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It was an article about Jo cutting her down on set. There were quotes from a source; the leak was apparently back, because they knew exactly what had happened. They knew Jo had told her no one cared about her opinions, knew she got dismissed after returning with the iced latte.

Emma clicked away from the article to text Jo.

Somebody on set is leaking stuff to the press. There’s already an article about me talking back to Barry and everything.

The article went on to talk about Jo being seen with her former costar. Emma knew now that they weren’t dating, but the author of this article didn’t. They posited that Jo and Emma had broken up. That was good, Emma supposed. If no one thought they were together, maybe she didn’t have to worry about being comfortable in Jo’s office or laughing at her jokes or whatever else people saw and decided meant more than it did.

I know. Not much can be done without it looking like I’m going on a witch hunt for my girlfriend’s sake.

Jo calling her her girlfriend made the butterflies in Emma’s stomach flutter, even though it was obviously a joke.

Didn’t you see?Emma texted back.We’re not girlfriends anymore. Apparently you broke my heart.

She was quoting the source from the article, who said she’d been sad for a week, but it felt weird anyway. The source wasright, was the thing, and Emma’s sadnesswasbecause of Jo. It wasn’t actually hard to see how everything had been misconstrued.

That doesn’t sound very plausible, Jo texted, just as Emma was thinking about how plausible it was. Another text came through quickly:Hopefully the idea that we’ve “broken up” sticks. It will be nice to be rid of these rumors.

Go out with that former costar again and we should be fine.

Emma typed it but didn’t hit send. It felt weird, felt jealous. It showed she was aware of Jo’s actions outside of work even when they hadn’t talked about them, and that definitely felt weird. Jo had probably read an article by now, anyway, probably saw exactly what Emma saw, things saying she and Sam Allen were now dating. Emma didn’t need to point it out.

I’ll try to look appropriately depressed at work, Emma texted instead.

The three dots showing that Jo was typing appeared for a long time before Emma got her next message.

I meant it when I said I want work to be a place you can thrive. Don’t let any rumors, or anything at all, prevent that.

I know, boss.

Emma kept their conversation open. The three little dots appeared on and off for almost five minutes. Jo didn’t send another text.

Emma opened a new message and texted her sister that they should hang out tomorrow after work. She’d tell Avery about Barry, she would, but she was going to take care of herself tonight. That meant ordering in Vietnamese and drawing herself a bath after dinner. She kept the bathroom lights off, lay back in her tub illuminated only by candlelight. She considered getting a cat—something easy to take care of, but something she could snuggle after hard days. She couldn’t keep asking her sister to bring over the rottweilers. Avery was the one who suggested it this time, actually, which meant she must have figured out things hadn’t gone well today. Maybe she’d read about Emma and Jo’s “breakup,” and thought Emma was sad about that. Emma really hoped the breakup stuck. Anything to get her out of the tabloids.

As Emma dried off and got into her pajamas, she wondered what would happen when Jo leftInnocents. She wasn’t so naively idealistic to think that Jo could be interested in her if she wasn’t an employee, but she hoped they’d end up friends.

—

Jo stopped beside Emma’sdesk the next morning.

“Thanks for the chai,” Emma said, raising the drink in question at Jo.

Jo half smiled, but her brow was furrowed, worry lines around her eyes. Emma’s stomach flipped at Jo’s concern.

“I’m fine,” Emma said before Jo could ask.

“If you don’t want to be here today, that’s okay,” Jo said. “You can—”

“I’m fine, boss,” Emma said again. “I’m good.”

“If you need anything, you’ll let me know?” It was more question than command.

“I will.”

“Okay.”

Emma’s heart beat double time as she and Jo held eye contact. Eventually, Emma gave a roll of her eyes—both at herself and Jo—with a smile.

“Your script isn’t going to edit itself,” she said.