Something to Talk About(50)
“I—um.” Emma wanted to hold onto her anger but her brain short-circuited around the word lesbian.
“Christ, Emma, of course you were right,” Jo said. “I told Barry as soon as you left.”
Emma blinked at her.
“I’m sorry I treated you that way,” Jo said. “But God, people already think we’re fucking—you think me letting you talk to Barry Davis out of turn was going to help?”
That made sense, sure. Maybe if Emma weren’t having such a terrible day, she would have figured that out herself. Except, for months now, Jo had been all about ignoring the rumors like that would make them go away. The rumors that could be true, given that Jo was a lesbian. Apparently.
That wasn’t the important part of this conversation, though. Sorry or not, Jo had been treating her poorly. To do it in front of this awful man was worse. Jo was supposed to be winning back Emma’s trust, and instead it felt like she’d picked Barry over her, which was ridiculous. This was Emma’s career, not choosing teams on the playground. But that was still somehow what hurt the most.
“I just wish you had had my back,” Emma said quietly.
“I can’t have your back in everything if we ever want these rumors to go away,” Jo said. “I’m your boss, Emma. I have to act like it.”
“There’s a difference between acting like my boss and throwing me under the bus,” Emma said. “And you know there is, because you’ve never done that before.”
Jo fisted her hand in her hair and tugged. She looked sad, at least, which Emma liked even if she shouldn’t.
“I don’t know why the rumors even matter to you,” Emma said.
“Excuse me?”
“I don’t know why you care about the rumors anyway.” Emma couldn’t figure out why she was choosing this battle, except she was mad at Jo for everything with Avery, was mad at her again for telling her off in front of people, no matter the reason. She didn’t want to be. She wanted to be over it all. Being mad only made things worse, but she couldn’t stop. And so she stood her ground. “You’re seen as getting some hot young thing. I’m the one who people think is unable to get a job without sleeping with someone.”
Jo’s teeth flashed into a smile she quickly bit down on. “While I admire your confidence in being some hot young thing,” she said, and Emma realized that might have been a bit much, “that is not all I’m seen as. And I know I have a reputation for not giving a fuck what people think about me, but I’ve cultivated that. I’ve cultivated that because it’s easier than people knowing they can hurt me.”
Emma’s heart twisted a little. Jo continued.
“I know you’re mad at me, Emma,” Jo said. “And I deserve it. Not telling you about meeting Avery was wrong, and I’m sorry.”
Emma stiffened. That didn’t need to be part of this conversation.
“And I’m sorry I acted like it didn’t matter, like I didn’t have to apologize,” Jo said. “You deserve better than that.”
This was exactly what Emma had wanted Jo to say this morning, before Barry ever showed up. Now, she didn’t feel ready to address it.
“But you can’t take that out on me like this,” Jo said. “I had to tell you off because you were out of place. Going easy on you would’ve just stoked the fire of people believing we’re sleeping together, and that’s bad for both of us. Stop being mad and think about it for a second.” She sighed. “You think people don’t look at pictures of us and think I’m corrupting this lovely young lady? I’m a predatory lesbian in the middle of a midlife crisis. I’m a frigid bitch who just hasn’t found the right dick. I’m a dragon lady who’s stealing a pretty white girl from the white boys she should be dating.”
Just like that, all of Emma’s anger collapsed.
“Boss, no,” she said, horrified. “You’re not any of those things.”
Jo stared at her for a moment, then shook her head like she was clearing it. “It’s all about perception, Emma. You can’t talk like that to directors, especially not to directors like Barry Davis. No matter how wrong they are.”
Emma nodded. “Right. Won’t do it again.”
“You know you can trust me with these characters. I’ll step in when someone is out of line,” Jo said. She offered Emma a small smile. “You can trust me even when you’re pissed at me.”
“I wasn’t pissed at you.” Emma was, obviously, but she didn’t want to admit it now.
Jo tilted her head at Emma, her smile disbelieving. “Of course you were,” she said. “You should’ve been. I assumed Avery would tell you things, and when she didn’t, I just—I didn’t know how to say anything.” Normally she commanded the room from her sleek white desk chair, but now she looked open—vulnerable, even. Her shoulders were down, her neck long. “The longer it went on the harder it got. Not that that’s an excuse. I shouldn’t have hidden it from you, and I shouldn’t have pretended like it wasn’t my responsibility to tell you, and I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not,” Jo said. “I care about you, Emma, and I want you to thrive. I made a hostile environment for you, and that was wrong and not fair. You deserve to be mad at me, but I hope you can forgive me.”