I know I’m crazy to think it. To hope it. But I can’t help myself. Even if the odds are low, I think there’s a small chance he’ll get down on bended knee the minute we stop singing, and the very thought makes every cell in my body electrify with giddiness.
When I arrive at the wing of the stage, I look around for a PA, or someone with a headset, to make sure the production staff knows where I am. These “live taping” shows are an intense juggling act for the crew, since they’re shot precisely as the show will air, with no editing or re-dos. So, given my upcoming performance, it’s critical everyone knows where to find me at all times.
As I’m looking around for someone in a headset, I spot Nadine, the executive producer, standing with her back to me alongside Rhoda, the junior producer who’s become a good friend. Given that Rhoda and Nadine are both wearing headsets, I head over to the duo, intending to tap one of them on the shoulder and wave, as if to say, “Here I am.” But when I get close enough to overhear the women’s conversation, I stop short and listen in.
“Who knows if Savage will do it?” Nadine is saying as I come to a stop behind her. “Unfortunately, his contract states he can decide, yes or no, if he wants to earn that bonus, right up to the last moment. So now, all we can do is wait and cross our fingers.”
“I’m betting he’ll do it,” Rhoda says confidently. “And not for the bonus—but for real.”
Nadine snorts. “I wouldn’t hold my breath on that, Rhoda.”
“You didn’t see him at Laila’s birthday party. He’s head over heels in love with her, Nadine, for real. Anyone could see it. But, hey, if his love for her doesn’t convince him to propose to her on national TV, then maybe a quarter-million bucks will tip the scales for him.”
“Try a million bucks.”
“What?” Rhoda gasps out, as I clamp my hand over my mouth to keep my own gasp from becoming audible.
“I made a secret side deal with Savage,” Nadine says. “But don’t worry, I’m not stupid enough to have agreed to paying him a million bucks out of pocket. He let me keep his full salary, two million, in exchange for me promising never to terminate Laila and to leave them alone to be ‘happy’ without any meddling. If he proposes tonight, like a good little boy, then he’ll get a million bucks of the money we’ve withheld from him.”
I clamp my palm over my mouth again, this time to keep myself from screaming.
“Did you give him the ring?” Rhoda says.
“Yeah, a few minutes ago,” Nadine replies. “I told him to put it in his pocket, so he’d have it, just in case. And I’ll be damned, he took it. So who knows? I’m hoping that’s a good sign.” Nadine scoffs. “Or maybe he’s just fucking with me.”
“No. I’d bet anything he’s going to give her that ring. A million bucks, a free ring, and the chance to propose to the woman he loves on national TV? What rational man wouldn’t leap at a deal like that?”
“I think we both know Adrian Savage is anything but rational.”
I’ve heard enough. Plus, now that the group song onstage is wrapping up, I’m scared to death these two women will turn around and catch me crouching behind them in the dark. I turn on my heel and sprint away on my tiptoes, as Sunshine Vaughn announces a commercial break.
When I reach my dressing room, I shut the door behind me and lean against it, my eyes wide and my chest heaving. There’s so much to unpack here, my brain feels like it’s exploding. Out of every shocking thing Nadine just said, however, the thing that’s rising to the top of the heap is the part where Nadine said Savage forfeited his entire salary in exchange for Nadine’s promise not to fire me. When the hell did that happen?
I pace circles in my dressing room, too freaked out to sit. I’m insanely grateful Savage swooped in to protect me like that, but I wish he hadn’t. I already felt bad enough that he had to give up two million bucks to get me onto the show, in the first place. And now I find out he gave up two million more to keep me on the show?
All I can hope and pray is that Savage realizes his best bet is to get down on his knee after our performance is done, and fake-propose. Obviously, I’d love to hear those amazing words out of Savage’s mouth one day, for real. And, selfishly, I’d love to hear them tonight, even if it’s only for pretend, solely to have a beautiful, false, fairytale moment with Savage, however fleeting and fake. Laila, will you marry me? Just imagining those words coming out of Adrian’s mouth gives me goosebumps, even if it’s only for show. But, truly, the main thing here is that I want Savage to get himself paid.