If Ever(37)

"I am not famous. I've done some TV and theater in England. I've been in a couple of Broadway shows. That's it."

"Excuse me. You've been the lead in a couple of Tony winning Broadway shows."

"And when the show closes, I'm unemployed again. And you are not a nobody."

She shrugs. "I'm still getting over the shock that you're here. I'll be in New York maybe even later this week."

"I couldn't wait. I don't know how else to explain it."

She looks at me sideways. "Are you sure no one's put you up to this?"

"Positive." I laugh and move closer, slipping my arms around her midsection, letting one hand settle on the curve of her bare back, the other I slide up to her neck. My lips cover hers and her breath quickens. My fingers play with the loose hairs at her nape. After a long glorious minute I reluctantly pull away. "Now do you believe me?"

Chelsea gazes up at me and whispers, "Yes."

I stand to put some distance between us. Her kisses are working way too well. I grab the champagne bottle. "More?"

"Definitely."

I top off our glasses and take a seat, leaving ample space between us for the moment. "How much time before you have to report back?"

"An hour, maybe longer. Can I see you after the show?" She places her hand on my arm. Her touch is like a caress.

"You can count on it."

She tells me about their dance and Dominic's perfectionism and I tell her about forgetting a verse of a song yesterday because I couldn't keep my head in the show. My hands find their way to her hair and eventually her lips. Her kisses make it impossible to think about anything else. We're lost in an epic make out session when there's a knock at the door.

"Ten minutes, Chelsea."

We force ourselves apart. Her lips are swollen and face flushed. "Thanks." She calls out, then stands and straightens her disheveled costume. A sweet blush colors her cheeks again.

I rise and join her. "I can't wait to see your dance." I glide my fingers along her shoulder, down her arm, and kiss her. The door pops opens.

"Chelsea?" Dominic appears.

We jump apart.

"Whoa! Sorry," Dominic says.

"Tom was in town on business and stopped by."

"Hey, man. Good to see you." He grins. "Now I understand why she’s been hiding in her trailer again."

I struggle to keep a straight face as Dominic looks from one of us to the other and then spots the nearly empty champagne bottle.

"Have you been drinking?" he asks her, hands on his hips.

"Only two glasses." She smiles then covers her mouth with her fingers as if she shouldn't have confessed.

He shakes his head.

"You're the one who told me to save it for someone special," she sputters.

"I wasn't going to let her have any more," I say.

"Have you eaten anything since lunch?" He frowns.

"I ran out of time. But on the bright side, I'm not nervous."

Dominic shakes his head. "Yeah, I bet you're not. Come on slugger, we've gotta get going. Tom, I'll catch you later?"

"You bet."

Dominic nods and leads Chelsea away. "Having fun?" He asks her, while I can still hear them.

Chelsea nods. "Tom likes me."

He laughs and puts his arm around her shoulder. "Yeah, I got that."





*

While Dominic and I wait to dance, I spy Tom and sneak a wave.

"Like what you see?" Dominic blurts from behind me.

I jump and spin around, trying to act nonchalant.

"Please focus, just for the next two minutes."

"What? I'm focused."

Dominic shakes his head. I know he's frustrated with me, but I'm fine. In fact, I'm great. I want to revel in the glow of having Tom here, but I realize Dominic's right. I take a breath. Our dance is playful and set to a catchy tune. But it's also tricky with a couple of lifts and stunts. I focus and take my place next to Dominic.

He smiles. "You've got this. Just relax and have fun."

The music starts and we take off in the light-hearted number where I, as the genie, am trying to fool my master. It's polar opposite of the angsty, emotional dance from last week.

As we cover the dance floor, I think of Tom. He's here, for me. I don't miss a beat. In fact, I think his presence fuels my performance. When we finish, a rousing round of applause greets us along with high praise from the judges, but I pay little attention as my eyes find Tom. He's on his feet clapping, and I beam back at him.

When the show is over, I meet him as the crowd files out.

"You were adorable." He hugs me and I'm no longer shy about trotting around in my skimpy costume.

Later, after the interviews are over, we're tucked into a booth at a quaint Mexican restaurant, this week's post show after-glow locale. "How much time before you have to go?"

"Just shy of two hours."

The low restaurant lights cast a warm glow off the burnt orange walls. A candle flickers on the table. "I wish you could stay longer."

His hand covers mine. "So do I."

"Maybe I'll be voted off tomorrow night and I'll meet you in New York," I say. I don't want to get sent home, but I can't bear being away from Tom either. He caresses the back of my hand. If only we had more privacy, more time, and just... more.