“So, is everything doable, then?” Nadine asks on speaker phone.
“Savage?” Eli says.
“Fine,” Savage replies.
“Laila?” Nadine asks.
“Fine for me, too,” I say. I look at Savage. “But if I’m going to babysit you, you’d better not give me any trouble.”
Savage flashes me a look that says, Hey, I make no promises. And without meaning to do it, I smile in reply.
Nadine says, “We’re a bit concerned about the relationship being outed as fake. The last thing we’d want is for a flurry of your recent hookups to come out of the woodwork and create a ‘cheating scandal’ for us. How far back can we safely say this relationship started?”
Savage and I look at each other, neither of us wanting to speak first. On my end, I haven’t been with anyone since Savage. And before him, I hadn’t been with anyone since my ex-boyfriend, Shawn. So, I’m a clean slate for the past six months. But I certainly don’t want to tell Savage that, especially not after our tiff backstage at the Video Music Awards, when I demonically fanned the flames of Savage’s ridiculous jealousy about Charlie.
“What if we were to say you two have been living together for the past . . . month?” Nadine ventures. “Would that work?”
Everyone in the room, including me, looks at Savage, since we all know his reputation with women. Indeed, from what I saw first-hand on tour, I can’t imagine Savage hasn’t been with a virtual army of women over the past month.
Nadine continues, “In theory, we could track down a few people and ask them to sign an NDA to make this work. But if we’re talking about too many people, then the risks of a leak are probably too high.”
Again, the room stares at Savage, prompting him to blurt, “Why is everyone looking at me? Laila’s the one who jumps from relationship to relationship, from basketball player to fitness trainer, without pausing to catch her breath.”
I glower at him. “Hello, pot. Meet kettle.”
“Actually, I’ve been a monk this past month. Since we got back from the tour, I’ve been keeping crazy hours in the studio, recording our new album.”
“Well, that’s a lucky break,” Nadine says. “Talk about dancing through raindrops! Laila? How about you?”
I can’t find my voice. Savage hasn’t been with anyone since we got back from touring a full month ago? I shouldn’t do it. But I have to know. I ask, “You mean everyone you’ve been with this past month has already signed an NDA, so you’re all set?”
“No, I mean I haven’t been with anyone. I’ve practically been living in the studio, except for when I flew home to Chicago for a short visit. I’ve barely had time to work out this past month, let alone screw around.”
I make a face that says, Color me shocked.
“Laila?” Nadine repeats. “Can you make that timeline work on your end?”
Crap. I’ve so enjoyed letting Savage think I had a torrid fling with Charlie the Personal Trainer during the tour—and that, maybe, said fling has continued since then, right up until last night. But, oh well. I’ve got no choice. On the bright side, Nadine only asked about this past month. If I had to admit the full truth, that I haven’t had sex with anyone, other than Savage, over the past six months, I’m certain I’d die of humiliation.
I clear my throat. “I’m all clear for the past month, too. I’ve been really busy myself.”
Savage’s face is lit up like the Fourth of July. “You’ve been busy doing what?” he asks. Surely, he knows I haven’t been hard at work on my next album. Not this soon, when my current album is still spitting out singles. Luckily, though, I’ve got a fairly credible answer at the ready. One rooted in truth, even if it’s not entirely true.
“I’ve been working a ton on a couple of side projects,” I reply. “A collaboration with 22 Goats and a duet with Alessandra Tennison—the one from the video shoot? Her single is doing so well, she got a full-album deal.”
“Good for her,” Savage says, apparently believing my every word.
I sigh with relief. The projects I’ve mentioned are real. But while I’ve laid down vocals for both tracks this past month, the time commitment for both projects combined amounted to only two sessions in the vocal booth. Hardly enough time to claim I’ve been “working a ton” this past month. In reality, I’ve been decompressing from the tour. Hanging out with my family, binge-watching shows, working out, and making weird butter dishes, bowls, and vases on my pottery wheel for friends and family who’ll never use them. But there’s no way I’m letting Savage know I’ve been a lazy bum this past month, with ample time, but zero interest, in dating.
“So, have we heard all your terms, Nadine?” Daria asks.
“Yes,” Nadine confirms. “Are Savage and Laila prepared to agree to all of them?”
Looks are exchanged on our end of the call. Nonverbal confirmations given.
Daria announces, “Yes. Savage and Laila agree to everything.”
A cheer erupts on Nadine’s end of the call.
“Wonderful!” Nadine says. “We’ll email the contracts to you within the hour and—"
“Whoa,” Daria interjects, holding up her palm, despite Nadine not being here to witness the hand gesture. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We still need to deal with the small matter of Laila’s salary before—”
“Laila’s salary?” Nadine booms, sounding genuinely flabbergasted.
Daria furrows her brow. “Of course. Now that Savage and Laila have agreed to your terms, the next item on the agenda is negotiating—"
“Fucking hell, it is!” Nadine shouts, going from zero to sixty in a heartbeat. “This whole conversation, we’ve been assuming Savage and Laila had already worked out Laila’s additional compensation on their end!”
“What?” Eli shouts. “Of course, not!”
Nadine counters, “Of course! We assumed you called us to offer two judges for the price of one!”
Well, that’s it. Eli loses his mind, going off on a diatribe that makes Daria sit back in her chair, calmly steeple her fingers, and smile. And that’s how I know this isn’t a glitch. This isn’t a sign that everything is falling apart. That, in fact, as far as my brilliant and conniving agent is concerned, everything is going exactly according to plan.
Savage leans into me. “Sorry it didn’t work out for you, Fitzy. Honestly, I was pulling for you.”
“Thanks for trying,” I say. And it’s all I can do not to smile wickedly as I say it. I don’t know what Daria is up to, exactly. But whatever it is, I’m here for it.
After much shouting on the phone call, Nadine says to Eli, “I told you, quite clearly this morning, we don’t have another cent in the budget to add to Laila’s salary. We offered her a deal where she’d be Savage’s mentor for three episodes, and that’s all the money we’ve got at our disposal. Any compensation Laila requires in order to be promoted to a full-fledged judge this season—which, by the way, would give her the kind of publicity money simply can’t buy—would need to come out of Savage’s pocket, not ours.”