Chapter 238: Did You Kiss Someone?
The morning after kissing Martin, Alexandra returned to work with a smile she could not quite keep under control.
Most people probably would not have noticed anything unusual. Alexandra smiled all the time for cameras, directors, investors, nervous assistants, and actors who needed reassurance before an important scene. She had spent most of her life learning exactly how much warmth to show and when to pull it back.
Today, the smile kept appearing on its own.
It surfaced whenever the studio stayed quiet for too long, softened her face while she read through the script, and returned every time she checked the hour. Hiding it became especially difficult whenever her fingers drifted toward her lower lip.
The makeup artist noticed within minutes.
"You’re fidgeting."
Alexandra stopped tapping her heel. "I moved my foot."
"You’ve been moving it since you sat down."
"You’re supposed to be watching my face."
"I am. That’s why I noticed you keep touching your mouth."
Alexandra lowered her hand.
The woman standing behind her had worked on some of the most recognizable faces in the industry. She knew when an actress had slept badly, cried before arriving, argued with a manager, or spent the previous night doing something she wanted to keep private.
The look she gave Alexandra’s reflection suggested she already had a theory.
"Did something happen last night?"
"I slept badly."
"That isn’t why you’re smiling."
"Maybe I enjoy being here."
The makeup artist laughed. "Now I know you’re lying."
Alexandra picked up the script from her lap. "You ask too many questions before breakfast."
"You keep giving me reasons."
"I’m sitting in a chair."
"You’ve checked the time three times, touched your lips five times, and nearly smiled at the wall."
"You counted all of that?"
"I’m bored."
"You’re working."
"I can do both."
Alexandra should have ended the conversation there. Instead, the memory of Martin’s mouth against hers returned so clearly that she could almost feel the pressure again.
At first, he had hesitated. Then he grabbed her waist and kissed her like he was making up for every time a woman had taken the first serious step while he stood there thinking himself into a corner.
After that, his hand had moved down.
Her thighs pressed together beneath the robe covering her costume.
The brush near her cheek stopped moving.
When Alexandra raised her eyes, the makeup artist was staring at her reflection.
"What?"
The woman smiled. "That answered it."
"I didn’t say anything."
"You didn’t have to."
"Finish my makeup."
"Yes, ma’am."
The brush returned to Alexandra’s cheek. Several seconds passed before the woman tried again.
"Is he famous?"
"No."
"Rich?"
"No."
"An actor?"
"Absolutely not."
The speed of that answer made the makeup artist laugh again.
"Someone you knew before you became famous?"
"No."
"Then where did you meet him?"
Alexandra met her eyes through the mirror. "Are you trying to find him for yourself?"
"No. I’m trying to understand how a man with no money, fame, or acting career managed this."
"Managed what?"
The makeup artist waved the brush toward Alexandra’s face. "Whatever this is."
Alexandra looked back at her reflection.
Her expression had softened again.
"You’ve become very curious for someone working this close to my eye."
"Understood. I’m done."
"A wise decision."
The woman returned to work, though she still looked pleased with herself. The conversation had already told her enough. Alexandra’s good mood involved a man, and whatever he did for a living, he had nothing to do with their industry.
By lunchtime, half the set would probably know.
Alexandra cared less than she should have.
She lowered her gaze to the script and forced herself to focus.
The production had already moved past the problem Adrian confronted her about several days earlier. She had returned the next morning, admitted that her irritation with Bobby affected the scene, and asked for different blocking whenever physical intimacy was involved.
Adrian adjusted the camera angles, approved doubles where necessary, and warned her that none of those changes would matter if she continued holding herself back.
Alexandra answered by delivering three strong takes in a row.
That ended the argument. Adrian had not mentioned using a double again.
She had also told him that Bobby’s repeated invitations were making the situation more difficult than it needed to be. Adrian spoke to him afterward, and Bobby had kept more distance since then.
He still irritated her, but she could treat him like a scene partner once the cameras started. Anything involving contact could be handled through framing, separate shots, or doubles.
Fortunately, today’s scene required none.
It was one of the moments Alexandra had fought hardest to preserve during preproduction. The villainess had captured the capital, and the nobles who once mocked her now stood inside her throne room, waiting to learn what she intended to do with them. Bobby’s protagonist had entered with the prisoners, still believing he could appeal to the feelings she once had for him.
There would be no fight, no kiss, and no touching. The entire scene depended on the villainess holding the room through her presence and her words.
Alexandra had been looking forward to it.
"Finished," the makeup artist announced.
Alexandra rose and let the robe slide from her shoulders.
The dark costume beneath it followed the shape of her body before widening into a long skirt. Black and silver armor covered her torso without hiding the fullness of her chest, while the high collar framed her neck and sharpened the elegant lines of her face.
The original costume had included far too much jewelry. Alexandra demanded that most of it be removed. A woman who had conquered an empire did not need to hang half its treasury from her body to look powerful.
The costume department had listened.
She stepped into her heels and headed toward the palace set. People noticed her before she reached it, which was normal, but the attention felt different today. Heads turned and stayed turned while conversations dipped, resumed, then faded again as she passed.
Everyone had already seen the costume. They were reacting to the way she carried herself inside it.
The tension from her earlier failed performance was gone. Her back stayed straight without looking stiff, and she moved with an ease that made it seem as though the entire set belonged to her already.
Adrian stood behind the monitors, discussing the next setup with two assistants. He glanced at Alexandra once, returned to the screen, then looked at her again.
She stopped beside him. "What?"
"You look pleased with yourself."
"I slept badly."
"That isn’t what I said."
"It’s the answer you’re getting."
He continued studying her face. "Whatever happened, don’t bring it into the wrong scene."
"I’m planning to bring it into this one."
Adrian looked toward the throne-room set, then back at her. "That confident?"
"Yes."
"All right."
That simple answer surprised her more than an argument would have.
His attention shifted across the set.
Bobby Vale was already in costume, practicing his lines near the false palace doors. His heroic armor had been cleaned of the blood and dirt used in the previous battle scene, leaving him polished enough for another poster.
He noticed Alexandra looking and smiled.
She returned a small professional nod before turning away.
Adrian watched the exchange. "Has he bothered you again?"
"Not much."
"That isn’t an answer."
"He has been careful."
"I told him to be."
"So did I."
Adrian nodded. "Tell me if that changes."
Alexandra looked at him. "I will."
There was no joke attached to the answer this time.
Adrian seemed to notice.
"Good," he said. "I don’t want to find out from a publicist after somebody has already turned it into a crisis."
"That sounds almost responsible."
"I have moments."
"Thank you."
He gave her a strange look.
Alexandra raised one eyebrow. "What?"
"I don’t think I’ve heard you say that to me before."
"Don’t make me regret it."
"There she is."
Adrian turned toward the set.
"Everyone into position!"
Crew members hurried across the room. The actors playing the captured nobles lined up along both sides of the throne room, while guards stood near the doors. Bobby took his place in the center, several steps below the raised platform.
Alexandra climbed the stairs alone.
Her heels struck the false stone in a slow, steady rhythm that carried across the set. At the top, she turned, lowered herself onto the black throne, and crossed one leg over the other.
Nobody had told her to sit that way, but Adrian did not correct her.
The position pulled the dark fabric smoothly over her thigh and made her look relaxed rather than ceremonial. Everyone else stood tense, waiting for judgment, while the woman responsible looked comfortable enough to remain there all night.
One of the nobles forgot to lower his gaze.
Alexandra caught him staring, and he immediately looked down even though they were not filming yet.
She almost smiled.
"Quiet!" Adrian called.
The room settled.
"Sound?"
"Ready."
"Cameras?"
"Ready."
Adrian looked toward Alexandra.
"Action."