If Ever(26)

"What?"

"It's almost 3 a.m."

"No way!" I reach for my bag. "I never stay out this late."

Tom stands and drops money on the table. "What time is your call?"

"Not till ten, thank God. What time is your flight?"

"I leave for the airport at seven thirty."

I cringe. "That's a bummer."

Tom leads us out of our private alcove. The bar is quiet with only a few people lingering. No one from the show remains. "I am so sorry," he says.

"It's not your fault. I should have kept better track of time." Except that I was having the best time ever.

Outside the air is cool. "I'll get us an Uber." When he's finished, he says, "It’ll be ten minutes."

It gives me a few more minutes with him before having to say goodbye. By the time ten minutes pass, I'm chilled to the bone even though my shoulder is pressed close to Tom's. My short-sleeve top is no protection against the October breeze. I shiver and he pulls me in front of him, wrapping his arms around me, his body tucked against mine.

I sigh at the instant warmth. "Thank you." I wrap my arms around his to offer some reciprocal warmth and grin. This night keeps getting better.

He leans his head close. "I'm always looking for an excuse to put my arms around a beautiful girl."

I laugh at his line, but it's been so long since a nice guy has given me compliments.

"I should have insisted we come outside earlier," he says.

"I bet you use these lines a lot in New York."

"Absolutely, I hang out in front my building waiting to warm any random women waiting for the bus."

"I should have known you're a player." But inside, I hope he's not. I'd like to part ways believing he's one of the good ones.

"Oh yeah, you should see me with the little old ladies. My apartment is next to a senior center. I'm quite popular with the grey-haired set."

A black car pulls up to the curb and rolls down the window. "Tom Oliver?"

"That's us." He releases me, and cool air moves in. He opens the car door, and I slide in. The driver heads to my apartment. There's so much I want to say, so much I want to wish for, but our time together is nearly over. Tom is quiet, but his thigh rests against my leg. Does he feel the connection too, or is he just a space hog?

"Here we are," the driver says outside my temporary home.

"I'm going to walk her to the door. I'll be right back." Tom steps out of the car and takes my hand.

We take our time to the door, putting off the moment we have to part. The cool night air makes me long for his arms again. I face him with my key in hand and take in the sight of this tall, handsome man before me. "I guess this is goodbye."

"If only tonight could have lasted for days." He smiles, and in that moment, I believe he speaks the truth.

"Have a safe flight tomorrow, and thank you again for everything. I'll never forget today."

He moves to leave then turns back. "Chelsea, I want you to know something. Your performance tonight was one of those special moments that doesn't happen very often. You can rehearse some songs or scenes a hundred times and never strike the magical chord you hit tonight. I don't know if it was the chemistry of everyone on stage, or just an organic moment, but it was special and something I'll always remember being a part of."

I look into his eyes, overwhelmed. "I don't know what to say."

He gives my hands a warm squeeze. "I'll be watching the show tomorrow, and if by some impossibility you're sent home, I'm going to write the producers a firmly worded letter."

"You do that." I laugh and before I realize what's happening, he kisses the corner of my mouth, as if he didn't want to get too personal, but still wanted that final connection.

"Good night, Chelsea," Tom says and disappears down the sidewalk.





9





"Chelsea, you in here?" Dominic's voice wakes me from a deep slumber.

"Yeah, I was just catching some quick shut eye." I sit up and shake myself awake trying to figure out how long I've been out. After I sat through hair and makeup, I was exhausted from my late night with Tom and needed a nap.

Dominic appears in the doorway. "I've got good news and bad news."

"Okay." I can't imagine what his news could be. I rub the sleep from my eyes, careful not to smudge my eye makeup.

"We were voted in for the encore dance!"

"No way!"

He grins. "We've got a slot in the schedule to run through a few things before dress rehearsal. You need to get to wardrobe."

"Oh my God this is so exciting. Wait. What about Tom? He flew back to New York."

“That’s the bad news. We'll have the studio band in his place. One more reason to hurry up so we can run through it."

I'm bummed that Tom is missing our encore and wish I'd asked for his number so I could share the good news. By now he should be at 30,000 feet jetting across the country. I rush to wardrobe and slip into my filmy white dress that floats like clouds when I dance.

My head is buzzing with every detail from last night—Tom's laughter, dancing in his arms, and sipping drinks into the early hours.