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“Do you think I’m stupid?” He leans back in his armchair. “Laila doesn’t know you need her. I made sure the producers won’t tell her that.”
I flap my lips together. “Fine. I’ll do my best. But I’ll need to call Laila from your phone, because the little psychopath blocked my number during the tour.”
Eli scoffs. “You’re not gonna call Laila, dumbass. You’re gonna do this in person.”
“What?”
He stands. “Come on. Get showered and dressed, Player, while I call room service for some coffee and breakfast for you. And make sure you put on some cologne and make yourself look extra irresistible. Your future fake girlfriend and her agent are expecting us at noon.”
Twenty-Two
Laila
“Look, I get that you think Savage is an arrogant jerk,” my agent, Daria, says, although she doesn’t know the half of it. “But I think you should put your emotions aside and think about this as a business decision, Laila. I really think this could be a game changer for you.”
I’m sitting across from Daria in her Beverly Hills office. I’m in jeans and a T-shirt. She’s dressed like the goddess she is in a Gucci pantsuit and large gold hoops. And, honestly, I don’t know why I’m here, seeing as how we’ve already talked about this on the phone and I’ve told her the offer is a non-starter. If it were anyone else, I would have refused to race down here to talk about the producers’ crazy offer, yet again, only this time in person. But I suppose, at the end of the day, I respect my agent’s opinion far too much to ignore an “urgent” request from her.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “Like I said on the phone, I couldn’t pull off a fake romance, even if I wanted to. My dislike of Savage runs too deep. After one episode, let alone three, the whole world would know I’m a liar.”
“Aw, I have faith in your performance skills,” Daria coaxes. “All you’d have to do is focus on nothing but Savage’s physical beauty, and ignore everything else about him, and, voila, you’d convince yourself he’s the great love of your life.” She leans forward across her sleek desk. “In other words, I’m telling you to think like a man.”
We both giggle at the joke.
Daria leans back in her high-back chair again, steepling her fingers. “Do you think you’d be able to fall in ‘fake love’ with Savage for the right price?”
I shake my head. “You know they reserve the real money in their budget for the judges. They’d never offer me anything even close to what I’d need to feel tempted.”
Daria lifts an eyebrow. “Ah, so you admit there is a number, at least, theoretically, that could make you say yes.”
“Hypothetically, sure. But whatever that number is—and, honestly, I don’t know what it would be—the show would never offer it to me, so it’s a moot point.”
Daria looks like the gears in her head are turning. “I’m not so sure about that. When I spoke to the executive producer, Nadine, this morning, she played it cool, but I could tell she was dying to make this happen. Thanks to that video of you and Savage arguing on the sidewalk in New York, and your interview on Sylvia, and, the meme from the awards show, and now, this Instagrammer’s viral video, I don’t think it’s an understatement to say you and Savage are a powerhouse. A shoo-in to grab massive ratings. Surely, Nadine knows that.”
None of this is new information. Daria said all of this, essentially, during our conversation on the phone.
When I shrug and say nothing, simply because I don’t believe for a minute the show would pay me what it would take, Daria puts her elbows onto her desk and smiles.
“What do you make of that Instagram video?” she asks. “Do you think she was telling the truth about what Savage said?”
I snort. “Heck no. If a beautiful woman suggested going upstairs, I guarantee I didn’t even cross Savage’s mind. Obviously, that Instagrammer came up with a story she knew would make her video go viral.”
Daria looks unconvinced. “Well, for God’s sake, don’t let on you don’t believe the video when you see Savage. Let him think you believe every single word.”
“I don’t plan to see him. Even when I’m on-set in a few weeks, I’m going to avoid him like the plague.”
Daria smirks. “Actually, you’ll be seeing Savage sooner than you think.” She looks at her watch. “He was supposed to be here five minutes ago, actually.”
“Daria!”
She shrugs. “His agent called and begged me for a meeting and I felt it would be in your best interests to hear him out.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “I don’t want to see him.”
“Come on. At the very least, won’t it be fun to torture him by pretending you believe every word that woman said? That has to be his worst nightmare.”
