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“That’s not a bad friend to have. Milah Holly isn’t someone I’d ever fuck with.” I smile and pull back enough to look down into her wide, wet eyes. Grasping her hands in mine, I squeeze them with an encouraging smile. “And she’s not your only friend. You have me. Heck, if you need somewhere to hide, I bet my dad wouldn’t mind another couch-surfer. I’m already freeloading off him as it is. He loves your music, too, though you’ve probably never heard of his.”
There’s the effect I want—Easterly diverted from freezing up, her head cocking. “Your dad’s an artist?”
“Retired now—sorta—but yeah.” I chuckle wryly. “Alvin Landry of Four Times Crazy.”
Easterly’s eyes go round, her mouth falling open.
“No way! Didn’t they do ‘Wild for the Ever After?’”
I blink. “They sure did. You really know your oldies, huh?”
She giggles shyly.
“...it’s inspiration. Four Times was way cool. I can’t believe I never made the connection!”
“Landry’s a pretty common name.” I squeeze her hands again. “My dad’s actually thinking about making music again. There’s proof that anybody can start up again no matter what lumps they’ve taken. Even if things go sour with Vance, it’s not the end, Easterly. Especially not with the fans you can reach on TikTok and friends like Milah on your side. Do you think she’d let anything happen to you?”
“No...” She falters, her fingers curling in mine. “She’s the reason I thought I should talk to you. She’s been so nice to me. Like a big sister or something. And I guess she thinks it’s time people stop. Y’know, stop keeping secrets.”
“He’s made it very hard not to with those NDAs. You signed one, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.” Her face falls. “Does that mean I can’t say anything or I’ll get into legal trouble?”
“No.” Smiling again, I tug her hand, leading us to my office. “Come sit. Let me make you some tea, and we’ll figure this out.”
Easterly looks like a lost kitten as she straggles in after me and claims one of the comfy chairs.
I brew a little green tea with honey in the carafe on my side table and settle her down with a cup before quietly explaining everything.
Right now, as long as we speak off the record, she’s talking to me as an advisor. And if I advise her to seek legal counsel, then she’s allowed to show both her contract and her Nondisclosure Agreement to me and a lawyer—even if that lawyer is provided by Just Vibing.
That way, if she wants to make a written statement about Haydn’s professional and personal behavior, it’s protected. He can’t use the NDA to hurt her.
Not to mention the fact that NDAs usually aren’t good protection against disclosing someone breaking the law. You can’t commit a murder and then make a witness sign a legally binding NDA that prosecutes them for turning you in.
Her eyes flash with a fragile hope and she hugs her cup in both hands.
“Really? It’s that easy?”
“I wouldn’t call it easy, Easterly. It’s kind of delicate, but there are ways. Otherwise, bad people would use legal wizardry to do anything they want,” I point out. “Some of them do because their victims can’t afford a lawyer, or sometimes they don’t know any better. But if you get good advice and do things the right way, it can be done.”
Easterly darts her tongue over her lips, staring into her tea. “But I mean...it’s all little things. The stuff he does. If I show it to a lawyer, they’ll probably just laugh—”
“They won’t,” I assure her, resting my arms on my desk and watching her with my warmest smile. “More importantly, I won’t. It’s okay to tell me, Easterly. This conversation stays here with u—”
My phone jumps in my purse with Roland’s text tone.
I groan, offering a quick smile. “Sorry. One second.”
I pull my phone out, sighing at myself when I see the text.
Roland: Where the hell are you?
Oops. I forgot to leave a note, a text, or anything.
At the office. Sorry, something came up.
I’ll apologize later and give him the full explanation he deserves.
I just can’t right now.
So I mute my phone, drop it in my purse, and laugh. “Okay. Now we’re really alone.”
“Let me guess. Boyfriend?” Easterly half smiles.
“Um.” Oh God, I must be red up to my scalp with my face flaming. “Something like that.”
“Ohhhhh.” Her smile is as wicked as the twinkle in her eyes. “Hookup, then.”
“Hold up. You’re not old enough to be saying that to me,” I groan, dragging a hand over my face before peeking past my fingers at her impish grin. “Then again, I guess you are.”
“I’m old enough to know men are pretty dumb.” At least my embarrassment entertains her. She seems more relaxed as she slouches in her chair, knees thrust forward in her baggy pants, her massive sweatshirt bunching around her.
