Grandma sets her glass down on the table. “Those are the two where he spends most of his time.”
“There’s also the loft in New York, a beach house in South Carolina, and an apartment in London.” He pauses and asks, “You’ve signed the nondisclosure agreement, right? Or should I be shutting up?”
“He hasn’t asked me to sign anything,” I say. Then Angus looks at me and I look at him and yeah. This conversation sure turned weird and awkward fast.
He turns to Grandma, and she does this graceful shrug of much nonchalance. As if everything is fine.
I, however, am feeling chalant as fuck. “He trusts me, I guess.”
“Sure,” he says, not sounding convinced in the least.
“It’s normal for you to want to protect your brother,” says Grandma.
“And that’s what usually happens?” I ask, in a nice and calm tone.
“You can make cash selling stories about him. People have done that in the past unfortunately.” He puts aside the glass of lemonade and braces his hands on the counter behind him. And I don’t love the way he’s looking down at me from his lofty height. Nash never makes me feel this way. Like he’s assessing me. While I respect his need to guard his brother, being on the receiving end doesn’t feel great.
“June wouldn’t do that,” says Grandma.
He grunts. And it’s not the sound of him agreeing.
“Is that standard for all of his friends?” I ask. “Asking them to sign an NDA?”
“It can depend,” answers Angus. “Other people in the industry at around his level…not so much. They’re professionals and have just as much to lose privacy-wise.”
“Right.”
Laughter can be heard from outside as Charlie and Nash walk in the kitchen door. No idea what they’re talking about. However, Nash stops dead and surveys the scene with narrowed eyes.
“That’s not my beloved’s happy face,” he says, with a raised brow.
“It’s fine.” I give him a small smile. “Just learning about the legalities of knowing you.”
And Angus frowns his heart out. “She hasn’t signed an NDA.”
Nash’s face blanks. Which is telling. Though I’m not exactly sure what it’s saying.
“Is that an oversight or are you thinking with your dick or what?”
“Angus,” snaps Grandma. “You’re standing in my kitchen discussing something that involves my granddaughter. Watch your language.”
“Sorry,” he says. “But you don’t want a repeat of what happened with—”
“Think I’m old enough to decide these sorts of things for myself,” says Nash with a defensiveness to his tone. There’s the feeling he’d much rather brawl some more in the backyard with his brother than have this discussion.
“Situations and people change. We’ve seen it happen before,” continues Angus. “You don’t want another exclusive tell-all interview about what you do in bed or how you shouted something at her one time.”
Nash turns to me and says, “For the record, we were shouting at each other. And honestly, she was way louder than me. The woman had a remarkable lung capacity. Makes sense, with her being a singer.”
“It’s not funny,” snaps Angus.
“Trust me, brother. I am very much aware of that.”
“How long have you two even known each other?”
And all the while, Charlie observes this play out. Absolutely none of it seems to surprise him. Neither the animosity between the brothers nor the need for me to be legally-bound and gagged. The world of professional musicians and performers at high levels is a strange one. That’s for sure.
Angus takes a deep breath and releases it slowly. Visibly searching for calm. “If she wants to be with you, she’ll sign it no problem. This doesn’t have to be a big deal.”
