If Ever(10)

Dominic smiles and says in his silky television tone, "Not at all, Julie. It's a lot of pressure to be on this show, and sometimes fatigue gets in the way."

She cocks her head. "You're saying that being tired has kept you from developing chemistry with your partner?"

It's all I can do not to cross my arms and hitch my hip. I'd love to tell her where she can shove that microphone.

"Chelsea's a terrific dancer and we hope to be here next week," he lies. I fight back my snort.

"Let's take a look at your scores and see."

The scores come in as all sixes and every last shred of self-confidence I had goes up in smoke. These scores are way worse than last week's sevens.

Her mic appears in my face again. "How do you feel about the scores?"

I raise my eyebrows. "Honestly, it's humiliating."

"There you have it," she trills into the camera. "If you want to see Chelsea and Dominic next week, they really need your help."

"That's an understatement," I mutter as we make our way back to the dance floor and line up with the rest of the cast for the final wave off as the summary reel of each team's dance plays.

"Did you really have to say that?" Dominic says through his teeth behind me.

"What did you want me to do, lie?"

"It's television, not a police interrogation."

"Sorry, but lying doesn't roll off my lips like it does for you." The finale ends and the house lights come up. People begin to mill out of their seats.

"What the hell does that mean?" Dominic asks, reigning in his anger. The producers direct the dancers to their spots for the media rounds.

"Don't insult me by playing dumb," I say as Hank walks up.

Dominic shakes his head. "I honestly have no idea what you're talking about."

"How about how you hate being saddled with a nobody like me. That you deserved an A lister and I should go back to the farm where I belong?"

He has the decency to cringe. "You weren't supposed to hear that."

"So don't look me in the eye and give me that load of bull. I'm sure I'll be out of here by tomorrow night and you can get on with your life." I spin on my heel to leave. "Sorry Hank. I'm not usually so rude."

"Nice to see you have some fireworks in you, Sparky," he says with a chuckle.

"Chelsea, we have post interviews," Dominic calls after me.

"Remember, I don't have a clue on how to talk to the media. You handle it." I storm off as gracefully as I can in my torturous heels.





The next day Dominic and I come to the unspoken agreement not to speak unless we absolutely have to. Our scores were the lowest of the night and I'm the least popular person on the show. We'll be booted off, and other than a red-eye flight to New York to make our walk of shame appearance on the national morning show, it'll be over.

I wander over to Hank's trailer to say my goodbyes. He's stretched out in his lawn chair holding court with his bottle of bourbon.

"There you are. I missed you last night at the party." He takes a tumbler and pours me a finger of amber liquid.

"I'd reached my quota of Celebrity Dance Off drama for one day." I take a seat on the steps to his trailer. I spent my night alone with a bottle of pre-mixed margaritas, a bag of tortilla chips, and a tub of guac.

"You must have a low tolerance because I usually hit it by noon." He tilts his head toward the ear-splitting rant from two trailers down. "Miss Capri is a difficult woman to satisfy. Yesterday it was the wrong flavor of vitamin water. I haven't ciphered out what today's hissy fit is about."

I sip the pungent liquid, letting the burn soothe my jumbled nerves. "I wish I had the guts to throw a temper tantrum. When I get the slightest bit frustrated, the cameras are all over me, making me look like a whiney child."

"Is that what's got you down?"

I swirl the bourbon in my plastic tumbler. The strong taste is growing on me. "Nah. I just wanted to stop by and say it's been nice getting to know you."

He nods, drumming his fingers on his lawn chair. "You know, it's possible it could be me tonight."

"No! You're the entertaining grandpa figure that everyone wishes they had."

"More like the crazy uncle everyone avoids at family gatherings." He winks. "You're much too nice a girl to get caught up with this bunch anyway. What'll you do when you go home?"

"That's a good question. I came here to jump start my life. Instead I think I just derailed it more. I don't want my old job back, and I have no idea what to do next." The idea of another job in a stuffy office with a bunch of conservative suits stifles my breathing.

"No handsome young fella to sweep you off your feet?" He studies me over the top of his bifocals.

"Nah. I'm not too lucky in love either."

"A pretty thing like you? If I were forty years younger, I'd take you for a spin around the dance floor myself."

I grin. "I bet you were a handful in your twenties."

"And a half," he chuckles with a mischievous glint in his eye.





When we line up backstage for the results show, Candace Capri is arguing with the head producer. The show starts and she's still deep in meltdown mania with her arms flapping and voice raised. The show goes on and as predicted Dominic and I are in the bottom three. He clips me a resigned nod. Hank isn't in the reject group with us. Instead it's Haley, the model, and Dalton, the body builder.