Page 81 of If Ever

Yawning, I ride the elevator to the lobby. I picture Tom asleep in his bed with the gray and black comforter and butter soft sheets. I drop my key at the front desk and find Dominic waiting in a black sedan curbside.

"Good morning." Dominic's wide awake but unshaven. He hands me a Starbucks cup.

"Morning," I mumble trying to hang on to sleep.

"Looks like someone has a hangover. How late were you and Tom up?”

I take a drink of coffee. "I'm not hung over. Okay, maybe a little. He threw himself out around 2:30."

"He did, or you did?" he asks, surprised.

"He did," I say, savoring those last moments together.

"I'm impressed."

The car pulls onto the street. It's a winter wonderland with snow coating the city like thick frosting. One lane has been plowed, but there's already a layer of snow coating it.

"Why's that?"

"I was worried he would try to get you in the sack first chance he got."

"You are so rude. If I weren't so tired I'd smack you." But inside I'm happy. "So it's good that he didn't try?"

"Very good. Unless, of course, this means he's gay."

I laugh. "He's not gay."

"What makes you so sure?"

A wide smile covers my face. "The way that man kisses me... there's no way in hell he's gay."

I close my eyes and lean my head back to catch a few more zzz's. Dominic on the other hand is rapidly tapping his foot as if that will help the driver make better time. After a minute of the staccato rhythm, without opening my eyes I grab his arm. "Please stop, or I'll hurt you."

It turns out that half of New York had the same idea to arrive at the airport early. The lines are long as hundreds of weary travelers try to get a jump on the storm. Tensions run high as we wait in the security line. But we get through with plenty of time and just as we arrive at our gate, our flight status changes from On time to Delayed. Everyone in the area groans.

"We might as well grab breakfast." Dominic steers me toward a restaurant with a view of the gate. After we order, Dominic's glued to the blizzard coverage on the tablet at our table.

"What happens if our flight is canceled?" I skim whipped cream off my hot chocolate and into my mouth.

"We take the next available flight."

The snow is blowing sideways, the ground crews are bundled up in Parkas, and snowplows are working on distant runways. "Why do I have a feeling I'll be spending my day in the airport?"

"Don't jinx us."

"I'm not. I think it's inevitable." Not to mention that I'd love to be stranded in New York so that I can be with Tom. Just not at the airport.

"We have to get on a plane today because we have do the world's quickest costume consultation and production meetings. Not to mention we need two new numbers, one being the free-style. If we don't win the free-style, we don't win the show."

"You think we can win?" I ask skeptically as steaming plates of food are delivered.

"I always thought we could win," he says.

"No you didn't. Most of the time you thought we'd be sent home," I say, aiming my piece of bacon at him.

"Yeah, but not because you weren't good enough."

"Because I was a nobody."

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