Something to Talk About(36)

“Good morning, what can I get for you?” The young man behind the counter was altogether too cheery given it was before eight a.m. His eyes went wide when he fully looked at her, and she offered him a still-not-caffeinated-enough smile.

“I believe your boss is expecting me,” she said. “Could you check in with her?”

“Yes, of course, right away.”

He disappeared into the back, and Jo stepped out of line to let the next person go. When the worker returned, he waved her to the back as well, smiling too wide. Jo was glad he wasn’t asking for an autograph.

“Thanks, Scott,” Avery said.

True to her word from last night, she was busy rolling out dough. She didn’t pause when she greeted Jo.

“So what’s your proposition for me?” Avery said.

She reached for a bowl of a chocolate mixture and started spreading it on the rolled-out dough in front of her. Jo knew exactly how delicious the bread would end up being.

“You need to hire another worker,” she said, “but you can’t afford to pay them what you’d like.”

“I’m aware of my business situation, Jo,” Avery said.

“If I were to cover their salary, you wouldn’t have a situation,” Jo said.

Avery stopped what she was doing. “What?”

“I could pay the salary for another worker, or a couple workers even.”

Avery stared blankly at her.

“It’s simple,” Jo said. “I pay a salary or two—what? Fifty thousand each?—until you get to the point where you can cover them.”

Avery sputtered. “Fifty thousand? You’re just offering me a hundred thousand dollars a year? In exchange for what?”

“For you hiring two more workers so you’re less stressed.”

“In exchange for what for you?”

Jo shrugged. This wasn’t how she expected the conversation to go. People tended to be disbelieving but rather excited to get money, not hostile.

“I’m not interested in charity,” Avery said.

Jo rolled her eyes. “It’s investment, not charity.”

“Investment generally means you get something in return.”

“I do,” Jo said. “It’s easier for me to hire you to cater, which means my cast and crew love me more.”

Avery leveled her with a look. “God, you really have no idea how money works, do you?”

Jo rolled her eyes again. “I have a lot of it—”

“Which is why you don’t—”

Jo held up a hand and Avery stopped talking. “I have a lot of it, more than I need. And I know I can use it to make my friend’s life better. So I’m fairly certain I know exactly how money works.”

Avery’s eyebrows went up. Perhaps Jo shouldn’t have admitted to thinking of her as a friend.

Avery went back to her work. She finished with the spread and started rolling up the dough in front of her. “One worker,” she said. “And you don’t have to cover their whole salary, just the difference between what I can pay them and I’d like to pay them.”

“You can work out the specifics with my accountant,” Jo said.

“I was right at that first game,” Avery said. “You’re totally a softie.”

Jo let out a chuckle. “Look, I don’t like that many people, but your family seems to be the exception. So shut up and take my money.”

Avery smirked at her. “You basically offered me a hundred thousand dollars a year, just because you’re nice.”

“I’m no such thing and I won’t stand for this slander.”

Avery laughed outright, and Jo grinned. She didn’t think about how it helped, the ice queen persona. That people tried to hurt you less if they didn’t think you had feelings. That the only way to get anything done as a woman in Hollywood was to have everyone assume you took no shit. And even with that reputation, people still thought she was too soft to write Agent Silver.

“I’ll leave you to your work,” Jo said. “My accountant will call later to set up a time you can sit down and figure things out while you’re not simultaneously making food.”





8


    EMMA


Emma loved it when Avery invited herself over for dinner, because Avery inviting herself over for dinner meant Avery making or buying dinner, and cleaning up, too. She did it when she needed a break from her family or she had to girl-talk something out or she just hadn’t seen her sister recently. Whatever the reason, Emma was always happy to oblige.

When Avery said she was coming over with homemade lasagna to throw in the oven, Emma didn’t think anything of it. It was a little unusual for Avery to come over on a Friday night, but nothing seemed suspicious. Emma spun on one of her kitchen stools and told her sister about her day.

“Jo says I should consider being a script doctor,” Emma said, rolling her eyes. “But I don’t even actually do any of the writing, I’m just good at helping her figure out what she needs to do.”

“Cool,” Avery said. Her voice was flat.

Emma stopped spinning on her stool. “What?”

“Nothing,” Avery said. “What?”

“Why are you being weird?”