Chapter 2 Luca #2
“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.”