LOS ANGELES: October, 1998 (Part 2)

William and I were two months into our romance when I started eyeing my Nikes in the corner. Confidence bubbled up when I remembered there was always the possibility of a run for the hills. I was good at this. I was fast and never regretted a single exit because what I was really good at was a life alone. I was better single than not. More productive, more at peace, and quite possibly saner.

We met when I was in the midst of a busy no-dating period of four years. He arrived on my doorstep to discuss his possible involvement as an editor on a short film I was directing and producing. After years of an acting career, I'd set my sights on a new goal: making movies. I was accepted into a women's directing program at the American Film Institute and faced the daunting tasks of raising cash and putting together a cast and crew willing to work for free.

When I opened my apartment door that July morning in 1998, I knew two things about William. One, that he'd worked on huge studio movies as an assistant editor, and two, that he loved my script and wanted to cut my movie. There is nothing a director wants to hear more than I love your script and I want to work on your movie. As far as I was concerned, he was the guy, he had the job, and we would work together.

I opened my apartment door to this male, Chinese-American version of myself. We both wore blue jeans and T-shirts. We were both small of stature and sporting very short dark hair. At five-foot-four inches, I was about an inch taller than him. We shook hands. He later told me his thoughts consisted of: She's pretty. She's a director. She should grow her hair.

I thought he was nice-looking but didn't pay a lot of attention to that because my focus was to seal the deal and get him onboard to cut my movie. He was the third editor I'd tried to rope in and I was getting desperate. I lost the previous candidates to paying jobs and was nervous about the entire enterprise of making a movie, even a short one.

I hustled William over to my dining table to show him shot lists. I had ideas I wanted to share with him. I wanted to talk about camera angles and insert shots. He leaned in close to read my scribbles and study my camera set-ups.

Mel, I've worked on a lot of movies, and only the best directors are prepared like this.

For a nervous, freshman filmmaker, these words were gold. I felt calm drape over me like a sheet of satin.

I think I could love this guy.