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The director yells, “We’re clear!” and a loud cheer rises up onstage.
Without hesitation, Savage beelines over to me, weaving in and out of happy people. When he reaches me, he swings me around, whooping with joy.
“Free at last!” he booms, before pulling me into him for an exuberant kiss.
“I love you!” I shout amidst the din. And he returns my words, as well as my beaming smile. In the midst of our canoodling, Savage and I are interrupted by Aloha and her husband, Zander, both of whom hug me, and then Savage, and congratulate us on our first season.
“Have you signed on for next season yet?” Aloha asks, putting her palms together in prayer. “Daria told me they’re rabid to have you.”
I look at Savage and say, “We’re still thinking about it.” But, in reality, I know it would take a miracle to make Savage say yes to another season—an offer he truly can’t refuse. I add, “Our agents are haggling with Nadine, probably as we speak.”
“Well, don’t sell yourselves short, guys. They had their best ratings, ever, this season. And that certainly wasn’t because of me. It was because of you two.” Aloha addresses Savage, specifically. “Laila and I share an agent, Daria, so she already knows what I make on the show, since Daria’s the one who negotiated my deal. But if it helps your agent in negotiations for you, tell him or her I’ve got a five-year deal, ten mill per season. You and Laila are both worth the same as me now. So, tell your agent not to accept a penny less.” She looks at me. “That goes for you, too, girlie. Get yourself paid.”
“Holy fuck,” I blurt, simply because it never occurred to me to tell Daria to demand what Aloha makes. Aloha is already a legit icon in the industry, after all, and I’m still a relative newbie next to her.
To my surprise, Savage reacts calmly to Aloha’s suggestion. “Thanks for the intel,” he replies smoothly, his tone tacitly admitting he agrees with Aloha’s assessment. “I’ll pass it along to my agent.”
My chest tightens at the idea of me ever being that rich. Growing up, my mom, sister, and I saved our spare change in a jar to afford my piano lessons! But, regardless, it’s a moot point because Savage has told me repeatedly he’s got zero desire to continue as a judge, and I’d never continue as a judge without him. Not that the show would want me without Savage, anyway.
“Are you going to the wrap party now?” I ask Aloha and her husband, eager to change the subject.
“No way, dude, I’m outta here,” Aloha says. She snuggles her gorgeous husband. “All I want to do is go home with my man, crank up the fireplace, and have a quiet night, just the two of us.”
“That’s our plan, too,” I say, snuggling into Savage’s side in the same way Aloha is doing with Zander. “It’s our last night at our fancy mansion. Tomorrow, we’re moving into my little condo. So, I’ve asked our chef to make our favorite meal—cioppino—and get a nice bottle of champagne for us. We’re going to eat and drink and relax in our hot tub.”
Aloha shoots me a little wink, letting me know she’s well aware I’ve ended my sentence before getting to the best part of all—the part where Savage makes me scream the way she overheard that night, from across the hall. It’s crazy to think that drunken night at Reed’s house was only three months ago on the calendar, considering it feels like a lifetime ago. Savage and I have not only fallen deeply in love since then, which is earth-quaking news, in and of itself, but we’re also irrevocably in love. Committed to nurturing and safeguarding our love, always. No matter what. Forever. If I’d had a crystal ball three months ago, and saw where our relationship would end up, I never would have believed it. Not in a million years.
After a bit more conversation, Aloha and Zander head off, hand in hand, while Savage and I do the same. We change clothes in our respective dressing rooms for the last time and gather our stuff. We say goodbye to staff and crew and administer hugs here and there. We thank Nadine and a couple other producers we run across, all of whom say basically the same thing: they’re eager to put together a multi-year deal with us for many seasons to come. And what does Savage say to that? A noncommittal, “Send your offer to our agents and we’ll have them take a look.”
Finally, we head to the back of the studio and slide inside our usual SUV to begin our drive to our reality TV love nest for the very last time. As our car pulls away from the curb, Savage looks at me and exhales a long, slow, deep breath. “We did it, Fitzy. Hallelujah.”
