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“Whatever.” Avery plopped herself down next to Emma and took off the bandana she always wore at the bakery. She scrubbed her fingers through her shoulder-length brown hair. “What’s up? Are we still doing the SAGs at my house Sunday? Dylan is under strict instructions that he’s in charge of the kids for the evening.”

Emma laughed nervously. Of course her sister led with that.

“About that... ,” Emma said. Avery tilted her head at her, and Emma decided to rip the Band-Aid off. “Jo needs a buffer so people won’t talk to her about Agent Silver—I don’t know if you saw that gossip column about how apparently she’s not good enough to write it orwhatever”—Emma rolled her eyes—“but she needs a buffer. So she’s taking me to the ceremony.”

“The ceremony?”

“The SAG Awards ceremony.”

Avery blinked. “You’re going to the SAG Awards?”

Emma nodded.

“That’s awesome!”

“I guess?”

“C’mon, Em,” Avery said. “That’s going to be really cool. It’s a little weird your boss is taking you when, like—hasn’t she not taken a date to an awards thing since she was a teenager?”

Emma went red immediately. “Oh my God, Avery, I’m not herdate.”

“You know what I mean,” Avery said, leveling Emma with a stare. “But also, like—that’s how it’s going to look.”

“Just because she takes a woman means everyone is going to suddenly decide she’s gay? Anyone who actually knows who I am is going to know I’m her assistant. And no one else is going to care.”

“If you say so.” Avery shrugged. Her eyes widened. “What are you even going towear?”

Emma cringed, because she still felt like Jo buying her the dress was too much, and she was sure her sister would, too. “Um. A dress. I got it today.”

“You got a dress for the SAGs today? What, after work? It’s barely past six.”

“No,” Emma said. “This afternoon.”

“Jo let you take the afternoon off to get a dress?”

“Not exactly.” Emma sighed. She might as well just say it. “Jo and I went to a dress fitting, and she bought me a dress.”

Avery stared at her sister. Emma tried not to make excuses, knew Jo could do whatever she wanted with her money. And Jowas right, anyway; it would be rude to invite Emma and then make her pay.

“I’ve got pictures of it,” Emma said, reaching for her phone on the coffee table. “She’s taking care of bringing it to the suite where we’re getting ready and stuff so I don’t have to worry about it.”

“You’re getting ready together, too?”

“Yeah,” Emma said, more lightly than she felt. “She always gets ready in a suite. It makes sense for me to, too. I mean, I don’t know how to do my hair or anything for something like this.”

“Dude,” Avery said. “She wants to wife you.”

“What?”

“She totally wants to wife you,” Avery said. She ticked items off on her fingers as she listed them. “Buying you fancy things, spending time with you outside of work, showing you off in public.”

Emma grabbed a throw pillow and made it worth its name, hitting her sister in the face with it. “That’s ridiculous!”

“Is it, though?”

“Yes!” Emma exclaimed. “My boss does not want towifeme. She’s probably not even queer.”

“Just because she’s not out doesn’t mean—”