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I twist my mouth. She’s got a point. “Still,” I say, “the fun in that wouldn’t outweigh the discomfort I’d feel at seeing him.”
“Why do you hate him so much?” Daria narrows her eyes. “You two really did get together, didn’t you? You fell for him, and he cheated on you?”
“Oh, God, no. Daria, listen. I sincerely appreciate you looking out for me and fighting so hard for my career, but there’s no point in having this meeting with Savage and his agent. The show won’t offer me enough to tempt me. And you said yourself three episodes as a mentor won’t make that much more of an impact than one.”
“You’re misconstruing what I said.”
“Regardless, it’s not like they’re offering me a seat at the judges’ table with a paycheck to match. So, let’s just—"
“Well, now we’re getting somewhere,” Daria interrupts. “Are you saying, if I could get you that—a seat at the judges’ table with a paycheck to match—you’d say yes?”
My lips part in surprise that she’s even saying that out loud. “They already said they don’t want me as a judge. Hence, the reason they hired Savage to replace Hugh, rather than me.”
“True, but that happened before today—before that woman’s video went off like an atomic bomb on the internet.” She leans back and swivels in her chair. “I could be wrong, but I’ve got a hunch the landscape dramatically shifted underneath Savage’s feet this morning. Don’t you think it’s a bit weird his agent called me, asking for this meeting? He made it sound like Savage was willing to do you a favor by saying yes to this . . . but would Savage really do a favor for you?”
“Absolutely not.” I pause. “So . . . what, then?”
“I’d bet money Savage’s job is on the line this morning, thanks to his shenanigans last night. My hunch is that Savage’s head is on the chopping block, and thanks to that woman’s video, and everything that’s come before, the producers have made you a condition of Savage’s continued employment.”
My mouth hangs open as my eyes widen with glee.
“Now you understand why I begged you to come down here for this meeting. If I’m right about Savage’s job depending on you, and if I’m right about the show practically drooling over this idea, then I think I can leverage both sides against the other to get you an offer you simply can’t refuse.”
I clutch my heart, feeling like it’s beating a mile a minute. “Okay, this might be a stupid question, but if you’re right about Savage’s job being on the line, then why wouldn’t I say no to being his fake girlfriend, thereby getting Savage shit-canned, and then swoop in and take his job?”
Daria shakes her head. “I’m sorry, honey. If they fire Savage, I’m sure they’ll replace him with some other heartthrob. On your own, your platform simply isn’t big enough yet. But with Savage, you’re in the cat’s seat. So let’s agree to help Savage keep his seat at the judges’ table . . . as long as he agrees to help you get a seat right next to his.”
I gasp. “At the judges’ table? Not as his mentor?”
“Correct. For the entire season. With a salary to match.”
I’m reeling. Losing my mind. “You really think that’s possible?”
“It’s a long shot, so don’t get too excited. But it’s worth a try. My gut tells me Savage is desperate, and the producers are frothing at the mouth. So, let’s see if we can exploit all of it to your advantage.”
I look out the floor-to-ceiling window of Daria’s office at the glamorous hustle-bustle of Beverly Hills for a moment, trying to collect myself. And when I finally return to my agent, I can’t hide it. I’m excited. “Okay,” I say on an exhale. “Let’s give it a try.”
As Daria whoops, a buzzing noise rises up from the intercom on her desk, followed by a male voice announcing, “Ms. Brown, Eli McKenzie and his client are here to see you.”
A demonic smirk lifts one half of Daria’s mouth. “Keep a poker face at all times. If I say something blatantly false, nod your head subtly and roll with it.”
“Got it.”
Daria presses a button on the intercom with her long fingernail and says sweetly, “Thank you, Hunter. Please, escort my guests to my office.” She winks at me. “We’re ready for them.”
Twenty-Three
Savage
The office door opens and a striking Black woman I vaguely recognize is standing before Eli and me. She says hello to Eli, whom she clearly already knows, and introduces herself to me as Daria Brown, before leading us into her elegant office.
We follow Daria into the spacious room and find Laila sitting in a corner, her body language in her armchair like she owns the place.
When Eli and I reach Laila, she doesn’t stand. Eli greets Laila with a handshake, but I don’t bother extending my hand. She won’t take it, anyway.
