Page 145 of A World Apart
“You-you did what?” Becka frowned, cocking her head to the side as I just grinned.
“I put my phone on the side like this −” I pulled my phone out of my pocket and put it on the counter, where Becka looked at it with a blank expression.
“And then I pressed play, like this.” I slid my finger up the screen and played the audio recording, Trevor Kyle’s voice filling our small kitchenette.
“It’s Kaiya. What can I do for you, Mr Kyle?”
“How long have you worked for us, Kaiya?”
“Since April, Mr Kyle.”
“And do you have aspirations to work in the music industry, Kaiya?”
“I don’t know career I’m going to pursue, yet.”
“I could help you with that, you know. It’s so important to nurture talent from within our ranks. I’ve seen your Youtube channel. You have some promise.”
“T-thank you.”
“Why don’t you spend some time shadowing me? I could show you the ropes. I’d be happy to break you in a little bit.”
“It’s who you know in this business that opens doors. You need friends you can look up to. We could be friends.”
“When did that happen?” Becka is so pale I’m worried she’ll faint.
“Sit down.” I pulled out the chair at the counter and helped her into it.
“Ky, why didn’t you tell me?” Her chin trembled, and I can’t help but wonder if perhaps I should have done.
I shrugged. “It was weeks ago and what would I have said? ‘TK made more gross passes at me’? I was trying to focus on just being present here, at Pisces, in LA… It seemed immaterial.”
“Immaterial,” Becka murmured through bloodless lips. “Did he touch you?”
“What? No!” I insisted. “Donna came in and interrupted him.”
“Donna hates everyone − but she sticks her neck out for you.” Becka started to giggle, but it was a strained sound. “What the fuck is it about you?” Becka threw her hands up in the air. “An idol, a producer, and now the world’s most dangerous receptionist.”
“I’m not sure how I feel about all those people being lumped together,” I reflected.
Becka closed her eyes, pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath in. “Okay, tell me what happened next in the meeting.”
“Oh, yeah. Well, as you can imagine, TK blew his top.” I grinned. “He tried to grab my phone, but Jeremy pulled it away before he could reach it. Very dramatic.”I waggled my eyebrows at Becka, who just took a gulp of wine. “Then, TK tried to downplay it. ‘That’s bullshit.’ He said, ‘that recording doesn’t prove any wrongdoing.’ But he looked nervous as hell.” I chuckled.
“I just said, ‘maybe not legally, but I wonder what the court of public opinion would think.’”
“Oh, holy fuck,” Becka groaned.
“So then he tried to throw the non-disclosure agreement in my face,” I added, “but that’s when Liam Fenway pipes up to point out that the NDA only protects clients, not ‘dumbass producers.’ Honestly, Becka, you should have seen TK’s face. It was glorious.” I sighed, leaning back against the counter and taking another sip of wine.
Becka gulped her wine like water, grabbed the bottle, and poured herself another. She held it up silently, asking if I needed a top-up. I held out my glass, and she poured in the rest, the bottle now empty.
“What happened then?”
“Not much. TK stormed out, Fenway told Celine to get my paperwork printed and then he just told Jeremy to finalise the ‘exit interview.’” I huffed and then took another sip form my glass.
Silence fell between us as we each collected our thoughts.
“So you’ve officially ‘resigned’?” Becka asked eventually, a crease between her brows.
