If Ever(51)

"A month or so." I answer with a straight face.

"No kidding? I've been wondering why you're so blasted happy," Ryan says.

Chelsea turns and stares at me in disbelief. Her hair is totally mussed and looks like we've been through ten rounds of bedroom gymnastics.

"Chelsea, this is Justin, Paul and Ryan. Guys, this is Chelsea."

Her shocked eyes search mine, and I suddenly realize her concern at being half dressed in front of a bunch of strange guys, so I put her at ease. "Don't worry they're all gay."

"I'm not gay," says Paul, cracking open his beer.

"Sure you are," says Ryan, his hair slicked back from a recent shower.

"Justin is about to leave on tour, and Ryan is trying to find a job," I explain.

"I have a job, just not the right job," Ryan says.

"He's a cater waiter for the beautiful people," Paul volunteers with a smirk.

"Paul's girlfriend threw him out again." Justin strums the guitar.

"See! I'm not gay." Paul says.

"But everyone thinks you're gay," says Ryan.

"Nice to meet you," Chelsea says politely.

"And nice to see Tom with a girl,” Ryan says. “We were starting to worry he'd never find another woman willing to put up with his eccentricities. You see, the poor guy's been alone since—

"Ignore them.” I interrupt before he regales her with the sordid details of my last failed relationship. Chelsea glances at me with raised eyebrows.

“The bathroom's there." I point to the open door. Chelsea smiles weakly and disappears, locking the door behind her.

Justin says, "You actually found a girl who'd come home with you?"

"She likes me," I say puffing out my chest.

"Not any more!" Chelsea hollers through the closed door, and the guys burst into laughter.





17





Times Square is lit up brighter than the Celebrity Dance Off ballroom as our cab crawls to the theatre in bumper-to-bumper traffic.

“Hey, check it out!” Dominic points to a three-story high billboard of Tom's show, Crossing Lines.

I gawk at his familiar silhouette filling the side of a building. “I had no idea.” My eyes trail the sign as the cab rolls by more billboards, ticker-type news reels, and souvenir shops before turning. There are brightly lit theatre marquees on every block. We pass Hamilton, Wicked and numerous other shows before arriving at the theatre for Crossing Lines.

The cab pulls up and I let Dominic pay the fare. The show is paying our expenses for two days in New York and then I’m on my own. We’re needed back for the finale rehearsal on Saturday, but Dominic and I both agreed we wanted a couple extra days to enjoy New York.

We step onto the sidewalk into a crush of theatregoers bustling up and down both sides of the street with anticipation. Taxis and town cars drop off more ticket holders. We take a selfie in front of the marquee with Dominic looking his normal amazing self, and me grinning like an idiot. I don't care. Who would have guessed that the first Broadway show I see, the leading man is actually my friend? Date? Boyfriend? I'm not really sure I can call him that yet, but he's certainly more than a friend.

After texting the photo to Tom, so he knows we made it, we find the Will-Call line. I give them my name, and sure enough, the ticket agent hands me an envelope with two tickets. I wave them at Dominic and squeal.

A woman interrupts my euphoria. “Excuse me. You’re Dominic and Chelsea from Celebrity Dance Off? Could I get a picture?”

Dominic shifts into performance mode. “Of course.” We quickly pose with her standing between us as her husband takes the picture.

“Can I get one with just Dominic?” She asks all gooey eyed. I quickly step away, a little embarrassed that I stood in the first shot when he’s the one she’s really interested in. “Thank you, so much!” she effuses to Dominic after her hubby snaps another shot. And as we’re walking away, I hear her say, “I can’t believe I just met Dominic Yardley.”

I laugh. “See, it’s you the viewers were voting for all this time.”

Inside, we follow a grand staircase, and an usher leads us to first row balcony seats. I stare at the grand stage. The massive curtain is lit with the logo of the show. I soak in the ornate decor of the opulent old theater. There are gorgeous frescos on the ceiling, gilded box seats, and glittering chandeliers. I open the program and see Tom's picture, the first one at the top of the page. I elbow Dominic and grin.

The lights dim and the audience goes quiet as the overture begins. It's a relief to watch a show, versus having to dance in one, but my nerves are still as jumpy as if I were performing. I wonder how Tom is. What is he doing at this moment? Is he right behind the curtains? Or in the wings? What's he wearing? I know so little about this show, just that one song I saw on the Tony awards.

The curtain rises, and I grab Dominic’s arm. The stage lights come up, and the opening number begins. I search the stage, but can't spot him. It's a big group number with colorful costumes, and a rousing song. Just as it ends, Tom makes his entrance and my stomach flips. He's playing a younger man and it shows in the way he walks and acts. I'm surprised when he speaks his first lines with an American accent, but it sounds perfectly normal, and the rest of the world falls away, as I'm mesmerized by this new side of him.