Vincent told her all about them, and Jo let her lunch run long.
* * *
—
The rumors truly were great for Jo’s social life. Evelyn called again that evening. Again, she didn’t lead with hello.
“You made Us Weekly.”
“At this point in my life, I don’t think being in a magazine deserves a congratulatory phone call,” Jo said. She dropped her silverware from dinner into its rack in the dishwasher.
“You and your girlfriend made Us Weekly,” Evelyn clarified. “It’s gold.” She began to read over the phone. “‘No best-dressed list would be complete without the it couple of the week: Jo Jones and Emma Kaplan.’ In parens they write, ‘Her assistant! Shh!’ They say she’s your assistant with an exclamation mark, but then they say ‘shh’ like readers aren’t supposed to talk about it.”
“Do you really need to read this to me?”
“Absolutely,” Evelyn said. She went on, “Blah blah blah, what designers you’re wearing. Then: ‘We can hardly believe the way these two look at each other! Even on the red carpet they’re too busy being enthralled with each other to bother looking at the cameras.’”
Jo considered hanging up on her. She started the dishwasher.
“‘Jo keeps her fingers around Emma’s wrist like she can’t bear to let her out of reach,’” Evelyn continued. “‘Though it doesn’t look like there’s much chance of that—the way Emma leans closer.’”
“Can we please stop this?”
Evelyn laughed.
“I hate you,” Jo said.
“You hate Us Weekly,” Evelyn said. “I’m just the messenger.”
“Taking joy in rubbing this in my face doesn’t count as being the messenger,” Jo said. She poured herself a glass of red wine, certain she’d need it if this conversation continued.
“You know, you should probably hate yourself, actually.”
“Oh, thanks for that,” Jo said. “Really good advice, best friend.”
“Aiyah, what were you thinking?” Evelyn asked. “You go over twenty years without taking someone to an awards show, and then you bring your assistant. This would have been a big deal even if you’d kept your hands off her.”
Jo rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I thought I’d get more of the ‘Jo Jones is obsessed with work’ story,” she said. She’d told Emma this already, and it was the truth. “I didn’t think they’d get a picture of us like that.”
“How in the world did they?”
Jo sighed. “Emma decided me inviting her as a buffer meant she had to barge onto the red carpet when people yelled questions about Agent Silver.”
“Did you train her as a guard dog, or did she come that way?”
“Don’t call my assistant a dog.”
Evelyn laughed. “You know that only explains why she was next to you. It still doesn’t explain the picture. The way you’re holding her wrist? The way you’re looking at each other?”
“She almost fled,” Jo said. “With all the cameras on her. I held her in place and I made her laugh to calm her down. It wasn’t anything more.”
She was there. She knew it wasn’t anything more. But a copy of the picture sat in the top right drawer of Jo’s desk. She kept looking at it; she didn’t know why.
Eventually, Evelyn said, “It will die down at some point.”
“I know,” Jo said.
“How’s Emma dealing with it?”
Jo chuffed out a laugh. “By coming out to me.”
“What?”
Jo relayed the story, much to Evelyn’s delight.
“I’m surprised they haven’t found evidence of relationships she’s had with other women,” Evelyn said. “Surely that’d be gossip fodder.”
“Don’t even suggest that,” Jo said. “These rumors are going away, not stirring up more shit for us.”
“Right, of course. I won’t jinx it.” Evelyn paused. “Though, given that she’s bisexual, maybe you should take a hint from these rumors and make a move on Wonder Woman.”
“It’s inappropriate to even joke about that.” Jo couldn’t keep the edge out of her voice. “And you should know that, Attorney Yu.”
“But you like her, and you don’t like many people.”
“I do like her,” Jo said. “Emma is smart and capable and kind and my employee. Liking her doesn’t mean anything. I like you, too. Most of the time anyway.”
Evelyn laughed at her and finally let the subject drop.
4
JO
Jo called an all-hands meeting Thursday after lunch. Emma walked beside her to the soundstage, uncharacteristically quiet. Jo could’ve told her about Agent Silver before everyone else, but she hadn’t. Chantal knew, given that she would be taking over Innocents when Jo moved on, but other than that, the news was held close.
Jo kept the announcement quick. This wasn’t going to affect her work on Innocents for months yet, no reason to drag anything out.
“I’m going to be writing and producing the next Agent Silver movie,” she said.
Tate hollered, and everyone else joined in with a short round of applause interspersed with shouts of congratulations. Jo caught Emma’s eye—she was beaming.
“Don’t get too excited,” Jo said. “You’re not rid of me yet. The schedule isn’t set in stone, but I should still be here until at least the middle of next season. Nothing will immediately change. I’m only telling you now because you deserve to hear it from me rather than the press. And so you can extend your congratulations to Chantal, as well, who will be fully taking over the show when I leave.”
Jo was the one to lead this round of applause. Then she sent everyone back to work.
There was pep in Emma’s step now as she walked with Jo back to her office. When Jo got back behind her desk, Emma still stood in the open door, hugging her tablet and grinning.
“Boss.”
A smile slipped over Jo’s face. “Emma.”
“Boss,” Emma said again. “You’re really gonna write it!”
“I really am.”
“That’s—” Emma threw her arms to her sides and went up on her tiptoes. She looked like a kid on Christmas morning. “That’s awesome.”