Raquel and Harrison sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes love. Then comes marriage. Then comes a baby in the baby carriage.

That's how her brother used to sing it when we were kids - a simple ploy to get under my skin and make me stick my fist in his face - but man oh man, did he get the order wrong. One night of "kissing" in New York catapulted us straight to the pregnancy portion of the song - surprise! - and now I have to figure out how to carry out the whole melody in reverse.

A baby on the way first. Then love and marriage? It's complicated on its best day.

But our situation is far more problematic than just a simple twist of nursery rhyme lyrics. Before our night together, Raquel Weaver was the best-known good girl in Hollywood - a 29-year-old innocent beauty whom the world adored and watched like a hawk.

Obviously, the consequences of that kind of reputation don't just go away. Add in pregnancy hormones, the media, a fake fiance, and a selfish manager, and you have the short list of my problems. As a 34-year-old successful CFO of a multibillion-dollar media conglomerate, I thought I would be able to handle anything show business could throw my way, but I'm starting to think I might be in over my head.

Winning Hollywood's goodest girl is going to take everything I've got.

Contains mature themes.