Something to Talk About(65)

Jo’s throat went tight. Her breath shuddered through her nose. She was not going to rise to the bait.

It wasn’t bait, though. Her father wasn’t saying it with the intent to get a rise out of her; it was simply what he believed. She couldn’t fucking stand him.

“You could fire her,” he continued. “At the end of the season. People move on from shows.”

He said this like he knew anything about television, like he had ever cared about her career. It was her mom who had first put her up for auditions, and it was her mom who had known the ins and outs of the business when Jo was growing up. She doubted her father had seen a single episode of Innocents.

“I would never fire Emma because of rumors,” Jo said.

She shouldn’t have conditioned it. She would never fire Emma. Period. Rumors or not.

“Perhaps at the end of this season you should let her go,” her father said as though she hadn’t spoken. Jo bristled further. She was promoting her midseason, not firing her. “If you’re not even sleeping together, surely she’s not worth keeping around when it damages your reputation.”

Of course, that moment was when Emma arrived.

Emma stood in her doorway with a bag from Jo’s favorite burger place in one hand and a drink in the other. She was looking at Jo’s father with sharp eyes that softened when she looked to Jo.

“I know you said you didn’t need me to get lunch,” Emma said, as though Jo’s father were not there. “But I thought you could use something.”

Jo swallowed. “Great. Thank you.”

Emma came into the office and set the bag on Jo’s desk. She held out the drink.

“Strawberry milkshake.”

Jo must not have kept her nerves in check that morning. A strawberry milkshake was her go-to on stressful days. Emma knew that.

Jo took the cup from her. “Thank you.”

“Do you need anything else, Ms. Jones?” Emma asked, holding eye contact.

Jo heard her father cough, but she didn’t look away from Emma.

“No, Emma,” she said. “I’m fine.”

Emma turned to go. On her way out, though, Jo’s father opened his mouth.

“Honestly, you’re going to throw your reputation away on this slut?”

He said it in Cantonese. Emma couldn’t understand him, didn’t break stride. She hadn’t given him the time of day. Perhaps if Jo could think straight, she’d be proud of Emma for ignoring him. As it was, her head was filled with television static. She couldn’t think at all. She was furious.

“Shut the fuck up,” she said.

That froze both Emma and Jo’s father, and they turned to stare at her, wide-eyed.

“Excuse me?” her father said.

“Shut the fuck up,” she repeated, each word its own sentence. She was standing now, leaning over her desk toward her father. “You do not get to talk about her like that.”

“You do not get to talk to me like that,” he said. “I’m your father and—”

“And you’ve always been a complete jackass,” Jo said. “Apologize to Emma or get out.”

“You’re willing to treat your father this way over some girl?” He said the word with such derision he might as well have been cursing.

Jo had left her door open so her father wouldn’t make a scene. She made it instead, slamming her hands against her desk.

“This woman is fantastic at her job and is the only reason I survive most days,” Jo snapped. “And that’s true whether or not we’re fucking, and whether or not you approve.”

“Josephine!”

“You’ll find that not only can I speak to you however I damn well please, I can also have you removed from the premises.” She picked up the phone on her desk and dialed Mason in security. “Yes, Mason, could you send someone to my office to escort my father from the building? And please make sure he is not allowed entry again without my prior, explicit approval. Great, thank you.” She faked a smile in her father’s direction. “Security will be here in a moment to make sure you can find the door with your head so far up your ass.”

Her father stared at her. She didn’t blink.

“I’ll find the way out myself, thank you,” he said, and left without sparing Emma so much as a glance.

As soon as her father was out of sight, Jo crumpled, resting on both hands on her desk, all of the breath out of her in a harsh sigh. She hung her head. She heard Emma close her office door and was grateful; she needed a moment to get herself together.

Then Jo heard movement. She looked up to find that Emma hadn’t left her alone after all. Emma had stayed on this side of the door when she closed it, and she was now hesitantly rounding Jo’s desk.

“Boss,” she said. “Are you okay?”

Jo nodded. “It’s fine.”

“Jo,” Emma said.

She caught Jo’s hand where it was clenched around the edge of her desk. Jo let Emma uncurl her fingers.

“What can I do?” Emma said.

Jo wasn’t lying when she said Emma got her through most days. She did it because of things like this, because of the way she had Jo’s back, the way she took care of her. It was her job, sure, but Emma went above and beyond on a regular basis.