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Except the rumors were gone. The rumors went away two months ago. No one tricked Jo into thinking of Emma like this. Emma was strong and smart and so damn loyal. She was beautiful and kind and Jo wanted to kiss her. Emma deserved so much better than anyone thinking she’d sleep with someone for a job. She deserved better than being Jo’s assistant. She deserved better than Jo’s father calling her a slut.

Jo wanted to tell her. It was late, but nottoolate, and Jo’s headwas swimming too much for her to consider this might be a bad decision.

She opened a new message to Emma, didn’t pause to think before typing,I meant what I said yesterday. You are magnificent.

She sent it, and poured herself another glass of scotch. She’d barely recapped the bottle when her phone rang. Her phone rang, and she didn’t understand.

It was Evelyn, but it was almost three a.m. in New York. Why was Evelyn calling her?

Jo picked up. “What are you doing awake?”

“My best friend texted me I’m magnificent.”

Oh.

It was better, probably, that she’d texted Evelyn. Emma didn’t need weird, cryptic late-night texts from her boss.

“What’s going on?” Evelyn asked.

Jo sighed. Rubbed her forehead. Took another sip of her scotch.

“My father came to visit set yesterday.”

Evelyn let out a breath full of the kind of understanding only a best friend could give.

“You deserve to be drunker,” she said, and Jo chuckled. A beat, then: “What happened, Jo?”

“He called Emma a slut, acted like she wasworthless.” Jo wanted to punch something just thinking about it. “God, Evelyn, is this what everyone thinks of her? How have I not contradicted these rumors if this is what people think of her? I should release a statement tomorrow.”

“Okay, honey,” Evelyn said. “You should absolutelynotdo that.”

“I should! I—”

“—will sober up and realize that releasing a statement this long after the rumors started—this long after the rumorsended, even—is going to do more harm than good,” Evelyn said. “Rememberthat according to the tabloids you aren’t together anymore. Most of the world thinks you dumped Emma for Sam.”

“I would never.”

“Yeah, because you’re a big lesbian, I know.”

That was part of it, obviously, but there was something else. The idea of dumping Emma was—they weren’t dating, of course, but Jo wouldnever. The idea of leaving Emma behind, of finding someone to replace her. It was impossible. She wasEmma.

“Look, Jo, it’s almost three in the morning. Can you drink some water and go to bed? I’m going to call you in the midst of your hangover and bother you about this, but I’m really fucking tired right now.”

“Yes, yes,” Jo said, waving the hand holding her drink around and almost spilling it. She set it on the table. “Go to sleep.”

“You promise not to do anything stupid tonight?”

Jo rolled her eyes but promised anyway.

When Evelyn hung up, Jo did as she was told: got water, went to bed. She looked at her phone as she settled under her sheets. It would be easy to send the text to the right person. But it was past midnight by now, and she did promise Evelyn, and she was sober enough to know she was still a little drunk. She set her phone aside and turned off the light.

18

JO

Emma made a valiant effort to act like everything was normal between them the next day. But her smile when she offered Jo coffee was stiff, and Jo knew her too well to think it was real. Jo practically collapsed into the chair behind her desk. She remembered the way Emma had pulled her clenched hand off said desk, and burned her throat with a gulp of coffee.

Emma was the one to lean in, Jo reminded herself. Emma was the one to start the whole thing, to almost kiss her. The excuse sounded thin. Jo was in a position of authority over Emma. She held the responsibility for anything that happened between them, and something almost did. Jo wanted to apologize again. Wanted to kiss her again.