If Ever(22)

Dominic kisses my temple and keeps his arm around me, which is good because I'm barely conscious of what's going on around me. After the comments, he leads us to the skybox for the scoring, and murmurs support in my ear as I shake off my emotional fog.

Julie Mason gives a shout out to Thomas Evan Oliver for his phenomenal performance. The scores come in. We get tens from every judge.

"I think they got it wrong, you better have them double check," I say.

She laughs along with the rest of the contestants. Dominic swings me around as reality seeps back in. We did it.

The rest of the show flies by. After the taping we're completing the post show interviews, and for the first time we have a long line of media. When it's over, Tom finds us.

"Congratulations." He wraps me in a hug and I like how his arms feel holding me and notice how good he smells. "After seeing you so nervous, I wasn't sure you could pull off that performance, but you were brilliant. Absolutely brilliant."

"Thanks." I smile. "We couldn't have done it without you." We pose for pictures, some with all three of us and a couple where Dominic steps out and it’s just me and Tom. Our attention is pulled away by a producer and afterwards I realize Tom has left.

"Dominic, we forgot to invite him to the party. Oh my God, that was so rude. What do we do?" I desperately want him there.

"Don't worry. I'll make sure he knows."





8





The press attention causes Dominic and I to arrive late to the post show party. We enter the restaurant to cheers from the cast for our perfect tens. I'm touched. The lights are low and the music pumping. Whatever's being served smells delicious.

As the group turns back to their conversations, I spot Tom smiling at me from across the room. I wave. Cassie, the redheaded pro dancer is leaning in, she touches his arm to draw his attention back to her. When Tom excuses himself, Cassie frowns.

He joins me, looking great in a pair of jeans and a button down shirt. "Thanks for the invite. You were absolutely smashing."

"I'm so glad you made it," I say, suddenly nervous.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

"I'm pretty sure they're already paid for by the show."

Tom laughs. "Yes, I know."

"Oh. Right." We wander to the bar and I order a rum and Coke.

He leans his elbow on the bar as we wait. "So how did you find my song?"

"A friend from college spent a semester abroad in England and watched the show you were on. She showed me on YouTube."

The bartender hands me my drink, and Tom leads us to a highboy. "It goes to show, you never know how one opportunity leads to another."

His accent is mesmerizing with its romantic lilt and I could stay lost in it forever. "I also saw your performance on the Tony awards."

"Yeah?"

"You were amazing. I can't imagine how you could stand up there by yourself, knowing you're in front of millions of people."

"I couldn't sleep the night before." He laughs. "But it's no different than you getting out there every week on national TV."

"At least I'm not alone. I have Dominic to make sure I don't mess up too bad." But Tom's right. I am performing in front of millions, and yet I don't feel like the world is watching, only the people in the ballroom and that's bad enough.

"Well, thank you for bringing me out here. As long as we're making confessions, you should know that I've been watching Celebrity Dance Off all season."

"Really?"

"One of my cast mates loves the show, and because Celebrity Dance Off airs on Monday nights, I'm free to watch. We always tune in on Tuesdays during intermission to see who's voted off."

"That's so weird that professional performers would want to watch a show about amateurs."

"Are you kidding? Live performances, amazing choreography, watching some schlepp with two left feet try to dance each week."

"Yeah, that's me."

"Not even close. I will admit though that at the beginning I didn't think you had a chance." He winces.

"You and ten million other viewers." I laugh.

"It made me root for you." He touches my hand. I smile. "You were the underdog, the unknown, and I know how intimidating this must have been for you."

"It still is!"

"Well, you've shown them all tonight." He raises his drink and we touch glasses. "You deserved every one of those tens."

A new song plays and several of the dancers from the show spin onto the dance floor. I'm not sure if they're doing a rumba or a samba. Tom's hand appears in front of me. I stare at him.

His smile is warm and casual. "Want to dance?"

"Uh, I don't know." I utter. "I'm no good next to them."

"That's crazy talk. You just scored perfect tens."

Stepping back, I say, "I'm serious. I can't dance unless I've been given steps and a week of rehearsals." Talking with him is more than enough to make my night. I don’t need to ruin it by dancing poorly.

"Me, either." He gestures to the dance floor.

I take a sip of my rum and Coke, and we step onto the dance floor with his hand at the small of my back. The song is upbeat. But he swings me into his arms, guiding me around the dance floor. Surprisingly, I'm able to follow his lead. I guess all these weeks of dancing has paid off.