. No way was this getting out of control any more than it already had.
“Tell her I’ve just followed her on Instagram,” Bree yelled.
Bailey tapped her screen and held up her own phone. “Tell her I’ve just done it back.”
“No, you can’t,” Luc protested. “They’re my friends, not yours.”
“Too bad, so sad,” she retorted, snatching his phone back. “I’m all about making new friends. Hi there!” She waved at the screen again, then shot him a smirk.
He fought a grin. She was ridiculously pretty, and he kind of loved how she took charge like that. She might look sweet and innocent, but she was tough, too.
“So, what do you guys want to know?” Bailey grinned at the screen. “Do we need to start a private group chat for behind-the-scenes Luc dance talk?”
“Yeah!” came a variety of voices.
“Look, don’t tell them,” he begged, reaching across to grab the phone, his arms tangling around her, as his friends’ faces bobbed away.
“Whoa, it’s Luc Blanchard!”
Luc stilled, as a teenager held up his phone. His hands inched away from where his arms had been around Bailey. She pulled away, straightening, and handed Luc’s phone back. Luc ended the call, then faced the teen. “It’s not what you think.”
“Uh-huh.”
Man. He couldn’t afford to have scandal follow him. Not when he hadn’t even been officially announced as the captain. He peeked at Bailey, who still wore her own wide eyes, and murmured, “I’m sorry.”
“We’re on show now, aren’t we?” she whispered.
He nodded. Truth be told, he’d always been on show. That was why the club insisted on players wearing suits to game days, to show they were professional. He couldn’t afford to be caught in any compromising position—or any position that could be misunderstood or misconstrued—especially now.
She glanced at the boy, who was still filming them. “Excuse me, but you know you’re supposed to ask before filming someone, don’t you? Otherwise it’s a breach of privacy, and you could get charged.”
The teen lowered his phone. “I thought you and him were just on national TV.”
She nodded. “We were. After agreeing to that. And now we’re here as private citizens. And I don’t consent to you filming me without my permission. Would you like me to film you without asking your permission?” She retrieved her phone, and started recording.
“Bailey,” Luc murmured.
She shrugged. “I just think it’s rude to do that. And I don’t know that this young man has ever thought about what an invasion of privacy that kind of behavior can be. Or,” she added in a louder voice, “whether it’s something that needs to be reported to the police.”
“Bailey,” he hissed, as the kid swore and moved away.
“What?”
The team had plenty of media training to deal with similar things. “You can’t go rogue on the public like that.”
“Even though he’d just gone rogue on you and me?”
“But what if he gets ticked, and finds out where you live, or where your studio is? I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.” Like people trashing her apartment, or her business. Or hurting her. His stomach clenched.
“What do you think could happen?”
Man. If she really didn’t know, he wasn’t about to tell her. “I just want you to be safe, that’s all.”
“Look, I’m sorry if that was uncomfortable for you, and I get that you’ve got a reputation to protect. But I’ve looked into this. I’m used to having to get all kinds of permission for parents to film when we have ballet concerts, so he needs to know this is wrong.” She held up her phone. “And now I’ve got proof of who he is.”
A reluctant wave of admiration swept through him. She was a lot tougher than she looked. Which meant there was no way she could connect with his friends, who would only tease him more and probably tell her all kinds of things he really didn’t want her to know. Especially since he had lied before about not wanting any kind of relationship with her.