“This has him written all over it, bless his heart. Getting to dance and put his hands on some figure skaters? I feel like that’s the boy’s wet dream.”
I scrunched my face in disgust. “Mom, gross. Don’t say shit like that.”
“You mind your language with me, Luca.”
“You just said ‘wet dream’—that’s worse.”
“I’m an adult.” She crossed her arms over her chest and raised her brows.
“And I’m not?”
“So, you really want to get back into the industry?” She changed the subject, her voice suddenly bouncing with excitement. Her eyes were bright as she searched my face, looking more awake than she had momentsago.
I nodded, taking a sip of mytea.
“But whyStars on Ice? That show isn’t like your usual projects.”
It went against everything I stood for, but it was time to tell a little whitelie.
I didn’t want to tell her aboutDirty Dancingin case I didn’t get the part—there was nothing more crushing than false hope, and I also didn’t want to go into detail about how I was having to prove myself to get a role. As someone who wasn’t famous herself but had married into fame, she was too familiar with what it was like to jump through hoops to get people to likeyou.
When she and my father met, my father was already a famous Hollywood movie producer. My mother had moved from the UK and was working in a bar in Spain. He was there on business, andshe was traveling. They fell madly in love, and she gave up her life to follow him wherever his job tookhim.
Surrounded by famous people 24/7, she was constantly trying to impress them so as not to embarrass my father. Hell, she followed him across the world, even if she didn’t want to, just because she knew it would make him happy.
When she’d been diagnosed with amyotrophic lateral sclerosis four years ago and my father had filed for divorce, I was outraged. She had a life-shortening neurological disease, and he couldn’t be bothered to stick by her side. But she was almost…relieved when he ended things. When I demanded she fight back, she told me about how unhappy their marriage had been, and how, after years of fixing and patching things, she’d had enough.
So we moved to theUK.
Moving made sense for both of us: I needed a break from Hollywood and she wanted to return to her home, where she felt most comfortable.
I wanted to get the part for her, as a thank-you for all she’d done for me to succeed; I wanted her to be proud of me. And since there was no guarantee of how long I had left with her, I couldn’t waste any time.
“If I clear up my image, the paparazzi might finally stop spewing nonsense about me and producers might start considering me for lead roles again. I haven’t seen the show before, but Jack thinks it’s family-friendly and there’ll be lots of opportunities to…show the people who I am.” I cringed at the last part. I didn’t give a fuck what people thought about me, but it was a sacrifice I was prepared to make.
Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t like that you feel you have to ‘fix your image.’ ”
I sipped my tea so I didn’t have to respond with another lie, but she didn’t press the point further.
“Honestly, I’m just so happy you’re going to be acting again—doing something you love. There are quite a lot of lovely skaters on the show, too.” Ah, sothatwas her reason for letting itgo.
“Have you seen the show, then?”
“Obviously! Almost everyone in the UK has seenit.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“Soooo…” she drawled. “Are you partnered with someone lovely?”
“I wouldn’t saylovely.”
“Who are you partnered with, then?”
“One of the female skaters.”
“Luca Vasvault, you will tell me who you’re partnered with—”
“Mom.”
