The next few weeks were...quite something. Now that Mia and I had acted on the attraction that was clearly still there, our relationship took on a slightly different tenor. She began to feel less to me like a live-in assistant and more like, well, something much more than that. We did our best to keep things somewhat distant –we did our best to make sure that we slept in separate beds for Olivia's sake- but aside from that, we found one another slowly slipping back into our old relationship. After all, we didn't break up on strictly bad terms- what was wrong with revisiting what was, for the most part, a good thing?

And to be honest, I was eager to have a woman like her at my side. My career had been going rather successfully, sure, but it didn't leave much time for relationships that were more than superficial dalliances with actresses or crew women. It takes a certain type of person to succeed in this industry, and one of the traits of that type of person is that relationships are understood as something of a luxury, something that you can indulge in between projects, or when you and your lover's schedules make such a thing otherwise convenient.

So, to have someone like Mia, someone who I already had a history with, was exactly what I was looking for. We spent our days –and some nights, when necessary- on set together plugging away at the production. Our free time, however, was spent together. I was more than glad to have someone I could share my wealth with, and it was wonderful to be able to show someone like her the city of the city that tends to find itself off-limits to those who aren't as financially secure as men like myself. We went to the trendiest restaurants, we saw shows, and we took longs strolls through Central Park.

Her relationship with Olivia grew as well. Olivia's mother was, well, the flighty type, to put it lightly- your standard actress more concerned with herself than others. Make no mistake, she cared for our little girl, but the ego of a star tended not to leave much room for others, as I'd painfully learned during those difficult few months when our relationship deteriorated. Mia, on the other hand, adored the girl. She was happy to spend hours with her in the city or watching movies, and before I knew it, they were thick as thieves. I couldn't begin to describe just how pleased I was that my little girl now had something of a stable female figure in her life.

And, it goes without saying, we made love nearly constantly. I savored every moment of our intimate time together. We knew one another's body so well, and once we were able to move past our initial awkwardness, we found that we fit one another as easily as an old glove. I couldn't believe that I'd forgotten just how beautiful Mia was, and being with her in this way again after so many years was almost like a gift- one that I didn't want to take for granted this time around.

I often found myself wondering just how much different I look in Mia's eyes. The reason we broke up before was that she felt that I wasn't serious, that I would do nothing but drag her down. Sure, I had a modestly successful career going now, but aside from my brief marriage to Olivia's mother, I realized that I hadn't really changed my ways. I dated around, kept irregular hours, and lived a life that wasn't all that different from how I lived when we dated before. Olivia kept me grounded when she was around, but aside from those times, I was still the same man in many ways. I found myself worrying that it was only a matter of time until Mia saw through the flashy exterior that I'd managed to build up over the last few years and realized that not much had really changed. And when she did, she'd be gone for good.

"Action!" shouted Michael, the director of the project.

The scene snapped to life, and I found myself watching Michael more than the action unfolding in the middle of the sectioned-off street in Queens where we were currently filming. Michael had made some improvements to his wielding of his authority, but he still had a long way to go. Mia was nearby, watching him just as carefully. Thankfully, the Emmanuelle wasn't a part of this scene, so things could go much more smoothly.

And just as the thought of Emmanuelle entered my mind, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I slipped it out, and sure enough, it was from her.

Finding work less interesting without me? ;)

Emmanuelle had, in the last few weeks since our "meeting" in her trailer, been making her interest in me about as clear as could be. I'm not going to lie- she was making it very difficult to be professional.

I sighed, and against my better judgment, typed up a response.

It's definitely calmer; that's for sure.

The response came before I could put my phone away.

Sounds painfully boring.

I shook my head and smiled; it was hard to accept just how much these artist-types thrived off of drama.

Boring's good when you're the one in charge.

I flicked my attention back to the set, and then to Mia, who was currently standing near Michael, keeping an eye on him and making sure that he was able to keep control of the set. I was being furtive in my behavior, as though I were doing something that I shouldn't be.

Spoken like someone who needs some excitement in his life.

In spite of myself, I couldn't help but feel a little intrigued. Sometimes it felt like the more I tried to keep my professional façade intact, the more the passions that I kept in check wanted to break out. I typed up my response, my fingers seeming to move on their own.

And what kind of excitement are you suggesting?

I regretted sending the text as soon as I hit the button. Behavior like this led to nothing but trouble, as I'd learned time and time again. But I just couldn't seem to help myself.

The response came about a minute later.

Something like this, it said.

And attached was a picture of Emmanuelle wearing, well, very little. The shot was of her from the mouth down, her full red lips curved into a sensual, mischievous smile. Below that, her body was nearly on full display. She was wearing nothing but very lacy, very skimpy sky-blue underwear that showed off about as much of her winsome, porcelain-colored body as I cared to see. Her fire red hair snaked into the top of the picture like thick vines.

It was something else.

I shoved my phone back into my pocket, realizing that nothing good would come from continuing this conversation. And on top of that, the feeling of guilt began to build. I don't know why, since Mia and I weren't involved in anything even resembling a committed relationship. But still, I couldn't help but feel as though I was doing something seriously wrong.

"What'd you think of that take?"

Mia's voice behind me startled me somewhat; I felt as though I'd been caught with my hand in the cookie jar.

"To be honest," I said, turning to face her, "I was a little distracted."

Mia smirked and playfully jabbed me on the shoulder.

"You better be careful," she said. "I might just steal this job out from under you."

She turned back to the set just as my phone buzzed in my pocket once again. I slipped it out, and sure enough, it was another message from Emmanuelle. Or, I should say, another picture and a message.

No response? I'm hurt.

Below was a picture of her in the same underwear in a similar pose, this time her hand on her bra, pulling down one cup just enough to expose a very pink, very hard nipple. My heart began to race, and part of me wanted to call in a damn private helicopter to airlift me over to Emmanuelle's place so that I could give her what she clearly wanted.

Instead, I typed up a quick message.

Very nice, but duty calls.

Moments later another picture arrived. This one was…well, let say it was far, far more revealing than the other two, and quite definitively settled the question of whether or not Emmanuelle was a natural redhead.

Too bad- I was in the mood for some fun.

I turned my phone to silent and shoved it into my pocket. This was the last thing I needed to be distracting myself with, especially with production happening at this very moment. My phone dealt with, I headed over to where Mia stood watching the shooting intently. I watched Michael order the actors around, but noted that he was still having trouble asserting himself.

This is no good, I thought. What's he going to do when Emmanuelle's here and Mia and I are off? She'll eat him alive, and cost me money in the process. I put these thoughts aside, already ready to go home for the day.

"You want to grab a bite after this?" I asked Mia after checking my watch and seeing we were about at the end of the time we'd been allotted for street shooting.

"Definitely, but if we don't get a good take out of today I think I might flip my shit," she said, her eyes locked onto the actors.

I couldn't help but smile a bit at this, noting that she was making quite the transformation into a hawk-eyed production assistant.

"Come on!" she shouted, stomping onto the set after Michael called out "cut" yet again.

I watched as she strode right up to Jace Landau, looking up at him, still short even on her tip-toes, and chewed him out for yet another line flub. He looked rather sheepish, and the sight of an acting big-shot like him getting read the riot act by a cute girl at least a foot shorter than him was quite the sight. I considered stepping in, but I decided to let her have her fun for now.

And it seemed to do the trick, since the next take was exactly what we were looking for. We wound down the rest of the time doing some reshoots, and soon the day was done. I'd been my best to put Emmanuelle's texts out of my head, but my phone seemed to be crying out in my pocket, just being me to pull it out and take another look. But before I could consider the matter for too much longer, Mia approached me.

"Ready to go?" she asked?

"Absolutely."

Twenty minutes later we were at a Thai place in Long Island City, two heaping plates of pad thai in front of both of us, along with a few scattered plates of spring rolls and chicken satay. We chatted about the work today, each of us expression humored concern about Michael's capabilities as a director and the prima donna attitudes of the talent.

"So, have you been checking in with Simon?" I asked, wrapping a heaping helping of noodles around my chopsticks.

Mia seemed to be startled by this, and nearly dropped the spring roll that she was dipping into her peanut sauce.

"Um, why do you ask?" she said, her eyes downcast.

"No reason," said. "Just making conversation. I figured he might be interested in how things've been going on set. You are still working for him, after all."

"Um, yeah," she said, shoving the roll into her mouth. "Just through email."

Something was up, but I didn't have anything more than Mia's odd behavior and a hunch to go on.

"I'm trying to figure out how much to say about Michael and Emmanuelle," she said, clearly settling into something she was more comfortable talking about.

I wanted to press her a little more; there was clearly something that she wasn't telling me. But now wasn't the time.

"And if I didn't know any better," Mia continued, "I'd swear that little miss redhead has the hots for you."

Now it was my turn to be uncomfortable.

"I'm used to it," the words tumbling out of my mouth without consideration for how arrogant they sounded.

"Well, aren't we Mister Hot Stuff," she said, raising an eyebrow her tone now more confident now that she not only was able to drop her issue, but focus on mine.

I took a sip of water, giving myself time to think.

"That's not what I mean," I said. "It's pretty common for actresses to be flirty. Women like Emmanuelle are always ‘on,' if you get what I'm saying."

"I suppose I'll just have to take your word for it," said Mia, her mouth in a little smirk.

"Trust me," I said, "it's more trouble than it's worth. I might've been receptive to the attention when I was younger, but it gets old fast. Especially when you're trying to make a movie."

"I'm sure there're plenty of men who'd kill to have these kinds of problems," said Mia, that smirk still planted on her lips.

For the moment she had me, and unless I wanted to really turn the tables, I was going to have to let her get her licks in. So, we passed the rest of the dinner like this, with Mia making crack after crack about poor little Liam who has the most attractive women in the world throwing themselves at him. I took it in good humor, but I could sense there was some real insecurity beneath the jokes.

Not to mention the fact that the more she went on, the more certain I grew that there was something about her relationship with Simon that she wasn't telling me. Simon had a reputation as both a womanizer and as the kind of man who does whatever it takes to get ahead. In most circumstances, I would've avoided working with someone like him, but I knew that only with his resources would I be able to get this picture off of the ground. Still, by bringing him along, I'd invited an unwanted element into my life, and though Mia was surely on my side, who knows what sort of machinations he was working behind the scenes.

We finished up our food and headed home, picking up Olivia from her friend's on the way back. Once home, the girls planted themselves in front of the TV and went to my office. I needed some solitude to figure out just how to handle all that I'd learned today.

But one thing was for sure: things were about to get a lot more complicated.