Something to Talk About(16)
“Think on it,” Jo said.
Emma nodded once. The conversation clearly took her by surprise. Her beaming pride had turned to wide-eyed anxiety. It was adorable, actually, how fully she seemed to feel everything. Jo had perfected her poker face long ago. Emma was refreshingly different from most people in the business with the way her feelings were always scrawled across her face.
* * *
—
Over the weekend, most coverage of the announcement of Jo’s work on Agent Silver was positive. On Monday, though, Jo and Emma left the studio in step with each other on the way to an off-site meeting, and cameras flashed in their faces. Emma took a step toward Jo and put one arm up in front of her. It was Emma’s usual protective stance in a crowd, whether it be fans or paparazzi, but Jo knew the tabloids would run with it. Nothing to be done about that—they obviously got the shot as the flashes continued.
It was much like the red carpet. Emma was there as some kind of buffer as the paparazzi shouted questions about Agent Silver at Jo. This time, though, plenty of the questions were about Emma, as well.
“Any comment on the suggestion you got involved with action movies and your assistant because you’re terrified of getting older?”
Jo rolled her eyes behind her sunglasses.
“Was the Agent Silver announcement timed to distract from the scandal with your assistant?”
When Jo and Emma were only a few feet from the car at the curb, close enough to safety that Emma’s arm had dropped back to her side, one paparazzo asked, “What do you say to reports that you’re, and I’m quoting a source here, ‘a midlife crisis of a person in love with your assistant’?”
Emma’s feet stumbled, but Jo caught her at the elbow and pulled her forward.
“No reactions, Ms. Kaplan,” she muttered.
They got into the car without further incident.
Emma waited until they pulled away from the studio to fish gape at Jo.
“He—they—he was quoting a source that said that about you?”
Jo shrugged. “That source could be a tourist on Rodeo Drive for all we know. It’s nothing to worry about.”
“But how can they just say that stuff?”
Jo looked at her. Emma breathed through her mouth, cheeks flushed.
“You’ve dealt with paparazzi before,” Jo said. “Why are they bothering you now?”
“Normally we deal with them because they like you, not because they’re being dicks to you!” Emma huffed, clearly affronted.
Jo tried not to chuckle. “You hardly need to defend my honor.”
Emma didn’t immediately reply. She turned to look out the window and folded her hands in her lap. Quietly, she said, “Well, it deserves defending.”
* * *
—
Evelyn called to tease again that night. Jo suspected she had an alert set for Jo and Emma’s names together. It was annoying, a bit, but it was the most regularly Jo had talked to her best friend in years, so she didn’t mind.
She overthought, though. The next day on set, Jo went to lead Emma back toward her office, but froze halfway there.
This was normal, right? To gently guide Emma with a hand at her back? Jo had never thought about it before, never worried about it, but now they were in front of the crew, and Jo swore some of Emma’s PA friends were watching them.
Emma tilted her head at Jo. Jo rolled her eyes at herself and pressed her hand into Emma’s lower back, directed her toward the hallway to their offices.
It was obnoxious, the way she overanalyzed their every interaction now. Jo worried she was crossing a line, doing something inappropriate. Then she worried she was pulling back, allowing the rumors to affect how she behaved. She wanted to be able to focus on work. They were getting down to the end of filming for the season, and Jo was working on the Agent Silver script. She didn’t need any distractions.
But the rumors were distracting. Every snide article, blind item, tweet—all of them made Jo want to break something. They made Emma even madder.
“I get why you didn’t want to say anything about us dating.” She backtracked. “Or—not dating, I mean. Like the fact that we’re not dating. I get not talking about that. But this is ridiculous! The idea that you’re going through some midlife crisis and that’s why you want to do Agent Silver! When you know it’s just sexism and racism—God forbid a woman write an established male character. What if she gives him feelings that aren’t punching and having sex?”
Emma had brought Jo a midmorning coffee and stayed in her office to rant.
“Who can imagine why Jo Jones might be interested in a movie?” Emma continued. “Oh, I don’t know, she’s already conquered television—maybe she wants to challenge herself to do something new. Something you’ll be great at, by the way. Literally everyone who has ever worked with you knows you’re going to be great at this, and there’s just these strangers on the internet saying—saying—casting aspersions on your talent!”
Jo pressed her lips together so she wouldn’t laugh. Emma’s indignation was charming. Jo didn’t even want to break anything anymore.
“How can you just not say anything when they’re writing stuff like this?” Emma asked. “Acting like you can’t do this?”