Falling Into Love with You (The Hate-Love Duet #2) - Lauren Rowe Page 0,9
out to answer questions for about thirty minutes, and then, at the very end, we’ll invite the mentors to join the panel, too.”
I feel a squeeze to my hand and realize Savage must have taken it as we walked across the room. Or did I take his? I don’t even remember how it happened that our hands came to be joined. It happened so naturally, so easily, I don’t know who made the first move.
When we reach our destination—a spot behind Aloha and Jon across Reed’s large game room—Savage and I make whispered small talk with our fellow judges for a few minutes. And through it all, Savage and I never let go of each other’s hands. Not only that, I can’t stop sneaking peeks at Savage’s striking profile, my heart squeezing and my stomach flip-flopping. Clearly, I misjudged this man during our tour. Not about everything, obviously. But about a lot. I turned Savage into a caricature by the end of the tour. A one-dimensional villain. A man without a shred of decency or conscience.
Well, enough of that. I wasn’t faultless during the tour, either. I don’t think I can forgive Savage for everything he did during the tour—at least, not for that groupie in Vegas—but I decide to wipe the slate clean, as best I can, and give our fake relationship a genuine shot.
Four
Laila
As we await our cue to enter the press conference in the next room, we hear the voice of the show’s longtime host, Sunshine Vaughn, as she cheerily welcomes the assembled press—the reporters and influencers who’ve come here today on a Sunday afternoon to interview the show’s judges, and especially to hear the “shocking announcement” they’ve been promised is going to “rock their worlds.” Although I’m sure every last one of them would have flocked here, regardless, if only to tour the legendary mansion of Reed Rivers and get to interview Hugh Delaney’s buzzworthy replacement—the savagely sexy rock star whose face and abs have become as much of a permanent fixture on magazine covers lately as his dick has become one on Twitter. And, oh yeah, the dude also sings and plays his guitar pretty well, too.
I take a deep breath to calm my racing heart, and in reaction to my body language, Savage squeezes my hand, leans in, and whispers, “You’re gonna be great. The world is going to fall head over heels for you.”
Aloha, who’s standing in front of us, turns around and says, “Amen, sister. The world is going to love you, Laila, every bit as much as I do.”
“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me,” I say to Aloha. “You’ve been my guardian angel.” I look at Savage. “And thank you, too. Being on this show is a dream come true for me. I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t said yes to every ridiculous demand by the producers and my agent. I’m grateful to you.”
Savage shakes his head. “You saved my ass, Laila. This show is my grandma’s all-time favorite, and I’d already told her I was going to be a judge when the shit hit the fan for me yesterday. You did me a huge favor by saving me from having to tell her I’d gotten myself fired.”
I press my lips together. The hits just keep on coming. Savage agreed to do the show for his ailing grandma. How did I not know about this man’s diehard devotion to his grandmother before now?
In the other room, the show’s host bellows, “And now, let’s welcome our panel of judges!” Excited applause rises up as Sunshine says, “First off, it’s our resident Teddy Bear . . . Jon Stapleton!” A production assistant cues Jon, prompting him to head into the adjacent room. Sunshine continues, “And now, it’s our beloved queen . . . Aloha Carmichael!” The PA waves Aloha into the room, and her entrance elicits even louder applause than Jon’s. “And noooow . . .” Sunshine teases, prompting a hushed anticipation to fall over the press conference. “Please, welcome our two new judges! That’s right, we’ve got not one, but two new judges this season: Savage from Fugitive Summer and his gorgeous and talented girlfriend, a superstar on the rise . . . Miss Laila Fitzgerald!”
A collective gasp rises up as Savage and I appear, our hands clasped and happy smiles plastered on our faces—and by the time we’re taking our assigned seats between Jon and Aloha at a table facing the assembled press, the room is pure pandemonium.