"And that's when I tried for Sharkacaine Five; it was like, the most stressful audition of my life. But also the best, you know? Like, that who project was just so, um, spiritually fulfilling."

I was only about twenty minutes into my date and already looking for the nearest exit. The girl sitting across from me at the table in the little Italian place where I'd invited her for our date was pretty enough. She had bright, blonde hair, grass-green eyes, fair skin, and a wide smile full of teeth so ivory-white and straight that I was certain that they were veneers. Katie was her name, though that was almost an incidental detail- she was, in just about every way, identical to the dozens of other gorgeous, wanna-be stars that I'd gone out with in the last few years. We'd met at some cocktail party a few months back where she'd strayed from the arm of the producer she'd arrived with long enough to seek me out and flirt with me in just about the most obvious manner possible. To be truthful, I'd completely forgotten about her until I received a text from her the other night.

And here I was, listening to her go through her resume of B-flicks in some awkward attempt to impress me. You see, girls like these were always angling for the next rung up on the ladder, the next more-prestigious film they can land a part in, the next influential director or producer they can bat their eyelids at. I had no illusions about what was going on here. Sure, I could tell that she was actually attracted to me –the amount of twirling her hair around her finger she did make that abundantly clear- but she, like all the others, had stars in her eyes.

Why was I even bothering with this, you might ask? Well, to be honest, I needed something, or someone, to get my mind off of Mia.

She was all I could think about. After that night when she saw me with Emmanuelle, I knew that I'd made a great mistake, possibly the mistake of a lifetime. Sure, I might've only let myself slip for a moment, but that moment was I that it'd taken for Mia to see all that she needed to see. And worse still, it seemed that Emmanuelle had been hoping for something like this to happen; I could tell by the look in her eyes that she was all too pleased that Mia's heart had been broken.

And so, here I was, weeks later, trying to put my life back in something resembling some kind of order.

It hadn't been easy.

"And that's when I met, um, what's that guy's name? The producer who did the Saw movies?"

I mumbled out the name, more interested in the Old Fashioned in front of me than anything -ah, Kelly? Kendra? Something with a "K," I'm sure- had to say. Sure, she was sweet enough; maybe in another time I would've taken her back to my place for a quick fling. But now, after all I'd been through with Mia, all I could think about was her.

Soon, the food arrived and I listlessly poked at it while listening to my date yammer on. I watched her as she ate out of the corner of my eye, knowing that each bite she took was another moment closer to when I could pay the tab and get back home. Finally, when she was about halfway through, she decided she was done.

"Dessert?" she asked, her green eyes wide.

"Sure," I said, letting her have the run of the menu

I wanted to get out of there, but I felt bad for this poor kid. After all, though I wasn't interested in the date, it'd probably be one of the few times she'd go out with a producer that didn't end in them having some backseat "negotiations" for an upcoming part.

After another ten minutes she was done. I settled up and we took my car back to her place. Once we arrived at her little walk-up in Astoria, I accompanied her to the front door.

"Care for something to drink?" she asked, a sly look on her face.

I'd been around the block enough times to know what this meant. But try as I might to get myself interested, I just couldn't do it. Looking at this beautiful young woman, I couldn't even muster the enthusiasm to kiss her.

"Early morning meeting," I said, already turning my body back towards the street.

"Oh, poo," she said. "No fun."

"I had a lovely time," I said.

"Me too," she responded, her voice sultry and low.

Then she went right for it, puckering her lips and closing her eyes.

Girl knows what she wants, I thought.

I leaned in and gave her a quick peck.

"OK gotta go bye!" I said, hurrying back to my car.

Minutes later, I was back in the driver's seat and heading back to my apartment. I arrived home to see Olivia at the kitchen table with Sammie, that girl I'd hired to babysit. I paid Sammie for the night and sent her off.

"Hey, Minnie," I said, mussing Olivia's hair as she finished the coloring she was working on.

"Hi, Daddy," she said. "How was the date?"

I winced at this, regretting that Olivia knew anything about my dating life.

"You know what?" I said, cracking open a beer. "It could've been a lot worse."

"I don't think you should be dating anyone," said Olivia, not looking up from her drawing.

"Oh, yeah?" I asked, taking a sip of my beer. "And why's that?"

"Because you already have a good girlfriend- Mia."

The name hit me like a slim knife to the gut. Olivia had been asking about Mia just about every day since Mia left. I knew that having her leave would be rough on the kid, but I was foolish enough to hope that Mia's leaving would've been a little smoother, maybe even with the understanding that Mia could come by for babysitting every now and then. Instead, because of my foolish behavior, Olivia was left confused and saddened by Mia's sudden departure. And all I could do was tell her that Mia was a work friend, and that our time together was over. Of course, this did little to make her feel better.

"We've been over this," I said in a soft voice. "Mia's not staying here anymore."

"I bet if you asked her really nice she'd come back."

"If only it were that easy, kiddo," I said, mussing her hair and leaving her to her drawings.

I went to my office and took a seat in front of the computer. On top of everything, I still had the finishing touches on the film to oversee. Just about everything was done, and all that was left for me to do was to sign off on the final cut. And, sure enough, checking my email I saw that I had a message from Michael, letting me know that he and the rest of the crew had just finished, and that the final cut of the movie was ready to be approved.

I turned in my chair, took a sip of my beer and watched the city out of my office window. Just like that, after a month of work, the project was done. The biggest film of my career thus far was in the can, and all that remained was to premiere it, and that could be in as little as a couple of weeks. Firing back an email, I let Michael know that I was ready to look it over. As I'd been part of the editing process, my final approval would be a formality.

The flick was sure to be a hit, and the next phase of my career was all but laid out in front of me. I should've felt on top of the world. But instead, all I felt was empty. After all, what good is being a success if you haven't got anyone to share it with?

And the worst thing of all was that I knew I only had myself to blame.