Chapter 6

Tamara

“Tamara, they’re ready for you,” Gina, one of the set assistants, called into my trailer.

I stared into the mirror one last time as my makeup artist Trish finished the last few dabs of powder on my cheeks. I looked beautiful.

I rose and headed to the costume trailer. The troublesome piece of metal I’d been carrying around for two days might as well have been an anvil in my pocket. Every time I started to feel calm, like everything was okay, I felt it there and remembered that I’d stolen the ring from a prince I had raunchy sex with and I was jumpy all over again. I got up extra early this morning to add another two miles to my morning run, hoping that would syphon out some of my anxiety, but even that didn’t help.

What could I do? Mail it? Drop it off on the front step of the palace? Train a pigeon to deliver it through the prince’s window?

The girls in the costume trailer fitted me in a luxurious gown, and by the time I got on set I looked the part of a princess to a tee.

I’d been looking forward to this scene since I first got the script. My character, Amelia, just learned that her aunt and uncle, who have been missing for years, were killed in a Bolshevik uprising. They were the last members of her family, of her dynasty, and now she feels completely alone. She goes to the attic and takes one of her old ball gowns out of storage, donning it before dancing around the room, crying for everything she’s lost. We just finished shooting the lead up, and now was time for the main scene—the heart-wrenching goodbye waltz to the world she used to know.

One of the sets had been converted into the attic and after costuming I found my way there, where the director was waiting. And so was my ex, Michael Redding.

That was the part of the scene I looked forward to least. Amelia is interrupted by her working-class love interest, played by Michael, who then comforts her in her time of need. For all his faults, Michael was an exceptional actor, and I knew we’d do well. I just wished it didn’t have to be him.

Michael wasn’t classically good looking, per se, but there was a reason he had legions of fangirls following his every move on social media. Though his lips were just a little too thin and his brow a little too severe, his tall frame and piercing muddy brown eyes easily won over everyone in his path. Me included.

The director, Yesha, greeted me with a smile. “Tamara, lovely. You look perfect. We’re all ready to go, so take your mark.”

My thick skirts whispered across the creaking floorboards. In the corner of the room was a distressed steamer trunk and a full-length mirror, and I made my way over to them.

I took a few deep breaths.

Nobody was watching me. No Yesha. No Michael. Just me and Amelia. It was what I told myself every time the camera rolled, and it worked every time. Once I was settled in character, I pretended the rest of the world didn’t exist.

“Okay, ready?” Yesha called.

I nodded.

And we began.

I’d barely made it through the first minute when I heard the first tittering among the spectators. Yesha didn’t call cut straightaway so I didn’t dare look at the crew to see what the deal was. The whispers grew into outright chatter and Yesha, normally the first to start yelling when things weren’t going her way, sounded friendly when she called for us to cut.

I immediately looked toward the camera. The disturbance wasn’t hard to find.

My heart dropped like a stone and I let out a gasp.

Prince Alexander, brilliantly handsome in a black tailored suit and just a little bit of mess in his hair, grinned at me. He was standing near Yesha, and turned to her briefly.

They exchanged a few words, then Yesha said, “Okay, everyone. We’re going to take a short break. Back in fifteen.”

Nobody dispersed. Everyone was much too interested in the appearance of a prince on set. Including Michael. They all gawked as Alexander approached me.

Was I about to be arrested? Right here? Or did he just want to embarrass me and teach me a lesson?

My breaths came short and fast but I tried to appear as calm as possible. It wasn’t easy. The pounds of fabric hanging from my shoulders suddenly weighed as much as a boulder and I felt rooted to the spot.

Prince Alexander stopped close enough that I could hear when he spoke quietly. “Is there somewhere private we could talk?”

He was smiling. That had to be a good sign, right?

“My trailer,” I managed to say. “Follow me.”

I strode for the exit, not caring whether he followed me or not. At this point I just needed some air.

I navigated through the trailers on the lot until I found my own, then squished my skirts through the narrow doorway and walked to the couch at the far end, though I didn’t sit. I rustled through the clothes piled on top until I found what I needed.

Alexander followed, closing the door behind him. He seemed to take up every bit of the limited space, the crown of his head nearly touching the roof.

Before he could open his mouth, I rushed forward with the ring outstretched and bent low in a formal bow. “I’m so sorry, your highness. I didn’t mean to take it.”

Alexander didn’t take the ring, and after an awkward moment of staring at the floor I straightened cautiously. His lips were quirked in an adorable half smile, eyes shining.

“Perhaps I should be calling you ‘your highness’,” he commented, giving me a once over.

I had to say, there were worse times for a one night stand to pop in unexpectedly than when dolled up in full princess glamor. I smiled tightly and forced the ring further under his nose.

Alexander plucked it from my fingers, smile never faltering. “Is this you telling me you want a divorce?”

My cheeks heated. “I just…I don’t know. I thought that’s what you came here for.”

He rolled it between his fingers, staring at me, then dropped the ring in his pocket. “If I personally sought out every person who made off with a trinket of mine, that’s all I would have time to do.”

“If you’re not here for the ring, what are you here for?” I asked. “Do you want me to sign a non-disclosure agreement or something?”

Alexander chuckled and cocked his head, looking down at me like I was a tasty treat. The realization blasted me like an open flame—he was here for me.

“You left before I got a chance to say goodbye,” he said. “Or get your real name, no less your phone number.”

I stepped around him, feigning nonchalance as I rooted around in the mini-fridge for a bottle of water. Inside I was a wobbly mess but I couldn’t let him see it.

“Looks like you found me anyway,” I said. “You must be great at Hide and Seek.”

Alexander walked around me, catching my gaze once more. My heart flopped.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he said. “What are you doing tonight?”

Wait. Was Prince Alexander asking me out?

If I had a diary, this would be a major diary moment. Only a few years before I was a struggling college kid with a love of improv and acting, who dreamed of making it big one day. Now I was being asked out by one of the most wealthy and influential men in the country. Not my country, but still.

The next thought that crossed my mind put a screeching halt to every fantasy that flitted at the edges of my consciousness. If I went out with a prince, the press would eat me alive.

“I’m busy,” I managed to say.

“Until when?”

“Until forever.”

It was hard to believe that I felt so awkward and uncomfortable around a man who’d been my husband for a night, who I’d been so at ease with, had so much fun with. Then again, we were different people before.

Alexander wasn’t fazed. He leaned a little closer, until I could make out the flecks of gold in his eyes. “Come on, Kitty Kat. I know you’ve been thinking about it too.” His gaze slid down the length of me—slowly, like he was taking in every inch. “Remember how hot it was, you and me in that secluded, dark room? Remember how you nearly came on my fingers?”

My breath caught and I squeezed the water bottle enough to send a little water dribbling over my hand. Alexander smirked.

“Of course you remember. You probably play it back in your head over and over, just like I do.” He cupped my chin in his hand, thumb stroking my bottom lip. For a moment, I forgot to breathe. My core blazed to life and my stomach turned in on itself. Vivid scenes of our encounter flashed through my mind.

Would it really hurt to go out with him? My body begged me to give in, to let him take me. Own me. Whatever he wanted.

“Plus,” Alexander released my chin, standing to his full height. “It would be good for your career to be seen out with me. Win-win.”

That sentence was like a bucket of cold water to the face. Thinking clearly now, I stepped out of his reach and crossed my arms haughtily.

“No,” I said. “I know your reputation, and believe me when I say I’m not interested in adding my name to the list of your cast-offs. Besides my career’s doing just fine on its own.”

Genuine surprise splashed across his face. I supposed princes didn’t get turned down very often. I felt powerful, all of a sudden, and it spurred me on. Any nervousness I’d had before evaporated into nothing.

“I want you to leave my trailer.” I pointed to the door to hammer my point in. “Now that you’ve got your ring back, there’s no reason for you to hang around.”

Alexander studied me for a moment, face impassive, and then gave a brief nod. He turned and walked out without another word.

I sagged onto the couch, chugging back a few mouthfuls of water.

I was in-between wanting to tell everyone and anyone what just happened and not wanting to tell a soul, not even my sister. It felt like if nobody else knew, it didn’t happen, and I couldn’t tell whether it was better to remember or to try to forget the day I rejected the prince of one of the oldest ruling families in Europe.

Someone rapped on my door and I jumped, but it was only Gina letting me know that I was due back on set in five minutes.

I put a cap on my water bottle and took a deep breath, exiting my trailer. There were no princes loitering around outside, thankfully, though Michael was sitting on the steps outside his trailer. He rose when he saw me.

“Hey,” he said. “What was that about?”

“None of your business.” I tried to walk past him, but Michael grabbed my arm. His grip was gentle, but I didn’t appreciate it. He had a bad habit of finding every reason on earth to get defensive, and I figured I was in for it.

“I meant to tell you this earlier,” he said. “You look beautiful. The dress...” He gave me a once-over, smiling. “Amazing.”

Today was turning out to be an odd day. Propositioned by a prince, hit on by an ex... What was next?

“Uh, thanks.” I pulled my arm free. “We’ve got to get back to the set.”

“Let’s walk together,” he said.

And, since I had no reason to object, we did.