“Zoey, get undressed,” I shout out, my cock egging me on.

She stops dead in her tracks and spins around.

“Excuse me?” Her eyes burn into mine.

“You heard me. Get undressed…and put on something comfortable. You’re coming to the set with me.”

“But—”

“There are no buts when you work for me. I believe that’s in your contract.”

She screws up her face. Damn, she’s so cute.

“Asshole! I should have poisoned your coffee!”

Things are back to normal. And I’m back in control. There’s no way I’m letting her out of my sight. I’m going to tie up my feisty assistant if I have to.

My first day back on the set couldn’t start off better. The cast and crew are overjoyed to see me. In fact, before we start shooting, there’s a little welcome back party. Nothing big or fancy—just coffee and Krispy Kreme donuts for everyone. Boxes of them. Everyone’s in a great mood, including me.

“Have a donut,” I tell Zoey. “They’re killer good.”

Dressed in jeans, sneakers, and a Kurt Kussler sweatshirt, my adorable assistant, who’s been taking everything in, eyes me as I devour a chocolate one.

“I’m trying not to eat fattening things.”

“C’mon, you’re missing out.” I help myself to another—this time, glazed. Her big brown eyes are drooling. I’m mildly amused. “Zoey, it’s an order. Have one.”

“All right. Just one.” She chooses a cream-filled one. I watch as her full lips descend on it. She takes a whopping bite and the cream spurts out. It’s like the sugarcoated donut has had an epic orgasm. She moans and swallows. It’s so damn erotic. My cock flexes while she licks her upper lip.

“Hey, you missed a spot.” I flick my index finger along her lip and then lick off the little bit of cream on my fingertip. The sweetness mixes with berry flavor of her lip-gloss. I savor the taste of her. And want a second helping.

“Thanks,” she says softly and then polishes off the donut. “That was yummy.”

You’re yummy. “C’mon, I’ll introduce you to the producer.”

To my surprise, this is Zoey’s first time ever on the set. She’s like a little kid in a candy store—wanting to experience everything. Within minutes, she meets not only Executive Producer Doug DeMille but also my co-stars, Jewel Starr, who plays my late wife Alisha, and Kellie Fox, who plays my infatuated, devoted assistant, Mel. I haven’t told her the direction the show’s going—the way the season’s going to end with Kurt falling hard for Mel. Under strict orders from network production chief, Blake Burns, everyone who attended the focus groups agreed to keep it under wraps, even from the cast and crew, so the twist I came up with wouldn’t get leaked. In this world of social media, secrets are hard to keep.

Wide-eyed Zoey cannot contain her enthusiasm. She’s especially in awe of Jewel. “Wow! You’re even prettier in person!”

Clad in a bathrobe, her blond hair in curlers, Jewel’s blue eyes twinkle with laughter. “Not for long. I’m going to look like a drowned rat after shooting my scene with Brandon.”

“Oh my God. That shower scene was—I mean, is—so amazing. I can’t wait to see it for real.”

Before the gorgeous, slightly perplexed actress can respond, she’s whisked off to hair and makeup. The rest of the crew is scuttling about, prepping for the shoot. I’m more than glad I’ve brought Zoey along. Thanks to her insane memory, she’s able to put names and positions to almost everyone. I told her during our drive here that I wasn’t going to tell anyone about my amnesia. She thought that was a good idea and assured me she could help me identify most of the crew. She studied the file she put together and went over it again with me in the car. Thank goodness, I was able to retain the names of several key crew members, including the Director, the first AD, a couple of camera guys, hair and makeup, and some helpful PAs so I wouldn’t look like a total idiot.

Just after I finish my second donut, a young freckled-face woman, wearing a headset and carrying a clipboard, jogs up to me. She must be one of the PAs. Shit. I don’t remember her name. I shoot Zoey a desperate look. She mouths the PA’s name: Janine. She’s the no-nonsense type.

“Brandon, let’s get you into hair and makeup.”

“Zo, just hang out for a while,” I say, letting the PA lead the way.

Another female voice stops me in my tracks.

“Darling!”

I pivot. My body goes rigid. Katrina! Every muscle clenches. I’m still mad as hell at her. And in fact, I’m even madder. She’s brought the fucking mutt to the set.

Holding the yapping ball of fur in her arms, she prances up to me. All eyes are on the statuesque beauty. She looks stunning, dressed in a tight hot pink sweater dress with matching thigh-high suede boots, her platinum hair cascading over her shoulders in perfect, soft waves. The little white dog is wearing a matching outfit—a same shade pink sweater along with a bow in his hair and a pink rhinestone-studded collar. An unsettling thought crosses my mind—shit, maybe they’re diamonds. I wouldn’t put that past my extravagant fiancée or to put the astronomical charge on my credit card.

“What are you doing here?” I snap, avoiding eye contact with the beast.

Katrina holds Zoey in her rabid gaze. “What’s she doing here?”

Smiling, Zoey holds her own. “Brandon invited me.”

Another PA lopes up to us with a last call for donuts. He’s holding a box with the remaining few. Zoey surveys them.

“Katrina, you should help yourself to one before they run out.”

“Puh-lease. Donuts are for peasants.” She directs her snide comment at Zoey and then smacks her mouth on mine. Coated in a bright pink lipstick, her billowy lips taste nothing like Zoey’s. I pull away. Zoey stares at her icily.

Clutching the ravenous looking dog in the crook of one arm, Katrina runs a long manicured finger around my lips. “I’m sorry, darling. I got lipstick on you.”

I grit my teeth and don’t move as she continues.

“Since I wasn’t shooting today, I thought I should come by and wish you the best of luck on your first day back on the set. Plus, I really wanted you to meet Gucci. I just know you’re going to fall in love with him.”

Him? By now, all the crew members have taken notice of Katrina and her new pretty in pink cross-dresser dog. Or should I say, our new dog? Many have gathered around to congratulate her on our engagement (and glimpse the rock I gave her) and to admire the fluffy designer mutt. Everyone’s a sucker for a cute dog. Being the center of attention, America’s It Girl is in her glory—with “It Dog.”

“Darling, why don’t you pet him?” she purrs.

I want to bark at my fiancée. Tell her to get the hell out of the studio and take the damn dog with her. But with all these people around us, it sure won’t look good to have a fight. Or for it to get out that I don’t like dogs. That’s just not the kind of publicity I need right now. Besides, I love dogs. I had a Chocolate Lab growing up. I just don’t like little yappy ones.

Hesitantly, I lower my hand to the dog’s head, but as I’m about to touch down, the mongrel growls and bares his tiny razor-sharp teeth. With a vicious snap, he almost takes off my fingers. I yank them away just in time.

“Jesus,” I mutter under my breath, happy to have my digits intact.

“Brandon, are you okay?” asks Zoey.

Katrina shoots Zoey another predatory look and then shifts her attention to me.

“Darling, he just has to get to know you better.” She makes goo-goo eyes at the monster. “You’re a very sweet little dog, right baby boy?” She kisses the still growling beast on his head, leaving an outline of her pink lips on his white fur.

The PA named Janine impatiently butts in. “Brandon, we’ve got to go. It’s getting late.”

“Katrina, I have to get ready,” I say, happy to have an excuse to get away from her. The hostile dog growls at me again. I’ve had it. This time I growl back. It whimpers. Ha! I’ll show the furry little beast who’s the alpha male around this joint.