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lean, dark, mysterious Kostas, played by daytime heartthrob Antonio Lopez. His beautiful face lit up the covers of the soap opera weeklies, his wide, white smile and smokey eyes tucking into your soul and giving a joyous little squeeze. I had to agree with the viewers—Antonio was magnifico, despite the fact that he had never paid much attention to me, perhaps due to the fact that he had spent most of the last year sucking up to Deanna. Smart man. From his first day on the set, he buttered her up like a Thanksgiving turkey, and she lapped up the attention. Gobble, gobble.
    And I must begrudgingly admit, the heat was rising from their scenes together. Although Deanna is probably a good ten years older than Antonio, they were a hot soap opera couple until her character learned that he had once killed a man in a Salvadoran prison ... and that man just happened to be her brother. Or maybe it was her father? I wasn’t paying close attention. Who could focus when Antonio’s tan, rippled muscles were flexing against the satin bedsheets?
    â€œExcuse me, Percy?” Rory called to the director, stretching his hands over the keyboard. “Sorry to interrupt, but can I take five? I need to”—he lowered his voice to a stage whisper—“use the facilities.”
    â€œGood God, man! You took the words from my mouth!” Horwitz exclaimed, shoving a cigarette into his mouth and striding toward the door. “I shall return!”
    â€œDon’t go far!” Percy called, pressing his hands to his jowls. He took the clipboard from Sean’s hands and checked the schedule. “Next time I agree to tape an episode with a group scene, please, just shoot me.”
    Amused, Sean scratched the soul patch on his chin. “Whatever you say, boss.”
    I stood up and began to stretch and do some yoga twists. I was sucking in energy air when someone jabbed me in the ribs.
    Rory flashed me a sneaky grin and chanted, “Nanny, nanny, foo-foo, you get to kiss Antoonioo.”
    I grabbed his shoulders. “Would you put a cork in it?” Fortunately, Antonio had left the set for the moment. “Lucky he’s gone, or I’d have to kill you on the spot.”
    â€œI think he likes you,” Rory teased, his blue eyes flashing.
    â€œDon’t be silly. He’s more your type.”
    â€œNo, no, no! I have it from a reliable source that Mr. Lopez is quite hetero. Score one for your team.” Rory is sort of a daytime TV pioneer, having revealed his sexual orientation eight years ago at a time when it could have cost him future roles, but fortunately, viewers responded with approval. Since then, he’s become a fixture on the show.
    â€œYou are such a troublemaker,” I told him.
    â€œI’m not kidding, Hailey. Antonio is hot for you. I hear he’s got a poster of you taped up in his dressing room.”
    â€œWould you stop it now?” I smoothed down the ugly ruffled teal shirt of my costume and dabbed at my forehead with the back of my hand. “How do I look? Got any Altoids?”
    He reached behind the bar and produced a tin of cinnamon-flavored, my favorite.
    â€œWhy, thank you!”
    â€œShh! I stole them from props. And you look glam, despite the unfortunate costume choice. When is Jodi going to stop dressing you like a moray eel?”
    â€œAs soon as the diva realizes I’m not a threat.” I popped a breath mint and smiled. “Curiously strong.”
    â€œAre you nervous?” he prodded, leaning across the bar. “I think he likes you.”
    â€œGet out!”
    â€œI’m serious.” He cocked an eyebrow. “For once in my life.”
    â€œReally?” I stole a glance back at the booth where Antonio had been sitting. Still empty. “Do you mean ‘like’? Or ‘like-like’?”
    â€œHoney, I’m talking throw you down and—”
    â€œOK, OK, you don’t have to draw a