Page 61 of If Ever

What I want is to vomit.

By the end of the day I'm so disgusted I flee the building and rush home to shower off his odorous stench.

My first impulse is to call Tom, but he already warned me he couldn't talk tonight. He's doing some sort of workshop for another show, which makes no sense since he's in a hit show, but on top of it he has a two-show day, and then the workshop and a show tomorrow too. With him unavailable I call my best friend.

"Oh my God, Anna. Ivan is a total piece of work!"

"He does come off as pretty confident on the show."

I check the cupboard for a bottle of wine, but I have none. "It's more like egotistical, puffed-up, grade-A asshole."I slam the door shut and settle on a lemonade.

"He can't be that bad."

"And he's the handsy-ist guy I've ever encountered." I shudder in revulsion. It's not just how often he touches me, but how he does it. If a guy touched me that way at a bar, I'd throw a drink at him.

"He's probably trying to get a rise out of you. You'll have to fight fire with fire."

"And how do I do that?"

"You could play along and meet him grope for grope."

"Yuck."

"Or you could work a little passive-aggressive magic on him?"

Now she has my attention. "Go on."

"You're so dedicated. Have you ever watched his partner Haley? She totally runs the show with him. Take a page from her book. Show up late. Take your time. Don't be so willing to get to work. Keep your phone on and I'll text and call you every ten minutes. It'll throw him off his game."

"You think Haley has been acting that way on purpose? I thought she was just flighty."

"Okay, maybe she is, but she's also a model. She deals with jerks like him ten times a day. I doubt she's a total airhead."

I think of how she saunters around with her nose in the air avoiding rehearsal. I figured she didn't care? But I can see how it could be a defense mechanism.

"I can do that."

The next day I saunter into rehearsal at eleven o'clock.

"There you are. I was afraid you forgot about me," Ivan says pursing his lips in a pout.

My stomach churns, but I gush, "I am so sorry. I overslept and that never happens." I take my time setting down my bag and organizing my things. When I can't stall any longer, I join him in the center of the room. He opens his arms as if I'd step right in for his groping session. At the last second I turn back, leaving him with only air, and dig out my phone to send Anna a quick text.

Satisfied, I finally return and stop two feet away and face the mirror.

"I'm over here, kitten," he purrs.

"Of course." I turn and he steps closer.

"Let's see if you remember the routine after lazing about in bed all morning." He holds out his arms and I take his hand, his arm clamping tight at my waist. I fight the urge to stiffen and instead smile amiably.

We work through the steps and I'm amazed at how well I remember it as Ivan's teaching technique is so different from Dominic's.

"Excellent my brilliant little protégé. Today I will school you on passion, allure, the je ne sais quoi. The audience must see your desire, feel our heat. It will be as if we're making love." He speaks in what I assume is his bedroom voice, husky and over pronouncing each word while his hand caresses my upper ass.

I choke back my revulsion.

"Look deep into my eyes and feel my desire."

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