I think maybe it didn’t make you look so good. I mean, with my crack about the dress and the bar and all. I know you don’t get dressed up in women’s costumes, but I thought it would be really funny

at the time, that is.”

“And I told you it was funny.”

Hannah stared at Burke, willing him to quit, but Burke didn’t seem to know how to stop. “Then

no hard feelings?” he asked.

“No hard feelings.” Dean stood up and yawned. “Come along, Sharyn. I’m going up to bed. We have an early call tomorrow. Seven o’clock, my office. I want Erica and her two school chums. They’ve already been notified.”

“Not me?” Burke asked, gulping slightly.

“You’re not in that scene, Burke. I’ll see you on the set at ten.”

Hannah held her breath until Dean walked out the door and then she released it in a long sigh.

“Are you okay?” Ross asked.

“I’m fine. I’m just relieved, that’s all. The fallout wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. I expected Dean to keelhaul Burke in Sally’s new koi pond.”

“Dean wouldn’t do that. He’s a pro and he knows we need Burke to finish the picture.”

“But he was just putting a good face on it, right? I mean, he’s mad at Burke, isn’t he?”

“I don’t know. Dean’s lived in Hollywood long enough to know that almost any publicity is good publicity. And Burke mentioned Dean’s name and the name of the film several times. Of course Dean didn’t like the reference to women’s costumes, but Burke did say that he was a genius and Dean’s bound to like that part of it. It’s a mixed bag, but my guess is that Dean’ll take it in stride.”

“Just one cup of coffee,” Hannah said, climbing up the stairs to her condo two hours later. They’d stayed for the late night snacks Sally had put out after the news and chatted with some of the cast and crew. Before they’d realized it, almost two hours had passed and Hannah had told Ross that she had to go home. “And right after your coffee, I have to get to bed. I need to get my sleep tonight.”

Ross gave her a teasing grin. “You’d never make it in showbiz. There are nights that I have to deal with only six hours’ sleep.”

“Six hours’ sleep is good. On most nights, I don’t get more than five.”

“It’s been as little as four for me.”

“And three for me. And last night, I got only two!”

“Really? But why was that?” Ross asked, breaking the chain of one-downmanship.

“Moishe. He must have been nervous, because he got up to eat every hour on the hour. And then he used his litterbox.”