Jo let out a relieved breath. At least she still had Chantal on her side.
“Send her in, will you?”
Chantal nodded and left, leaving the door open behind her so Jo could hear her tell Emma that Jo wanted to see her.
Emma hovered at the door like she didn’t want to come in.
“Chantal said you needed something?”
“Come in,” Jo said. “Door open.”
She didn’t need anyone thinking she and Emma were holed up in her office doing who knows what.
Emma stood with her hands twined in front of her, looking at the floor. She already knew what this was about, then.
“What were you thinking?” Jo had expected to be angry, but her voice was filled only with disappointment.
Emma sighed. “I thought—” she started. “They’re not evengiving you a chance—just saying you’re not good enough, with nothing to back it up. It seemed so easy to debunk. I knew everyone who ever worked for you or with you or near you would know you could do this. Phil’s—you know Phil in props? His old roommate is a journalist. It seemed like a simple solution.”
“And how exactly did it get out that you organized it?”
“I don’t know!” There was the slightest whine in her voice. Jo tried not to find it endearing. “I was discreet! All I did was kick-start the process by asking some people if they’d be willing to do it. I’m not even one of the ones quoted in the article! I never spoke to the reporter directly. He shouldn’t have known I was the one to organize it.”
That made Jo pause.
If Emma hadn’t talked to the reporter herself, where did the second article come from?
Jo wanted to interrogate her, ask who all knew she was the one who arranged the article, but Emma looked like a dog with its tail between its legs.
“So you not only conspired with other employees behind my back to violate the no-media agreement, you knew your involvement was a bad idea.”
Emma’s head hung. “Chantal said it was a bad idea, too,” she said. “I’m sorry. I should’ve listened.”
This gave the press more to throw at Jo. Not only was she a “midlife crisis of a person in love with her assistant,” she couldn’t even fight her own battles. How was she ever supposed to run an Agent Silver movie if she couldn’t keep her employees from talking to reporters?
“You should’ve,” Jo agreed. “The rumors of our supposed relationship will drag on now. As will the belief that I can’t do my job.”
Emma huffed at that. “Youcan,” she said. “That was the point!”
“As I told you, the people who matter know I can,” Jo said. “I’ve got a contract already signed with the people who matter. All you’ve done is make them second-guess themselves.”
Emma’s eyebrows knit together, her mouth turning down.
“I’m so sorry, boss,” she said. “I promise nothing like this will happen ever again.”
Jo had already known that from the dejected way Emma had walked into her office. It made her want to comfort her assistant when she was supposed to be dressing her down. Emma’s earnest belief in her meant a lot, actually, even if it didn’t manifest itself well.
She considered telling Emma that her indiscretion wouldn’t have been such a problem if it weren’t for a bigger issue: that second article. If Emma didn’t talk to the reporter herself, there was a leak. A real leak, not just her assistant trying to make her look good. That was something Jo was going to have to deal with at some point.
Emma didn’t need to know that, though. It would only serve to make her feel more guilty, and she obviously felt guilty enough.
“I do appreciate it, you know,” Jo found herself saying. “How you think I’ll do a good job with the movie.”
It felt heavier than she meant it.
“Iknowyou will, boss,” Emma said.
Maybe Jo should’ve had her close the door after all.