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At that moment, my affection had changed from loving her to being in love with her.

"That's a wrap! Thanks, folks," the director shouted out.

With no small measure of relief, I made my way over to the director, the ad agency executives, and "The Client,"

as they were referred to, and congratulated them all, shaking hands and giving the ladies the Hollywood kiss;

air kisses on both cheeks as befitted our symbolic close personal friendship, paying careful attention so no actual personal contact was made.

"It's going to be great, Mike!" the director assured. "We MUST work together again!"

In your dreams buster. "Absolutely. Call my agent," I suggested with a smile, even though I didn't have one; another no-no in Hollywood.

I greeted the blindingly bright, sunny outdoors, squinting after a long day inside the dark sound stage, inhaled the delicately smog-scented air, and made for my car.

I'd abandoned my Mini Cooper after Rufus joined the family. It was too small.

My new pride and joy awaited me, shiny and black, sun flashing off the restored chrome work, with whitewall tires adding to its authenticity – an out of place value amongst the glitterati.

Standing at the tail end of the perfectly restored 1962 Cadillac four window Sedan DeVille was my ever-loyal assistant, Peter, holding Rufus' leash like it was a plague infested snake.

"He pissed on your car," Peter announced, handing me the leash.

Rufus, having grown like a damn weed, jumped at me, proving puppy classes were an owner's wishful thinking more than a puppy's education.

I rubbed the soft fur on his head. "Anything that needs attention before I head home?" I asked Peter.

He pulled out his iPhone, tapped and swiped. "Got a call from Chris Hemsworth's agent. Chris apparently read the script to your latest movie, Even Angels Cry, and wants to play Cory in the lead role."

"How'd he get a hold of the script?"

Peter studied Rufus.

I sighed. "He's an action star. Why would we want him? The movie's a fantasy romance."

Peter looked at me with the expression he gets when I'm missing something, which happens frequently. "I know what the movie is, Mike. But Chris is hot right now.

He'll draw audiences, especially the important young female crowd. He needs to expand his repertoire, so we could get him without forking over millions."

"Who would he play against? Who plays Mia?" I asked. "There needs to be some serious chemistry there."

"I'll think about it. Maybe talk to Gracey. She's pretty good at casting."

I turned around in a circle to unwind the leash and opened the back door to my restored Caddy. Rufus leapt in. "Okay, talk to her.

But no response to Chris until we find a co-star." I glanced at my watch. "Shit! I'm going to be late. Get in."

The heavy V8 purred into life. Power steering, as light as a feather, responded to my touch, a tap on the accelerator and the huge car took off, three hundred and twenty-five horses surging.

The restoration was worth every penny. I felt like a mafia Don.

"I have to pick up Amelia. I'll drop you back at the office after we fetch her."

Peter, fending off Rufus' tongue in his ear and shoving him into the back seat, grunted his assent.

The building was unassuming and very Los Angeles; white stucco, three stories, and very plain.

Ice cold air greeted us when we entered. From down the hall a voice floated out.

Rufus, hearing it, started tugging at the leash, all training forgotten.

His nails scratched on the marble floor as he tried to carry me forward; "Hurry! Hurry! That's Amelia!"

"How are those puppy training classes going," Peter asked dryly.

"Shut up!"

We pushed through the door and the full impact of Amelia's voice hit. My hair stood on end.

On the far side of the room, standing next to her music tutor playing the piano, Amelia was singing, eyes closed, the fingers of her right hand accompanying the notes as she sang, a tune I recognized;

Alone, by Heart. She sang with such stunning strength, so easily projecting her voice, and with such feeling it made my chest ache.

Once again, I was stunned speechless by her extraordinary talent.

Peter leaned towards me and whispered, "I never knew she had such an impressive voice. She's seriously talented."

I nodded, holding a leash firmly. "Sit!" I hissed at Rufus. He sat on my foot, glanced up as if to say, "See? I learned something," then concentrated intently on Amelia.

We listened until the song ended, her tutor making several observations, Amelia nodding. Then Amelia spotted us. I was crushed.

"Rufus! Come here, boy!"

Rufus took off like a bullet, crashing into a laughing Amelia holding her arms open. Why couldn't she greet me like that?