Sergio hung up his phone and glanced between their star and poor Lauren. "Good afternoon, Meta. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"This is not my fault," Lauren quickly explained. It was a childish claim, but she'd been putting up with Meta's mood swings all season, and finally, something had snapped.

"Where are the guys?" Annie asked her.

"Pace and Justin are downstairs with Beth. Johnny, Brad, and Dre are back in the studio. She walked out in the middle of makeup."

"Here." Annie handed Lauren fifty bucks. "Take them to get some coffee and snacks or whatever. We'll handle this."

"Fine. Sergio, you can reach me on my cell."

"Yeah, whatever. Go." Sergio waved Lauren out the door. She sighed and disappeared toward the exit. "Now what's the problem?"

"Lauren promised me I would not be embarrassed," Meta said, all sour-faced.

"Who embarrassed you?" Sergio asked. "All I've seen is hours and hours and hours of you dancing, hanging out with your friends, and talking on the phone." He left out the blatant flirting with anything that breathed and the constant arguments she had with her assistant that kept the viewers coming back. Meta didn't see those degrading screaming matches as a mark on her character though. Making her assistant feel like crap was part of the business, how she paid her dues. Annie really hated Meta.

Their star straightened and adjusted her cut-off sweatshirt. She had the whole Flashdance wardrobe down. "I fell the other night at The Maypole, and Lauren told me you were going to air it."

"And?" Sergio had seen the footage, but he wasn't about to tell Meta that he'd laughed at it himself for a good hour.

"And if you do, I quit."

"I thought you wanted Lauren fired."

Meta's mouth opened, but she didn't have a response.

Sergio leaned over and dug through his filing cabinet, then thumbed open what must have been a copy of Meta's contract.

"We have promised to not film you while you're taking a piss. While you're having sex, which is a huge concession. Trust me. We'd be making more money off you if there was sex, but the drinking, the partying, you falling on your face is fair game."

"My life is my style and my coordination. I can't have footage of me drunk and falling on my face on television for everyone to see," Meta fumed.

"I must say your timing is perfect. We're holding casting right next door. I'm sure all the teen girls and their mothers are already texting about the crazy woman screaming in the hallway. Maybe I can have Jewel go over and whisper the identity of the screamer."

Meta turned fire engine red. She needed her target audience to dislike her a little. Genuine hate did not go a long way.

"Annie, you'd say our rigs are fairly big, and Brad had to mic you before you went into the club."

Annie shrugged. "Yes."

"It's not like the crew snuck up on you," Sergio went on, giving Meta that "so what the hell do you want from us" look.

Realizing she wasn't going to win, Meta settled down and pouted. "She promised me, Sergio."

"This show is not about your life, Meta. It's about the life we want to show. Three years ago, you were a backup dancer for a shitty pop star no one remembers. Your life was instant noodles and praying you booked another gig to pay your rent. Your words, not mine. But the truth is we looked at six other girls. Lauren got you on TV, not your mad dancing skill. You can walk, but we'll sue you. Your show's worth more than your paycheck. I don't care how you feel right now, but Annie's a nice gal. Annie, how can we spin this?"

Moments like that kept Annie in this line of work. She did not enjoy being around Sergio, but she loved this company, and Sergio knew exactly how to keep this place running when it mattered. Even though they disagreed on a lot of things, Meta getting her ass back over to the dance studio so they could start shooting was not one of them.

"You saw the footage?" Meta asked Annie.

"Yes."

"What the fuck, Sergio? Who hasn't seen it?"

"I have an idea," Annie told her. "Meta, do your interview and play the fall off. Everyone can relate to getting wasted and taking a spill. If you laugh about it, people will forget it sooner." Annie could relate to getting wasted and molesting a woman who at the time wasn't hers to molest. She could definitely identify with Meta's pain on that level. Still. "You make it an issue, you delay the episode, it goes to the tabloids-"

"And that footage will totally get leaked. Then you fell, you lost your show, and you got sued. See? You say you got silly, you fell. No big deal. You're human. People love humans."

Meta and Annie both stared at Sergio for a second.

Annie shook off his last remark and turned back to Meta. "Meta. It'll work. Trust me. And maybe we can split the fall with tomorrow night's performance. People see your accident and then spend the next four minutes watching you prep and rocking an awesome show."

Meta calmed down for a moment, thinking this new plan over, but Sergio didn't want to give her much more time to contemplate.

"Go back to the studio, finish makeup, and let's try and save the hour of daylight you've just wasted."

"Fine. I'm still not speaking to Lauren."

"Okay. Great. We'll see you soon."

Meta stormed out of his office.

"Nice save, Collins." Sergio leaned back in his chair and flipped Meta's contract closed. On closer examination, Annie saw that he'd actually been looking at a copy of the crew list. She'd wondered. The contracts were in her office.

"You threatened her. I didn't save anything," she replied honestly.

"I hate that bitch. Call Lauren and have them meet Meta back at the studio."

"No problem." Annie whipped out her phone and started texting Lauren.

"You're looking better today," Sergio said. Sometimes he was sincere.

"Thanks. I stopped with the blow."

"Oh." Sergio frowned for a moment before his expression brightened. "You have a guy?"

Annie rolled her eyes and walked out the door. "I'll be in my office."

Her phone buzzed with a reply from Lauren before she made it halfway down the hall, except when Annie looked at her phone, the text she read wasn't from her field producer. It was a text from Oksana.

I miss you already. What did you do to me?

I didn't tell you. I'm a witch, versed in the magic of seduction, Annie texted back.

You're ridiculous is what you are.

Miss you too, she replied one more time, then skipped back to her desk.

Oksana flipped through her copy of The Angels of Prairie Run. Typically, she didn't care about the material's details when she was training someone for a project, but she didn't want to miss some change in the narrative that might change the actor's appearance drastically mid-film. Paulo was almost done with his last session and then they'd talk about the next step for these particular clients.

She stretched and rubbed her head. It was time for another shave. Maybe something she and Annie could do together.

She sighed lightly and flopped sideways against Paulo's couch. She couldn't believe she told Annie she missed her. Desperate much.

You like her, stupid. And she likes you. It's okay to say it, she reminded herself. It was true. She was allowed to like someone new and she was allowed to express it. Annie was being patient without making Oksana feel like she was waiting for something. Annie was awesome.

Annie, she sighed to herself. She was acting more pathetic than Kat was over Erica.

Annie.

Oksana could not stop smiling. All day, her clients and her students had noticed how happy she seemed. And she was usually pretty fucking upbeat at the gym. Kat had called attention to her perkiness too. Kat liked Annie a lot and she made it perfectly clear during their family meeting of two over breakfast, she and

Baba Inna agreed that Annie was welcomed into the Gorinkov Organization.

Paulo's door opened and Oksana sprang upright.

"Give me two seconds, chica, and we'll talk," Paulo said as he walked into his private bathroom. They could have talked the next day, but the truth was Oksana was killing time before Annie came over. She knew if she went home she'd be pacing in the driveway waiting for Annie to show up just so they could make out for a few minutes before dinner.

A moment after the toilet flushed, Paulo popped out of the bathroom and flopped down at his desk. "So. You're dating again." His fake accent was firmly in place.

"I'm not sure we're dating exactly. More like hanging out."

"But you're happy?"

Oksana grinned like a fool. "Yes."

"She was really nice on the phone. Still good in bed?"

Oksana nodded gravely.

"Well," Paulo said. "That's good because now you won't be tempted to screw your new addition."

"Oh, we have a name?" Oksana thought the script was a courtesy from the studio. The leads were still up in the air, she thought.

"We do. Are you ready for this? Are you ready? Are you?"

"Paulo, shut up and tell me." She chuckled.

Paul leaned forward in his chair and smiled. "Are you ready?"

"I'm going to kill you. Who is it?"

"Willow Cruz."

Oksana blinked in shock.

"I know, right. Willow Cruz."

Okay, Oksana had not expected that name to come from Paulo's mouth. Willow Cruz wasn't A-list. Willow Cruz was beyond the A-list. The out-lesbian in her early forties had won her first Oscar at age nine. Two more followed. She was a notorious character actor Oksana had drooled over in countless films. She was beautiful, the definition of. She had dark features and light eyes and an amazing body. She'd actually gained thirty or so pounds for her most recent role in The Gatekeeper where she starred as a British madam in post-war London, but the weight gain just made her look more voluptuous. She was also part Russian.

There had been rumors that she was an intelligent, consummate professional and perfectionist. A flirt and a little bit of a womanizer. Just a little bit. Any woman who could tie her down had truly been gifted a golden ticket.

Thank fucking God she was "hanging out" with Annie. Willow was just the kind of woman to seduce Oksana and leave her looking like a puppy-loving fool. She was far from a star fucker. Most actors drove her crazy, but Willow was on her Celebrity Three list. She was in the number one slot.

Thank God for Annie.

Oksana sat back and tossed the script aside. "Gee. No pressure there. Who's playing Clem?"

"Did you read the script already?" Paulo looked surprised. He'd given it to her a whole two hours ago.

"No. I told you I read the book."

"Oh. Ryan Perry."

"Okay, he is hot. You're going to have fun with him."

"It'll be hard not to let him blow me, but I'll manage." They both laughed.

"When do we start?"

A light knock on the door frame interrupted their conversation. "Excuse me."

Oksana and Paulo looked toward the pleasant female voice coming from the door. There standing right inside Elite Fitness was Willow Cruz. Oksana was actually nervous. She'd never been starstruck before, but this was Willow Cruz. Come on, she was on the list.

Paulo hopped up and rushed to kiss her cheeks.

Oksana followed and shook Willow's hand as Paulo went through introductions. Willow had a firm handshake, a trait Oksana loved.

Too bad Annie's hugs are better. She smiled to herself. Luckily, Willow thought the smile was for her and not for a woman a few miles down Santa Monica Boulevard.

"Sorry. I know I'm about four days early, but I wanted to drop this off for Oksana?" Willow glanced between Oksana and Paulo then handed a folder to Oksana. She quickly flipped it open and got a glimpse at Willow's medical history. Perfectionist, right.

Willow caught on to her amazement. "I had to go through a nutritionist to put this all on. I wanted you to be in the loop before we took it all off. And then some," she added, smiling just short of winking at Oksana. Paulo noticed too.

"I'll let you two get to know each other," he said with feeling before he closed the door behind him.

"Sorry he's-"