Free Ice Games by Jessica Clare Page B

back by accident.
    A waiter passed by with glasses of champagne, and I snagged one. God, I needed a drink. I was nervous as hell.
    Ty just as quickly took it back out of my hand again, and set it down on a nearby table. “You haven’t exactly shown me that you can hold your alcohol,” he murmured into my ear.
    I started to get annoyed…and then realized he had a point. Drinking was probably bad the night before a performance, too. “You’re right. It might mess up my juju.”
    He laughed, shaking his head at me. “Heaven forbid we mess up the juju.”
    “You laugh, but the juju’s important,” I chastised him.
    “I’m sure it is,” he said, giving me a warm look. His thumb stroked the small of my back again, and I was pretty sure that time it wasn’t an accident. “I’m thinking a lot of things are important that I didn’t notice before.”
    “Oh? Like what?” I tilted my head, regarding him. A curl of my hair slid over my shoulder, and I noticed Ty’s gaze follow it.
    An electric current ran through my skin, tingling with awareness.
    “Ty! Ty, honey, come over here!” A female voice cooed, interrupting our intimate conversation. I looked over, and Annamarie was waving at Ty, trying to beckon him over to a group of her friends. All dressed in long, slinky gowns, all clearly models. Ugh.
    And here I was, skinny Zara Pritchard, thinking I was having a moment with sexy, brawny Ty Randall. I was clearly dreaming.
    I stepped out of his protective embrace and gestured. “You should go see what they want.”
    He glanced at them, and then at me. “I’ll be right back.”
    “I’ll be here,” I said with a twirl of my finger. I crossed my arms over my chest and sat down on a stool at the nearby bar, waiting. I tried not to focus too much on how lovely Annamarie’s group was, but it was impossible not to notice. She and her friends immediately pulled Ty in to their group, and the conversation flew at a lively pace. Annamarie would throw her head back and laugh and lean a little closer to Ty, nudging him with her arm.
    Ugh. Wasn’t she supposed to be sleeping with her own partner already? Why go after mine? I crossed my legs, and my foot swung over and over again in a nervous flick.
    “Hello again,” said a voice, and a big body slid into the stool next to mine.
    I looked over in surprise. Serge. Speaking of Annamarie’s partner… “Hi Serge. Long time no see.”
    “It has been quite a long time. Two weeks, perhaps?” He gave me a smile that was supposed to be sexy, I guessed, but his shaggy, too-long blond hair screamed 70s Eurotrash—as did his beaky nose—and it was hard to take him seriously.
    “I meant in competition. What’s it been, since 2002 Nationals?”
    He gave me a pitying smile. “Oh, little Zara. This isn’t a real competition. You realize this, yes? This is just a TV show we do for cash and notoriety. It is like an endorsement deal. You sell yourself for money, and try not to feel dirty about it afterward.” He gave me a superior look down his long eagle-nose. “But I guess you would not know about that, would you?”
    Oh, so that was what this conversation was about. Time to psych out the competition? Fine then. “No, I guess I wouldn’t.” I gave him a polite smile. “So how are those hemorrhoid ads working out for you?”
    Serge actually advertised a muscle cream over in Europe, but as jokes went, it was close enough to offend. He glared at me. “I do not advertise for hemorrhoids.”
    “No? I thought I heard that. Oh, that’s right.” I snapped my fingers. “I heard that you were working hard on getting the herpes market cornered. My bad.” I leaned in. “I’d tell you that you might wanna warn Annamarie about that, but it looks like she’s currently sinking her hooks into my partner. Sorry.”
    He got up from his seat. “You are still an unpleasant little girl, I see. I came over to give you some friendly advice, and you have been nothing but rude.”
    I kept