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When I get close enough to overhear Laila and Colin’s conversation, Laila is in the middle of saying, “No, I swear! Savage told her he had to ‘lay low.’ He didn’t say Laila. But the producers ran with it. It’s all about ratings, baby.”
“Hilarious,” Colin says.
“Laila,” I bark out, lurching forward and invading their personal space. “I need to speak with you, my love. Right now.”
“Is something wrong?”
“Yes, something is very, very wrong.” I pull her up, avoiding Colin’s glare, and yank her across the patio and into Reed’s house, down a hallway, and through a random door, which empties into a laundry room.
“What the hell?” Laila blurts, as I whirl around from shutting the door.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I demand, my heart racing.
“What? When?”
“Your conversation with Colin!” I shout. “I heard every word, Laila.”
She wrinkles her forehead, apparently not understanding. “Every word about what?”
“You told him the truth about our ‘relationship’!”
“So?”
“You’re not supposed to tell anyone! It’s top secret!”
She’s flabbergasted. “But Colin’s my mentor. He’s part of the show! We agreed on the way over here we could tell anyone from the show, remember?”
“No, that’s not at all what we agreed. Not anyone. We agreed I could tell Kendrick because he’s my best friend and is also on the show. And you could tell Aloha for the same reason. We didn’t decide we could run around telling every single person in the entire cast and crew!”
“But Colin is my friend and assigned mentor. I trust him. Besides, he signed a contract today that surely contained a confidentiality—”
“We’re not telling anyone but Kendrick and Aloha!” I shout, sounding like a maniac, even to myself. “That’s what we agreed. As far as Colin or anyone else needs to know, we’re an actual couple, Laila. You’re my girlfriend. You’re in love with me. Head over heels and totally addicted.” Suddenly, I stop short, as the upside of what Laila said to Colin suddenly hits me like a ton of bricks. “Wait. You admit I didn’t say Laila to that Instagrammer? You’ve been fucking with me this whole time, pretending you believed I said your name?”
“No. Of course not. I’m one hundred percent positive you said my name to her. I just told Colin your stupid fake story because he was needling me about the whole thing and I wanted to be nice and save you from embarrassment.”
“Bullshit.”
“It’s true.”
“Well, if it’s true, which I don’t believe, then you didn’t do it to be nice to me. You did it because you want Colin to think you’re available.”
“Absolutely not.”
I throw up my hands. “You can’t do that, Laila! I just got finished telling that Penelope chick you’re my girlfriend! And that’s how I expect you to play this, too—to remain in character at all times, with everyone, including Colin.”
“You don’t get to decide that.”
“I sure as hell do. I paid two million bucks to get to decide that and anything else having to do with this ridiculous arrangement.”
Uh oh. She’s no longer amused. She’s downright pissed now. “And ‘anything else’?” she parrots. “What am I—a mail order bride? A blowup doll?” She scoffs. “News flash, Savage. You paid two million bucks to save your own ass. Not to purchase me.”
“You know what I meant.”
“Yeah, I do,” she says. “And that’s the problem. Regardless, even if I were going to agree that you’re my lord and master and omnipotent in all ways, we still can’t put the genie back in the bottle regarding Colin. He knows we’re not really a couple, and that’s that, unless you want me to run out there and scream, ‘Just kidding! I’m actually desperately in love with Savage!’”
“Sounds like a plan to me. Go on now, baby. Chop chop.”
She rolls her eyes.
“At a bare minimum,” I say, “I demand you to stop flirting your ass off with Colin.”
She gasps. “I wasn’t flirting with Colin!”
“Well, he was sure as hell flirting with you.”
“We’re friends.”
“Have you ever fucked him?”
“No, not that it’s any of your business.”
“Kissed him?”
She shakes her head. “We’re friends.”
I narrow my eyes. “Friends don’t smile at each other like that, Laila. And they don’t lean in like that.” I scoff. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. I know what I saw.”
“You’re insane.”
“Not everyone here is associated with the show. The photographer is still here. Same with the caterer. And what about Reed’s friends and housekeeper? What’s to keep any of them from hearing the news about our ‘relationship’ at tomorrow’s press conference and then realizing, ‘Huh. That’s weird. I saw Laila flirting with some other guy all night long. Hey, I think I got some video of her flirting with him in the background. Why don’t I post that now on Twitter!’”
“You belong in an insane asylum.”
“No, I’d be insane if I didn’t learn from my past experiences. I’m once bitten, twice shy.” I take a few steps to my right, lean against the washing machine, and sigh. “You’ve never experienced my level of fame before, Laila. I’m not saying that to be a jerk. I’m trying to explain you can never be too careful. You never know who might leap at the chance to get their fifteen minutes, on your back. I’m saying we can’t take any chances. I don’t want this job to get fucked up, because you forgot this isn’t actually a romcom we’re starring in together, it’s a spy thriller.”
