Something to Talk About(73)

“Come on.” Evelyn dragged the words out. “Let me take you out and get you drunk and make you forget about how you hate yourself for—”

She cut herself off but glanced toward the open door, outside of which Emma worked at her desk. Jo glared at Evelyn, but there was no real heat behind it.

“Plus,” Evelyn said, “I had a great idea. We’ll go out with Sammy.”

Jo had to admit that was actually a good idea.

“Fine,” Jo said. “But you’re not telling anyone at the restaurant it’s my birthday.”

Evelyn rolled her eyes. “That’s a terrible condition, but I accept.”

Sam was thrilled to go to dinner with them. It was more fun than Jo had had in weeks. Evelyn flirted her heart out the whole time, and still all the tabloids talked about the next day was how Jo and Sam were dating.



* * *



—

Jo and Evelyn spent the weekend kicking around their old haunts, realizing they were both probably too old for most of them. It was a great time anyway.

Evelyn came back to work with Jo Monday morning. Emma smiled sweetly at her.

“I would’ve gotten you a latte if I’d known you’d be here,” she said.

Evelyn chuckled.

“She’ll live,” Jo said before Evelyn could say anything rude.

She closed the door behind them. She wondered what Emma thought of Evelyn visiting. Was Jo being obvious—needing her best friend after she and Emma had almost kissed? Maybe it was tipping her hand, but it was keeping her sane.

“You picked a good one, you know?” Evelyn said, lounging across what Jo had come to think of as Emma’s couch. “Loyal, obviously. And certainly not bad looking.”

“Shut up.”

It wasn’t like Jo didn’t know Emma was attractive. She’d always known, really. Since back when Emma was hired on props. She was a beautiful woman, objectively. Jo knew that, and it never used to matter.

She hated that it mattered now. Hated that she noticed it, at random times, even before her father’s visit. Emma would be telling her about a meeting later, and Jo would get distracted by the way her hair fell in front of her face. It made Jo feel dumb, and inappropriate. Emma was still her employee. Emma was her employee who had already been sexually harassed. She didn’t need her boss creeping on her.

Evelyn spent the whole last day of her visit teasing Jo about how great Emma was. Jo couldn’t exactly disagree.



* * *



—

“You’re not going to take me to the airport?” Evelyn acted outraged.

“My car service will,” Jo said, sorting papers on her desk. “I, however, have a job I’ve been slacking on during your entire visit.”

“As though you’ve ever slacked in anything in your entire life,” Evelyn muttered.

Jo came around her desk to stand in front of her best friend.

“Thank you for coming,” she said.

Evelyn grinned. “I’m really glad I did.”

“I’m really glad you did, too.”

Evelyn hugged her, tight. “There’s nothing wrong with your feelings,” she said right into Jo’s ear. “You’re great, and she’s great, and if things work out, that will be great.”

Jo tried not to roll her eyes, because nothing was going to work out, but she appreciated the sentiment.

“Get out of here, okay?” Jo said. “Don’t miss your flight.”

“I’ll be back if you need me, you know?”

Jo’s heart felt full. “I know.”



* * *



—

With Evelyn gone, Jo had nothing to distract her from Emma, whose smiles still never reached her eyes. Jo wanted to give Emma a way out, if she was uncomfortable. She called to her from behind her desk.

“What’s up?” Emma asked. She hovered at the door to Jo’s office.

“Come in.”

Emma did, her eyes shifting around the room, nervous. Jo hated that she made her feel that way.

“How is the search for my next assistant coming?” Jo asked.

Emma scratched the back of her neck. “Fine. Good. I’m still narrowing down résumés.”

“I was thinking, if you wanted to, you can move to associate producer earlier than midseason. As soon as you hire your replacement, we can make your promotion official.”

“I know,” Emma said slowly, like she didn’t understand. “And it’s on track for that to happen at midseason.”

“Right,” Jo said. “If you wanted to move on sooner, I meant. You’re welcome to speed up the process.”

Emma stared at her. Jo adjusted some papers on her desk. She sighed, didn’t say what she really meant. I’d understand if you’re desperate to get away from me.

“I’ll move on at midseason,” Emma said. “As I said, I’m still going through résumés. I want to take my time and make sure I hire the right person. There’s no need to rush, is there?”

“Of course not,” Jo said. “If you don’t want to—of course there’s no rush.”

If Emma wanted to get away from her, Jo wouldn’t stop her. But she didn’t, apparently. Jo felt marginally less terrible about the whole thing.