Free Late Night with Andres by Debra Anastasia Page B

the effort of keeping him down.
    Andres smiled so wide his dentures almost fell out. “Gage Daxson? You’re alive? On my show?” The man nearly did a jig. “You brute, let him up, let him up. Let him complete his resurrection.” Andres scurried around his desk and pushed at Rocco.
    Rocco looked at Milla who nodded, eyes wide. This new information rippled through the crowd. Some clapped, some booed, some sobbed. Gage stood, clean shaven and dressed in his signature sloppy chic. He ignored them all and knelt in front of Milla. She smiled a little, still shaken from the turn of events.
    “I have your toe,” she blurted.
    He reached for her hand. “I’m glad. I have yours. Sorry it took me so long. I had things to put in order before—”
    Andres cleared his throat and picked up the mic, shoving it under Milla’s and Gage’s mouths. “Speak clearly. Are you proposing? How long did you plan on deceiving the world, Mr. Daxson?”
    Milla turned toward Andres, distracted by his questions. Gage reached up gently and turned her face back toward him. “He’s not here. None of them are. I know they tricked you so you would have to come here, but my lawyers are even scarier than his, so you don’t have to stay.”
    Milla nodded. She looked around the huge room and tried to take in all the bustling pieces. Cameras zoomed in, production assistants ran back and forth. She felt like she might faint, everything was blurring.
    “Don’t let go, Milla. Hang on for a minute.” Gage patted her hand. She refocused on his mouth as he spoke. “Would you like to come with me? You don’t have to do this anymore.”
    She nodded.
    “Good. I’ve got one more thing to do.” He turned to Rocco. “Do you mind?”
    The policeman smiled. “Be my guest. I was just turning around anyway.”
    Gage nodded and swung quickly. Andres was caught off guard as Daxson punched him two quick times. As the old man recoiled and fell on top of his desk, Gage grabbed Milla’s hand and pulled. She staggered a bit, so he scooped her up and headed backstage. A loud chant from the crowd stopped him: “Kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her!”
    A spotlight outlined their shape. Rocco stood between the security guards and the couple, hand floating over his gun.
    Gage looked at her mouth. “Do you mind?”
    Milla bit her lip and shook her head. Instead of waiting, she pulled his lips to hers and indulged the crowd. The clapping, hooting, and wolf-whistling went on long after Gage exited stage left, carrying Milla.

    Milla sipped champagne on a gorgeous private jet. Gage sat across from her, singing one of the songs he’d written in his head. The kiss on Andres’ stage had been the smartest thing to do, though they didn’t know it at the time. Gage had since given a long interview to Oprah (who ran the special on Friday night) explaining how the intense scrutiny was stealing his joy. He detailed how he had completed the fake out and then regretted it. The kiss was the tide turner. A surly public easily romanticized Gage saving his girl from humiliation at Andres’ hand. The old man’s ratings plummeted so severely that even though the studio execs kept him on the air, really, no one was watching. Instead of retiring a king of the media, Andres quietly returned his late night desk to the redheaded comedian who’d had it previously.
    And with that, Gage took Milla on their first date.
    “So this is Johnny Depp’s island?” Milla pointed at the small tropical paradise the plane circled as the sun set.
    “Yes, he’s a big fan of privacy.” Gage moved to sit next to her and buckled his seatbelt. He finished her champagne while she buckled as well.
    They held hands as the plane landed. Both wore sandals and had one little toe that looked wildly out of place: his tiny and feminine, hers huge with a bit of hair. Upon exiting the plane, Milla learned why Gage had taken so long returning from the dead. Along with the Oprah interview, he arranged a first date that