If Ever(36)

At that moment I'm reminded of the people who have let her down in life.

Her smile vanishes. "Oh God, that sounded so desperate. I just don't know anyone here. My friends are all back in Iowa. If you can't, it's fine."

She's flustered and her vulnerability warms my heart. I take her hand. "I'd love to come."

A faint blush covers her cheeks. The studio door opens, a frazzled crew member pops his head out, and his panic disappears when he spots Chelsea. "Chelsea, we need you!"

"Sorry. I'm coming." She turns to me. "I've gotta go, but I'm in trailer 46. It's in the last row. The door's unlocked. I'll be back as soon as I can."

She flies off in her little harem number, and I practically skip my way to her trailer.

I venture inside like a voyeur on a reconnaissance mission. There's a gym bag on the sofa along with a pile of clothes she must have been wearing before she slipped into her skimpy costume. The dressing table is littered with cosmetics, Tic Tacs, a hairbrush, and her phone. On the table is an open bag of Cheetos, two bananas, and a container of applesauce. But what catches my eye is a framed picture of Chelsea and me taken after the performance. She's glowing after scoring perfect tens. Her arm clutches my waist and mine hers. What a perfect moment.

There's a pile of magazines lying open. I realize they all feature pictures of the show, of her and Dominic. She's collecting the media. I read through a few articles. Some of the comments are harsh, which irritates me, but a couple report her as the dark horse coming from behind. Damn straight she is.

The door opens and Chelsea appears. I set down the magazines. "There's the harem girl."

Chelsea smiles and removes the veil, revealing her lovely face. "Sorry it took so long." She spots the magazines all open to her picture. She snatches them up, shoves them in a drawer, and leans against it.

"You don't have to hide those. They're great."

"I've been collecting them. It's dumb."

"No it's not. My mum collects all my press. She's always bugging me to save articles and photos. I have a drawer just like that at home." Then I remember Chelsea lost her mum, and I feel like a total shit. But she takes a breath and seems to relax a bit.

"Your shiner is gone." I gently touch her cheek.

"There’s still some faint yellowing, but my makeup wizard fixed it. Would you like something to drink?" She kneels next to the fridge and opens the door. "Let's see. I have a lot of bottled water, a couple of Red Bulls, a carton of chocolate milk, part of a six-pack of beer, and a bottle of champagne."

I join her peering in the fridge. "That's a random collection."

"Hank dropped by with the beer one night and left it here. The champagne is from after we got our perfect tens, and I used to love chocolate milk so nabbed some from the craft service table."

"What are you saving the champagne for?"

She shrugs and turns toward me, our faces only a few inches apart. "Someone to share it with. I could never drink the whole thing by myself."

"I'm a someone."

Her eyes flash. "Yes, you are."

I reach past her. "Let's crack this baby and celebrate your tens." I open the bottle to a loud pop. Chelsea pulls out two plastic tumblers and grins as I pour the bubbly. "Do you realize how out of character I feel next to you? I need to be wearing a sheik costume or something."

We raise our glasses. "Here's to the harem girl and another great night on Celebrity Dance Off." We click them in the air.

Chelsea takes her first sip and sighs, the simplest of things make her happy. All of the sudden she sneezes.

"Bless you," I say.

"Sorry. I'm not used to bubbles," she laughs.

"I noticed your picture." I gesture to the frame as we take a seat.

"Dominic gave that to me. He knew how much..." she hesitates. "Well, he knew I'd like it." She blushes behind her glass.

"And why don't I have a copy?"

"Do you want one?"

I set her half empty glass down with mine, tilt her face up, and kiss her glossy pink lips. "Yes, I want one." She tastes of cool champagne. I drag her into my arms and kiss her again. She's all silky skin and sequins.

When we come up for air, she's angled herself toward me, the slit in her pants revealing a long, slender leg. When she sees where my eyes have landed, she tugs the sheer fabric to cover herself.

"I'm sorry. I'm not allowed to change until after the show tonight. It takes a team of union professionals to get me dressed."

I grin wishing I were one of them. She tops off our champagne, clearly unsure what to say. So I decide to come clean. "I didn't have a meeting in L.A."

She startles and sets the bottle down. "Then why are you here?"

I cock my head at her and smile.

"Me?" she asks in disbelief.

I take her hand. "I can't get you out of my mind. Trust me, my life would be much easier if I could. I've had a helluva time concentrating on work."

Her mouth drops open. "Seriously? You could have someone far more interesting."

I'm taken aback. "You crazy girl. What are you talking about?"

"You're successful and famous. Everyone loves you. I'm nobody." She makes air quotes.