After the show is over I step outside to find an immense crowd of paparazzi, teenage girls and other autograph seekers surrounding the backstage door. The NYPD has barricades set up and officers posted to manage the masses. I hate crowds but have no other choice than to immerse myself in this one.

Deciding to steer clear of the photographers, I gently push my way through the gaggles of girls. Ignoring their dirty looks and nasty comments, I approach the first police officer I see. "Excuse me sir. I need to get to the stage door. I'm supposed to see Fin Covington." He doesn't take his eyes off the pulsating mass of people. "Yeah sure... You and everybody else here..."

"Really Officer, I swear it. If you just let me knock on the door, I can prove it. I'm sure he's left my name with security. Or you can knock on the door for me..." Finally he gives me a cursory glance. "Sorry. I have strict orders from my Sergeant. Nobody gets past this barricade and I'm not moving from my post. Gotta make sure this crowd doesn't get crazy and surge..." His eyes sweep the group again and I look around myself to see if there's anyone threatening I should be aware of. "Ok. I understand. Thank you."

My buzz is completely worn off by now and I don't have the patience for this nonsense. The throng is starting to swallow me up again and push me toward the outer fringes. As much as I want to bail, I can't, because I know Eric will freak out if I stand up our biggest client. So I hold my ground and take my phone out. The battery is nearly dead and I wonder what could go wrong next.  I press Fin's number and plug my other ear so I can hear over the noise. I can't tell if the phone is ringing at first but then to my immense relief I hear his voice. "Millie? Where are you?"

I plug my free ear and yell into my cell. "I'm outside. The cops won't let me past the barricades and my phone is about to die." When Fin talks, he sounds like he is in a tin can. "Which side are you on? What are you wearing?" I stand on my tiptoes searching for any recognizable landmark to offer him. "I'm on the right when you come out of the door. I'm in a red dre..." And then my phone dies. I clench my jaw and mutter. "Fan-fucking-tastic! This night just keeps on getting better and better."

Suddenly the multitude around me erupts into squeals and camera flashes.  I look up from my dead phone to see Fin standing in the open stage door. His hair is wet and he's wearing a white terrycloth robe. He waves at the crowd and they scream louder. They wave back using their home-made posters and signs as flags. I can tell he's struggling to find me through the commotion. I'm bobbing and weaving to stay visible and trying desperately not to get shoved further back behind the hysterical girls.

Fin steps outside with a giant security guard next to him. He puts his fingers to his lips to try to shush everyone. Then he waves his hands downwards in the universal gesture of 'quiet down' before he yells out. "If you calm down a bit I can stay out here for a minute and sign some things."

Instantly the volume decreases by a decibel and Fin starts on the right hand side. He makes some chit-chat with the fans as he autographs whatever is handed to him, but I see he's distractedly scanning the crowd for me. After another handful of signatures and selfies, he finally spots me and points me out to the bodyguard. The gigantic man comes over to the cop I spoke with. The poor guy's eyes grow wide as he realizes that I told him the truth. He parts the crowd to pull me the rest of the way through.

Once I'm beside the barricade again, I realize that now I need to get to the other side of it. My options are stooping beneath it or climbing it. Neither one is very appealing in my dress and heels. As I stand there immobilized with indecision, Fin appears directly in front of me. He's smirking. "Problem?" I nod my head. "Over or under?" He laughs and then takes my bag from my shoulder. He hands it to the bodyguard. Before I can register what is happening, he leans over and literally sweeps me off my feet. As he brings me across the obstacle, the cameras are strobing intensely.

When he puts my feet back on the ground, I realize the paparazzi are screaming questions at us both. "What's your name? What happened to the blonde from last week Fin? Who's the lady in red?  Is this your new girlfriend? Picking up girls from the crowd now Fin? Are you naked under that robe? Fin look here..."

I hide my face behind my hand and my hair. Security escorts me into the theatre. I hear Fin behind us. "Sorry, that's all for tonight. You know paps, when you don't play nicely you spoil the fun for the fans because now I have to go back inside."

The stage door slams behind him and I've got spots in front of my eyes in the dark corridor. I know they are from the flashes but they remind me of the way I feel before I faint. I start to shake. Then Fin's strong arm is around my shoulder. "C'mon to my dressing room and let's get you a drink."

He brings me to a velvet loveseat, shuts the door and turns to pour something between two glasses. "Whiskey's all I've got in here." Fin hands me a glass full of amber liquid but my hands are shaking so badly it's sloshing all around and there's no way I can bring it to my mouth.

"Jesus Millie! You're really not okay." He kneels in front of me and takes the glass from my hands again. He puts it on the side-table and pulls me into his arms. Fin strokes my hair and rubs my back while he whispers. "It's okay... It's okay... I forgot how scary the first time is... You were perfect... Deep breaths... That's it love... In... and out..."

I'm still too freaked out to be turned on by his tender attentions. But as I follow his directions, soon the quaking slows down and the terror ebbs away. My face is cradled in the crook of his neck the way I wanted it to be the last time he hugged me. I murmur. "You smell so good." He chuckles and I realize that I've just said those words aloud. I lift my head from his shoulder but he doesn't let me go. He looks down at himself before he speaks. "You caught me fresh out of the shower when you called."

Then I look down too and realize that somehow I'm kneeling on the floor with him and his robe is partly open. My cleavage is tight against his bare pecs, his chest hair tickling me. Now I notice that my hands are clutching the collar of his robe and I'm not sure when that happened either. I look up and ours eyes meet. Tonight his are espresso. They supercharge my blood and I can feel his heart pumping hard in his chest. His eyebrows dip down and he bites his lip. His erection is pressed against me and I know the question that's on his mind. Fin leans forward ever so slightly. "Millie..."

There's a loud rap on the door and we both jump. "Fin, your car is here!"

I throw my head back and start to laugh because it reminds me of the charade I pulled off with Eric earlier today. I wonder if Fin asked someone to knock and interrupt us. But he growls, clearly annoyed with the person behind the door, and I know that he isn't playing that game with me. He yells at the closed door. "Tell him we'll be out in a few minutes." I cock my head at him. "We?"

Fin stands and helps me up. I sit down on the velvet and he picks up his glass of whiskey again. "Well I thought you understood that my invitation extended to the after-party." I pick my rocks glass back up from the end table. "Oh. I actually didn't realize that. I... um... I'm not sure that's such a good idea."

I sip the whiskey and grimace. But then its fire races past my throat and hits my stomach, releasing some more of my jitters. So I try another taste. It goes down easier this time. Fin picks up his drink. "Why not?"

I frown. "A whole host of reasons."

"Let's start with one..." He swallows his entire glass in one gulp.

I hold one finger aloft. "It's late and I live on Staten Island."

"I'll get you a car. Next..." He pours himself another two fingers and sips it.

I put up my second finger. "The blonde from last week..."

"My cousin Claire who was visiting from England, no worries there..." He rubs the bridge of his nose.

I blush and laugh nervously. "Oh."

He lifts his eyebrows. "Got anything else?"

A third finger goes up. "The paparazzi."

He sighs. "If I let them stop me from doing things, I'd never get anything done. I know how to handle them. You'll be fine. So..."

Up goes my pinky. "My job." I gulp down my whiskey and hold out my glass so he can add another splash to it.

Fin arches his eyebrow at me. "What about it?"

I swirl the drink around in my hand as I struggle to find the correct words. "Well if I get... um... if we... well you know..."

Fin pulls on a pair of jeans under his robe. Then he takes it off and stands before me completely bare-chested.

I empty my glass again and he takes it from me. He folds down the four fingers of my hand into a fist. Then he pulls me to my feet by my wrist and stares into my eyes once more. "They can't dictate that sort of thing... They can't tell you who you can get involved with Millie."

I punch the fist into my other palm. "Actually, they can... I signed an employment contract and if I get involved with a client physically or romantically I can get fired. It doesn't say it in those exact words, but it is common knowledge that it falls under the section on conflicts of interest."

Fin steps closer to me. "That's bollocks!" His whiskey-laced breath rushes across my collarbone. I decide it is even better than actually having another drink.

"It is what it is. I knew what I signed up for." I look down at the floor to avoid looking at his face or his body. It will only further weaken my quickly diminishing good sense. "Fin, I've worked my ass off for the past two years and I can't have it go to waste..."

Now his hands are on my waist. "Millie, I'm your servant. Tell me what you want to do."

Suddenly I feel like a whining child. "So I'm Hamm to your Clov? Is that it? I suppose it's fitting. I am paralyzed... tied to my desk chair and wheeling about everyday! And tonight I was blinded by the paparazzi... "

Fin rests his forehead against mine. "You certainly are the most vulnerable and the most powerful in this situation."

I gently remove his hands and turn away, looking for my bag. "So then if we've already lost, the only thing left to do is let the last few moves play out... I should go."

"If that's what you want, let me get your book." He steps away and picks it up from the makeup table. Then he gets my bag and brings both items to me.

I put my bag on the loveseat to open it. "You know Fin, you were truly wonderful tonight. Both in the show and..." As I start to put the book away, Fin stops my hand. He pulls out my script. "What's this?" He flips through it. I blush and reach to take it back. "Just something I've been working on... " Fin sits down with it. "Can I read it?" I sit next to him. "I've only just finished the first draft. I was going to start editing this weekend. That's why I printed it out at work. A paper copy helps me see thing s that I missed on the screen." I place my hand on top of the pages like it's a Bible. "I can't afford to print it at home. No paper... no ink..." I'm embarrassed by my confession until Fin puts his hand on top of mine. He smiles at me. "I'm good at returning things. I can give you notes."

A tiny motion of my head indicates my acquiescence. "I'm trusting you..." He cradles the script against his chest and takes out his phone. "I'll have the driver that's waiting take you home. I can get another car."

I lean over and kiss his cheek. "Thank you Fin."