The crowd booed. Wait. He was talking about Luc?
“—and I fear that Bailey has done her best, but I’m afraid there’ll be no more crafting anything from poor Luc.”
Bailey hung her head.
“I’m really sorry, Bails.”
She nodded, lifting her chin.
Jenna shoved the microphone in their faces. “Have you got anything you’d like to say, Luc?”
He glanced at Bailey. He could tell from the way her smile had no sparkle that she was really disappointed. But it didn’t have to be the end. They might be receiving low scores, but there was still the public vote to try and win over.
He picked up Bailey’s hand and kissed it. She froze, as if wondering what he was doing. He might be wondering that himself, too, but right now, although he might be going rogue, this felt like the moment to try and win the public support. And if his abs couldn’t do it, then he’d do whatever else it took. “I’m pretty sure everybody knows that the fact I’m standing up here at all is all due to Bailey’s hard work. She’s a rock star, and I love dancing with her, and I’d love the chance to dance one more time. At least to leave you all with a better impression than what I gave tonight.”
“Are you saying you’ve got more moves left in the tank?”
He slapped his chest twice and pointed as he looked straight down the camera. “I’ve got more moves. And I’d love your vote to show you what I’ve got.”
“That sounds like a plea to stay,” Jenna said, to the crowd’s cheers. “Well, if you want to see Luc shake that thing with Bailey one more time, viewers you know what you have to do. So when the lines open, make sure you’re voting. Okay, let’s give it up one more time for Luc Blanchard and Bailey Donovan.”
He smiled, waved, and walked off, clutching Bailey’s hand as they moved up the stairs to the skybox. She let go, readjusting her top, retying her spangled straps around her neck. “Bails, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to grab you there.”
“Like I said back in week one, stuff happens.”
But it shouldn’t have happened like that. Not on national TV. He could bet what her father would say. He’d likely want to get a gun and shoot him. As for what his teammates would be saying, what they would say as soon as he faced them after this… He’d had a few show up unexpectedly tonight. Which was awesome. Not.
They now had to join Peter in the skybox, and he and Bailey pasted on instant grins.
“Luc and Bailey, not the performance you were hoping for, especially when you’re so close to finals now.”
Luc bent closer to Peter’s microphone. “You’re right. I’d hate to miss the finals because I messed up. Bailey is amazing, and I’d love you all to see what she’s got planned for me for next week’s dance.”
“Two dances next week, if you get there of course.”
Two? Bailey hadn’t said anything. He glanced at her quickly. Judging from her expression that she quickly smoothed into a smile, maybe she hadn’t known.
“Alright, well. We’ve heard the judges’ comments. Now it’s time to get their scores.”
He wrapped his arm around her, hugging her close.
“Five.”
“Four.”
“Three.”
“Thunderbirds are go,” he muttered. As would he be. Going, that was.
“Well,” Jenna said from down on the dance floor, “that gives a final total of twelve, which puts Luc at the bottom of the leaderboard with only one couple to go.”
He hugged her. “I’m really sorry, Bails.”
She shook her head, as Peter commiserated. “It’s okay.”
No, it wasn’t. As the camera cut to the break he flashed open his shirt a little more and winked. Cynthia had seemed to like his open shirt. Man, he was shallow.
“You can stop doing that,” Bailey murmured.
“What? I’m trying to get the votes.”
She looked defeated.
“Bails?”
She descended the stairs to get a drink of water. “Look, I’m sorry the choreography was too hard.”
“It wasn’t that. It was just a little too sexy.” For him to keep things platonic and professional, that is.
She glanced up at him. “I’m really sorry.”
“It wasn’t you. Well, I suppose it was your choreography, but you were just following what the producers wanted, right?”
She nodded. “My dad won’t be happy.”
Luc winced. No, he wouldn’t. He bet from some angles it might’ve even looked like Luc had grabbed Bailey’s chest. Which he hadn’t. Just the top of her top when he’d missed the catch. After he’d accidentally snapped her strap and sent it whipping away. At least he’d still caught her at the end, and she hadn’t kissed the floor.
She sighed.
