Once her image disappeared, Stone scrubbed his hands over his face. This was a nightmare. He had no idea what to expect the next day and his whole family was counting on him not to mess up.
He glanced at the clock. Shit, he still had to pack. He grabbed his suitcase and got to work.
Nine
Being packed into a private plane with more than a dozen dancers, ten other celebrities, and the show’s two hosts—Juan Carlos Perez, an Afro Dominican former teen idol, and Reggie Kong, a Taiwanese American stylist to the stars—reminded Stone of crowding into small spaces with his family. Everyone joked and teased each other with an easy camaraderie, and groups split off for private conversations. Since Gina and Natasha were huddled into their seats next to each other with eye masks and ear plugs, Stone sat with Alan and Jackson.
People were filming videos on their phones and snapping selfies left and right, but no one was mic’d. A team of producers and stage managers would meet them in New York.
“It’s like being on the school bus without the teacher,” Jackson said, glancing around the plane.
Lauren wandered over to them. “Hey, boys.”
She leaned over the back of Stone’s seat and twined her fingers in his hair. Stone bit back a sigh, wishing he’d thought to tie his hair back into a bun.
“Do you two know each other already?” Jackson asked, pointing to Lauren and Alan. “You’re both Olympians.”
Alan shook his head. “Winter and Summer. Big difference.”
“And technically they’re separate events, with separate committees.” Lauren sent a pointed glance at Alan’s prosthetic leg, visible below his cargo shorts.
Stone’s blood boiled at her insinuation, but Alan only shrugged and said, “For now.”
“Well, we’re all on equal ground in the ballroom,” Jackson said, drawing Lauren’s attention.
She scoffed. “That’s what you think. Only one of us here has spent her whole life learning to dance on ice skates. This show is going to be a breeze.”
Jackson flashed her a sharp grin. “It’s not just about the dancing, sweetheart.”
“I know,sweetheart,” Lauren shot back. “It’s a fucking popularity contest, and I’m already a household name.”
“Because you’re a gold medalist, right?” Jackson tapped his chin, then snapped his fingers and pointed to Alan. “No, wait. That’s him.”
With a snarl, Lauren stalked off to the other end of the plane.
“She’s got a rep for being nasty,” Alan said in a low voice once she was out of earshot. “Watch out for her.”
“Bring it,” Jackson said. Then he nodded at Stone. “Maybe you’re the one who’d better watch out. That girl’s got her eye on you.”
Stone sighed. “What am I supposed to do about it?”
Jackson shrugged. “Just saying. I wouldn’t touch her with a ten-foot pole. Her partner, though…” He twisted in his seat and waved to Kevin, who was taking pictures with Rick Carruthers. “That boy can get it.”
Stone put Lauren out of his mind and slept for a few hours before they landed in New York. Everyone donned baseball caps and dark sunglasses, like it was some kind of “I’m incognito” uniform, which Stone would have found funny if he weren’t so tired. A party bus waited to drive them to theMorning Mixstudios in Midtown Manhattan. SinceMorning MixandThe Dance Offwere owned by the same network, the lively morning news show always got the scoop on the cast announcement.
The next two hours were a rush of activity. The drive into Manhattan offered a brief glimpse of the Empire State Building from the car windows, glinting in the dawn. From the bus, they were hustled into the studio building for a whirlwind turn through hair and makeup, before receiving barked instructions on how they should enter the set.
Stone waited backstage with Gina, who managed to look fresh as a daisy despite the early hour. His own eyes were gritty with lack of sleep, and his back hurt from being jammed into a plane seat for six hours.
Gina’s hand rubbed small circles on his lower back. She hadn’t done anything like that since the club. “You ready for this?”
“No. Not at all.”
Her brows dipped in concern. “What do you mean?”
He struggled to put it into words. “I’m not good with interviews. Promise you’ll do all the talking?”
“I—okay.” She smiled and touched his arm. “I’ll handle the questions. You’ve got the strong, silent type thing down pat.”
