“Your salary from the show won’t cover that,” Eli says, like I don’t know basic math. “Not to mention, you won’t even get paid, all at once, by the show—assuming I can fix this for you. Plus, even if you do wind up staying on the show, if I can save your stupid ass today, then half your salary will go to taxes and commissions.”
“Half?” I blurt. “Well, shit.”
Eli looks genuinely distraught on my behalf. He fidgets in his armchair for a moment. “Savage, even if I can get the show to keep you on, that was the most irresponsible purchase, ever. You already bought Sasha a house last year—and you don’t even have one for yourself!”
My stomach flip-flops. “Look, I’m not gonna apologize. I had to do this for Mimi. She’s the first person in the world who ever truly believed in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself. The first person who told me I actually mattered.” I swallow hard, keeping my emotions at bay. “There’s no way to know how much time she has left, Eli. But things aren’t looking good. So, whatever time she’s got, I want her to get to lie in a huge bed fit for a queen in the master bedroom of that particular house, while watching me sit at the judges’ table—in Hugh Delaney’s fucking chair—on her all-time favorite show.”
Eli runs his palm down his face. “Aw, Savage. You’re such a fucking . . . softie.”
I press my lips together. That’s not how I thought Eli was going to end that sentence. I was expecting him to say idiot. Or maybe asshole. And I can’t deny his word choice has moved me.
“I’m sorry I messed up last night,” I murmur. “I considered last night a last hurrah before I turn into a pumpkin, you know? I truly didn’t think they’d care if I added to my dick pic collection.”
“You were already a pumpkin. That’s my whole point. The contract was effective the minute you signed it. And the infuriating part is that I told you that.”
“The good news is that, besides that one naked swan dive, I truly was a Boy Scout last night. A popular Instagram model practically begged me to take her upstairs to my room, but I said no.” I gasp. “Hey, let’s call the producers and tell them about that!”
“They already know, dumbass. Everyone already knows because that highly popular Instagrammer posted a video about her interaction with you this morning, which is now making the rounds on the internet, right alongside screenshots and videos of your gigantic dong, mid-flight.”
Twenty-One
Savage
I furrow my brow at my manager. “What do you mean the Instagrammer made a video about her interaction with me last night? There was nothing to say because I turned her down.”
“That’s exactly what she said,” Eli replies. “It’s the supposed reason you turned her down that’s making her video take off. And thank God it is, because that video is the only reason I’ve got a snowball’s chance in hell of fixing this mess for you.”
I blink in confusion. “What’d the Instagrammer say in her video?”
“Tell me your version of your conversation with her, first. Word for word, if you can.”
I release a puff of scornful air. “I can’t remember what I said to her, word for word. I was drunk. Plus, the party was noisy, so I couldn’t hear everything she said.”
Eli rolls his eyes. “Okay, I’ll get you started. She approached you at the party and said she’s a huge fan. Sound about right?”
“Yeah. But that’s what always happens. And then, she suggested we head upstairs to my hotel room for sex. Or to fuck. Something like that. And, like I said, I turned her down.”
“But what reason did you give for turning her down?”
I pause to recollect. “Honestly, I wasn’t interested in her. But I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. So, I think I said something like, ‘I can’t because of the morality clause in my contract with the show.’ Now, show me her video. I’m freaking out.”
Eli hands me his phone, all cued up. “Fair warning, this is going to piss you off. But keep in mind this video is your saving grace.”
My stomach churning, I look down at the screen in my palm, and there she is. The Instagrammer from Kai’s birthday party last night. Long, sandy hair, blue eyes, full lips. She’s gorgeous, obviously. But not my type. Apparently, besides being gorgeous, she’s also a greedy little bitch who didn’t hesitate to spew lies about me for her fifteen minutes of fame. So, good on me for sensing her character and immediately turning her down.
With a deep sigh of resignation, I press play on the video and the frozen woman on my screen instantly springs to life. “Hey, guys!” she says brightly. “You won’t believe what happened!” And off she goes, telling the story of last night’s “star-studded” birthday party. First off, she admits she basically sneaked in, thanks to a friend of a friend with a connection. Next, she talks about the famous people she saw. And, finally, she gets to the part I’ve been waiting for—the part about me. “He’s even hotter in person, guys,” she gushes. “He’s godlike in person.”
“I like her,” I declare, making Eli chuckle.
“And when I told him I’m a model,” she says, “Savage goes, ‘Well, I’m not surprised about that. You’re stunning. Actually, you know who you remind of . . .?’” She pauses for effect, her blue eyes dancing, before finishing with, “‘Laila.’”
“Oh, Jesus,” I mumble.
“Pause it,” Eli commands. And when I comply, he asks, “Did you say that?”
“I . . . I don’t know,” I stammer. “Would it be bad if I did?”
“There’s no good or bad answer here. Only the truth.”
I shrug. “I guess it’s possible. Like I said, I was drunk. And she definitely looks a bit like Laila.”
“She’s her doppelganger.”
“No way. Laila is way hotter.” Eli furrows his brow with surprise, so I quickly bark out, “Can I press play again, please?”
“Sure.”
My heart pounding, I cue the video. And once again, the woman springs to life.
“So, after some flirting,” she says, “I decided to make my move. I suggested we head to Savage’s room upstairs—”
“See?” I mutter.
“So he could make my fantasies come true. And guess what Savage said to me in reply to that? You won’t believe it. Brace yourselves. He said, ‘Sorry, I can’t . . . because of . . . Laila.’”
“Bullshit!” I blurt.
The woman clutches her heart, just above her ample breasts. “I was like, ‘I knew it!’ And Savage just laughed and winked.”
“I did not. She’s a liar.”
The Instagrammer continues, “And then, I said, ‘You’re the sweetest boyfriend, ever.’”
“Fuck!”
“And he goes, ‘I’m not being sweet. I made a promise to her, and I’m going to keep it.’”
“What the fuck?” I yell. I pause the video and practically hurl the phone at Eli. “I said none of that! Zippo. Zero! Either she’s lying, or she misheard me. I think she said something like, ‘Thanks for being so sweet about this.’ And I said, ‘I’m not being sweet. I made a promise.’ But I was talking about my contract! The morality clause! I didn’t say I couldn’t fuck her because of Laila. Why would I say that? I’d never say that! Laila never even crosses my mind!”