"Aaaand-action!"

I'd heard the words over a thousand times so far, but this time it wasn't Michael speaking them- it was Mia. Once we'd gotten far enough into the production that it became abundantly clear that Michael and Emmanuelle were going to have more than a hard time working together, Mia began stepping up to the plate, handling more and more of the on-set affairs. Michael was all too happy to partake in this arrangement, slipping back further and further on set until he was well-hidden behind the bay of computer monitors where he could watch over the shooting from a safe distance. So, Mia had become an assistant director of sorts, handing the direct interaction with the staff while Michael maintained the grand vision he was looking for.

It was a highly unorthodox arrangement, but I'll be damned if it didn't work. I was more than impressed to watch Mia take the reins like this. I was hesitant at first, but she seemed to have a knack for working with the talent. She'd gone from a shy little wallflower to a stern-voiced pro over the course of the shooting, and I was pleased to have been the one to facilitate this transformation.

Everything began to move so smoothly, in fact, that I was shocked to find how quickly we approached the final few days of shooting. The final scenes were a major pain to organize, what with them taking place in Times Square, but all was going well so far. Today was the last day, and I was quite excited to have the shooting behind us. Since the film dialogue-heavy, post-production wouldn't take very much time at all; Michael and the screenwriters had even asked me to step in and offer some suggestions for how to cut the film, and I was more than willing to help. It'd been quite some time since I'd sat down in the editing room, and I looked forward to offering what suggestions I could.

I watched carefully Emmanuelle and Jace as they performed their big scene in front of the neon lights and massive advertisements of Times Square. Jace was a little heavy on the overacting, but nothing that we couldn't fix in post. He had a face made for the big screen, and his amateurish-at-times acting could easily be cleaned up with the magic of editing.

Emmanuelle, on the other hand, was a whole other story.

Her come-ons had been getting more and more direct, and I knew that it was only a matter of time before she made her interest clear in a way that I couldn't ignore. Maybe even in a way that I couldn't say no to.

I put these thoughts out of my mind, turning my attention back to the scene in progress. Emmanuelle and Jace worked through their lines, and the performances were…actually not bad. Mia had somehow managed to coax some good work out of Jace, and even I found myself distracted by the talent on display. Soon, the scene was finished. Mia turned to the rest of the crew, a smile on her face.

"I…think that's it!" she said, beaming.

Michael shot out from behind his bay of monitors and strode into the center of the set.

"You heard the lady," he said. "That's a wrap!"

That was it; the shooting was done. It'd been a hectic couple of months, but we'd finished. The most high-profile, high-budget production of my career so far was finally finished. Well, there was still post, but the hard part was no officially behind us. No more dealing with the talent, no more making sure the logistics for shots worked out. Now there was editing, marketing, and hoping the damn thing made a profit. But I could worry about all that later.

There was hugging and clapping all around. Mia rushed over to me and threw her arms around my neck.

"We did it!" she said. "I can't believe it's over."

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Emmanuelle, a sly smirk on her face as she watched Mia give me a hug. Who knows what was on her mind? I certainly didn't want to ask.

"I didn't do a damn thing other than making sure the set didn't burn down," I said. "You're the one who did the real work."

Her face turned that same deep red it did whenever I said anything nice to her.

"You need to learn how to take a damn compliment," I said with a smile.

"Someday," she said with a lovely, lilting laugh. "I'm just so overwhelmed that it's finally done."

"Well, now we celebrate," I said, my eyes flicking to those of nearby crew members. "Let's get this set broken down and get ready for a great night out. On me, of course."

Another cheer went up from the crew. As I watched the men and women hustle back to work to finish everything up, I couldn't help but admire how well they'd all worked together. Sure, there were some issues here and there, but for the most part all went as it should.

"On you?" asked Emmanuelle, sauntering up to us with that slinky stride of hers. "I'm curious to see what you've got in mind."

Her eyes settled on Mia, giving her the look of a snake sizing up a woodland critter for a snack. Mia sensed the hostility and shrank away from me. Both ladies seemed to detect that something was going on that neither of them wanted to bring to the surface.

"I've rented out The Gray Room for the night. Drinks on me."

Emmanuelle's slim, red eyebrows raised.

"Wow," she said. "Pulling out all of the stops."

"You guys did a great job, and I want to make sure you have a nice night out to celebrate."

"Well," said Emmanuelle, "I'll be looking forward to it."

She shot one more gimlet-eyed glance at Mia before joining the rest of the crew in hugs and congratulations.

"That's one person I won't miss working with," said Mia. "One of those bitchy girls who sees every other woman as competition."

"Best get used to it," I said. "She's pretty par for the course when it comes to stars."

Didn't I know it.

Mia and I spent a little more time on set, helping a little with breaking things down. I made my usual effort to personally thank every member of the crew. Plenty of them were men and women who I'd worked with before, and I knew the importance of making sure they knew how good of a job they did. Skilled crew was hard to come by, after all.

Once Mia and I finished our rounds, we headed out and let the crew finish up. She and I had a celebratory late lunch, and made a little stop-off on the way back to the apartment to pick out something nice for Mia to wear. As she tried on different dresses, looking just sexy as hell in each one of them, I couldn't help but wonder what was going to happen between us. After all, the only reason our lives were as tied together as they were was because of this little arrangement, and that was over. Soon, she'd be back at Bronzeplate, back at her old job, back at her old apartment. Sure, I could try poaching her from Simon Whittaker, but then what? Have her move back in as my permanent assistant?

No- there was something deeper that was moving all of this, and I needed to address it. Part of me wanted her back, but another part of me was sure that she wouldn't have any of it, that she felt that I was just the same reckless man who'd simply break her heart again.

I decided to shelve this issue for one more day. After all, when Mia came out of the dressing room at the boutique on Fifth Avenue, looking beautiful as ever in her skin-tight party dress, I knew that for at least tonight I'd try to live in the moment.

"That's the one," I said.

A beaming smile broke out across her face, and I knew she concurred.

We headed back to the apartment and celebrated with a glass of champagne, reveling in a job well-done as we looked over the city. Olivia came out to join us, a cheering us with a glass of sparkling grape juice. Soon, we sent her off to a friend who lived in the building, and it was time to go.

"Ready for this?" I asked, finishing my glass of champagne.

"Let's do it," she said.

We headed own to the street, where a limo awaited us. Another glass of wine on the way over later and we were there at The Gray Room. The driver let us out, and we walked like king and queen into that place. The party was thumping as we entered. It was packed with crew and their friends, the low-lit, spacious rooms of the club filled with people. Just as the name suggested, gray was the dominant color at the place, the walls tracked with azure neon lights. There was a large dance floor with a DJ booth above it all, and several smaller rooms allowed for quiet. And up above was a rooftop bar with a wonderful view of Manhattan over the East River.

Mia and I made our way through the place, shaking hands here and there. I was used to being the center of attention, but Mia was surprised to find that the industry reporters who were there wanted to know just who this young woman was who'd played such a large role on set. Evidently, Michael was eager to make known just how much help he had.

"What do I say?" asked Mia, speaking over the music, the latest blogger who'd been interviewing us sent off.

"Just tell them you're happy to help, and that it was a team effort. I mean, it's the truth."

"Makes sense," said Mia, taking a drink off a passing server's tray.

"Trust me," I said. "You want to give them as little as possible. Be boring. They're out for a scoop and aren't afraid to take whatever scraps you give them and turn them into some dramatic tale."

"I'll keep that in mind," she said.

"You should. You're in a new world now," I said. "You're going to have to learn to deal with these people."

Her eyes went wide when she realized the truth to what I said. Now that she'd had this production under her belt, her career was set to go up and up. I could easily picture her running her own company in less than a decade. Hell, we might even be competition someday.

"You've got a knack for this," I said. "You're going to go far. But for now, just have fun."

She smiled at this, and I pulled her onto the dance floor. I wasn't normally much of a dancer, but something about being with Mia brought it out of me. We danced close, our bodies pressed right against one another's. And as I lost myself in the music, I began to wonder if this is what I wanted, if trying to start something again with Mia was where I saw my life going.

And right there on the dance floor, I realized that the answer was yes.

We took a break from dancing, and I knew that I needed to tell her tonight what I'd just realized, that I wanted to be together once again. But as soon as we stepped off the dance floor, a small mob of journalists swarmed over us.

"Go get some fresh air," said Mia with a smile. "Like you said, I need practice dealing with these goons."

Fresh air did sound nice, and she, like with everything else she tried, seemed to be handling the journalists with her typical aplomb. Refreshing my drink, I ducked through the crowds and made my way to the roof, finding a quiet corner hidden from the crowds. Looking out onto the city, the sun casting the sky in a deep red blaze beyond the imperious and imposing skyline, I took a deep breath, letting myself calm and the decision I made to sink in. Excitement gripped me, the kind I hadn't felt in a long while. I found myself looking forward to my life with Mia. Still, the question remained of whether or not she'd accept my offer.

However, my pleasant time alone wasn't to last. As I took a sip from my drink, the buzz taking hold, a sensual voice slithered through the air.

"Quite the view, no?"

I didn't even need to turn to know who it was. Sure enough, my eyes still fixed straight ahead, Emmanuelle moved to my side and leaned against the balcony. I glanced around, noting that though I could hear the chatter of the people at the bar on the other side of the roof, where we stood no one could see us.

"It is," I said.

My tone was brusque, and I wanted to make it as clear as possible that I wasn't interested.

"I can think of a nicer view," she said, turning to me and looking me up and down with those narrow, emerald eyes.

"Listen," I said, taking a breath. "I realize that you may have gotten a…particular impression from the way you and I interacted during the shooting, but…"

"Oh," she said. "I got more than an ‘impression'."

She moved closer to me, placing her hand on my arm. Emmanuelle was close enough that I could feel the heat from her body, smell the scent of her perfume. I wanted to resist, but she was making it…quite difficult.

"I know you liked what I had to show you," she said, her voice as smooth as silk as she moved her hand down my arm, her fingers dancing over my hand. "What is it, that mousey little assistant you've been running around with? Please. I can do things for you that she couldn't think of in her wildest fantasies…if she even has fantasies."

I knew I needed to pull away, to get myself as far away from her as possible. But something, some animal part of me, kept me planted down right where I was.

"No…" I said, placing my hand on hers. "This isn't a good idea."

"Oh, that's where you're wrong," she said, taking my touch as permission to move even closer. "I think it's a very good idea. Come here- let me show you just how good."

Emmanuelle turned me towards her, and I looked down at her stunning features. She ran her tongue over her full, red lips, her eyes narrowed in sensual hunger.

For a moment, I felt like I just might give in. But right at that moment, my desire for Mia was all I could think about. Emmanuelle, and the many like her, were enticing, but what I had with Mia was something else, something more real. And it was worth more than anything Emmanuelle could offer.

That didn't stop her from grabbing the lapels of my suit jacket and pulling me in for a deep, full kiss, however. I tried my best to fight it off, but for a few brief moments I succumbed to Emmanuelle, falling into her kiss. But I was soon able to pull away.

"There you are," said a familiar voice.

It was Mia.

I turned and sure enough, there she was. Mia stood at the entry to the private space where Emmanuelle and I stood, a look of both shock and pain on her face.

"I…um, guess you're busy."

"Listen," I said, stepping away from Emmanuelle and towards Mia, "I don't want this. You walked in at exactly the wrong moment."

"You're sure right about that," said Mia, stepping backward away from me.

"Oh, please," Emmanuelle. "I could tell that what I was giving you was exactly what you wanted."

That seemed to be all Mia could take. Her face red, her eyes heavy with tears, she turned and ran.

"Now that the little imp's gone," said Emmanuelle, moving back to my side and placing her hand on my shoulder, "let's get back to it."

I grasped her hand firmly and took it off my shoulder, my eyes narrowed into slivers.

"Never again," I said.

With that, I took off.

"Oh, you're no fun," said Emmanuelle as I started off across the roof, trying to catch up with Mia.

I couldn't care less at that moment about anything Emmanuelle had to say. As I weaved through the crowd, all I could think about was how badly I'd screwed up, and how I'd potentially thrown away the one girl who I'd ever really loved.

I caught up with Mia on the other side of the roof. She was standing alone, the city behind her.

"Mia," I said, walking towards her with hesitant steps.

"I can't believe I thought you'd changed," she said, turning her head just enough to where I could see the tears running down her cheek. "You had a new job, a new life. Fuck, you even have a daughter."

I stood still as she spoke, knowing that there was nothing I could say in my defense.

"And these last few weeks…I don't know how, but I found myself falling for you again," she said, wiping away a stray tear as she turned to face me. "I thought that this time, things might just be different. Shows how goddamn stupid I was."

"Mia," I said. "It…"

"It what, it wasn't what it looked like? Spare me," she said, her voice a hiss. "That girl had her tongue shoved down your throat and you looked pretty OK with it from where I was standing. So don't try to insult me by suggesting that I didn't see what I damn well know I saw."

Again, she was right.

"I…don't know what to say."

And it was true. For all the negotiating I'd done in my business life, I couldn't find a single word to say in my defense.

"You don't need to say a damn thing," she said. "Your behavior did all the talking for you."

And with that, she stormed off, leaving me alone on the roof, standing there lost, the sun having long set, the night now surrounding me.