Page 66 of If Ever

"She also has a dancer's body and a lot more body confidence than I do."

"Look in the mirror. You have a dancer's body now too. We could use the extra votes a costume like this will bring in."

Dominic is good at pushing, but I'm equally stubborn. "I have to get a job in the real world when this ends, and having perspective employers see me in outfits like that will insure I don't." I cringe at how difficult I've already made it for myself. Who's going to take me seriously after this show?

"You'll get jobs with that outfit, just not the kind you were hoping for."

I picture myself stuck as a cocktail waitress for the rest of my life. "No!"

Later when we’re back in the rehearsal room, Dominic barks, "Again!" But he's not mad, he's just intense because he wants to make it to the finals and so do I. We work through the intricate steps of the paso doble and he whips me from one move to another. My muscles ache from holding the rigid frame all day. Tom and I talk on the phone as often as possible, but between the time difference and our busy schedules, I'm always left desperate for more of him.

Dominic has us in the rehearsal hall until eight o'clock each night, but the work pays off. Our dance is beautiful and I love the graceful elegance. My stunning form-fitting dress that we compromised on doesn't hurt any either. Now between the late nights with Tom, and Dominic doubling up our rehearsal time, I'm exhausted.

We run the number repeatedly until each move is perfection. I want to score tens again, and Dominic thinks we can do it, but I'm ready to drop.

"Please, can we take five," I beg, my arms quivering with fatigue. We've been rehearsing since 8 a.m. with few breaks, and it's now past dinnertime.

Dominic nods. "Good job."

I collapse against the wall.

"But remember it's all about the emotion of the dance now. We’re almost out of time. I need you to act the part and show it on your face. That's where Eva has you beat."

"But she's also an Emmy winning actress."

"And you need to act like one too. Remember, this number is all about aggression. I want to see fury in your eyes."

"Too bad they didn't give us this dance early on. I wouldn't have to fake hating you."

He grabs his heart. "How can you say that?

But I can't hate anyone. Not when there's so much joy in my heart, and if we can stay in the competition this week, we make the finals. Either way I have a guaranteed trip to New York and to Tom, then a few weeks later there’s Anna's bachelorette party, and after that I haven't figured anything else out yet. Everything good is happening in my life

But after my spray tan on Monday, I put on my costume, and I'm ready to kill Dominic. It's a combination steam punk meets tribal. I'm wearing a leather bustier cinched so my boobs are pushed up like a Vegas showgirl. There's a sheer overskirt with a fringe border and I'm in high-heeled ankle boots. My makeup is dark lipstick and smoky eyes with my hair pulled up and crimped. I grumble and complain, but he insists it'll get us votes and when I whine to Tom on the phone he heartily agrees and can't wait to see it.

When show time rolls around, I'm a good kind of nervous for our number. Dominic is wearing high-waisted leather pants with a vest hanging open over his bare chest. He has a black cape that he whips wildly in an intricate pattern at the beginning of our number.

"You've got this. We're on a roll. Just focus on your aggression. No smiles."

I grin wide, just to stress him out.

"Stop thinking about your eye candy out in New York. He's there. You're here. Focus."

I stick my tongue out at him and he shakes his head. Our intro begins and we take our positions on the upper stage, both of us fixated on the next ninety seconds. The cameras are in place, the lights come up, and the house band plays. We open with a daring face off, then spin away from each other and glide down the stairs, while I dramatically swish my skirt and Dominic flips his cape in testosterone-filled dominance.

At the main floor, his cape catches and wraps around my ankle. I'm forced to step on his cape. It stops his forward motion. He trips and careens to the floor so fast that I have no time to react other than brace myself as I tumble on top of him.

"Shit!" he exclaims trying to untangle himself from the cape and my limbs.

"We don't look so intense now," I mumble as we scramble to our feet and the music plays on.

Dominic tosses the cape away, takes my hand and pulls me into hold, staring me in the eye with real intensity now. "We're fine, keep going!" We start forward, but my heel is caught in my overskirt and I can't take a full step.

"Dominic! My boot is stuck."

"Ignore it." He takes my hand and tries to lead me on, but I can't take a full step before being hung up. Our eyes lock in panic. I kick out with my foot, ripping the fabric, which gives me more mobility, but my boot is still caught and we're way behind the music.

"Keep going. Ignore it." He calls out the steps, something he hasn't done in several weeks. We're rushing to find our spot in the music, not to mention on the dance floor. The cameras scramble for angles because we're in all the wrong places.

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