Something to Talk About(3)

Victoria laughed. “Fine, Jo, you were right. Higher necklines only.”

Emma looked at Jo in the mirror. Still looking at her phone, she raised one hand in acknowledgment. “I’m always right, V.”

Victoria rolled her eyes at Emma, still chuckling. “Okay, let’s get you into the next one,” she said, thrusting the red dress at her. “And I just thought of another one you might like—I’ll be right back.”

She disappeared, and Emma headed back into the dressing room. As Emma tried to unzip herself, she caught sight of the price tag on the dress. She opened the dressing room door without thinking.

“Jo,” she hissed, and normally she didn’t call her boss by her first name, but these were desperate times.

The distress must have been obvious in Emma’s tone; Jo was beside her in half a moment.

“What?”

“This dress is five thousand dollars,” Emma whispered. She didn’t want Victoria or any other employee to realize Emma wasn’t rich enough to even try on these clothes.

Jo rolled her eyes. “No wonder Victoria pulled it for you. Trying to up her commission, apparently.”

“I cannot afford this,” Emma said.

“Well, you’re not buying it anyway. And it didn’t suit you.”

It didn’t, but Jo’s words made Emma fidget for some reason. She straightened up, had a few inches on Jo regardless of her boss’s ever-present heels. “Right. It didn’t look good on me.”

Jo’s lips pressed into a thin line. “You’re not usually one to fish for compliments, Ms. Kaplan,” Jo said, though Emma hadn’t meant to fish for anything. “And you’re the one who said it was too low cut.”

But Jo did, too, apparently. Told Victoria beforehand it wasn’t right. Emma was grateful that her boss knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t be comfortable at a work thing in a dress like that. Not that she’d be comfortable anywhere in any style of dress that cost five thousand dollars.

“I can’t afford something a quarter of this price,” Emma said. “I know this place is expensive, but surely there’s something cheaper.”

“As I said, you’re not paying for it.” Jo turned and walked back to the sofa, sitting down again and pulling up her phone.

Emma flushed with understanding.

“No, Ms. Jones,” she said. “That’s too much.”

Jo looked up, raising both eyebrows at Emma. “Do you have another way to get an appropriate outfit for the SAG Awards? Please, Emma, I pay you well but not that well. Bryce Dallas Howard may like Neiman Marcus off-the-rack gowns for events but that doesn’t mean I’ll let my assistant be seen in one.”

Jo stood out against the cream-colored couch. Black hair, blacker clothes. Emma wondered what her SAGs dress was like. Jo’s everyday style tended toward grayscale. Simple, no nonsense. At events, though, she was a revelation. People still talked about her light blue strapless ball gown with pockets from the Emmys years ago. Emma was going to have to find something outstanding to fit in with Jo on the red carpet.

“Why are you still in that?” Victoria asked, returning with a royal-blue dress draped over her arm. The color was so spectacular, Emma’s hands itched to reach for it.

“Can’t get the zipper,” Emma said.

“You couldn’t help the girl out?” Victoria grumbled at Jo. She hung the blue dress by the others and came over to unzip Emma.

“I want that one,” Emma said, pointing to the blue gown. Now that it was hung, she could see it fully, high boatneck all the way to the slight train where it was longer in the back.

“You can try it after the red,” Victoria said.

Emma didn’t look away from the blue one. “But I love it.”

Victoria laughed at her but switched the dresses.

Just taking the gown off its hanger made Emma love it more. The material was soft and smooth, cool against her fingers. The back was mostly open, with a thick X of fabric crisscrossing it. The zipper was hidden in the side, and she could get it herself. The fit felt perfect. Emma ran her hands over her hips and couldn’t help but smile.

When she came out of the dressing room door, Victoria shrieked with delight and Jo stared. She just stared at her, blinking a few times, and Emma felt powerful. Her smile grew.

“Oh, baby, that’s it,” Victoria said. “And I haven’t even seen the back, turn around, turn around.”

Emma chuckled. “Let me get in front of the mirrors first.”

It looked as good as it felt. Emma beamed at her reflection. She turned her back to the mirror, and that was even better. It was more skin than she’d usually show, but she didn’t mind since it wasn’t cleavage. She took her hair out of the bun to fall in messy waves past her shoulders.

Victoria whistled. “What do you think?”

“I love it,” Emma said.

“Jo?”

Emma looked at Jo in the mirror. Her boss was watching her, eyes unblinking in a way Emma wasn’t sure was good or bad. Jo glanced at Victoria instead.

“She’ll need heels.”

Emma held in a sigh. She wanted Jo’s opinion on the dress. Jo was right, though—the fabric pooled on the floor. Emma would trip over it without heels.

“It’s pretty damn good, though, right?” Victoria pressed, but Jo stayed noncommittal.