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Emma paced to the other side of Jo’s desk. She blinked a few times, then looked at Jo. “Why’d you let me wear it?”

Jo considered. “You looked nice.”

Emma looked at the floor, her cheeks flushing. It was the truth—she had looked beautiful. But Jo also knew Emma wasn’t exactly comfortable with the whole thing. She hadn’t wanted to exacerbate that by making her change the jewelry she’d picked.

“Perhaps you should make your social media private,” Jo said.

Emma nodded. “Yeah. Already done.”

“Right. Well.” Jo closed the tab and Emma straightened up. “I’ll be writing all morning. No calls unless it’s an emergency.”

“Yes, boss,” Emma said. She headed for her own desk. “Door closed?” she asked over her shoulder.

Jo hesitated. “Yes, please.”

She always wrote with the door closed. No distractions. She didn’t know what made her hesitate today. Emma didn’t need Jo watching over her. The rumors were meaningless; they weren’t going to affect Emma’s workday. Even if they did, Emma could handle it. She’d handled everything that came with the job, thus far. Jo didn’t need to worry about her.

The door closed behind Emma. Jo knew she should get to writing, but she opened her browser again anyway. She wouldn’t normally read the gossip columns, but for some reason, she was interested.

She and Emma were apparently dating, which was all Amir let her know that morning. None of the sites reporting on it seemed to be able to decide when they’d moved beyond the boss-assistant relationship. Some claimed they’d been dating from the start. Many had collected pictures of the two of them, on set or at studio events, as though Emma standing near Jo was evidence of a relationship. The red-carpet picture was the most prominent, though, no matter what site Jo visited. She understood why. Looking at it, even she was almost convinced there was something there.

She allowed herself ten minutes of perusing the internet beforeclosing it all and opening her script document. She was almost finished with the first draft of the finale. She laced her fingers together and stretched her arms in front of her, palms out. Time to get to work.

—

Jo was beginning toget into the groove of writing when her cell phone rang. The caller ID made her roll her eyes affectionately. She should have expected this.

“Hello?”

“You want to tell me what’s going on?”

“Nice to talk to you, too, Ev.”

Evelyn scoffed. “Oh, don’t pretend like you bother with niceties when you call me.”

True. Jo had a tendency to start phone calls with her best friend withyou won’t believe what this fucking idiot did—Evelyn had always been her favorite person to complain to.

“Nothing isgoing on,” Jo said, leaning back in her chair.

“Nothing is going on? But you took someone to an awards show? And that someone happened to be your assistant? And not the frumpy assistant I expected—she fit in just fine on the red carpet.”

“Yes, well, I bought the dress for her, didn’t I?”

“Are you serious?”

Jo almost paused at the incredulity in Evelyn’s voice, but better not to give an inch. “Of course,” she said. “You think I was going to trust her to find one herself? Or make her buy a dress she’ll likely only wear once?”

“How else could you have fixed that problem?” Evelyn said. Shehmmed. “Let me think. Oh, I know! You could have not invitedher. Then she wouldn’t have needed a dress that she would only wear once.”

“You’re just jealous I’ve never taken you to an awards show,” Jo said.

Evelyn laughed. “I haven’t wanted to go to an awards show with you since we were teenagers.”

Evelyn and Jo had grown up together in LA’s Chinatown. Evelyn was the only person outside of Jo’s family who didn’t treat her any differently after she got famous. Younger people acted like celebrity made Jo suddenly special; older people in their community tutted over Jo taking a stage name, as though it were her fault Hollywood didn’t want Jo Cheung. When Jo told Evelyn she landed her breakout role, Ev said, “Cool,” and kept dealing cards for big two.

Jo glanced at the closed door. She was sure Emma had heard plenty of her phone conversations—raised voices with the network or, worse, with her father. Jo spoke quietly.

“I didn’t want to deal with the rumors about Agent Silver,” she said. “About whether or not I could hack it in film. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I needed a buffer. Emma filled that role well.”