The High-Alloy Headache
The silence in the penthouse was expensive—the kind of silence that only exists when you pay for triple-glazed glass and a personal assistant who knows exactly when to stop talking.
Alexis didn’t stop talking.
“If you stare at that script any harder, Cade, it’s going to catch fire. And unfortunately, we don’t have the insurance for a spontaneous combustion caused by your brooding,” Alexis said, her heels clicking a rhythmic, irritating staccato against the white marble.
Cade didn’t look up from the leather sofa. He was draped across it, a study in practiced nonchalance. “It’s called ‘method,’ Lex. You wouldn’t understand. It requires an internal stillness that your vibrating-pager energy is currently murdering.”
“My ‘vibrating-pager energy’ is the only reason you aren’t currently being sued by three different production houses,” she retorted, dropping a heavy tablet onto the coffee table with a satisfying thud. “Sign the digital contracts for the fragrance campaign. Now. Before I decide to ‘method act’ as an assistant who actually likes her boss.”
Cade finally shifted, his eyes locking onto hers. They were a piercing, stormy grey that usually made co-stars melt, but Alexis just used them as a focal point for her annoyance.
“You love me,” he said, his voice dropping an octave—the tone he used when he wanted something. He leaned forward, invading the six inches of professional space she tried so hard to maintain. “You love the chaos. You’d be bored to tears managing some mid-level accountant who actually files his taxes on time.”
“I’d be rested,” she corrected, her chin tilting up. “I’d have a skincare routine that didn’t involve hiding stress-hives. And I certainly wouldn’t have to listen to you pretend that ‘stillness’ is anything other than you being too hungover to read 12-point font.”
Cade let out a sharp, genuine bark of a laugh. He grabbed her wrist—just for a second—to pull the tablet closer, and the brief contact felt like a static shock.
“Careful, Lex. Your shell is cracking. I can see the wit leaking out.”
“It’s not a shell, Cade. It’s a hazmat suit. I need it to survive being in the same zip code as your ego.”
The elevator chimed, a soft, melodic sound that usually heralded trouble. Cindy floated out, her legs appearing to start at her armpits, clad in a dress that was more of a suggestion than a garment.
“Cade, darling,” Cindy cooed, ignoring Alexis entirely as she draped herself over the back of the sofa, her perfume—something floral and aggressive—filling the room. “Tell me we’re leaving soon. This place feels so... cluttered.”
She glanced at the stack of folders near Alexis.
“Oh, hi... Alice? Ann?” Cindy blinked long, faux lashes. “Could you be a dear and go find my spare charger? I left it in the car, and I simply cannot have a dead phone at the fittings.”
Alexis didn’t move. She didn’t even blink. “It’s Alexis. And the car is already at the studio. If you need a charger, there’s a gas station two blocks over. I’m sure they have something in neon pink that matches your personality.”
Cade stifled a cough that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle.
“Excuse me?” Cindy’s voice went shrill, her eyes finally snapping to Alexis. “Cade, are you really going to let her speak to me like that? She’s a glorified secretary.”
Cade stood up, stretching with a slow, feline grace that drew everyone’s eyes. He looked at Cindy, then shifted his gaze back to Alexis. The air between them was thick, a weird mix of combat and something far more electric.
“She’s a lot of things, Cin,” Cade said, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched Alexis’s eyes flare with defiance. “But ‘quiet’ isn’t one of them. And honestly? I think she’d throw me off the balcony before she went on a charger run for anyone.”
He stepped closer to Alexis, leaning in so his breath brushed her ear. “Thirsty for a fight today, aren’t you, Lex?”
“Always,” she whispered back, her heart hammering against her ribs for all the wrong reasons. “Don’t trip on your way out. I’d hate to have to file the worker’s comp paperwork for your face.”
“See?” Cade turned to a fuming Cindy, looking far too entertained. “She’s indispensable.”
The film set for Neon Shadows was a chaotic hum of expensive lighting rigs and frazzled PAs, but Cindy moved through it like she owned the air everyone else was breathing.
Cade had been pulled into hair and makeup, leaving Alexis at the craft services table to juggle three ringing phones. She was mid-argument with a talent agent when she felt a cold, deliberate pressure against her shoulder.
Cindy didn’t just walk past; she collided with Alexis, sending a lukewarm cup of black coffee splashing down the front of Alexis’s crisp white blouse.
“Oh! My goodness,” Cindy gasped, her voice loud enough to make the nearby camera crew turn their heads. She didn’t look sorry; she looked victorious. “I am so clumsy. But honestly, Alexis, you were standing right in the walkway. It’s like you forget you’re supposed to be invisible here.”
Alexis looked down at the brown stain spreading across her chest. She took a slow, measured breath, the kind she used when Cade “forgot” he had a 6:00 AM call time.
“I’m hard to miss, Cindy. I’m the one actually working,” Alexis said, her voice dropping into that dangerous, low register that usually made Cade sit up straight.
“Working? Is that what you call hovering?” Cindy laughed, a sharp, brittle sound. She reached out, plucking Alexis’s phone from her hand before she could react. “Let’s see what’s so important.”
“Give it back,” Alexis snapped, stepping forward.
“Is this your little schedule? Or are you writing fan fiction about my boyfriend?” Cindy held the phone high, mocking Alexis’s height. A few background extras started to whisper. “Cade told me you’re ‘the backbone,’ but looking at you now... you just look like a messy little girl in a cheap shirt who can’t even hold a cup of coffee. Maybe I should tell him to hire someone who actually fits the ‘prestige’ of his brand.”
Cindy leaned in, her eyes glinting with pure malice. “You’re just a glorified fan with a clipboard, honey. Don’t forget your place.”
The silence on the set stretched, uncomfortable and heavy. Alexis felt the sting of humiliation, the heat rising to her cheeks—not because of the coffee, but because of the audience.
“Is there a problem here?”
Cade was standing at the entrance of his trailer, his wardrobe for the scene—a tailored dark suit—making him look every bit the intimidating lead. His eyes went from the coffee stain on Alexis to the phone in Cindy’s hand.
“Cade, babe! Your assistant just ran into me,” Cindy lied smoothly, pouting her lips. “She’s being so aggressive. I think the stress is getting to her. Look at her, she’s a disaster.”
Cade walked over, his stride slow and deliberate. He didn’t look at Cindy. He looked at Alexis, his gaze tracing the stain on her shirt before meeting her eyes. For a second, the “infuriating boss” mask slipped, and something sharp and protective flickered in the grey of his pupils.
“You okay, Lex?” he asked, his voice unexpectedly quiet.
“I’m fine, Cade. I have work to do,” she said, her voice tight. She reached for her phone, but Cade beat her to it, snatching it from Cindy’s manicured grip.
“She doesn’t look like a disaster to me,” Cade said, turning to Cindy. He didn’t yell; he didn’t have to. The coldness in his tone did the work. “She looks like the only person on this set who isn’t wasting my time. And Cindy? If you ever touch her property again, or talk about her ‘place,’ you can find your own way home. My car is for people I actually respect.”
The color drained from Cindy’s face. “Cade, you can’t be serious! She’s just—”
“Indispensable,” Cade finished, his eyes snapping back to Alexis. A smirk touched his lips—the usual challenge was back. “Though, Lex, I have to agree with her on one thing. That shirt is a tragedy. Go to my trailer. There’s a fresh hoodie in my bag. And try not to get any ‘aggression’ on it.”
Alexis rolled her eyes, the familiar rhythm of their bickering grounding her. “A hoodie? At a formal set? Your PR person will have a stroke.”
“Then let them have one,” Cade countered, stepping closer, his shoulder brushing hers as he leaned in to whisper. “You look better in my clothes anyway. Now move, before I start method acting as a boss who actually fires people.”
Alexis turned on her heel, leaving a stunned Cindy in the dust. As she walked toward the trailer, she could feel Cade’s eyes on her, and for the first time, the “shell” she kept around herself didn’t feel quite so thick.
