AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I can’t help a small smile.
“That, too. Now, what’s the other reason?”
I can tell it pains Frank to say it. He closes his eyes, rubbing his fingers to his temples.
“Because we always tell the truth, boss,” he grinds out.
“Because we always tell the truth,” I echo. “It’s not our fault that the truth is, sometimes, brutally uncomfortable, now is it? So ugly, in fact, that some people simply can’t deal with it.”
I think if Frank had a little less pride, he’d probably resign on the spot.
I make a mental note to have a gift basket of well-aged scotch sent to his home, but I have no more time for chitchat.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I hold a hand up as I retrieve it and scan the text message in my notifications.
Wanda: Your car is waiting. The staff at Just Vibing are expecting you. With a warm reception, no doubt.
All NDAs signed? I send back.
Wanda: Every last one.
There’s a pause, and then before I can type a response, another message.
Wanda: Including your Miss Landry.
I snort.
Caroline Landry seems like the type who’ll be bursting with pointed questions about why the new owner of her employer would require an NDA about who, specifically, that owner is—especially when that owner happens to operate under a shell company with no traceable link to Osprey Media, Incorporated.
She’ll find out soon enough.
I just wonder if she’ll be ready to give me that barbed tongue a second time.
3
Same Old Jazz (Callie)
Something isn’t right.
I’ve had this weird dread building up ever since I strolled into the office, completely at odds with Just Vibing’s relaxed atmosphere.
It’s a stylish, airy space with a lovely art deco design.
Maybe it’s just the mood, which makes for an unusual first day.
We’re in the middle of some kind of abrupt transition.
Everyone I’ve met has been on tenterhooks, from the CEO down to the assistant pool, buzzing like bees about the new owner showing up in person today.
The new owner, and the NDA I—and everyone else—had to sign before we could even walk past the reception desk.
I didn’t have much time to scan it. Only enough to know that Just Vibing was apparently bought by a company named Redbird Limited, and that by signing the agreement, I’m legally bound not to disclose any info about the employees, holdings, operations, or principals of Redbird.
That’s...a little odd.
Buyouts like this are usually public record, aren’t they?
So what’s an NDA going to conceal?
I get the feeling Matilda knows more than she lets on.
She’s the last person left talking to me while everyone else hovers over their desks in the open work area outside the frosted glass walls of my office, Googling Redbird Limited to no effect and whispering excitedly about what the big deal could possibly be.
As the new chief editor, I’m just glad the big deal isn’t me.
I’ve never been comfy in the spotlight.
I’ll leave that for people with the musical talent I appreciate so much.
Or maybe I’m just used to being overshadowed. It happens when your father topped the Billboard charts as a hot young musician before it all came crashing down.
I remember being a little girl so small he could hold me in the crook of his arm, his guitar in one hand and me in the other.
I was old enough to walk and talk, but not old enough to understand what was going on while everyone beyond the wings of the stage screamed with excitement. Their joyful roar crackled like static electricity, all while Dad was so quiet.
He was always so quiet before a show, just holding me close with his lips pressed to my hair.
I felt like he was breathing me in to fill himself up with something special he could only get from his baby girl before he rocked the stage, dominating the spotlight in a way I could never imagine.
I only found out later how much Mom hated him for sneaking me into his shows like some kind of secret mascot. She was so worried about me hanging around those types of people.
You know the ones.
Music industry roadies and the hangers-on who stay high and drunk as a state of being. Always coked up and smothering each other backstage without caring if there was a toddler around.
Sometimes, I think it’s better that my father fell out of that life before I was old enough to comprehend much.
Even if I hate the way it happened, and what it did to him...
“Callie. Are you listening?”
I blink, pulling myself from my memories and fixing my gaze on Matilda Fischer, my sorta boss, the former owner of Just Vibing and the current transition head.
She’s gorgeous in a simple off-shoulder sheath dress. Brilliant red. Its cut straddles that line between stylish professional and cocktail wear, as if she could swirl right out of the office for an evening of fine dining without ever needing to change. Her white hair, still tinged with a hint of blond, falls in a wavy half-bob over one side of her face, obscuring one green eye. The other watches me with concern.
