Lauren Rowe
LAILA
As we await our cue to enter the press conference in the next room, we hear the voice of the show’s longtime host, Sunshine Vaughn, as she cheerily welcomes the assembled press—the reporters and influencers who’ve come here today on a Sunday afternoon to interview the show’s judges, and especially to hear the “shocking announcement” they’ve been promised is going to “rock their worlds.” Although I’m sure every last one of them would have flocked here, regardless, if only to tour the legendary mansion of Reed Rivers and get to interview Hugh Delaney’s buzzworthy replacement—the savagely sexy rock star whose face and abs have become as much of a permanent fixture on magazine covers lately as his dick has become one on Twitter. And, oh yeah, the dude also sings and plays his guitar pretty well, too.
I take a deep breath to calm my racing heart, and in reaction to my body language, Savage squeezes my hand, leans in, and whispers, “You’re gonna be great. The world is going to fall head over heels for you.”
Aloha, who’s standing in front of us, turns around and says, “Amen, sister. The world is going to love you, Laila, every bit as much as I do.”
“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me,” I say to Aloha. “You’ve been my guardian angel.” I look at Savage. “And thank you, too. Being on this show is a dream come true for me. I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t said yes to every ridiculous demand by the producers and my agent. I’m grateful to you.”
Savage shakes his head. “You saved my ass, Laila. This show is my grandma’s all-time favorite, and I’d already told her I was going to be a judge when the shit hit the fan for me yesterday. You did me a huge favor by saving me from having to tell her I’d gotten myself fired.”
I press my lips together. The hits just keep on coming. Savage agreed to do the show for his ailing grandma. How did I not know about this man’s diehard devotion to his grandmother before now?
In the other room, the show’s host bellows, “And now, let’s welcome our panel of judges!” Excited applause rises up as Sunshine says, “First off, it’s our resident Teddy Bear…Jon Stapleton!” A production assistant cues Jon, prompting him to head into the adjacent room. Sunshine continues, “And now, it’s our beloved queen…Aloha Carmichael!” The PA waves Aloha into the room, and her entrance elicits even louder applause than Jon’s. “And noooow…” Sunshine teases, prompting a hushed anticipation to fall over the press conference. “Please, welcome our ~two~ new judges! That’s right, we’ve got not ~one~, but ~two~ new judges this season: Savage from Fugitive Summer ~and~ his gorgeous and talented ~girlfriend, ~a superstar on the rise…Miss Laila Fitzgerald!”
A collective gasp rises up as Savage and I appear, our hands clasped and happy smiles plastered on our faces—and by the time we’re taking our assigned seats between Jon and Aloha at a table facing the assembled press, the room is pure pandemonium.
Once we’re seated, there’s a photo shoot for a long moment, as Savage and I, along with our two fellow judges, oscillate our smiling faces like sprinklers on a lawn, allowing every camera in the room to get a perfect shot of this season’s judges. Although, based on the number of reporters shouting at Savage and me, specifically, it seems the lion’s share of photos being snapped are of the happy couple.
“Let’s get to your questions!” Sunshine calls out, before pointing at one of the reporters.
The reporter stands. “Savage and Laila, are you really a couple or is this a publicity stunt?”
Well, that was fast.
“We’re a couple,” Savage answers smoothly, sliding his arm around me, and I instinctively rest my cheek on his broad shoulder.
“In fact,” I say, “we’ve recently moved in together.”
The room titters in response to that little nugget.
A reporter shouts, “So, Laila, did you lie about Savage during your interview on Sylvia?”
I lift my head from Savage’s shoulder and grimace at my fake boyfriend.
“Time to ’fess up, babe,” he says, smirking.
Sighing dramatically, I address the room. “Yeah, I lied through my teeth!” Everyone chuckles, along with Savage. “I wanted to keep our relationship under wraps for a bit longer, so we could make sure it was rock solid before we subjected ourselves to worldwide attention.”
Savage nods. “I respected where Laila was coming from on that, even though I was ready to shout about my feelings for Laila from the rooftops. Laila said she didn’t want to feel pressure to ‘perform’ our relationship for the world, and I understood that.”
Clever boy. He just paraphrased something I said to Sylviaabout why I don’t like making my relationships “Instagram official.”
Savage continues, “But then, when that Instagrammer made her video, broadcasting to the world everything I’d drunkenly babbled to her in private, I told Laila, ‘There’s no turning back now, babe. Let’s make it official!’ But before we’d decided how or when to do that, the producers called to say they’d decided topromote Laila from mentor to judge this season.” He smiles at me. “And now, here we are.”
“Ah, so this is a publicity stunt,” a reporter yells.
“No, not at all,” Savage insists. “The powers that be at the show determined Laila sitting at the judges’ table would make things especially fun and interesting this season. But that doesn’t make our relationship any less real. All that means is Laila and I will get to spend a whole lot more time together over the next few months.” He looks at me and smiles. “Which is a great thing, as far as we’re concerned. Who wouldn’t leap at the chance to work with the person they’re head over heels in love with?”
Whoa. The man is ~good.~
“How long have you two been together?” that same reporter asks, all prior skepticism gone from his tone.
“It happened little by little during our tour,” Savage explains. “But we’ve been glued at the hip for about the past month.”
“To be clear,” I interject, my finger raised, “I wasn’t lying to Sylvia when I said Savage and I didn’t get along during most of the tour. As a matter of fact, we couldn’t stand each other for a large portion of it.”
“No, you couldn’t stand ~me~,” Savage corrects, making everyone chuckle. “And rightly so. I was like a kid pulling her pigtails on the playground, guys. But after we got back from the tour, I called Laila and charmed her pants off…~literally~.” Everyone guffaws, while I bat Savage’s shoulder playfully. “And then, everything took off from there, on a rocket.” Savage leans forward. “That ‘rocket’ being the one in my pants.”
As the room explodes at Savage’s raunchy comment, Sunshine chokes out, “It’s a family show, Savage.” But by the expression on Nadine Collins’ face at the back of the room, it’s clear our executive producer isn’t upset in the least about Savage’s sexual innuendo. In fact, her expression makes it clear the head honcho is pleased as punch.
“How’d you convince Laila to board your rocket, Savage?” someone shouts.
“Have you seen me?” he says cheekily. And, again, everyone in the room rolls with laughter. Savage waves the air in front of him. “No, no. Actually, it required some good old- fashioned grovelingto get things going with Laila. I called her after the tour and apologized for my bad behavior, and, thankfully, things took off from there.” He looks at me. “I’m not the best at apologizing, usually. At least, not first. But, somehow, my desire to win Laila over outweighed my ego and pride.” He kisses the top of my hand that’s still clasped in his. “It was the best decision I’ve ever made.”
Awwww, everyone in the room says in unison. And I must admit, I’m swooning along with them. I know, intellectually, this is all fake. A pitch-perfect performance from one of the world’s best performers. But my heart and body can’t resist reacting to this moment as if what Savage is saying is very, ~very~ real.
“What’d you think when Savage called and groveled, Laila?” someone yells.
I look at my fake boyfriend adoringly. “I thought ‘Is this a prank?’”
Everyone chuckles.
“But then, Savage shocked me by letting down his guard. He told me some personal things that made me realize I’d misjudged him during the tour. And that’s when he really turned on the charm.” I grin at Savage. “He told me that, ever since we’d been home from tour, he’d been desperately missing my ‘beautiful face,’ and—”
“No,” Savage interrupts. “I said I’d been missing your beautiful smug face. And I didn’t use the word ‘desperately.’”
“Yes, you did.”
“That word isn’t in my vocabulary.”
“Well, it was that day.” I address the crowd, rolling my eyes, and it’s clear they’re eating up this interaction with a spoon. “Savage told me he’d been ‘desperately’ missing my ‘beautiful smug face’—I admit he used the word ‘smug.’ And then, he said he was sorry for being such a ‘jerk’ to me during the tour. He explained he’d had some personal stuff going on during that time that had been difficult for him, and my heart cracked wide open.” I look into Savage’s dark eyes. “After that, this man crawled right into the crack in my heart he created that day, during that first phone call, and he’s never crawled back out.”
Savage is blushing, which I find surprising. Humans can’t fake blushing, can they?
“I feel like I should mention,” Savage says, “Laila apologized to me, too, during that first phone call. Don’t leave me hanging out here, looking like too big a softie, Laila.”
“Yes, it’s true. I apologized to him, too. Profusely. If Savage had been a kid pulling my pigtails on the playground, then I’d been the annoying girl who’d purposely tried to provoke that exact reaction. Lucky for me, Savage accepted my apology, and we both agreed to press the reset button. And we haven’t looked back, ever since.”
A collective swoon rises up in the room and Savage and I look away from each other again. And this time, Savage isn’t the only one blushing.
“Thank you for sharing that beautiful story,” Sunshine says reverently. She looks at the crowd. “I don’t know about you, but I’m all aflutter here. Wow.” She returns to Savage and me. “Tell us about your first date.”
Savage says, “At the end of our first phone call, Laila invited me to her place for pizza. And I was like, ‘Pizza? No, I’ll cook for you!’”
I interject, “So, he came over to my place that night and made me a phenomenal meal, and”—I smirk suggestively at Savage—“we’ve been inseparable ever since.”
The crowd applauds.
“Wonderful!” Sunshine bellows. “And now, are there any questions for Jon and Aloha?”
Nadine at the back of the room shakes her head sharply, telling our host it’s not yet time to shift focus to the other judges. And Sunshine, pro that she is, instantly changes course. “Actually, the floor still belongs to Savage and Laila! Any other questions for our happy couple?”
A reporter yells, “Laila, what did you think when you found out Savage had let the cat out of the bag about your relationship to Sheree Dawson—the influencer who then made that viral video? Were you mad? Sheree’s got a huge following and notoriously loves Savage and Fugitive Summer, so he must have known she’d post something.”
“To be clear,” Savage interjects, before I’ve replied, “I had no idea who she was. But I do admit I was drunk and burstingat the seams to tell the world about Laila and me by then. So, you do the math. I’m not known for making sound decisions on my best day—but particularly not when I’ve been drinking.”
The entire room chuckles. Surely, all of them thinking of Savage’s naked swan dive into that hotel pool.
“What exactly did you say to Sheree, Savage?” the reporter asks.
“I said she reminded me of Laila, which she did,” Savage replies. “And I guess, once I said Laila’s name to her, it was like I’d broken the seal or something—and, suddenly, I couldn’t stop myself from babbling everything about us.”
“Adrian’s always got loose lips when he drinks,” I say, pinching Savage’s chiseled cheek. “But I wasn’t mad at him when I saw the video. In fact, I thought it was sweet he couldn’t keep our secret any longer. I mean, my boyfriend spilled the beans while turning down a woman who was flirting with him. What girlfriend could be mad about that, at the end of the day?”
After a few more questions, Sunshine steers the conversation away from Savage and me toward Aloha and Jon for a bit—although, in keeping with today’s apparent theme, the first reporter called upon asks Aloha and Jon what they think of the addition of Savage and me to the show.
As Aloha and Jon talk, my mind wanders. It seemed preposterous to think Savage might have mentioned my name, at all, to that Instagrammer when I first saw the video. I assumed she was chasing her fifteen minutes of fame. But after hearing Savage’s smooth explanation of what supposedly went down—it seems logical that he might have at least commented on how much she looks like me. Could the story he told just now be based on a kernel of truth? Surely, she misheard Savage when he went on to say he had to “lay low” because of the show. But is it possible Savage thought of mewhen he saw that woman, and then actually said my name to her?
“Hey, Savage,” a reporter says, jerking me from my thoughts. “Are there any songs about Laila on your band’s upcoming album?”
“No,” Savage says, and I sigh with relief. “The album was written before Laila and I got together.”
Another reporter asks, “Are you two planning to release any music together, now that the world knows about you?”
To my surprise, Reed Rivers, who’s been standing at the back of the room next to Nadine Collins, answers before Savage or me. “They are!” Reed calls out. “Stay tuned for details.”
“They’re going to premiere a song during the finale!” Nadine shouts.
And that’s that. I look at Savage, as if to say, Well, that took a turn, and he smiles mischievously, letting me know he’s on board for this brazen money grab. I don’t blame him, really. If someone swooped in and unexpectedly snaked two million bucks out of my pocket, I’d be down to make some of it back with a hit song, too. Especially one advertised and performed on national TV.
A reporter stands and introduces herself to Savage and me as a writer for a popular women’s magazine. She says, “I know my readers would love to know what you two love about each other, if you wouldn’t mind speaking to that.”
“Savage?” I say, feeling my heart rate spike. How can I possibly answer that question, even for pretend?
But Savage is the portrait of ease and charm. He says, “Actually, this is an easy one. Obviously, Laila is physically gorgeous. I love that she looks like she could murder me in my sleep, right after coming home from cheerleading practice.”
Everyone in the room, including me, chuckles at that description.
“Also, she’s incredibly talented,” he continues. “I can’t tell you how many times she’s given me goosebumps with her voice. But, at the end of the day, it’s Laila’s personality that attracts me the most. I love that she’s tough and fierce, but also a softie. In fact, Laila can be downright goofy, once you get to know her. Like, when she misses a shot in a game of HORSE, for example, she’ll fall to the ground and writhe around like she’s been shot.”
My eyebrows shoot up to my hairline. How’d Savage know about that? He was nowhere near the basketball court when I did that at Reed’s party. Or, at least, not that I saw. Wasn’t he hitting on that pretty Asian woman by the pool around that time?
Savage’s dark eyes locked with mine, he says, “I also love how close Laila is with her family—her mom, sister, and baby niece. How easily she makes friends. During our tour, everyone loved Laila. Musicians, makeup artists, roadies, caterers, bus drivers. ~Everyone. ~Laila even went to weekly game nights with the crew. But did they invite me, even once? ~Nope~.”
“You’re a huge star,” I say. “It was nothing personal.”
“That’s not why, Laila. They invited you because you make every person you meet feel special. Like they’re your friend. That’s a rare gift—and one I certainly don’t possess.”
Heat is wafting between us. Without thinking about it, I lean in and give Savage a peck on the lips. Even if that speech was a load of complete crap, it’s making my heart flutter and sending butterflies into my belly. Without hesitation, Savage grabs my face and turns my peck into a whopper of a kiss—a deep and passionate one that sends electricity scorching into every nerve ending of my body while setting off fireworks in my abdomen.
The assembled press in the room variously titters and whoops. Cameras begin clicking furiously, capturing every moment of our kiss.
“Wow, guys,” Sunshine Vaughn says, when Savage finally releases me from his hungry lips. “I’m swooning here, right along with Laila.”
I look down at the table, breathing hard, realizing Sunshine is right: I’m physically swooning. Literally, dizzy with adrenaline and excitement. And not only because of the passionate kiss Savage bestowed upon me, in front of the world, but also because of the speech he gave right before it. Were any parts of Savage’s speech based in truth—or was ~all~ of it for show?
Sunshine says, “Your turn, Laila. What do you love about Savage?”
I force my blushing face to address Savage. His cheeks are flushed. His dark eyes sparkling. I take a deep breath and say, “Well, he’s obviously physically gorgeous, as you can see, and incredibly talented and charismatic and charming. The whole world is in love with this man, for all of those reasons, so it shouldn’t be hard to understand why I feel the same way.”
There. I did it.
Sunshine says, “But what’s something we don’t know about him, that you do? Something you find endearing about your boyfriend, behind closed doors?”
Fuck.
Seriously?
I look into Savage’s dark eyes again, and realize this question isn’t all that difficult to answer, after all. A day ago, it would have been impossible. But after the conversation I had with Savage on Reed’s patio a few minutes ago, I feel like there’s a whole other side to Adrian Savage I didn’t appreciate before.
“Well, I love how devoted Adrian is to his family,” I say, looking into Savage’s soulful, dark eyes. “His family is his top priority and he’d do anything for them. I don’t think everyone knows that about him.” Images of Savage from during the tour flash across my mind, making me realize I’d witnessed his softer side, many times. I just didn’t give those aspects of his personality their proper due, up until now. I continue, “Savage will do anything for his friends.” I chuckle. “Including drunkenly jumping naked into a hotel swimming pool as a friend’s birthday gift.”
Everyone in the room laughs with glee.
“He’s also surprisingly goofy. The same as me, actually. He doesn’t do it all that often—but, on occasion, Savage belly laughs with those closest to him. And when he does, it’s the sweetest, most endearing sound you’ll ever hear. It’s like the clouds part when Adrian Savage laughs from the depths of his soul, and the entire world is bathed in glorious sunshine.”
Savage’s chest heaves. His nostrils flare. His body language reflecting back to me how I’m feeling as I stare into his chocolate eyes.
I swallow hard. “Adrian is protective and supportive, too. He tells me to demand what I’m worth and not settle for anything less. He’s also a thoughtful boyfriend. He knows I can’t stand the smell or taste of cigarettes, so he quit smoking, just for me. When I was sick, he took care of me. Held my hair for me when I threw up.” I bite my lower lip. “And, of course, it doesn’t hurt that he’s literally the sexiest man on Earth.” I press my lips together, signaling that’s all I’ve got, and Savage leans in and kisses me again—this time, even more passionately than before.
The crowd applauds, while Sunshine, our host, laughingly says, “Hey, it’s a family show, guys.”
Savage and I break apart, both of us breathing hard, and as the place explodes with raucous applause, Savage lays his palm on my thigh under the table, letting me know his arousal is most definitely not for show.
“Okay, before these two need a room,” Sunshine says, “I think we’d better get our mentors out here. Four judges this season means ~four ~mentors! And here they are!” She motions to the side door and calls out each mentor’s name, one by one, and they appear in order and stand behind their respective judge at the table.
There are a flurry of questions for the group—but, thankfully, no curveballs or surprises—and, finally, Sunshine wraps things up.
“Thank you for coming today! Full promo packages have been sent to you via email.”
I look at Savage, ready to flash him a look of relief that the press conference is over, but he’s eyeing my mentor behind me like he’s plotting murder.
“Hey,” I whisper sharply, squeezing Savage’s thigh, and he turns around and smiles at the crowd again. But it’s too late. His jealousy was on full display. Clearly, he’s trying to figure out why the producers chose Colin, of all people—a drummer known more for his recent underwear campaign than his singing—as my mentor. And I must admit, I’m wondering the same thing. Colin and I have never been anything but friends. But there’s no denying our chemistry. Also, I can’t help remembering I offered up Colin on Sylvia as someone I’ve been wrongly linked with, right before I denied the rumors about Savage and me. Did the producers notice that little detail, too?
“Back to the greenroom, guys,” a PA says to the cast. And, in short order, all eight of us exit the press conference and head back into Reed’s game room. The minute we get to our destination, I begin walking toward Colin, intending to ask him what the producers said to him when they hired him. Did they mention what I said on Sylvia as one of the reasons they’d picked him? But before I’ve reached Colin, Nadine, the executive producer of the show, hugs me and pulls me over to Savage.
“You two are geniuses!” Nadine blurts, her angular face aflame. “We had ~extremely~ high expectations about you two this season. But now that I’ve seen the goosebumps you’re capable of delivering, I can already tell we didn’t aim nearly high enough.”