The Enemy (Blitzed Book 2)

by JJ Knight

All three of them, dressed in flashy dresses, tons of cleavage, model-perfect hair, strolling in like they are the horsemen from the apocalypse.

  The angry dethroned finalists from Dance Blitz.

  Chapter Three

  Blitz jumps from his chair. “This was a setup!”

  Giselle smirks and juts her hips. Her honey-red hair is pale and lovely, falling around her face like Jessica Rabbit. Her red dress must be taped to her body, because the deep V plunges to her waist but molds to her curves. I feel dowdy just looking at her.

  “Blitz, baby,” she says. “I really hope you didn’t think you were done with us.”

  She sidles up to the chair. “Cameras are rolling, darling,” she says, her hands on Blitz’s shoulders. “Sit a spell.”

  Blitz falls back into the chair. Giselle sits on the arm next to him.

  Mariah, the dark-haired finalist, looks as regal as a princess in a cobalt blue dress slit up her thigh. She walks behind Blitz and perches on the back.

  Christy has totally changed her look, sweet and girl-next-door in a pretty pale yellow sundress. You would never guess that fans had once called her a “skank.” They’ve gotten organized. Stylists and coaches.

  Christy curls up at his feet. The four of them look ready for a photo shoot, the image perfectly balanced.

  Planned. Every bit of it.

  And Blitz knows. He tries to stand up again, but this time all three girls put their hands on him and push him back in place.

  “Smile for us, Blitz honey,” Giselle says through her teeth as the cameras flash. “You’re about to go viral.”

  I realize I’ve shrunk away from the group, scooting to the far side of my chair. My brain feels erased, and I’m paralyzed. Who did this?

  Flashes start popping. I turn to Hannah to see if it was her or this Doug guy, and she stands with her arms crossed, looking very satisfied.

  Oh, she is so fired. If there is any way we can get rid of her, we will do it.

  “So, ladies, how does it feel to be back with Blitz?” Doug asks.

  “Oh, we weren’t near through with this boy,” Giselle purrs. She runs a hand through Blitz’s hair and I want to slap her arm right off him.

  Blitz looks about to explode. He notices Hannah’s posture as well, and the cameras. Then he steals a glance at me.

  I’m sure I look like a scared rabbit. He closes his eyes a moment, then turns to Doug. “It seems some people won’t take no for an answer.”

  The girls giggle.

  I manage to straighten my spine and sit more normally in the chair. “Lewis?” I say, not really sure where my own voice is coming from.

  The store owner pops out from behind the camera crew. “Yes, Livia?” he asks.

  “Isn’t it time to let the fans up?”

  “Past time,” he says.

  “And how many girls out there are dressed as them?” I wave my hand in the general direction of the finalists.

  Lewis smiles. “Why, I don’t believe I saw any.”

  Hannah’s smile has faded and now a calculating look is on her face. She’s underestimated me.

  “Can you let the Livias in first?” I ask. “They seemed to be near the front. As a special favor.”

  “I’d be delighted,” Lewis says. He motions to one of the employees. “It does sound as though we should adjourn this interview and move to the signing table.”

  He comes forward to take my hand and lift me from the chair, blocking the cameras from their view of me.

  Blitz jumps from his seat, avoiding the three girls. He takes my hand and we head over to the signing table, where there are just two padded folding chairs.

  “I think those girls have had their say,” I tell Lewis. “You said you had some security?”

  “I do,” he says with a wink.

  Two of the burly guards head over to the finalists. I make a point not to watch what happens, organizing the pens and water bottles in front of us.

  Blitz stares over at his manager as if he could shoot poison darts from his eyes. We’re more or less alone, the photographers packing up now that we’re in less interesting positions and the flamboyant girls are gone. Geneva talks with Doug in hushed angry tones.

  “You okay?” I ask Blitz. I know how I’m feeling, scared to death and shocked that I was able to say what I did. My hands are trembling still.

  “I’m fine,” he says. “You were brilliant and got Lewis on your side. Cut those she-devils off at the knees by stopping their publicity.” He finally lets his eyes rest on me. “I haven’t been in charge of my own career since Dance Blitz started,” he says. “Everyone else has always run it, and I’ve done what was expected of me.”

  “I know,” I say. “It’s hard. Contracts and all.”

  “Screw the contracts,” Blitz says. “Let them sue me. I’m not going to do anything with those women.”

  The blue-dress girls start making their way up the stairs, followed by the snaking line. The noise levels rise dramatically as the first segments of the crowd are allowed inside the store.

  Blitz looks at them and smiles. “You always surprise me, Livia. You seem so shy and unassuming. Then you walk onto live television and make me dance with you. Or you take total charge of a press interview.”

  Lewis holds the crowd for another moment, checking wristbands and waving over two employees with large boxes of DVDs.

  “You taught me that,” I say to Blitz, leaning over to kiss his cheek. A flash pops and I realize the cameras haven’t really retreated, just moved back. “We’re going to make this work. Nobody can make you do anything.”

  The line moves forward and the blue-dress girls dash to the table. Blitz and I greet them and start our rhythm of pictures, signing, and smiles.

  Blitz calls Geneva over and gives her an exclusive interview with us and the Livia fans.

  But his manager Hannah stays off to one side, sitting in one of the round chairs we vacated. She watches us with an intensity that makes me squirm. I know if she has her way, Blitz won’t have that chance to drop into obscurity like he wants.

  And now she knows that I actually do stand in her way.

  Chapter Four

  When the signing finally ends, we load into the limo with a sour-faced Hannah.

  We’re less than a mile from the DVD store when the limo rolls to a stop.

  Hannah turns to the driver. “What are you doing?”

  “He’s doing what I asked,” Blitz says. “And we are getting away from you as fast as possible.” Blitz flings the back door open. “You don’t set up your biggest client like that and expect him to be all gracious and thankful.”

  Hannah’s coral lips pinch together. “You have a contract meeting at the set in three hours,” she says. “Don’t be late.”

  Blitz helps me out of the limo, then peers back in at her. “I’ll be there, Hannah. Unlike my manager, I respect the people I work with.”

  He slams the door.

  The limo driver escorts us over to a Mercedes, driven by yet another driver, this one younger and casually dressed in jeans and a white shirt.

  “Right on,” he says and opens the door for us.

  I glance back. Thankfully, Hannah hasn’t come out of the limo.

  We load into the new car and Blitz greets the new driver. “We’re starving,” he says. “Can you take us somewhere between here and the studio?”

  “Sure. You want something fancy? Or casual?”

  “Casual,” Blitz says. “Livia, what are you hungry for?”

  I glance down at the diamond cutout of my dress. I should have brought a change of clothes. “A salad?”

  “You’re right,” Blitz says. “I love that outfit, but I’m sure you want out of it.” He picks up his phone and hits a button. “Actually just take us to the Apple Pan,” he says to the driver. “Scout the inside.”

  The driver nods. Then Blitz is on his phone. “Jerry, run to my room and fetch outfits for me and Livia. Jeans and plain stuff.” He looks over at me for
confirmation and I nod. He glances down at my feet. “And some shoes. You have good taste. Bring it to the Apple Pan or just send it in a car.”

  Jerry is one of the wardrobe people. Probably the only one I like.

  Blitz sticks his phone in his pocket. “We’re going to be hot stuff for the next day or two after that footage gets out, but I think we’ll be okay for a few hours. You have sunglasses?”

  I dig in my bag and pull out a pair.

  “I don’t want you walking around in that dress. Images are probably already all over of it, and you’ll very easily be spotted.”

  I glance down again. It is a stupidly recognizable dress, bright green and revealing.

  “Come here,” Blitz says. He pulls me against him. “Have I told you lately that you are incredible?”

  I shake my head against his shoulder.

  “Well, you are.”

  “Should I go back to the hotel after we eat?” I ask.

  “Bennett asked for you to be at the contract meeting,” Blitz says.

  I sit up straight. “Bennett will be here?” He’s the benefactor behind Dreamcatcher Dance Academy, and he personally flew me to LA to be on Blitz’s show. It was his wife’s idea.

  “Yes. He’s a producer and he knew you’d be more comfortable with him there.”

  “Why am I involved?” I ask. “I didn’t sign anything.”

  “You were on the show,” Blitz says. “Hannah is treating us like a package deal.”

  “Then why did she have the finalists ambush us at a signing?”

  He shakes his head. “I have no idea. I’m sure we’re going to find out this afternoon.”

  “Are there always contract meetings on weekends?”

  “Hollywood doesn’t work on a normal schedule,” Blitz says. “The industry is your life.”

  “Interesting timing, though,” I say.

  “Isn’t it?” Blitz says. “Makes you wonder what they have up their sleeves.”

  We pull up in front of a rather simple white building with green pillars. “What is this place?” I ask.

  “A diner,” Blitz says. “I’m going to have every type of pie.”

  “Pie,” I say wistfully. “Now that’s something I haven’t had in a while.”

  “We are going to eat so much pie,” he says.

  The driver parks around the corner. “Doesn’t look too crazy,” he says. “Let me go check the situation.”

  Blitz nods.

  We sit snuggled against each other on the leather seat. I feel my anxiety levels start to drop a little. “I guess we should have brought a change of clothes,” I say. “Now we have to wait on Jerry.”

  “It’s fine,” he says. “I just wanted away from Hannah, and I’m sure she went back to the hotel.”

  “Can you fire her?”

  “Sure, but there’s a hell of a kill fee for her. And she still gets a percentage of anything related to Dance Blitz. She covered her ass.”

  “Was she different when you hired her?” I ask.

  Blitz laughs. “You don’t hire Hannah. She chooses you. You don’t say no to her.”

  “Does she have other clients?”

  “Not currently. She drops them if they aren’t performing. If I’m lucky, she’ll dump me.”

  “Sounds like she has plans to keep you working.” I watch Blitz’s face as his eyebrows draw together in annoyance.

  “She knows I can cut and run. They will all play their hand at the meeting later.”

  The driver returns to his seat. “They’ve reserved two chairs at the far side of the bar whenever you’re ready.”

  “Thanks,” Blitz says. “We just need Jerry.”

  “He shouldn’t be far behind unless he’s slow to leave,” the driver says. “The hotel is closer to here than we were.”

  “Jerry can be indecisive,” Blitz says.

  “Isn’t that him?” I ask.

  A wiry man in familiar rectangular glasses gets out of a car down the street. “I’ll flag him,” the driver says.

  We watch as they exchange a leather bag.

  Then the back door opens and the driver hands it to me. “I can escort you to the bathroom if you like.”

  “I really don’t want to be seen in this,” I say.

  “The windows are dark,” Blitz says. “Just leave us to it.”

  The driver shuts the door and discreetly walks half a block down.

  “You sure?” I ask. He’s right about the back windows, but the front window is clear.

  “I’m not going to let anyone get even the smallest look.” He turns and props himself between the two front seats, effectively blocking anyone’s view through the car from the windshield. “Except me, of course. I’m going to stare like a dying man.”

  “You’re terrible,” I say, unzipping the bag. Inside is a soft white short-sleeved sweater and my favorite Juicy Couture jeans. “Jerry is a miracle,” I say.

  “Your naked body is a miracle,” Blitz says. “Now let me see it.”

  I slip off a shoe and toss it at him. He laughs as he catches it.

  I’m not shy with Blitz, but we are in a car on an open street and I know what I’m wearing beneath this dress. That is to say, not much.

  The diamond cutouts mean no bra, just built-in padding, and only a tiny string thong, low slung to avoid cutting across the belly opening.

  I carefully lay out the clothes on the seat so I can grab them quickly.

  I get the dress up and over my face when it catches for a second on my hair. Blitz sucks in a breath. “Oh, if I dared to take a picture of this,” he says.

  “You learned your lesson on that,” I say, trying to pull the dress off, but several sequins have caught in my wild curls.

  “Hold on a second,” he says, and moves forward. More light comes from the windshield.

  “Stop!” I say. “People will see in!”

  Blitz moves back into position. “Then I’ll just stay here and enjoy the show.”

  My arms are still in the tight sleeves, the dress caught in my hair. Otherwise, I’m almost completely naked, only the whisper-thin straps of the thong leading to the smallest triangle of fabric imaginable.

  My fingers work to sort out where the worst of the tangle is between my hair and the sparkly bodice of the dress. I’m not particularly well endowed, but I’m jerking hard enough that my breasts sway a little as I try to get free.

  “God, I’m not going to be able to go out in public for a year with this hard-on,” Blitz says.

  “I’ve almost got it,” I say.

  “Take your time,” Blitz says.

  Finally, no doubt with a solid swath of my hair, the dress comes free. I toss the silly thing on the floor.

  “Oh, just like that, right there,” Blitz says. His eyes are on my body.

  “Blitz!” I frantically look out the side window. There’s no one on the street, thankfully, although I know the tint is dark enough for our privacy.

  “If we were in a limo, we would so not be going in for pie,” Blitz says. He reaches forward and slides his fingers along my collarbone, down a breast, and across my belly. For the barest second, he delves between my thighs.

  It’s intoxicating to have him sitting there, his hands on my body. Thousands of girls were dying to fling themselves at him all morning, but he’s here in this car with me.

  My heart races, the hot thudding between my legs impossible to ignore. I wonder what we could get away with in here, what I’m brave enough to do.

  Blitz senses my hesitation and raises his eyebrow as he says, “Three more seconds and my face is going to be between your legs.”

  For a list of all books and projects by JJ,

  click here for JJ Knight on Amazon.

  Thank you for reading!

  Love, JJ

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