Falling out of Hate with You: Hate - Love Duet Book One Rowe, Lauren (black books to read TXT) 📖

the full truth, that I haven’t had sex with anyone, other than Savage, over the past six months, I’m certain I’d die of humiliation.

I clear my throat. “I’m all clear for the past month, too. I’ve been really busy myself.”

Savage’s face is lit up like the Fourth of July. “You’ve been busy doing what?” he asks. Surely, he knows I haven’t been hard at work on my next album. Not this soon, when my current album is still spitting out singles. Luckily, though, I’ve got a fairly credible answer at the ready. One rooted in truth, even if it’s not entirely true.

“I’ve been working a ton on a couple of side projects,” I reply. “A collaboration with 22 Goats and a duet with Alessandra Tennison—the one from the video shoot? Her single is doing so well, she got a full-album deal.”

“Good for her,” Savage says, apparently believing my every word.

I sigh with relief. The projects I’ve mentioned are real. But while I’ve laid down vocals for both tracks this past month, the time commitment for both projects combined amounted to only two sessions in the vocal booth. Hardly enough time to claim I’ve been “working a ton” this past month. In reality, I’ve been decompressing from the tour. Hanging out with my family, binge-watching shows, working out, and making weird butter dishes, bowls, and vases on my pottery wheel for friends and family who’ll never use them. But there’s no way I’m letting Savage know I’ve been a lazy bum this past month, with ample time, but zero interest, in dating.

“So, have we heard all your terms, Nadine?” Daria asks.

“Yes,” Nadine confirms. “Are Savage and Laila prepared to agree to all of them?”

Looks are exchanged on our end of the call. Nonverbal confirmations given.

Daria announces, “Yes. Savage and Laila agree to everything.”

A cheer erupts on Nadine’s end of the call.

“Wonderful!” Nadine says. “We’ll email the contracts to you within the hour and—"

“Whoa,” Daria interjects, holding up her palm, despite Nadine not being here to witness the hand gesture. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We still need to deal with the small matter of Laila’s salary before—”

“Laila’s salary?” Nadine booms, sounding genuinely flabbergasted.

Daria furrows her brow. “Of course. Now that Savage and Laila have agreed to your terms, the next item on the agenda is negotiating—"

“Fucking hell, it is!” Nadine shouts, going from zero to sixty in a heartbeat. “This whole conversation, we’ve been assuming Savage and Laila had already worked out Laila’s additional compensation on their end!”

“What?” Eli shouts. “Of course, not!”

Nadine counters, “Of course! We assumed you called us to offer two judges for the price of one!”

Well, that’s it. Eli loses his mind, going off on a diatribe that makes Daria sit back in her chair, calmly steeple her fingers, and smile. And that’s how I know this isn’t a glitch. This isn’t a sign that everything is falling apart. That, in fact, as far as my brilliant and conniving agent is concerned, everything is going exactly according to plan.

Savage leans into me. “Sorry it didn’t work out for you, Fitzy. Honestly, I was pulling for you.”

“Thanks for trying,” I say. And it’s all I can do not to smile wickedly as I say it. I don’t know what Daria is up to, exactly. But whatever it is, I’m here for it.

After much shouting on the phone call, Nadine says to Eli, “I told you, quite clearly this morning, we don’t have another cent in the budget to add to Laila’s salary. We offered her a deal where she’d be Savage’s mentor for three episodes, and that’s all the money we’ve got at our disposal. Any compensation Laila requires in order to be promoted to a full-fledged judge this season—which, by the way, would give her the kind of publicity money simply can’t buy—would need to come out of Savage’s pocket, not ours.”

Well, that gets Savage’s attention. He jolts to standing and barks, “There’s no way I’m paying Laila a dime of my salary. I was willing to support her crazy idea, as a favor to her, as long as it didn’t affect me, but—"

I jump up, matching Savage’s angry body language. “As a favor to me, my ass. You did it to save yourself! If anyone is doing a favor here, it’s me doing one for you!”

“Bullshit,” he grits out. “You know you’ve got me between a rock and a hard place, and you’re shamelessly exploiting me.”

“Exploiting you?” I retort. “You’re the one who breached his morality clause, not me. You’re the one who needs a fake girlfriend to ‘redeem’ your stupid fuckboy ass this season. You’d already be fired right now, if it weren’t for me and the world’s bizarre obsession with us being a couple.”

Savage scoffs. “Gee, Laila. I wonder how the world got obsessed with that idea? Could it be you purposely fanned the flames of that rumor on Sylvia, for your own benefit?”

“I did not!” I shout. “I tried to put the fire out on Sylvia! I literally denied we’re a couple!”

His tone dripping with sarcasm, Savage says, “Yeah, and you did it sooo convincingly.” He rolls his eyes. “Ninety percent of all human communication is nonverbal, Laila. And guess what your nonverbal communication screamed on Sylvia? ‘Hell, yes, we’re totally fucking!’”

I gasp like this is news to me, even though countless friends texted me after that interview to razz me about that very thing. But good friends can tease me about that—not assholes I hate! Assholes who texted me their room number, begging me to show up so they could finally taste me, so they could “eat me from every angle,” and then, minutes later, brought yet another groupie to their room.

“People were already obsessed with us being a couple before my interview,” I insist. “That’s why Sylvia brought up your name. And you should be grateful she did, because that interview going viral is what convinced Nadine to hire you as Hugh’s replacement in the first place. Right, Nadine?”

“No comment.”

“So