by Cat Mann
Chapter 16
NDA
“Confidential Information and Materials between Ava Zae Baio Alexander and Ari Cal Alexander aka The Disclosing Party and Lirik F. Nino aka The Receiving Party.” Reading the document aloud, Lirik’s eyes tightened and her light, dust-like freckles wrinkled. “For the purpose of preventing the unauthorized disclosure of confidential information as defined below,” she thumbed through the small stack of papers.
“This is a non-disclosure agreement between my wife and me and you. This agreement is a requisite of finalizing your hiring process. You will find that as my assistant, you will end up spending a fair amount of time dealing with my family, Ava especially. You will have a window into our private life, including access to family matters, legal matters, personal relationships and messages from doctors, publicists, legal representatives and so forth. As long as you are my assistant, you will have this access to our personal lives -- our address, our personal numbers, our childcare information, and, in a very limited way, our finances. Hell, Fauna knew everything. My wife and I try very hard to remain private and this agreement will ensure that you do not hinder us. Really, this agreement protects all of us.”
I removed the cap of my fountain pen, exposing the pointed, inky tip, and set it down on the document in front of Lirik.
“I need you to put your signature here and, in doing so, you will forfeit any ability to release information of any kind about my wife or my child or myself to anyone without my consent. I can call someone from legal up here to explain the parameters of the agreement further if necessary. If you choose not to sign the NDA, I will be left with no choice but to find someone else to fill the position of my assistant. This agreement is a must. I insist upon … it but more importantly, Ava insists.”
“I understand what a Non-Disclosure is, Ari. Legal won’t be necessary.” She crossed one long leg over the other, picked my pen up and looped her signature across the paper in a curly, cursive scrawl on the final page of the document.
“Do you have any questions for me?”
“Do you think these kinds of things actually work?”
“Excuse me?”
“Do you really think a simple signature on the bottom of this page will protect you from anything?”
No. The answer to her question was no. A non-disclosure is nothing more than a scare tactic. Lirik’s signature wouldn’t protect Ava or Max. She could still take our information, trot off and tell the world whatever she wanted about us, take whatever she wanted from us, she could access accounts, review personal records and try to use them against us. We could retaliate but for what? Retaliation would only drag our own names through the court system in a pathetic pursuit to get money that Lirik likely didn’t even have and we didn’t even need.
“This document just outlines our trust in one another on paper. It is not meant to insult you.”
“I’m not insulted at all, Ari. You can trust me. I am on your side.”
“My last assistant signed the same agreement. It’s nothing personal.”
“I understand.”
“I’ll send this to legal, they'll make you a copy and we’ll be good.” I nodded, expecting her to excuse herself and I redirected my attention to the contract awaiting my approval on my desk.
“Did your last assistant ever have any issues with the agreement?”
“Why do you ask?” I blinked back up at her.
“I was only wondering.”
“Fauna and I never had any problems, no. But speaking of issues, as you know, we had a break-in at our home in Dana Point. I don’t anticipate any more problems, but I would like you to call the security desk and have one of them escort you to your car if you find yourself working late.”
“I will. Do you have any idea of who did it?”
“No, we don’t know.”
“What are the police saying? Anything interesting? That is, if you don’t mind my asking…”
“At this point, they don’t know any more than I do. Has Detective Scott been in touch?”
“I’m sorry, no. I spoke with an officer at L.A.P.D. and he said Detective Scott retired this past winter. He wouldn’t give me any personal contact information but took a message and said he would try to pass it along to him.”
“Great. This is just great.”
“How frightening. Your wife must be scared.”
“She’s upset, but Ava doesn’t scare easily. Frankly, whoever it was that broke in, they are quite lucky that Ava wasn’t home.”
“Oh really? Does she put up a good fight?”
“You have no idea the lengths my girl will go to to win.”
“Good. That’s very good.”
Lirik’s finger traced the fabric of her shirt above where I knew her tattoo would be.
“Mmm. Margaux mentioned that you two have worked together before. How do you know her?”
“Margaux is a friend of mine. We met a few years ago and we have worked together on some smaller projects.”
“Projects? What kind of projects?”
“Just things.” Her long, thin fingers continued to circle the silky fabric on her arm.
“You’ve worked on projects with Margaux in the past and yet you are still friends. That’s quite an accomplishment. Kudos.”
“Margaux and I both share the same passion. Aren’t you fond of her? She is your grandmother-in-law after all.”
“I like Margaux. We don’t always see eye to eye but she and I also share the same love -- Ava.”
“Ava.” Lirik smiled at the mention of my wife and twirled the sonogram frame around on my desktop to face her. She looked down at the grainy black and white image of our unborn child. “And Ava is having a baby. When’s the baby’s due?”
“October the seventeenth.”
“Congratulations. Eleven weeks to go then? You two must be anxious.”
“Not anxious. Eager. And yes, eleven weeks is about right -- give or take a day.”
“Eleven weeks.” She said as if she were making some kind of mental note. “Has her doctor mentioned if the baby may come any earlier?”
“Uh no.” My eye tightened at her questions. “Not that Ava has told me about anyway.”
“You don’t go to the appointments with her?”
“I go whenever I am able.”
Lirik kept rubbing that space, the small inner space just below the curve of her elbow. It drove me crazy.
“How long have you had that tattoo?”
“Oh this? A while.” Her hand froze.
“Well, does it still hurt?”
“No.” She took her hands and tucked her fingers under her legs. “I made your reservation. You are set for six thirty at the Yacht Club. If you don’t leave now, you’ll hit traffic and you won’t make it in time. I will make the copy of the NDA and send the original over to legal for you. As I said, you can trust me.” Lirik straightened the pages, stood and excused herself from my office.