If Ever(59)

"You're thinking something similar to Sonya's costume from last year's finale?"

"Yeah, classy, but also with a bare back."

Mark holds up a couple sketches of past costumes. Each one is skimpy. One features rhinestones, another sparkling fringe, and the last tulle. "Something like these?"

"The middle one," Dominic says.

"Chelsea isn't going to like it. You remember how upset she was about the salsa costume showing so much skin," Kelly says.

I remember that costume. Damn she looked hot.

Dominic shakes his head. "I know, but this is the finals and she's up for whatever it takes to get votes. What do you think Tom? You've seen an early version of the dance. Will Chelsea approve?"

I picture her in any of the samples they showed. Her hot little bum will look amazing. My hand moves under my sweatshirt from her waist to cup her behind. Her change in breathing is the only indication she even notices I'm here. I grin. "She'll love it."

"Hear that? Chelsea votes yes. I was thinking make it silver and put me in a top hat and tails. She'll need a top hat for the opening sequence before tossing it away."

Dominic and the designers move on to the next two costumes, each with revealing aspects that would show off her long legs, her sexy backside, and more skin than she's flaunted all season. Whenever consulted, I heartily agree that's exactly how I want to see her. With the call concluded, he closes his laptop.

"How do you think she'll react when she sees her costumes?" I ask, glad I won't be there.

"I expect there will be quite a fire storm of hysterics, but she's risen to every challenge I've thrown at her so far. If I'm lucky, she won't find out until a last minute fitting on Monday."

The door opens and two guys enter, one carrying a camera on his shoulder. Dominic puts a finger to his lips for them to be quiet, then gestures with his hand to roll tape. "Think she'll like this surprise?" he whispers. "The producers have been going crazy with no promo footage of rehearsal, so they hired a local crew."

I look at my snoozing bundle and cringe on her behalf. She's warm and toasty against me. Somehow I think her waking up to a film crew won't be a welcome development. I whisper in her ear to give her fair warning. "Chelsea, a camera crew's here." Her breathing shifts, but she isn't awake. I run my fingertips over her back and shift my leg to rouse her. "Camera on you. Right now. She comes to, then bolts upright, pushing a mass of hair out of her eyes. "Where?"

I point across the room where the camera guy is focusing in on her. Dominic is bent over laughing. She pulls my sweatshirt over her head and dives into my chest. I'm definitely included in the frame.

"Dominic, I hate you," she yells.

"Aw come on, you're an easy target."

"On that note, it's time for me to go." I ease her off of me.

Her eyes are round saucers of innocence. "Please don't."

"I wish I could stay, but I've got to get to work." I'm desperate to kiss her, but not with the red light of the camera watching.

We get to our feet and she hands me my sweatshirt, smoothing down her mussed hair. As I put on all my layers to face the snowstorm, Chelsea pleads her case to Dominic.

"Let me go to his show tonight, please. We've been working all day, plus we have four days until the show."

"Sorry. Not tonight. We have an entire other number to block."

"Come on. I never ask you for anything," she pleads.

He cocks his head in disagreement.

"Fine, but we're here in the city. We should have some fun too."

Dominic drops his head, his hands resting on his hips. I can see he's choosing his words carefully. "Chelsea, do you remember when we started this thing all those weeks ago?"

She crosses her arms and snorts.

"You were afraid no one would take you seriously—that you'd never get a chance to get past week one or two because the audience didn't know you. Well guess what? The viewers have been paying attention. You've made it all the way to the finals. It doesn't matter how you got here, but you did."

The camera is focused on them, I've moved out of sight because this goes way deeper than Chelsea taking a night off.

She sticks her jaw out in stubborn defiance, but Dominic continues.

"The last thing viewers saw was us tripping over each other and screwing up like a couple of amateurs. Is that how you want to go out?"

She says nothing.

Dominic shrugs and throws up his arms. "Okay. We'll blow this off and party in the city. You made it to the finals. Who cares how we finish? Who cares that you have a one in three chance to win this whole thing? Who cares that I think we can do it?"

Her face is pink with embarrassment. I feel like a world-class jerk witnessing their battle of wills, but it's likely the whole country will see this footage Monday night.

"We only have tomorrow and Saturday to learn and polish all three numbers and half of tomorrow will be spent in the air. The ball's in your court. I'd love to call it quits and go grab a beer. It's up to you."

Chelsea doesn't say anything for the longest time. They're at a standoff, and yet he's allowing her to call the shots. Her eyes get watery. "I'm sorry."