4

WORK IS hectic the next day. I can't concentrate properly, and the lead actress is on her period, which means that she's extra bitchy, and a big pain to work with. I hate working with her sometimes. She thinks that she's all that just because she won a few Emmys and Oscars, all with my help, thank you very much. She'd still be doing soap operas if it wasn't for my help and guidance on set.

I lean back in my office chair, as I look at that email from Bethany. I assume that she's extremely anxious. I'm extremely anxious to see her again. For crying out loud, I'm a grown woman fawning over a little girl. I can't tell my kids how I feel about this girl, because they'll push me to date her, which I know, as a mother, is not the right choice.

Sighing, I spin my chair around, when I hear a knock on my office door, "come in," I call, as I position myself appropriately.

One of my actresses walks in, and she's wearing a huge frown on her face, "I need to be in the spotlight more," she groans. I inhale a breath and sit back, not in the mood to deal with her bickering. It's not your TV show, for god's sake! I can't help you because I'm not the frickin' screenwriter!

"Millie, I already told you that I can't help you with that. Go talk to Anderson," she sits down and pouts.

"But you can make me stand out, it's your job to."

I rub my temples, "I do what's best for the tv show, not what's best for you. I try my best to help you already. If you're not satisfied, go talk to the screenwriter!"

She huffs and storms out of my office. Just because I'm nice, they think that they can walk all over me. I open Bethany's email on my computer, and send her a reply, asking her to come in for an interview the next day. I double check my calendar to make sure that I have free time to do so.

Getting up, I head out of my office, since our fifteen minute break is over, and it's back to filming.

"SASKIA, I want your outrage to radiate off of your facial features, red cheeks for me, and narrow those big, blue eyes," I move the camera, so that the perspective is at her side. Perfect. Just like that. At least she follows my instructions, if not anything else.

When we're done for the day, I'm relaxing on the couch in my office, extremely exhausted.

"Xo?" The screenwriter walks in, and he grabs a seat next to me, "I'm so over these actresses," he groans and I do too.

"Millie talked to you?" I ask. Anderson nods and sighs. I place my head on his lap and yawn. He's gay, so I'm pretty comfortable with him. If he was straight, it would be a different story.

"She does realize that she's just a recurring character, right?" He mumbles. I smile and shake my head. It doesn't seem like she does, "we need to get laid. All this work stress is killing me," he moves my hair from under my head, and starts running his fingers through it.

"I need a long vacation, alone."

"I need a long vacation, with my handsome husband. We haven't had decent sex since Nathaniel was adopted. That boy cries all the time!"

I laugh and stretch my arms above my head, "it's your third kid. I'd think you would get used to it by now," he caresses my cheek with his thumb, and shakes his head.

"Never gets boring in my house though. The kids want to go to Disney World, again. How many times does one need to hug Mickey Mouse?" I sit up, and look at the distraught on his face. He's a Grindr success story, eight years and counting.

"I'm heading home to my empty house, tell Michael and the kids hi for me," he nods, as I grab my handbag and overcoat.

"See you bright and early tomorrow, Xo," he nudges me, as we both exit my office. I lock my door with the key, and we head in opposite directions. When I make it to my car, I'm thinking about Bethany again. I'm going to see her tomorrow. I inhale a deep breath, trying to calm myself down.

Should I text her? Of course not. I did receive her phone number in her portfolio, but I can't use it. It would be weird. She's probably already forgotten about me, and off to bed an actual cougar. That hurts my ego a bit. I slide into the front seat of my car, and turn on the engine.

"I need lots of wine, and that ole' vibe to get my thoughts in order," I mumble to no one. Who would I say that to anyway?

All of my kids will be under one roof for the entire weekend, and that's something to look forward to. I hope that Christopher didn't get any more piercings, and he's taken a liking to tattoos even. That boy and his rebellion. His brother is the opposite, probably because he's afraid of needles.

I have great kids though. All of them are ambitious, and only smoke pot recreationally. If I could make them not smoke at all, I would. But that'll just make them go behind my back even more, and I need to supervise them as much as I can, even though they're adults, and have to make their own life choices. Jane is the only one who's never tried drugs. She's always been a goody two shoes.

When I make it home, I enter my house, and head straight into the kitchen. Grabbing a bottled water from the fridge, I turn on the television, and watch the news, as I lean against the kitchen island. That's when I receive a text from my ex-wife. What does she want?

Petah: I'm outside.

I sigh, as I turn off the television, and look through the kitchen window. I see her car, and also notice her leaning against it. When I open the front door, she walks over and enters. I follow her, and we head into the living room.

"Why are you here, Petah?"

She takes off her jacket, and grins at me. I can see that she's aged a bit, since the last time I saw her. They're a few more lines beside her eyes, and I'm not oblivious to the greys in between her blonde hair. I used to dye her hair for her. Seemingly, her new conquests don't do the same.

"You're turning forty-nine, Xo. How could I miss the celebration," my eyes lose interest, and I walk into the kitchen, knowing that she'll follow me.

"There's not going to be a celebration. Did you celebrate your forty-ninth?" I look at her from where I'm standing. She spent the day with the kids, but I know that she was off with some woman in the night, "you know what, don't answer that," I raise my hand to stop her, knowing that I probably won't like her answer.

She's always honest with me, which I greatly appreciate. But I don't want to know her recently updated body count, "oh, come on, babe. You have to celebrate. One more year before the big fifty," I cringe and suck the distaste out of my tongue. Babe? I haven't been your babe in nine years. I also don't appreciate her reminding me about my fiftieth birthday.

"Petah, where are you staying?" I decide to ask, to draw the topic away from where it is.

"Probably with Jane. I haven't told them that I'm back from New York yet. You think it's a good surprise?" Petah is a celebrity manager for the famous, Aria Reynolds, which means she travels constantly. They're always on music tours, and even book signings. I try not to stay up-to-date with the goings of Petah's life, since I've tried to move on for years.

"Just don't give anyone a heart attack, especially me," I know she'll stay out of my way when I ask, since she mostly visits just to spend time with the kids.

"Xo, you act like you're turning seventy," maybe I am. That's how I feel.

"You're going to turn fifty before me, how do you feel?" I ask.

She shrugs, as I grab my water from the counter. Petah's only a few months older than me, but she acts as though she's in her twenties, "like a million bucks. I just need to drop in by the hairdresser, and get these greys covered up. Work's been so hectic that I haven't gotten the chance," I bet that doesn't stop all the girls from fawning all over her. She's into younger women, but from what I know, never under thirty-five. She apparently has a rule to not to sleep with anyone close to Jane's age. That alone makes me feel guilty.

"How's the girlfriend?" I ask her.

She groans, and heads over to the fridge, "I'm single, babe," she turns and smiles widely at me. I know what she's thinking, and I'm definitely not in the mood.

"How come? The kids loved her," I'm being sarcastic, of course. Petah saunters over to me, and places her hands on my hips. When her lips touch the side of my neck, I sigh.

"Really? They hate the ground Kim walks on, and now I do too," she slips her hand under my blouse, and runs her fingers up my torso.

"Petah," I place my hand on her shoulders, and push her back. The lust in her eyes is tempting, but it isn't healthy to have sex with your ex, even though we've already done it a few times over the years.

"We're both single, aren't we?"

I nod, making her pull me in for a kiss. As my lips touch hers, I don't feel the slightest emotion. It isn't the same as the lips that devoured me that Saturday night, where I was left breathless. Time has caused my love for Petah to fade away, including all sincere emotions. But I let her have me anyway. It might help me forget about those lips that I can't stop thinking about, even though Petah's are nothing close in comparison.

Why am I comparing? Petah begins to unbutton my jeans, and I lean my head back, while closing my eyes. Am I really that attracted to Bethany? Can I actually pursue a relationship with her? I wrap my arms around Petah's neck, and force myself to get lost in the moment, for that would make me not think about that beautiful brunette for at least a few minutes.