“You two really would be ratings gold,” Nadine says wistfully. “Great job, guys. If this ‘fight’ was your clever way of coaxing us to throw some more money into the pot for Laila, consider your tactic a success. We really don’t have another dime in the budget to offer, but in an effort to close the deal, we’re willing to offer Laila a performance slot in the finale.”
Whoa.
That’s the brass ring. The kind of publicity that catapults any song straight into the Top Ten, if not to Number One.
I look at Daria and she winks, yet again confirming everything is going exactly according to plan.
Eli interjects, “Savage would require a performance slot, as well.”
Nadine exhales with annoyance. “Hold, please.” She places the call on hold for an eternal moment, during which Savage and I exchange dirty looks to the beat of the elevator version of “Fuck You” by CeeLo Green. Finally, Nadine returns to the call and declares, “Okay. We’ll give Savage and Laila a shared performance slot in the finale. They can do a mash-up of their respective singles, or anything else they come up with. But we only have one performance slot to offer the happy couple, collectively. So they’ll have to learn to share.”
Savage and I look at each other, conciliation slowly passing between us. It’s not ideal, granted. But we could make it work. We might both have been posturing like peacocks with splayed tails for the past few minutes, but there’s no denying a performance slot in the finale, even a shared one, is too big a perk to pass up.
“I could make that work,” Savage murmurs.
I nod and look away, letting him know I agree, but only barely.
“Laila is on board, too,” Daria says. “Unhappy about it but on board.”
“Wonderful,” Nadine says. “So, can I finally send over the contracts, then?”
“Not quite yet,” Daria replies. “We have a deal, as far as you’re concerned. But we still need to reach an agreement on our end about Laila’s compensation.”
“Jesus Christ, Daria,” Eli snaps. “Savage isn’t going to pay Laila a dime out of his pocket!”
Daria shrugs nonchalantly. “Then I’m sorry to say the deal is dead.” She smiles ruefully at the phone on her desk. “Thank you for your time, everyone. We’re sorry we couldn’t make this work, but Laila is still thrilled to be Aloha’s mentor for one episode this season.”
“Eli!” Nadine barks. “Don’t be a fool! Negotiate with Laila about her compensation. For the love of all things holy, Savage is the one who screwed everything up here—so, if someone has to lose an ass cheek to make this work, it’s going to be him!”
Savage and his agent exchange a look, and I know, in my bones, Savage realizes the truth of what Nadine said. It’s a surprising development, to say the least, to witness Savage being so willing to make this work. Especially given what I know he thinks of this show. He said himself, in Philadelphia, he thinks it’s cringey-ass. So, why did he say yes to being Hugh’s replacement in the first place? And why is he fighting so hard to keep his job now? All I can think is the show must have offered Savage an arm, a leg, and two huge butt cheeks to do the show—some amount of money that made Savage willing to endure the “hives” he’s sure to contract every time he steps on-set.
I look at Daria and it’s instantly clear she’s thinking what I’m thinking. How much money did the show offer Savage to get him to say yes?
“Hey, Nadine,” Daria says, leaning over the phone on her desk. “What’s Savage’s salary this season?”
“Don’t answer that,” Savage’s agent barks. “That’s none of her business.”
“I can’t divulge that,” Nadine confirms.
Daria places her palms on her desk, on either side of her phone. “I know what Aloha is making this season. Ten mill.” She looks up at Savage, apparently trying to gauge his reaction. “I’m guessing, all things considered, Savage’s deal would be significantly less than that. Maybe . . . a third of that?”
“Say nothing, Nadine,” Eli shouts.
“I can’t confirm or deny,” Nadine replies. But something in her tone feels a whole lot like she’s screaming, “Confirm, confirm, confirm!” Daria turns her dark, sultry eyes on Eli. “Come on, Mr. McKenzie,” she coos. “Let’s get this deal done. Both of our clients stand to make a shit-ton of money from endorsements and increased music sales after the season.”
The adults in the room begin sparring, and while they do that, Savage sidles up to me at the proverbial kiddie table, his body language cocky and decidedly sexual. He takes an empty armchair next to me.
“Hey, Fitzy,” he says, like we’re back in Providence, sharing a bottle of booze outside the twins’ birthday party in the moonlight.
“You can’t charm me into taking less money,” I say flatly.
Savage bites his lower lip, well aware he looks irresistible when he does that. “I’m not trying to charm you into doing anything. I’m merely pointing out that, if we do this, we’ll be stuck together in a kickass house—with a hot tub—for three months.” He licks his lips in a way I’ve seen him do many, many times. Like he’s thinking about performing oral sex. “I’m saying all the orgasms I could give you during our fake romance should be factored into your calculations. I’d think they’d be worth something.”
I roll my eyes, even as every inch of my skin erupts in lustful goosebumps. “Not gonna happen. I told you that was a one-time thing that will never happen again.”
Savage straightens up, all hint of seduction gone. “I’m not paying you a dime, Laila. Everything Daria’s already negotiated for you is well beyond anything you dreamed was possible when you woke up this morning. So, stop being greedy.”
I clench my jaw. “I’m not being greedy. This is business, and I’m letting my agent get me the best deal possible, which is exactly what your agent initially did for you, and what he’s also doing now. Don’t think, even for a minute, your donkey dick is some kind of dangling carrot for me.”
“Sure, bunny. You’re not any more believable now than you were on Sylvia.”
“If anyone is being greedy, it’s you. You’re the one who messed up, not me. So, you should be the one to have to sacrifice to fix your mess.”
Sexual heat washes over him. He leans forward sharply, sending his sexy cologne into my nostrils. “You wanna see me being greedy, sweetheart? Then let me eat your pussy. I’ll show you a kind of greed that’ll take your breath away.”
I inhale sharply, taken aback by the hungry look in his eyes.
“Laila!” Daria barks from across the room. “Stop talking to him right now!”
I lean back sharply, feeling like a kid who’s been caught saying a curse word. “He wasn’t convincing me of anything,” I blurt. But even I can hear the lie in my tone.
“Oh, jeez,” Daria mutters, throwing up her hands. “Seriously? The world is full of big dicks, Laila. He’s got nothing to offer that can’t be found elsewhere.” She leans into the speaker phone. “Nadine, we’re gonna have to call you back. Savage is trying to charm the pants off my client, literally.”