Falling Into Love with You (The Hate-Love Duet 2)

“I understand the meaning of your words, yes,” I reply, echoing Savage’s comment a moment ago. His arm is still around my shoulders and I want to show him the solidarity he clearly thinks he’s showing me. But when Nadine’s eyes harden, I can’t help adding, “I’m willing to do my best to deliver what you want, if I can. I’m just not sure, at this point, that I can.”

“Oh, I have faith in you,” Nadine replies, and her tone makes me feel like there’s a subtextual “or else” hidden in her statement. With a plastic smile, she slaps her thighs and rises from her armchair. “Show us ‘Vintage Savage and Laila’ tomorrow, during the last round of auditions, and then during Draft Day and Mentor Day, too. After that, we’ll take the long holiday break to regroup and figure out where we want to take things from there.”

“Mm-hmm,” I say, as my stomach twists and clenches.

I look at Savage to find him silently staring Nadine down.

“So,” Nadine says brightly, “do either of you have any fun plans for the holidays?”

As a matter of fact, during our three weeks off, Savage and I have lots of fun plans. The morning after shooting ends, Savage and I will head to Chicago to visit Mimi and Sasha. After spending three days with Savage’s family, I’ll fly back to California to spend Christmas day with my family, while Savage remains in Chicago with his. A few days after that, Savage and I will reunite in LA for a couple days before flying to Cabo to relax and celebrate the new year. The trip is Savage’s generous Christmas gift to me, and I can’t wait. After that, as the first episodes of the show begin airing, Savage and I will return to our fake love nest in LA to relax and gear up for the weekly singing competition to come. But sitting here now, I don’t know if Savage would want me to mention any of that to Nadine. In fact, based on the way Savage has reacted to Nadine during this conversation, I’m quite certain he wouldn’t want me telling her a damned thing about our private life.

“We’re just going to relax and spend the holidays with our families,” I reply.

Nadine looks at Savage and he nods.

“Sounds fun,” Nadine says. She tells us about her holiday plans—she’s taking her family to Hawaii. She’s getting her daughter a puppy for Christmas. Blah, blah. As Nadine speaks, I can barely breathe, as my mind races along with my pulse. Finally, Nadine bids us a good evening and heads toward the door of Savage’s dressing room. Before exiting, though, she turns around and shoots us a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Thanks again for doing such a great job, guys.” She looks at Savage. “Especially you, Savage. The audience is going to fall even more in love with you when these audition episodes air.” With that, she turns and leaves. And I’m suddenly positive my days on the show are numbered, if I don’t deliver precisely what Nadine has requested. Maybe even if I do.

Fifteen

Savage

“This is a disaster!” Laila whisper-shouts as we tumble into the backseat of our SUV. We shot the final batch of auditions today, during which there’s no doubt we didn’t deliver “Vintage Savage and Laila,” as requested by Nadine yesterday. Not even close. On the contrary, we were every bit as enamored and enthralled with each other, as ever. And now, Laila is freaking the fuck out.

If I’m being honest, I didn’t actually try to change course or deliver any semblance of what Nadine asked for yesterday. Why would I? I have no desire to return to any sort of toxic, angry dynamic with Laila—to mess with the blissful happiness I’ve found with her these past weeks. Not for any reason. But certainly not to please the executive producer of some reality TV singing competition that’s contractually obligated to pay me, regardless.

Even if I were only “pretending” to be a dick to Laila again, I worry I might genuinely hurt her feelings somehow. And I don’t want to risk that. So, all day long, I’ve sat back and let Laila take the lead in delivering the “hate-lust” dynamic Nadine requested yesterday. And guess what? Laila has followed my lead. She’s returned my every smile, laughed at my jokes, and squeezed my hand every time I’ve squeezed hers. And before I knew it, the shooting day was done, and Laila and I had given the audience a whole lot more of the same—a blissfully happy couple that adores each other, can’t keep their hands off each other, and laughs at each other’s jokes. Even the stupid ones. And I’m not sorry about it. Not even a little bit.

Our usual bodyguard closes the door behind Laila as she gets settled into the back seat of the SUV next to me. “It’s a disaster,” Laila mutters, repeating her earlier refrain. “A total and complete disaster!”