Thursday morning, Mama neglected to call me once again. By now I was on to her. I’d seen this avoidance game before. It usually took place about the same time she reopened the door for my father to come home. No doubt I would show up at her house tomorrow night for tamales and find my father watching Wheel of Fortune. In the meantime, I could count on not hearing from her.

Oh well. There were other things a thirty-year-old woman could do on her way to work besides talk to her mama, especially when the topic of conversation usually rolled around to everyone else’s problems. I released a slow breath as I entered the traffic on the 405 and decided to talk to someone else entirely.

I ushered up a rushed prayer, part of it geared toward the traffic and the rest covering my concerns about family matters. Then I turned my attention to today’s episode, offering up a “Dear Lord, you know how important this one is to me, right?” prayer.

Superficial at best. Likely the Almighty was getting a little weary of my drive-by prayers. No doubt he was hoping for the “stop in and stay awhile” version. Still, everything in my life moved fast these days. Who had time to slow down? Slow people didn’t make progress. They didn’t have others depending on them. And they certainly didn’t survive in the industry. Or in L.A. traffic, for that matter.

I laid on my horn as a car cut in front of me. The nerve of some people. The guy in the car gave me a not-so-friendly gesture and kept going. Perfect. Just what I needed to start my day.

Hmm, what was I doing again? Oh yeah. Praying.

I tried to dive back into prayer but was consumed with thoughts about today’s filming. I still hadn’t quite figured out that sandwich bit, though I’d considered it from a dozen different angles. Maybe something would come to me. Or maybe the guys would just figure it out in the moment. Sure, that was it. I’d leave it to Brock and Scott. They’d come up with something.

See there, Tia? It feels good to let go and trust, doesn’t it? You don’t need to fix everything.

Jason’s words from yesterday suddenly flitted through my mind once again. Whether he’d meant to do it or not, the guy had convicted me. Did people really see me as a workaholic who didn’t take care of herself? Couldn’t take a break for lunch? Didn’t get enough sleep? Tried to fix everything?

I sighed. What did it matter, really, what others thought? I knew all of those things were true. Painfully, horribly true. And all because of one goal in mind—to make Stars Collide the best show in television history. If I worked harder, pored over the scripts longer, spent time strategically blocking each scene, and expected more in the way of characterization from my cast, we might just make it to the number one slot this year.

I prayed.

Or rather, I didn’t pray. I was too distracted by a sudden case of the sniffles once again. After working my way through the worst of it, I put in a quick call to my primary care doctor, who promised to send me the name of a great allergist.

By the time I arrived at the studio, I was in better spirits. I parked next to Jason’s BMW, giving it a solid look as I exited my car. Squinting, I gave it a second look. Looked like he was sleeping inside. Odd. I rapped on the window and he startled awake. Seconds later he rolled the window down and I gazed inside, trying not to laugh when I saw the hair sticking up on top of his head.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

“Oh, yeah. Just had a late night last night, so I decided to rest my eyes for a few minutes.” He yawned and stretched.

“You weren’t partying, were you?” I teased.

“Hardly.” He opened the door and stepped outside. “Remember I told you about that street church thing? I was there last night, working. I try to go at least one Wednesday night a month to serve food.” He smoothed his hair with his hands. “A lot of those street kids don’t get much to eat for the rest of the week, so those Wednesday night meals are pretty important. I like to be there. And I’ve made a few friends—not just the workers, but some of the kids. They’re really great. Just going through a hard time, most of them. Or estranged from their parents.”

“Ah.”

“It was quite a night. They had to call an ambulance for a guy who OD’d in the parking lot right in the middle of the service. Never seen anything like it, but that’s South Central for you. Anyway, I didn’t get much sleep, so I’m a little out of sorts. Hope I can pull it together on the set.”

Suddenly my insides felt shaky. “Where exactly in South Central?”

“Pretty rough neighborhood near a public park. Very different from life here in the studio, and extremely different from where I grew up. Let’s just say we don’t get a lot of that kind of action in Newport Beach.”

“Newport Beach?” Well, that explained the BMW, for Pete’s sake.

He paused and shrugged, a somber look overtaking him. “Sorry. That’s my former life. My parents are still there, but I live in an apartment in Hollywood Hills just a few minutes from here. Newport Beach is part of my past, not my present.”

I resisted the urge to say, “Must be nice,” and just nodded.

Thank goodness Jason seemed focused on work today too. “Listen, I forgot to ask you about setting up that first shot. We need to talk about lighting for the elevator scene.”

“Oh, right.” I gave him final instructions as we made our way inside the studio. Funny. Once I slipped back into director gear, I relaxed immediately.

Half an hour later, most of my cast and crew had arrived. Erin came bounding in, more excited than I’d seen her yet. “We’re filming in front of a live audience today!”

“I know.”

“I’m going to offer to run lines with Brock before he gets his hair and makeup done. That okay?” She gave me a pleading look and I nodded. Minutes later, she and Brock were seated next to each other on the set, going over every line.

I noticed Brock’s gaze lingering on Erin as they worked together. Interesting. Obviously Benita noticed too. She fussed with her hair, squared her shoulders, and headed their way, a determined look on her face. I’d seen that look before.

“Brock?” She put her hands on her hips when he didn’t answer right away. “Brock.”

He turned her way, eyes widening as he took in her short skirt and tight blouse. “Yes?”

“Time for hair and makeup.”

“Oh.” He grimaced. “We were just running my lines. Can you give me a few more minutes?”

Benita eased the script out of Erin’s hand. “Oh, don’t worry about that. I’ll run lines with you while we get you ready. That way we can kill two birds with one stone.”

Was it my imagination, or had she glared at Erin while saying “kill two birds with one stone”?

Undeterred, Benita continued. “Sound good?”

I half expected Erin to whop Benita upside the head. Instead, in her usual gracious and good-humored way, my easygoing production assistant shrugged and headed across the room to help with the children. Brock watched her until Benita started talking again.

“Well, c’mon.” Benita giggled. “We’ve got to turn you into a Greek talent scout. Can’t wait to show you what I’ve got in mind. Hope you don’t mind if I thicken your brows a bit. And you’re going to love the mustache. No one will even know it’s fake.”

“Hey, as long as your plan doesn’t involve eyeliner, I’m okay with it.” Brock laughed. “You wouldn’t believe what I’ve been through. I had to do this one gig down in Texas that required wearing tights. Never again!”

“I remember when you were filming in Texas. I read all about it in The Scoop. Weren’t you dating some wedding planner or something?”

“No, we never dated. She ended up marrying a guy named D.J. But you know how the tabloids are. They never get a story right.”

“Yeah. But I read them anyway. They’re so much fun.” Benita’s giggles echoed across the set as they disappeared down the hallway.

I went back to work, setting up for the day. By ten o’clock, the doors opened for our studio audience, and the seats began to fill pretty quickly. No matter how many times I went through this, having a live audience behind me still made me a little nervous. Added extra pressure I didn’t need. On the other hand, pressure always caused me to up my game.

Filming for a thirty-minute show took a lot more than thirty minutes, even on the best of days. We averaged three hours at best, and that was just for the actual filming, not the prep work or the dailies.

The studio audience added an entirely new dimension to the process. Though we instructed them not to bring food, cell phones, or other things that might serve as a distraction, they arrived with them anyway. It was always such a nuisance to have to do a retake because of an interruption from someone in the audience, but we’d grown used to it.

While the hair and makeup folks worked their magic on my cast, we did a quick run-through with stand-ins. By the time Kat, Scott, Brock, and the others emerged in front of the live audience, there was an electricity in the air I hadn’t sensed in a while. Yes, this episode was definitely going to be magical.

We set up the first scene, and with my heart in my throat, I called, “Action.” The cameras began to film, and we were on our way with the first shot in the elevator. My actors’ performances went above and beyond my expectations, and the response from the audience was energizing. I hadn’t heard this much laughter in ages. Perfect.

Well, mostly perfect. We had to do a second take of the last minute or so because I started sneezing. Great.

With the first shot behind us, I set up for the next. Then the next and the next. A couple of shots had to be redone, but we sailed through them the second time around. By the time we ended, Kat and Scott—as bunny-clad Angie and Jack—were holding a real, live baby boy in their arms, and the audience was celebrating as if the whole thing had been real. And the sandwich-wrestling scene had been the very best part! Thank goodness I’d left it up to the guys.

See, Tia? You don’t have to direct everything.

The celebration continued long after the audience members left. I’d never seen my cast and crew so ecstatic over a performance. I checked in with Jason to make sure we didn’t need to do any retakes, then—after his assurance—dismissed the children for the day. Suddenly I felt like celebrating. Eating chocolate. Drinking sugar-filled soda. Wrestling sandwiches with the hunkiest cameraman in town.

Instead, I quietly crossed the set and took a seat on the sofa next to Kat, still decked out in her bunny suit from head to toe. “Girl, that was the best acting job I’ve ever seen. You actually looked like you were in labor.”

She smiled and rubbed the stomach of her costume. “Felt like it too. I’ve been having those crazy Braxton Hicks contractions. They’re a pain. Literally.” She laughed. “Anyway, I’ll be glad to get out of this getup and home in a tub. My back’s giving me grief today.”

I rubbed her tummy, and the baby lurched beneath my hand, startling me. “Yikes. Never felt that before.”

“She’s been pretty quiet today, actually. I was starting to wonder if she planned to sleep all day.” Kat yawned. “That’s what I plan to do—after a good, long bath, anyway.”

“If anyone deserves a break, you do. I can’t imagine working in your condition.” A wave of emotion washed over me. “We’re going to miss you around here over the next few weeks. I know we’ve got a great plan of action for the show, but it’s just not going to be the same without you. Can’t wait to have you back in the fall.”

“Aw, thanks.” Her eyes puddled. “I feel the same way. But I know my time is up. This little girl has filled my dance card for the next few weeks. Things are as they should be. And the timing is perfect, what with the season coming to an end in a couple months.”

“Yeah.” I shrugged, not really understanding but pretending to.

Kat patted my arm. “You’ll get it someday, Tia. A great man is going to come along and sweep you off your feet, and the next thing you know, you’ll be married and expecting a little one.”

“Can’t imagine it.” I shuddered. “Besides, I practically raised my younger brothers and sister, so my child-rearing years can wait, believe me.”

“You’ll change your mind.” She gave me an encouraging nod. “Trust me when I say that my whole world has been flipped upside down over the past year or so. Life has a way of doing that to you.” Her expression shifted, and she released a breath.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Yeah.” She rubbed her midsection and sighed. “Just tight as a drum. You know how it is in the ninth month.”

“Actually, I don’t.”

She laughed. “No, I guess not. Anyway, I’d better get out of this crazy costume and head home. You headed upstairs to watch the dailies?”

“Yep.”

“Well, get some rest. You’re looking exhausted.”

“It’s the house. I’m renovating.” For whatever reason, I suddenly felt like sneezing. The “a-a-a-choo!” that followed was impressive, to say the least.

“Just more proof that you need to rest.” She gave me a pensive look. “Have you been watching those home improvement shows again?”

“I record several of them, but I usually fall asleep late at night watching them. Between my work here and the renovations at home, I’m swamped.”

“No time left over for a love life then?” She gave me a little pout.

“Hardly.” My gaze shifted to Jason, who stood next to Erin and Brock on the far side of the room. He glanced my way and smiled.

Kat leaned my way and whispered her next words. “Having a career is great. Can’t deny it. But Tia, one of these days you’re going to wish you’d slowed down long enough to let love in.”

Her words felt like a sucker punch. I tried not to let my feelings show, but she’d hurt me. Deeply. Did she think I didn’t love people? Was I really such a workaholic that she thought I’d never find happiness outside the studio?

Would I?

The very thought left me reeling.

I managed to excuse myself and signaled for Erin to join me. As we made our way up the stairs to the room where I’d watch the film clips from today’s show, I tried to put on a brave face. Still, I couldn’t help but reflect on what Kat had said. Was I really so caught up in my career that I didn’t have time left over for love? If so, could I go on living like that . . . forever?

As we entered the theater, I reached for my phone and noticed I’d missed a call from the doctor. After listening to his message, I scribbled down the name of the allergist he recommended. Maybe I could get these sneezing fits behind me.

“You okay, Tia?” Erin cast a concerned look my way.

“I’m . . . well, I’m a little tired. Aren’t you? It’s been a long day.”

“Are you kidding?” She turned in a circle, nearly giddy. “I feel like this is my home, the place where I was bound to end up. Don’t you?”

“Hmm?” I glanced back at my phone then shoved it in my purse. “Oh, yeah.”

“What made you want to be a director, Tia? Have you always wanted to do this?”

“I . . . I don’t know. From the time I was a teen, anyway.” I settled into one of the chairs.

Erin remained standing. “Do you think there’s something inside us even as little girls that makes us want to tell others what to do?” She chuckled. “My mother says I was always a little bossy. What about you?”

“Oh, I’m not sure bossy is the right word. I’ve just always been one to take charge, especially when no one else would.”

And trust me, in my world very few people were willing to take charge.

“Well, I for one love the whole idea of it, from start to finish. Taking a script and envisioning what it’s going to look like through the eye of the camera. Helping the actors with their lines. Fine-tuning their inflections, rhythm, and so on. Helping them pace their lines with the other actors. Oh, and I love the idea of blocking a scene—deciding where everyone should stand and how the set should be arranged. And now I get to watch the dailies. I’ll be the very first person to ever see what was filmed. Along with you, I mean.” She sighed. “It’s all so wonderful.”

I nodded, though her enthusiasm did give me reason to pause. She reminded me of myself just after film school. Had I really become so jaded over the years? Nothing about this process felt as amazing as it once had.

Erin snapped her fingers. “I think I know why it sounds so magnificent.” She clasped her hands together. “It’s almost like we get to create our own world, one where funny stories come to life and everyone lives happily ever after. I’ve always loved happily ever afters. Haven’t you?”

“I . . . I suppose I have.” I thought about that. The resolution—the part of the story where everything worked out in the end—was always the part I fretted over the most. How many times had I sent a script back to the writers for a stronger resolution? But why?

Because the very idea of a happily ever after seems impossible to you.

The words flitted through my mind, but I could hardly believe them. Didn’t every girl long for a happy ending to her life’s story?

My heart twisted, and I realized the truth. With all I’d faced at home—watching my father break Mama’s heart time after time—I’d given up on happily ever afters. That’s why none of the endings felt real. I’d never seen one played out in the real world. So how could I possibly direct one?

“Tia?” Erin’s brow wrinkled. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Hmm? Oh, no. I, um . . .” I glanced at my watch. “I think it’s time to get going on these dailies. You ready?”

“Always! I live for this.” She plopped down on the sofa and threw her arms back in dramatic fashion. “It’s been the best day in television history. That whole experience was like going to Disney World. And the icing on the cake? I got to spend the day with Brock Benson. Every hour was like a minute. Every minute was like a second. Every second was like a nanosecond.”

I put my hand up. “Okay, okay, I get it. He’s pretty amazing.”

“You can say that again.” She sighed and leaned back against the sofa cushions.

“He’s pretty amazing.” I giggled. Before long, we were both laughing.

Rex joined us moments later, the soft wrinkles in his face growing more pronounced as he looked on. “You two okay?”

I did my best to get it together. “Um, yeah. We’re fine. Just talking about . . .” I bit my lip to keep from saying what.

“Just talking about . . .” Erin echoed, then burst into laughter.

Rex shook his head. “Never mind. I have a feeling I don’t want to know.” He took me by the hand. “But it’s great to see you smiling for a change, Tia.”

Ouch. Smiling for a change? Was I really as somber as all that?

My giddy mood changed immediately as I pondered the words people had spoken to me today. First Kat hit me out of the blue with that line about being too focused on my career, now this?

Rex glanced at his watch. “I’ll have to rush through the process tonight, ladies. I don’t know if you noticed, but Lenora’s not doing very well today. She’s exhausted. Kat and Scott are going to take her to their place in a little while, but I don’t want to leave her for long.”

Erin looked his way with the sweetest expression on her face. “Rex, I think you’re an amazing husband. I really do.”

“Being married to Lenora is the easy part. Watching her struggle with her memory . . .” His eyes filled with tears. “Well, that’s the tough part. But she’s in good hands with Kat. I never worry when those two are together. But Kat’s exhausted too. I can see it in her eyes. She needs to rest.”

He pushed a button, and we watched as the bits we’d recorded played against the big screen. I found myself laughing out loud as I watched the delivery scene in the elevator. The writers would be tickled pink when they saw what a great job the actors had done with their script. Every single line, every single nuance was there.

About twenty minutes into the dailies, my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number but answered, thinking it might be the doctor or allergist.

“Tia, we need you on the set.” Jason’s voice startled me.

“I’m up in the viewing room with Rex and Erin, looking over the dailies.”

“I know, but that’s going to have to wait.” In the background, I heard the strangest sound—sort of a squeal. Or maybe panting.

“What in the world is going on down there?” I signaled for the film to stop, then sat up straight.

“I’m not sure you would believe me if I told you.” His next words were rushed, laced with nervous energy. “You know how they say that life sometimes imitates art?”

“Sure.” I smiled as I glanced at the screen, which had frozen mid-scene just as Kat, as Angie, held the baby in her arms for the first time.

“It’s happening. Right now. In the studio. Kat is—” He was gone for a moment, then came back, sounding frantic. “We just called 911.” Another pause followed. “Tia, she’s asking for you. I’m not kidding. You guys need to get down here. She’s having the baby.”