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Chapter 83 - And Then There Were Four (Maybe Five?)

AN: New week. Let's aim for top 10 again.

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Scarlett extended her hand with a warm smile. "Nice to meet you."

Caroline responded instantly, shaking her hand. "It's such an honor. You were stunning in Lost in Translation. Haunting, honest, beautiful."

Scarlett smiled, but her eyes briefly flicked to Max, who hadn't moved.

Max was giving her the kind of look normally reserved for expensive handbags or rival bakery owners. Calculated. Curious. Slightly amused.

"You smell expensive," Max said.

Scarlett blinked. "Thank you?"

Alex coughed.

Then, with the smoothness of a woman who gave zero damns about etiquette and one hundred about claiming territory, Max looped an arm around Alex's waist and pulled herself against him, resting her head on his shoulder like a human-sized "mine" sticker.

"Sorry, I just need to borrow my boyfriend for emotional support. Meeting hot actresses makes me insecure."

Scarlett blinked once, cool and unreadable, but something sharp flashed in her chest.

Boyfriend?

Her brain caught the word and played it on loop.

Alex never mentioned a girlfriend.

Hell, he never mentioned anyone.

Max looked up at Scarlett, a teasing glint in her eyes. She knew that look very well. Caroline had that look before, Lilly had that look when she heard about them, and now Scarlett too. Max was onto her.

Her lips curling into a lazy, mischievous smirk. "Wait. Are you feeling a tiny bit jealous seeing me clinging onto him? It's okay. Happens."

Caroline closed her eyes like someone praying not to be smote by God mid-brunch. "Max…"

Alex froze for half a second, then smirked down at Max, his arm settling around her waist like it belonged there. 'Well, nothing I can do now. And it's super awkward.'

Scarlett tilted her head, clearly amused. "Jealous?" she repeated, arching a brow.

Max nodded solemnly. "I mean, I get it. I'd be jealous of me, too. Look at this. Cupcake queen. Abs-access privileges. Limited edition boyfriend experience. Free massages. I'm living the fangirl dream."

Scarlett blinked, stunned by the directness, and tried to recover with a light laugh. "Well, I wasn't expecting to be interrogated by charm and cleavage, but here we are."

Max batted her lashes. "Just being honest. You know how it is—billionaires who can cook, direct, and make you see stars in the bedroom are rare. Gotta hang on tight. Like this." She tightened her hold around Alex's chest, snuggling in further.

Alex cleared his throat. "Max... maybe tone it—"

"Nope. She needs to know," Max cut him off, then looked Scarlett dead in the eyes. "This guy? My boyfriend. Actually... our boyfriend." She nodded toward Caroline. "We're a very generous household."

Scarlett's eyes flicked toward Caroline, who gave a very forced, very apologetic smile.

Scarlett stood there a second too long, processing.

That night they went out was intimate and quiet. Although it hadn't led anywhere on that level, but she thought... maybe next time. Maybe it would.

Now? It felt like she'd just walked into the middle of someone else's story. Someone beautiful, bold, and draped all over Alex like a living exclamation point.

She kept her face neutral. Polite. But her thoughts were racing.

'Was that kiss a mistake? Was the flirting mutual, or was I just reading into it because I wanted to?'

She'd felt something that night. A tension. A spark. And when he sketched her portrait, when he smiled that low, private smile... she thought it meant something.

But now?

Now, his arm was around a woman who looked like a pin-up girl and talked like a wrecking ball. And standing next to her was a blonde who looked like she fell out of a luxury magazine.

She never broke under pressure and kept her cool.

But this?

This was different.

He had a girlfriend. Two, apparently.

And they looked like walking sin and dessert.

Her stomach flipped... not with anger, not even quite heartbreak, but that dull sting of realization. Of being blindsided. Of wondering if that night and that little kiss had meant nothing or if it meant something, and he just hadn't had the guts to say what.

Still, she was Scarlett Johansson. And Scarlett Johansson didn't crumble in designer jeans.

So she just smiled again, more reserved this time. "Well, congrats to all of you, then. You seem... very happy."

Max grinned. "We are. And it's not just the mimosa cart."

Scarlett gave a single nod. "Good. I'm glad."

But her smile sharpened. Just slightly. The kind of smile you wear when you're not just playing nice… you're playing chess.

She sipped her drink, then looked at Alex. "So, when do we start prepping for Alien? Table reads, concept workshops, costume fittings... all the fun pre-production chaos?"

Alex hesitated. "Uh... soon. Probably in a month or two. We're still locking a few locations."

Scarlett's eyes sparkled. "Perfect. I have nothing signed up. So, maybe I can swing by the studio... or maybe your place, if you're too busy running the multiverse from your penthouse. Could always use some one-on-one time with the director. You know... for performance tips."

Max's head lifted like a predator sniffing incoming competition.

"Ohhh, wow," she said slowly, eyes wide with mock innocence. "You're gonna crash at his place? That's adorable. Want me to leave out snacks and a toothbrush labeled Plan B?"

Caroline coughed. On her drink. Nearly died. 'Here it starts... Max vs SJ. God, save Alex. Have mercy.'

Scarlett didn't blink. "Only if the toothbrush comes with matching pajamas. I like silk. Red, if you've got it."

Max tilted her head. "Red silk... bold. Just make sure it fits over that inflated ego."

Scarlett smiled sweetly. "Only thing inflated here is the balloon of denial you're floating on. He's a director. I'm the lead actress. Naturally, we'll spend... intimate time. Alone. Rehearsing lines. Blocking. Breathing together."

Max nodded slowly, then leaned into Alex's ear. "Sweetie? Do we rehearse when we breathe together?"

Alex froze. "Um... define rehearse?"

Max looked at Scarlett and winked. "I think the only lines we're practicing are the ones I scream into his neck."

Caroline made a noise like someone getting electrocuted by secondhand embarrassment.

Scarlett just took another sip of her drink. Cool. Unbothered. Dangerous.

"Oh, don't worry. I'm sure your vocal range is... impressive. But Alex and I have chemistry too. Did you know he sketched my portrait after our first date?"

Max raised an eyebrow so high it nearly gave her a forehead cramp. Her gaze slowly slid to Alex's face.

His eyes widened a fraction. 'Uh-oh.'

Max didn't say a word. She didn't have to. Her look said it all:

**"Oh? You out here drawing actresses like a budget DiCaprio? Where's my charcoal masterpiece? When are you going to sketch this boobelicious beauty? You better start warming up those hands, Michelangelo, because we are about to play 'Nude Figure Drawing: Dessert Edition.'"

Caroline, standing stiffly nearby, muttered under her breath, "Oh no. She's doing the squint. That's the 'I'm about to ruin someone's day with a smile' squint."

Alex cleared his throat and tried to jump in. "It was..."

Max held up a finger like she was stopping traffic. "Shh. No talking unless you're drawing me like one of your French smartasses."

She took a slow, dramatic step toward Scarlett. It wasn't aggressive. It was friendly. Politely threatening. Like a cat with a bowtie circling your wine glass.

Max leaned in until her lips were just a whisper away from Scarlett's ear, and with a sugary-sweet smile, she murmured:

"First date, huh? That's cute. We got a foot massage on ours."

Scarlett didn't flinch. But her eyes narrowed just slightly.

Max continued, whisper-velvet voice dropping to mock-conspiratorial.

"He made me cum. From just. A. Foot. Massage. Like, toes to toesplosion. Boom. Gone. No warning. No effort. Just his hands."

She pulled back, still smiling. "Oh! And there was kissing too. A lot of it. Tongue gymnastics. I think we technically made out in five languages."

Scarlett blinked. "I... he..." she stuttered for a second, the only crack in her armor so far.

Caroline turned away like she couldn't bear to watch the emotional carnage. "I need to invent a mute button for real life."

Scarlett cleared her throat, her voice coming back icy and calm, but now a little flustered. "Well... that's... wonderful. Really. So glad you enjoyed... the reflexology."

Max stepped back, hands on hips. "Enjoyed? Honey, I needed a defibrillator. Alex had me seeing God and my high school algebra teacher in the same five minutes. No, wait! That was the second time. The first time was my grandma or great-great grandma... Well, she gave me a thumbs up."

Alex muttered under his breath, "I really need to stop letting Max narrate our relationship like it's a Netflix documentary."

Scarlett regained her composure and shot back with a tight smile. "Foot massage, huh? That's cute. Maybe next time I'll let him sketch me while I'm getting one."

Max clapped once, loud and proud. "Oooh! Saucy! I love that! Except… he'd probably be too distracted because once you moan, he gets all fidgety and drops the pencil. Very inconvenient for portraits."

Scarlett's jaw twitched.

Alex was now staring directly at a corner of the ceiling, trying to telepathically beam himself to another universe.

Caroline began chugging her mimosa.

Vanessa Johansson, watching all this from the back with a grin, leaned to Jeremy Renner. "Ten bucks on the brunette with murder in her eyes."

Jeremy replied without looking up, "Nah, that blonde's gonna blow first. You can see the panic building."

Scarlett looked Max up and down slowly, finally raising her glass again.

"Well," she said. "He seems like a very... generous boyfriend."

Max grinned. "He is. In every way."

Scarlett smiled. "Then I suppose you won't mind if I borrow him sometime... for professional reasons."

Max took a long sip of her mimosa, then licked her lips and leaned back with a shrug. "Sure. Just know that if you break the director, the co-directors will be very upset."

She pointed a thumb between herself and Caroline. Caroline gave the weakest thumbs-up in history and whispered, "We're very professional."

Scarlett paused. Then gave a small, gracious nod. "Noted."

Alex looked at all three of them, slowly exhaled, and said, "I need whiskey. Neat. And possibly a security detail."

Max patted his chest and smiled. "You need to go get your sketchbook. We're overdue for a body painting session."

Scarlett raised a brow. "With watercolors or oils?"

Max winked. "With frosting, babe. It's called edible expressionism."

Scarlett opened her mouth, then closed it, then laughed.

And for the first time, it wasn't cold... it was real and...

'That was fun?! Huh? What?'

Max crossed her arms, victorious.

Caroline slowly sank into her chair like someone escaping the splash zone at SeaWorld.

Alex just sat down and muttered, "This is my life now."

...

[Shifting the scene to Evangeline Lilly]

Evangeline Lilly stood with her arms crossed and a glass of sparkling water that had long gone warm. She hadn't taken a sip in ten minutes. Maybe longer.

She wasn't watching the crowd. Not really.

Her gaze was locked on them... the absurd little triangle of chaos down by the mimosa station.

Max, with her "I will lick your boyfriend in front of you just because I can" energy.

Caroline, who looked like she wanted to sink into the Earth and emerge in a world where drama was taxed.

And Scarlett freaking Johansson.

Lilly's jaw flexed. Not visibly. Just enough to keep her rage teeth from making a public appearance.

She had made peace, sort of, with Max and Caroline. She didn't love the idea that Alex was playing house with girls who weaponized baked goods and boobs... but fine. They were a unit. A set. A Maxoline Combo Meal with extra snark and cinnamon frosting. Whatever.

She could deal with that.

But Scarlett?

Scarlett was new.

Scarlett was 5 or 6 years younger than her.

Scarlett was dangerous.

Scarlett had leading lady energy and Oscar eyebrows and the kind of skin that made red carpets apologize for being beneath her.

And worst of all?

She didn't like the way Scarlett was looking at Alex. Nope. Not one bit. 

She took a slow breath.

'No worries. Don't think too much. Keep your calm and make some future plans.'

Across the room, Alex was playing damage control with his eyes, glancing from Max to Scarlett like a man trying to prevent two meteorites from colliding. It was cute. In a doomed kind of way.

Lilly sipped her lukewarm drink and turned slightly, muttering to herself. "And just like that, the love pentagon becomes a hexagon. Or a murder circle."

Behind her, one of the Titan interns appeared with a clipboard and said something about the next press block, but she didn't hear it. She waved him off with one perfectly manicured hand and kept watching.

Scarlett said something.

Max laughed with teeth.

And then... then... Scarlett laughed back.

Lilly's eyebrow twitched.

'Oh no,' she narrowed her eyes. 'They're bonding. That's worse than fighting. That's...' she paused, eyes narrowing, '...sisterhood of shared dick.'

Lilly shook her head a bit. 

'Wait! Did I just think that? Oh, no. Why am I thinking things that Max probably thinks? Creepy.'

She set down her glass with a click that made the nearby table flinch.

The intern peeked back in. "Ma'am? Should I schedule your quote for the blog post or...?"

"Schedule a funeral," Lilly replied, picking up her bag. "For the last shred of my patience."

She walked toward the lounge exit, heels clicking like threats on marble, her mind already drafting a new strategy. If Scarlett was in the game now, this wasn't just about competing for Alex's time.

This was war.

And Evangeline Lilly didn't lose wars. (Minus the one she lost against Alex)

She paused at the door, looked over her shoulder, and locked eyes with Alex for a brief second. He looked up from the three-woman tornado he was standing in and smiled faintly.

She didn't smile back.

Not yet.

Let him wonder.

Let them all wonder.

Because the next time she walked into a room, it wouldn't be as just another player in Alex's messed-up billionaire rom-com life.

It'd be as the woman who flips the script.

....

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