“That was one time.”
“It was three times.”
Fair.
“I need legal advice,” I say.
“My retainer is high.”
“I’ll pay you in emotional labor and borrowed therapy. Plus ice cream. Lots of ice cream.”
“Sold. What’s up?”
I pace my tiny apartment while I explain. The bar. The job offer. The complete disaster of a situation I’ve walked myself into.
“Wait.” Amara interrupts. “You slept with him?”
“That’s not the point.”
“That’s absolutely the point. Jess. He’s your brother’s best friend.”
“I’m aware.”
“And now he wants to hire you?”
“Apparently.”
She’s quiet for a second. Then she laughs. “This is the mostyouthing that’s ever happened to you.”
“Are you going to help me or mock me?”
“Both. Multitasking.” I can hear her typing. “Okay. If you’re seriously considering this, we need boundaries. Real ones. Not the kind you think about and then ignore when things get complicated.”
“I’m great at boundaries.”
“You’re terrible at boundaries.”
Also fair.
“Live-out only,” Amara says, all business now. “No sleepovers. No blurred lines. You go home every night. Your space stays yours.”
I grab a pen and start writing on the back of my rent notice. Seems fitting.
“No closed doors in private spaces,” she continues. “Common areas only when you’re working. Bedrooms are off limits unless the kid needs you.”
“Obviously.”
“No fraternization clause. In writing. You’re the nanny. He’s the boss. That’s it.”
My stomach twists. “Right.”
“No kid content. Period. You don’t post her. You don’t film her. You don’t use her for clout even if you rebuild your brand. That’s non-negotiable.”
“I would never—”
“I know you wouldn’t. But he doesn’t know that yet. So we put it in writing. And honestly, I’d be surprised if his lawyer didn’t have something like that in the contract already.”
She’s right. Of course she’s right.
