If Ever(68)

"With that stellar sales pitch, I'll try the red." I check out the view from the living room window while Tom clinks bottles and glasses in the kitchen. The shops below are closed, but the city is dotted with lights as far as I can see. When Tom hands me the wine glass, his fingers brush mine. "Thank you. The city is beautiful at night."

"Yes, it is." He gazes at me, the glitter of lights reflect off his eyes.

We relax on the couch, comfortable sharing the same space. The wine tastes of berries and is velvety smooth. "Definitely not vinegar."

"Good. I was hoping to impress you." He sips his gin and tonic.

"If you're trying to do it with wine, it's not hard. I'm perfectly happy with Three-Buck Chuck. However, tonight at your show, you blew my mind again. How do you perform like that night after night?"

He shrugs as if it's no big deal and swirls his drink. His other arm is draped over the back of the couch behind me.

"I'm serious. You should see how hard it was for me to get through that rumba with Ivan. You transform into this other person."

"And you were spectacular with Ivan. So much that I was ready to fly out there and throw down the glove.”

Clearly he doesn't want to talk about his incredible talent, but I want to know more. "When did you start performing?"

He kicks off his shoes and puts his feet on the coffee table, showing off blue and yellow-checkered socks that make me smile.

"I started in middle school. My mum never knew what to do with all my energy."

I love how he says Mum instead of Mom.

"I was a hell raiser, always climbing onto roofs, sneaking into locked buildings, and basically pushing the limits of every rule."

"You seem like a decent, upstanding citizen to me."

He shakes his head. "My poor Mum, she tried everything to keep me busy and out of trouble. She put me in gymnastics, soccer, swimming, violin—that was a joke. One summer, at her wits end, she signed me up for auditions with a local youth theatre. At first I refused but then heard a cute girl from my school was part of it, so I went."

I sip my wine. "It all boils down to a pretty girl."

"Doesn't it always." He flashes his eyebrows and plays with a lock of my hair. "When we put on our first performance and I got to become someone else, I fell in love with acting. Then I heard the applause and was hooked."

His face lights up as he speaks, and I see he still holds that same enthusiasm from before he made it big. "I bet your mother was happy."

"Yes, happy to have me occupied with something that wouldn't get me arrested, but I still wasn't an easy kid. I don't think it was until I'd been in the States for a year with a proper job before she finally relaxed."

"I find that hard to believe."

"It's true. You’ll have to ask her someday.”

Is he suggesting that I’ll meet his mother? He has no idea how amazing that would be. "Did you ever think you'd be here on Broadway?"

"I didn't. Certainly I knew about Broadway, but I was so busy doing theatre in the West End and television on the BBC. If anything, I was hoping to break through in movies."

"What brought you to New York?"

"Kismet, you could say. The television show, the one where you saw the song "Stay", was canceled after two seasons. I was about to wrap up production of a musical when there was a big industry party where numbers from the various shows were performed. After I sang, this dorky guy in a bow tie and high tops comes up and asks if I'd consider auditioning for a new show on Broadway. It's a long story, but basically I was cast as the lead, flew to New York, and moved into my first flat. We start rehearsals and I find out I haven't actually got the bloody lead, I'm in the running for it against the producer's nephew."

"No."

"Oh yeah. You can guess how that turned out." He takes a drink.

"You didn't get it."

"Nope. I'd never been so destroyed in my life. When I left home, my entire neighborhood came to my send-off party and now I had to call my parents and say I lost the roll to a kid from Oklahoma who couldn't hit a high A."

"What did you do?"

"I knew that I could go home with my tail between my legs, another washed up Broadway wannabe who failed, or I could stick around and figure something out. I was still in the show, his understudy. He ended up getting vocal nodes and had to drop out after a month."

"So you got your shot."

"I did."

"Your parents' must be so proud."

He laughs. His fingers caress my shoulder, shooting little tingles down my arm.

"My dad's more concerned about whether I have a retirement account and proper health insurance. He never stops asking if I'm done playing and ready to settle down."

"Oh no."

"I understand. My parents worked hard for everything they earned and they don't want to see me homeless."

It's hard not to think of my own deadbeat dad who probably doesn't know my area code, let alone what I'm doing with my life. "You seem to be doing great. I don't see any signs of you panhandling."

"As long as I don't have to call home for money, I consider myself a success." He grins and drains his glass, setting it on the coffee table. "What do you plan to do now that Celebrity Dance Off is over?" He asks shifting the attention to me.