Page 65 of If Ever

That I want to kick Ivan's ass, but instead I message back, "You were exquisite. And a tease. I miss you!"

Los Angeles

"We have the team dance this week. That ought to shake things up a bit. We're on a team with Brady and Eva," I tell Tom the next evening after I learn I’m safe for another week and finished with Ivan.

"The chef and the soap star. They're both really good."

"We had our first rehearsal and the pros spent over an hour arguing how to choreograph the number. Honestly, I didn't even need to be there." But Eva was friendly and even complimented my last dance, which made my day. It was nice to feel part of a group for a change. "Brady is wrapped up in his partner, Leyna. I'm pretty sure they're doing a whole lot more than dancing."

"His wife won't be happy about that," he says. "Whoa!"

"What?"

"A guy just streaked down Tenth Avenue. That's new."

"Where do you live?" I can't believe I've never asked before. I have no idea if he's in a fancy sky rise, or a cramped apartment.

"Hell's Kitchen."

"Isn't that a cooking show?"

He laughs and I picture his smile. "It's also a neighborhood."

"Sounds sinister."

"It's a dangerous part of New York filled with criminals," he says in an ominous tone.

"Oh, great. Now I'm going to worry about you every time you step out your door. Why do you live there?"

"It was a cheap sublet. It's not so bad. There are bars on the windows. No worries though. I'm unlocking the door now. See, I'm safe inside."

"Good."

And that's how the days pass. We talk whenever we can and I focus on rehearsals.

Come show night, our team is in a panic because we haven't been able to rehearse together since Tuesday night. I thought working as a team would bring me closer to the other contestants, but Brady was in New Orleans promoting his new cookbook, and Eva had a location shoot for her soap.

"This is a mess," I whisper to Dominic, when Brady misses his cue again as we run the number in the back lot area where the guys usually shoot pre-show hoops.

He pulls me aside. "Put your blinders on. Either he pulls it together or he doesn't. As long as you shine, that's all that matters."

But I know we need the bonus points a team win would give us. I hate being in the bottom every week and this could help.

Worrying about the team dance helps take my mind off our jive. We sail through it, and during every commercial break, even though Dominic said it didn't matter, I mark through steps with Brady. The other team performs a futuristic dance that's more robotic than graceful with them wearing sleek silver bodysuits. It's a cool number with precision movement.

Our team huddles together and Dominic gives us a last pep talk. If we're judged by appearance alone, we'd win easily. Our dance is a Bollywood meets ballroom fusion with bright costumes and great music. We're introduced and take our places. The pros have choreographed a creative crowd pleaser with the ladies skirts swirling in unison to the upbeat party song. By some miracle Brady hits his marks and the number is a blast.

Out of breath and relieved that we did so well, we face the judges to glowing comments and scores.

When I talk to Tom later, he gushes about our performances. "Could you stop getting better? I'll never see you at this rate."

And he's right when we learn we're safe the next night. It’s Molly, the reality-dating chick, who goes home. Dominic is bummed because she was partnered with his best friend Pavel, but it also means we made the semifinals and no one is more surprised than me.

"Come on, Chelsea. You'll look great," Dominic says the next day, trying to convince me to agree to a skimpy costume the wardrobe designer has sketched out.

"No freakin' way! It's basically a string bikini with a bustle of ruffles on the rear end."

"Cassie wears stuff like this all the time and she looks amazing."

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