Something to Talk About(28)

“I’m staying here until the paramedics arrive.”

“You shouldn’t have called them!” Emma’s chest was already feeling better. “I hadn’t even taken my rescue inhaler yet. You panicked.”

Jo’s eyes flashed. “You couldn’t breathe,” she said, like that was explanation enough.

Emma supposed maybe it should have been. Jo hadn’t dealt with Emma’s asthma. Emma hadn’t had an attack at work before. It made sense that Jo wouldn’t know what to do. It was sweet, really, that she was so worried. But she also had a panel to get to.

“Boss,” Emma said quietly. The crowd around them had dissipated to just concerned looks from passersby, but Emma made sure not to be overheard. “Go to the panel. I’m fine, and we don’t need to give anyone more ammunition.”

Jo looked at her blankly.

“You can’t miss a panel with potential advertisers because you’re worried about your assistant who everyone thinks you’re sleeping with.” Emma managed to get it all out without blushing. Jo removed her hand from Emma’s back. “I’m fine. Go.”

“Text me if you need anything,” Jo said. “I’ll check in as soon as I’m done.”

“Go,” Emma said.

Jo’s eyebrows were furrowed and her mouth was a gash of a frown, but she went. She somehow got off the ground gracefully, even in her heels. After a moment of smoothing down her dress and tucking her hair behind her ears, she went into business mode, striding off with purpose.



* * *



—

Emma was so embarrassed when the paramedics arrived. Her breathing was almost back to normal by then, and she knew she was wasting their time. They’d given her an oxygen mask to breathe through, but she pulled it away to apologize again.

“I’m sorry,” she said for the third time. “My boss didn’t know what to do and she called you and I’m really sorry.”

“It’s no problem, ma’am,” one of them said, also for the third time. “You’re sure you’re feeling all right?”

“I’m fine,” Emma said. They had a thing to measure her lung capacity earlier, and it wasn’t high, but it was good enough, she knew.

“It’d be best if you spent the rest of the evening avoiding any stressors that might cause your asthma to act up,” the female paramedic said. She directed Emma’s hand with the oxygen mask back to her face. “Pollution, smoke, that sort of thing.”

“Crowds, too,” the other paramedic said. “Since that seems to be what caused this attack.”

“Right,” Emma said. “Sure.”

She wanted to go to the panel, was the thing. And then out to dinner, their last night here. She planned to venture out for bagels in the morning before their flight back. She wanted to be out and about, not avoiding stressors.

She considered ignoring the paramedics’ advice, but she knew better. Plus, Jo would probably kill her if she ended up having another asthma attack. So when the paramedics packed up and left, Emma went back to her room instead of to the panel.



* * *



—

The panel ended at five. Emma’s phone rang at 5:03.

She answered the call. “Hey, boss.”

“Are you doing okay?”

“I’m fine,” Emma said. She was, mostly. It had been almost two hours, and with the oxygen from the paramedics, she was better than she usually was at this point after an attack. “How was the panel?”

“They asked us questions and we gave prepared answers,” Jo said, and Emma was almost certain she rolled her eyes. “Tate and Holly and G were worried about you, by the way.”

“That’s sweet of them, but like I said, I’m fine.”

The line was silent for a few moments.

“Do you need anything?” Jo asked.

“What?”

“Do you need anything? Is there anything I could do that would help you?”

Emma needed a nap and some food, in that order. Asthma attacks always left her exhausted.

“No, boss, I’m good,” she said. “I kind of can’t leave my room, on paramedics’ orders, but I can get room service later. Don’t you have plans tonight anyway?”

Emma hadn’t made the plans, which was rare, but the evening was blocked off on Jo’s schedule. It was a personal thing, not a work thing, or Emma would’ve known what it was.

“Yes, well . . .” Jo didn’t say anything more.

“I appreciate you checking in,” Emma said when Jo stayed silent. “I have your six o’clock wake-up call already scheduled for the morning. Let me know if I can do anything else, yeah? Other than that, I’ll just spend the night watching bad television or something.”

“Right,” Jo said. “I’d better go.”

“Have a good night.”

“You, too, Emma.”



* * *



—

Emma took a nap, and when she woke up, she felt almost normal. Almost like her lungs never had any issue. She was starving, though. She thought about the ramen place she went to last year at upfronts and again earlier this week. She thought about the best slice of pizza she’d ever eaten, from this walk-up window in Brooklyn. Maybe she could get away with sneaking out for dinner. Except there was still just the slightest twinge in her chest, and really, she knew better.