Something to Talk About(81)
“I’m sorry,” Emma said immediately. “I didn’t mean to—I shouldn’t have—I’m sorry I fell asleep on you.”
“It’s fine,” Jo said. She glanced toward the desk at the gate. “We’re boarding soon.”
“Right,” Emma said.
She didn’t feel quite awake yet, still sleep warm and drowsy. The smile on Jo’s face was so soft Emma couldn’t stop staring at it. Jo caught her.
“You okay?” she said.
“What? Yeah.” Emma sat up straighter. “Yeah, I’m good.”
Their zone was announced for boarding. As they gathered their bags, Emma noticed Jo flexing her left hand, stretching the fingers wide, then closing them into a fist, like she was trying to get blood flowing to it again. Emma didn’t know what time it had been when she fell asleep. How long did she sleep on Jo’s shoulder? How long did Jo let her? She wondered if it meant something, or if she was just reading into it because she wanted to see her feelings reciprocated.
She kept quiet all the way through takeoff and hoped Jo assumed it was because she was tired.
“You won’t mind if I fall asleep, will you?” Jo asked. “Not all of us got our nap in yet.”
Emma gave her a smile. “Of course not, boss.”
“Wake me up if you get too bored,” Jo said, like that was a thing Emma would ever do.
Jo put on an eye mask and reclined her seat. Emma looked at her, glad she couldn’t be caught.
Jo was beautiful. Emma had always known that. Everyone thought so. It wasn’t strange to look at her boss on the red carpet and think she was gorgeous, because she was—like, objectively. But it felt different now. Emma looked at her, saw her long hair gathered over one shoulder and thought about how Jo only ever put it in a ponytail when she was stressed. Like when she was on deadline, at the office on a weekend wearing a crewneck sweatshirt but still in her skinny jeans, heels discarded next to the couch. Emma looked at Jo’s face and thought of the different ways she smiled, close-lipped mostly, but every once in a while that face broke into a true grin, toothy and glad. Emma looked at Jo and thought she was gorgeous in a way that had nothing to do with objective standards of beauty. Watching her sleep felt too intimate, suddenly.
This whole trip had a strange kind of intimacy. Maybe it was in all business trips. Emma remembered upfronts this year, Jo’s hand on her back as she struggled to breathe. She remembered Jo marching into her hotel room with pizza. The previous year’s trip to upfronts wasn’t like that, though. She’d explored half of Brooklyn by herself that first year, Jo nowhere near to feed her or comfort her or worry about her.
And even this year’s upfronts weren’t like this trip. This trip, where she and Jo explored Calgary together. Where Jo tightened her scarf and looked at her mouth. Where Jo let her sleep on her shoulder even though it was cutting off blood supply. Jo was casual with her the whole time. Jo smiled and laughed and asked Emma’s opinions on everything from the shooting location to what she should order for dinner.
Single Jo, who didn’t want to be Emma’s boss anymore. Emma wondered if she wanted to be more.
If Jo were interested in her, how would Emma know for sure? Jo would never make a move. Not on an employee, and especially not on an employee who had been sexually harassed in the workplace. Jo would never do anything to make Emma uncomfortable. She hadn’t even been the one who initiated the almost kiss. That was all Emma. If anything was going to happen between them, Emma was pretty sure it was going to have to be her. And with Jo’s speech about going for what she wanted—yeah, that was about her job, her career, but Emma knew what she wanted.
She wanted to go back to that day in Jo’s office after her father left, to have Mason not call and interrupt.
She wanted to go back to that moment on the sidewalk with Jo’s hands on her scarf.
She wanted to kiss Jo, more than anything, and Jo had told her to go for what she wanted.
* * *
—
Back in LA, Chloe picked them up from the airport. It was past midnight as they headed toward Emma’s apartment first.
It was late and maybe Emma was sleep deprived and imagining things, but the ride home felt tense. Like the moment was a bowstring pulled taut. Emma’s hand rested next to Jo’s on the middle seat. She would have had to move it only a few inches and they’d be holding hands. Chloe had the privacy divider up; Emma didn’t know why. It was closed when they got into the car. It was probably because it was late, and Chloe thought Jo might want to rest, might want the privacy to sleep, but it felt like it meant something more. Jo looked out the window and Emma looked at Jo’s hand on the seat next to her and this was their last business trip together. This ride felt like the end of something. Emma wondered if it could be the beginning of something else. Her heart thudded in her ears.
Jo broke the silence in the back of the car. “I had a good trip. I hope you did, too.”
“I did, boss,” Emma said quietly.
Jo glanced at her, glanced away. Emma pulled her hand back to her side of the car. She swore Jo watched her do it.
When they pulled up to Emma’s apartment, Chloe hopped out to take Emma’s luggage out of the trunk. Emma stood on the sidewalk, slightly uncomfortable, the way she always was when someone did something for her she could’ve done herself. The rear window was rolled down and Jo smiled out at Emma as Chloe got back into the driver’s seat.