If Ever(18)

I blurt, "I'm a huge fan!"

His hand is warm and firm. I'm meeting the actual guy who sang “Stay” on that old TV show, and now he's here.

"I'm a big fan of your show too," he says with a British accent and an endearing smile.

Glancing at Dominic, I mouth, oh my God! He grins.

"Tom's starring in the show Crossing Lines on Broadway and we didn't know we'd be able to get him until the last minute," Larry says. "Lucky for us, he's agreed to sing the track for your dance tonight. Tom, if there's anything you need, just let me or one of the assistants know."

"Thanks, Larry." Tom turns to us as the producer leaves. "Thanks for inviting me to your show. I was surprised when I got the call."

I'm fixated by the sound of his accent. The way he pronounces his words is like a gorgeous melody. He's so friendly and at ease, while my heart is ricocheting out of my chest.

"We're honored to have you," Dominic says, leaning against the piano.

"I recorded "Stay" for a TV show quite a while back. I had to dig deep in my memory banks and dust it off," Tom laughs.

I'm officially in love with his voice and he hasn't even sung yet.

"When I asked Chelsea to select a song that had significance to her, she knew right away that it was "Stay,"" Dominic explains.

Tom directs his attention to me. "Then I guess all my thanks go to you."

He smiles and something about the curve of his mouth and the light in his eyes makes my insides all jittery. I'm tongue tied and not sure what to say, but Dominic saves me.

"We're on a tight schedule, so we should probably get started."

"Right, then." Tom takes a seat behind the piano, flexes and wiggles his fingers. "Do you have a tempo in mind?"

Dominic gives him the tempo and turns to me. "Chelsea, we'll just mark it the first time to see where we have tempo issues."

We move to our spots on the main floor. Tom takes his cue from Dominic and plays the intro. I can't believe the actual, live and in person, Thomas Evan Oliver is only a few feet away and performing the anthem of my life. He begins to sing, and rich, full tones fill the room. I look at Dominic and my mouth drops open. Dominic is equally impressed and has to nudge me to remember what I'm supposed to be doing.

We mark through the number, including the lifts, and stop right before the final leap from the raised stage, mostly because it takes a lot of energy and it's easier to skip it. Dominic confers with Tom on tempo. "Let's try it again. Chelsea, this time let's go full out."

I nod.

Tom plays again. The tempo begins slow, and I focus on the dance. We get to the first lift and I give it my all so Dominic doesn't have to work harder than necessary to hoist me over his head. It's exhilarating to spin up high in the air, and then in one fluid motion, he pushes me away, and I land on my feet.

The tempo builds and I try to lose myself in the dance, but something isn't right. I can't get into it and misstep, Dominic puts his hand up for Tom to stop. "What's wrong?" Dominic asks.

"I don't know. I can't get into the feel of it." All eyes are on me, from Tom behind the piano, to the cameras guys observing our rehearsal, to Dominic who has become adept at reading my emotions.

"You've been fine all week. What's different now?" he asks.

"I'm sorry. Let's try it again." I take my starting spot and try to brush off the vibe.

"Is it having Tom here?" Dominic says under his breath with a shit eatin' grin, aware that this stranger affects me.

I glance up, and Tom is pretending to examine the lighting tresses. "Yeah, actually, it is. He's not singing it the same as the recording we've rehearsed to."

Dominic stares at me like I'm out of my mind. "Are you saying you'd rather use a taped version instead of it being performed live by the original artist?"

"No! It's just that he needs to sing it with more emotion."

Tom laughs. "I'm right here. You can tell me what you need."

My face burns with embarrassment, but I really want this dance to be right. We join him at the piano. He looks at me expectantly.

"You're amazing. You really are," I exclaim.

He's fighting back a smile. "Thank you, but..." he draws out the word and pauses.

Here I am, Miss Midwest nobody, about to give him singing tips. "But, there's not enough... you know." I use my hands for emphasis.

His brow furrows. "I'm not sure I do."

"You're singing like we're at a concert or something. It needs more... more..." I struggle to find the right words, so I swing my arms some more. "Oomph."

He nods, his expression serious. "More oomph."

Dominic snickers, but Tom doesn't even twitch. He just waits for my explanation.

I look to the heavens, wishing I knew how to express myself. "I'm sorry. I don't know the lingo. And I shouldn't be telling you what to do." I wring my hands and my eyes dart from Tom, to the piano, to the dance floor, and back to him. "You're the professional and you obviously know more than me, and here I am telling you what to do when I don't really have a clue anyway."

I'm babbling, and I can't stop myself, and Thomas Evan Oliver is staring in fascination like I'm a trick dog doing back flips. But instead of shutting my mouth, I speed up.