Olivia had taken out her lunch while she waited for Pyotr to return, presumably from making the phone call to the possible new partner. There really was no one she could think of who would be available and at her level. She knew everyone. At least, she thought she did.<br/><br/>The moment the door opened, her green eyes fixed on her coach, then the man behind him. In a second, she was up on her feet, virtually choking on her sandwich as she shook her head violently and tried to swallow.<br/><br/>"Uh uh! Uh uh!" she garbled.<br/><br/>"Olivia, please. You promised me," Pyotr warned. "He is-"<br/><br/>"A cheating wanker!" She had managed to swallow the last of her mouthful and her glare could have pierced metal.<br/><br/>"He is your last chance," Pyotr stated firmly. "It is him and Nationals, or no one and nothing. The end. Finished. Over. Gone. No more. You dance with him, or you dance with no one. He has<em>promised</em>to work with you." He turned to Max expectantly. "<em>Remember</em>?"