Laying Low in Hollywood (11 page)

   I cursed myself, what was wrong with me? I had almost made a huge mistake!  I wanted a man who wasn’t mine for the taking.  I could not submit to my body’s insane longing for him.

   Ron was standing there, just a few feet away staring at me in shock.  His breathing was labored and he looked so hurt, you would have thought that I had slapped him.

   “Lane why do you push me away, when I know you want me too?  I can feel it, you can’t deny it,” he whispered, his voice was heavy with emotion.

   “Goodbye Ron,” I snapped, picking up my bag and leaving him standing there in the lobby.  I wasn’t strong enough to face my feelings for Ron.  Maybe I was just weak because Greg had hurt me so badly.  I wasn’t really sure.  What I was sure of was that Jorge Broussard was a very powerful man, and I had no intention, whatsoever, of pissing him off.

             
                                                       
CHAPTER 11

   Somehow, I managed to make it till Wednesday, and the taping of our first show in front of a live audience.  The network had made it into a big tadoo and was billing the season opener as an exclusive event, as the entire audience was there by invitation only. 

   I was excited because I had choreographed our team’s little 30 second teaser into a steamy tango, with the death spiral as the grand finale!  I was almost certain that none of the other teams would try something so risky, right at the very beginning. 

   Ron and Elena had been practicing faithfully all week and I had actually been a little bit surprised myself, as our little teaser looked completely incredible!  Putting an advanced move into our intro was a bold move, and all our practices had been closed, so I hoped that the other teams would all pee in their pants when they saw that my team actually had a death spiral! 

   Since all the performances this week were just intros, there were no required elements and the teams could pretty much do whatever they felt comfortable doing.  I was giggling to myself, I was sure no other team would try anything even remotely risky.

   The premier was going to be a huge deal!  The network had been promoting the show shamelessly with 30 second teasers all week.  They had invited some of the biggest names in figure skating to come to tonight’s performance and make comments on the talent.  To be included among the invited guests were family members of the cast, including Ron’s wife Jenae and his daughters Arianna and McKenna.

   The morning of the premier was crazy busy.  My team had our final practice and I was scheduled to accompany the skaters to their final costume fitting.  The costumes I had picked out for them were red and black Spanish style outfits, suitable for a tango.  Elena squealed with delight when she tried her sexy dress on.

   “Look at me, I am a flamingo dancer,” she giggled, the seamstress tugged on her sleeve and gave her an odd look.

   “It’s flamenco dancer Elena,” I told her with a giggle.  Elena didn’t care, she was too busy fussing with her long ruffled skirt to pay me any mind.

   I was doing my best to avoid looking at Ron, he looked so handsome.  I kept myself busy by pretending to fuss with the ruffles at the neckline of Elena’s dress.

   Since my recent lapse of good judgement, Ron and I had tried to keep our time together completely professional, though Jorge was right, there was some sort of crazy chemistry between the two of us.  I just hoped that it wasn’t completely obvious to everyone else, especially his wife, who was in town for the taping of the first episode of the show.  I was already anxious about meeting her.  Hopefully, she wouldn’t notice the undeniable chemistry Ron and I had together.

   That evening the taping of the show went well.  Ron and Elena performed like true professionals.  The tango steps even appeared to be appropriately passionate, despite the fact that the passion that Elena and Ron felt for each other was extreme dislike, not love.

   Watching the other teams perform was a bit comical.  None of the other routines were technically difficult at all, we were the only team to try anything a bit tricky.  I was now secretly glad that I had not been assigned one of the hockey players.  They may have experience skating, but not in figure skates, and it was the figure skates that they were required to wear, that were tripping them up.  They were used to zipping around the rink in hockey skates, not skates with toe picks. 

   Team Muramsatsu had a bit of a rough performance due to the toe picks.  I pretended to concerned and shocked when Mick stumbled, but I was secretly pleased.

   After the performance, we mingled with everyone in the lobby.  I was trapped there between Jorge, who was still desperately trying to pass me off as his girlfriend and Ron, who I was hopelessly attracted to.

   I had tuned out most of the din, but soon I realized Ron was speaking to me.

   “What?” I mumbled, suddenly returning to reality.

   “This is my wife Jenae.  Jenae, this is our coach and choreographer Lane Jensen,” said Ron.

   “Hello,” said Jenae, flashing me a condescending smile and offering me a limp handshake.

   “So nice to meet you,” I told her as I pulled my hand away, slightly disturbed.  There was something about a limp handshake that always set me on edge.  I was looking her over carefully and she seemed to be assessing me as well.

   Jenae Brannon was perfectly gorgeous.  She was tall, but still slightly shorter than me.  Her hair was swept up in an elegant chignon and she was wearing a dazzling designer dress with a plunging neckline that dipped so deep, she threatened to spill right out of the front of her dress.  I tried to remain expressionless, but I caught Jorge in the act of checking her out. 

   He gave me an embarrassed smile and whispered.  “They’re fake.”

   I rolled my eyes, but Jenae didn’t even notice, she was glancing ambitiously around the room.  She was obviously ready to mingle with people who were much more important than me. I was finding Mrs. Brannon to be haughty and detached.  Her children were standing there beside her, but they might as well have been miles away, as she barely acknowledged them.

   “These are your girls?” I asked, smiling at them.

  “Yes,” said Ron, beaming proudly.  “Arianna and McKenna.”

   “Such beautiful and well mannered young ladies.  How did you like your daddy’s skating?” I asked them, with a smile.

   “It was funny!” said McKenna, with a little giggle.

   “Yeah, I didn’t know he could skate at all.  I thought he was going to mess up bad,” said Arianna.

   “How do you girls like it in Hollywood?” I asked them.

   “It’s fun!” cried McKenna, excitedly.

   “Yeah, we got to go shopping on Rodeo drive,” said Arianna.

   “Mr. Broussard tells me you’re the best choreographer on the cast,” said Jenae, eyeing me with barely concealed disdain.  I was still clinging to Jorge’s arm, hopelessly trying to convince Jenae, and everyone else, that Jorge and I were lovers.

   “Oh Jorge, you’re such a bragger,” I said, kissing him on the cheek affectionately.

   “Darling, why would I lie?  Nobody’s better than you,” he growled, spanking me on the behind, familiarly.  I gave Jorge a stern glare, but I didn’t slap him, like I really wanted to.  I kind of thought he was taking this girlfriend thing, a little too far.

   I was hoping, Jenae didn’t notice that Ron had given Jorge a stern glare as well, and he was now rolling his eyes miserably over the entire, ridiculous charade.

   “Hopefully you’re good enough to ensure that Ron makes it to the finals.  We could use the extra money.  You’ve no idea what a pay cut he had to endure when he retired from football,” said Jenae, shaking her head miserably.

    “Oh, that’s so sad,” I mused.  “Rest assured, I will do my best Mrs. Brannon.”  I had to bite my lower lip, I almost burst into maniacal laughter.  Poor Jenae, she thought she was suffering, she probably had no idea how the rest of the world was struggling in these hard times.  Even with his enormous pay cut, Ron still made probably five times what I made back in Colorado Springs.  The Brannon family was hardly anywhere near the poverty level.  Though I must admit that my own fortunes had improved since I arrived in Hollywood.

   I was happy that the taping was over for the night.  We were scheduled to go to the gala send off party, yet another publicity ploy, that the network had cooked up to promote the show.  I was expected to attend, as part of my contract.  I wasn’t looking forward to it, big Hollywood parties were not really my style, I planned to show up for a few hours then go back to the condo and straight to bed.  For some reason, I was completely exhausted.

   At the gala,  I had no choice, but to spend the entire evening on Jorge’s arm.  He was determined for everyone to believe that the two of us were a couple, and it was working, though it was getting a little nauseating for me.

   I may have been on Jorge’s arm, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off of Ron.  Now that I had met his wife, I realized she was just as awful as I had imagined she was.  They had been married for fifteen years, he told me that things had been different in the beginning, the money had changed who she really was, now the need for it, consumed her. 

   Every time I caught his eye, he would give me a little smile, it was the only time he smiled all night.  He was obviously miserable, I was obviously miserable.  Jenae had sent their girls back to her hotel with a babysitter and she was busy working the crowd, and dragging Ron along with her. 

   I was completely bored with the entire affair.  I was not a Hollywood socialite, and I had no desire to stay there and work the crowd.  I had no acting ambitions, I had taken this job just to try something different, now that I was here, I realized that Hollywood was not the place for me.  As soon as the show finished taping, I planned to go back to Colorado Springs.  Hollywood was not really my style.

   Unfortunately, it seemed as if I wouldn’t be escaping the party any time soon.  Jorge was obviously afraid I was going to sneak off with Ron if he took his eyes off me for a single second.  I was stuck there, as Jorge ambitiously tried to convince everyone that the two of us were sleeping together.  I was growing quite tired of his annoying sexual innuendo and his new found need to spank me or grope me, just to prove his point.

   After an especially annoying encounter, Jorge and I were finally standing in a corner alone, just watching the crowd in front of us.  “Are we going to have sex later?” I whispered.  I was messing with him, I wanted to giggle, I’d had a few glasses of wine, everything was starting to seem completely hilarious to me.

   “Oooh, why would you ask me that?” asked Jorge, eyeing me disgustedly.

   “It’s the foreplay darling.  That’s the second time tonight that you’ve spanked me.  It’s making me totally hot,” I told him, raising my eyebrows at him playfully.

   “Good God, if you want to get laid so badly maybe you should hook up with Mick Santos.  Look at the man, he’s nothing but a raw piece of male meat, and very single,” said Jorge  looking me over, disgustedly.

   “Maybe I just want your meat,” I told him, flashing him a seductive smile.  I was trying hard not to giggle.  I was being very naughty, but I had decided I was ready to leave, and Jorge was about to send me home without an argument.

   “You’re drunk!” he cried, glaring at me in shock.

   “Just a little bit,” I crooned, giving him a seductive smile and pressing a wet kiss on his cheek.

   “Bloody hell, we must get you out of here,” he snapped, glancing around the room nervously.  I had to conceal my satisfied smile, he thought I was totally wasted.  Of course, loose lips sink ships, and Jorge had no desire for me to drunkenly spill any secrets.  He was suddenly quite ready for me to go home.  I had draped myself on him, feigning inebriation, Jorge was completely horrified.

   “Maurice!” called Jorge, waving down our camera man.  Maurice trotted over to us quickly.  “Can you do me a favor and get Lane a taxi and make sure she gets back to her condo safely. I fear she’s had a bit too much to drink,” said Jorge, pressing a hundred dollar bill into Maurice’s hand.  Jorge watched him like a concerned parent, as Maurice took me by the arm and walked me toward the front lobby.

   I walked out clinging to Maurice’s arm, as the concierge got me my taxi.  I was quite pleased with my new found acting skills.  I was ecstatic to be leaving the party, until Maurice got into the cab with me, and I realized he planned to accompany me home, for some unknown reason. 

   I was leery as the cab pulled away from the curb, I  didn’t like this one bit.  I had never really trusted Maurice anyway, he came off as a bit of a sleeze ball, so needless to say, I was not happy to realize he planned to accompany me back to the condo.  I could only hope that he would see me in, and then go on his way.

   Within moments, my worst fears were realized.  Maurice gave me a creepy smile and slid closer to me.