When I saw Scotty Baldwin sitting alone at the hotel bar, I couldn’t stay away. The man was a legend. He had caught the bouquet at Luke & Laura’s wedding, threatened to contest his divorce from Laura, and started a fistfight with Luke, nearly landing them both in General Hospital. I wasn’t expecting to see Scotty so far from Port Charles, but that didn’t stop me from approaching. “Hello,” I said, breathlessly. “Is this seat taken?” “It is now,” he growled. And then that handsome rogue offered to buy me a drink.

I knew I was playing with fire. He’d been married four times, was a known blackmailer, and had faked his own death. But I didn’t care. A few drinks later and we were kissing passionately, bar patrons be damned. Before our magical rendezvous was over, he grasped my hand urgently and inscribed his phone number on my palm, then slipped off into the night.

When I woke up the next morning, my hand was smudged with Sharpie ink and my head hurt. A little mental playback plus some Googling helped clarify that the night before, I’d hit on Kin Shriner, a Daytime heartthrob I’d idolized in sixth grade, who was now pushing 50. And I couldn’t get his phone number off my hand. I figured maybe I should just call him. Four rings, and I got the machine. The voice did not sound like my dreamboat Scotty Baldwin. It sounded like the actor who played him—a cranky actor at that. I chickened out and hung up.

About a month later, I was hired to produce a television special. That’s what I did for a living at the time—freelance television production. Typically, I’d worked on splashy reality competition shows like Temptation Island and Popstars. But in my new job, I’d be working for SoapNet and the special was called Daytime’s Greatest Weddings. It would be hosted by Kin Shriner, who played Scotty Baldwin on General Hospital. Sometimes the universe just laughs and laughs.

So of course I panicked. How was I going to wield any sort of authority on set if the talent saw me not as his producer but as drunken bar make-out girl? On the day of the shoot, I strode right up to Kin and extended a confident hand. I would show no fear. And he would show…no recognition. Not even a flicker in his eyes. Was I really so forgettable, or was he just pretending not to know me? If he was acting, then surely he deserved a Daytime Emmy for Outstanding Performance in an Awkward Situation. But over the course of several hours of neutral professionalism, I realized he was not faking it. He had no memory of our encounter.

I decided not to blame myself. This was Daytime, and there were plenty of other explanations for why Scotty Baldwin would not know who I was: amnesia, witchcraft, and the most likely…an evil twin. I hoped the real Scotty was safe. Maybe some day, he’d let me have his love child, or hold me hostage.

I wish I’d slapped him when I had the chance.