I don’t mean to just blurt it out. “Why, yes I’m engaged!”

But once I say it to a potential client, there’s only one logical thing to do — cast the role of my fake fiancé.

Easy enough. As a casting director, my job is to find the most talented players for every part, so I choose dreamy, edgy, sexy, sarcastic Reeve.And I sign him up for one week in the role of mine.

It’s not as if I’ll fall for him in five nights even if we get a little cozy one night at theater. It’s not as if I’ll want more even after a scorching afternoon in the stacks of the New York Public Library.

I can’t let myself fall because on Friday at midnight the curtain drops on our fake romance . . .

The seven years I invested in my ex left me with nothing but scorch marks from the way he peeled out and left me at the altar. I’m not looking to put my heart into a relationship any time soon. But getting back out there? That sounds like a helluva good idea to get my groove back.

Then I bump into Chris….Clever and funny, with a sexy surfer’s bod and a brilliant nerd brain, he has just the right screwdriver to fix my hard drive. (Yes, the one for my computer.) I wouldn’t mind dating him. The trouble is he just proposed to me—to be the new dating guru on his TV show.

Now he’s my new business partner.

What happens when you meet the right person at the wrong time?

I have a big plan for my career and it most certainly doesn’t involve my ex. AKA my first love. It definitely doesn’t entail working with him every day on a brand-new project for my jewelry line.

And it absolutely doesn’t include falling for the man all over again. But the trouble is, he’s kind, charming and so darn smart. Not to mention easy on the eyes. And thoughtful, too. Also, he wants to get to know me again. To take me out for coffee, to chat on the phone, to go to museums.

It’s a dizzying, delicious courtship, but I don’t know if my heart can handle this from the man who broke it to pieces once upon a time… Or am I willing to risk everything for a second chance at first love?

The first rule of directing is simple: Never fall for your leading lady.

The second? Don’t let it get to you when she stage kisses another man.

Looks like I’ve already broken both. Now my jealous, possessive heart wants all of her – the ingenue who’s the star of my next show. I’m captivated by her raw talent, her addictive charm, and her desperate need for me.

Soon we’re staying late in the empty theater, our private rehearsals spiraling into forbidden territory.

Exactly where I can’t go. Because then I’d break the most dangerous rule of all.

Don’t give her your heart.

Because how can I be sure that what she feels is real and not a part of the play?