Page 41 of High Society

“OK. As a member of the tribe, then.”

She rolls her eyes. “I think that term has already been claimed.”

“Oh, yeah.” Simon chuckles. “Member of the Tribe. A MOT. My manager, David Hirschberg, describes himself as that all the time.”

“Honestly, Simon,” she says, as she steals a glance at her watch, “my opinion is going to be as good as useless to you.”

“I’ve seen how sharp your mind is in group, Reese. Just hear me out. Please. It won’t take long.”

She leans back in her chair. “All right.”

“Earlier this year, I settled out of court with this person. For a stupid amount of money, even though her claims were bullshit. But in light of the current… climate… everyone thought it was in my best interest to make the deal.”

“I assume the other party signed an NDA?”

“Exactly.”

“Let me guess. Someone else has come forward with a similar claim?”

“That’s the thing!” Simon cries. “It’s not just anyone else. It’s Brianna’s best friend!”

“Her friend is accusing you, too?”

Simon slumps in his chair. “I met them at the same time. In Portland. They approached me after a concert. Invited themselves back to my hotel suite. Sure, I partied with them. But nothing much happened. At least, not that night. They came on tour with me for a few weeks. I thought we all had a blast. We even kept in touch after.” He knows better than to mention the accidental bruising around Brianna’s neck, still not convinced he was responsible for it.

Reese’s expression remains blank, but he senses the disdain behind her impassive eyes. “Here’s my opinion, Simon. Save yourself some legal fees and settle with the second one using the exact same contract as you did with the first.”

“But Brianna signed an NDA.”

“And?”

“She must have told her friend! It’s way too coincidental otherwise.”

“Can you prove that?”

“No. But where will it end? If I settle every time one talks—clearly breaking the terms of the NDA—then it will only encourage others. It’s like negotiating with terrorists.”

“Negotiating with terrorists? Are you fucking serious, Simon? You had sex with these women!”

“Totally consensual! I’m not a neanderthal. I never so much as smile at a woman without confirming consent.”

Reese rubs her eyes. “I’m assuming they’re not in your… age group?”

Simon shakes his head.

“And neither of them are pop stars or record executives or in any other position of wealth or authority?”

“No.”

“So there’s a massive power differential between your position and theirs. And therefore, no real distinction between consent and coercion.”

“It’s not like that,” Simon mutters.

“That’s exactly what it is.” Her tone is matter-of-fact. “I assume you have enough available funds to pay for a second settlement?”

“I could manage it, I suppose.”

“Compare that to the cost to your reputation if the second claimant were to make her claims public. Or worse, she decided to file a criminal complaint.”

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