Chapter 2 Luca
How Jack had persuaded me to take part in a fucking ice-skating show was beyond me.
Actually, that was a lie. A strong dose of best friend/agent blackmail, emotional blackmail, and career blackmail had played a huge role.
Jack was a horrible person.
“Come on, you big dope, turn that frown upside down.” He smiled like a clown from the driver’s seat.
I answered him with a glare, even though he was solely focused on the road and the heavy rain hitting the windshield. In typical England fashion, the weather was miserable despite the fact it was July. It suited my mood perfectly.
“You’re about to meet your new besties for potentially the next sixteen weeks.
You don’t want to give them a bad impression, do you?
” Despite his living in the States for over ten years, Jack’s British dialect and accent stood strong.
He’d moved to L.A. when he was nineteen to shadow my then-agent but flew back and forth frequently to see his family.
Jack loved the busy lifestyle, which was why he was happy to follow wherever my work took us.
I groaned and stared at him across the console. “For fuck’s sake, Jack, don’t call them my besties.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m a grown man and don’t use the term ‘bestie.’ I’m also not here to make friends.”
“Your toxic masculinity is really shining through there, my friend. Not only are you afraid of making friends, but you’re also afraid of using feminine words.”
“I am not afraid of either of those things.”
“Then why can’t we use it, huh? Am I not your bestie?”
“Nancy used the word at the end of every sentence, and it still sends shivers up my spine when I think about her.” It would have been too kind to liken my ex-girlfriend to Satan. I avoided thinking about her at all costs.
“Hmm, fine. I’ll give you that this time.” He patted my knee, and I rolled my eyes. “But still, you do have to be friendly with these people, Luca. That’s the whole point of being on the show.”
To fix my image, he’d explained, when he’d told me that I was going to be busy for potentially the following four months.
I hadn’t done much of anything since moving to the UK with Jack and my mother.
Other than exercise and cooking, I’d kept my head down, so Stars on Ice was going to be a shock to the system.
“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—”