If Ever(38)

"You and Dominic knocked it out of the park. You aren't going anywhere yet."

"Go figure. Just when I'm ready to get voted off, the judges finally decide they like me."

He grins, showing off his dimples. The warmth in his eyes makes me hope this is real. I think it is, but I've been wrong before.

Dominic appears with a beer. I snatch my hand away from Tom. "Aren't you the antisocial one," he teases, sliding in beside me.

My mouth drops open to comment, but then I realize he's just goading me, so I wrinkle my nose at him. "Just trying to escape and enjoy my margarita before you force me back into rehearsal."

"Good point." He helps himself to the chips and salsa.

"That dance tonight was genius," Tom says of Dominic's innovative choreography.

"Thanks. I think the judges are finally cutting us a break. They've been brutal all season."

"That's because they were never in favor of the America's chance to dance idea," I explain.

"I don't know about that," Tom says. Under the table his foot finds mine.

"So you were in town for a meeting. A new project?" Dominic asks.

I focus on the salsa dish.

"Yeah, and it looks promising." Tom smirks.

Dominic's phone rings. "Sorry, I gotta take this." He dips out of the booth.

Tom and I smile at each other. I could do this all night. Just look at him with his blond hair pushed to the side, the quirky way he smiles when he wants to say something, but holds back, and the twinkle in his eyes when I say something that makes him laugh.

"Are you ready to order?" the waitress appears out of nowhere.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I haven't even looked at the menu." I pick it up and quickly scan the choices.

"I can come back," she offers.

"No, that's okay. I'll take the chicken fajitas with extra veggies, and skip the tortillas and sour cream," Tom says.

"Um, I'll have the chicken enchiladas," I say as it's the first item that catches my eye.

"Got it." She collects our menus and disappears.

"No sour cream? That's the best part." I dip another chip into the guacamole.

"Agreed."

"Are you on a diet?" Which must be impossible, because he's as lean and fit as the pro dancers on the show.

He drinks his gin and tonic. "I'd rather call it a life choice, but it's really more a necessity. I don't want to embarrass myself when I appear on stage with no shirt."

I lean in. "I'm intrigued. Tell me more."

He smiles. "First time during a fight scene, the other is a love scene."

Wow. Now I'm picturing him with another woman and not sure how I feel about it. I've got to see this show of his. "What exactly are you wearing during this love scene?"

"Boxers."

"Really?" I can't imagine him on a huge stage strutting around in his underwear. His face turns a rosy shade of pink. "Oh my God, Mister Broadway is shy."

He shakes his head and laughs, "It's my job. Nothing more."

"Uh huh. I bet you secretly love it."

"Trust me, my pasty white British body needs a lot of time in the gym to be passable on stage." He squirms in his seat.

"Look at how uncomfortable you are. I like this side of you."

"Are you talking about me again?" Hank appears with a tumbler of bourbon.

I blurt out a laugh. "No. Tom was just admitting to performing on stage in nothing more than a pair of boxers." Tom shakes his head, probably wishing he never said anything.

"I'm more of a briefs man myself. Either way that sounds a bit chilly." Hank scoots in next to me. "Back in the day, I had a body that women clamored for."

"Is that right?" I hold back my laughter. It's hard to imagine Hank's belly ever being anything but rotund.

"No, but I always wished I did." Hank slaps the table and laughs then breaks out in a smoker's cough. When he's recovered he says, "So, Tom, having a good time in L.A.?"

"Thanks. I am, but I fly out tonight."

Hank, aghast, looks from Tom, to me, and back again. "That's just horse hockey. How the hell are you going to woo the girl, if you're flying off all the time?"

Tom laughs, and it's my turn to hide my face in embarrassment.

"Aw, relax, Sweetheart. He looks like a bright enough fella to figure it out. But let me tell you. These long distance things almost never work out. Someone's going to have make a change." He stares my direction.

"Why are you looking at me?"

"Honey, he's the one with the prospects. You can't expect him to give up everything to chase after you when you're stuck dancing with a bunch of odd ducks like me."

I pat his hand. "Hank, you might be an odd duck, but out of the whole flock, you're my favorite."

"Yeah, yeah, joke all you want, but I've been around long enough to know how these things work. You need to get yourself off to New York, or he'll find some other cute little piece of tail and forget all about you."

Tom and I burst out laughing. "Aren't you glad you made the trip?" I say.

"This is much more entertaining than a night in New York."