It was easy, just like Emma had hoped.
They scouted out places and met people who would be involvedif Calgary were chosen as the shooting location. Jo explained the production difficulties of filming in two places—on location in Calgary and in studio in LA. Emma took notes, brainstorming possible solutions to problems that had yet to arise.
—
Their flight out wasscheduled for early evening on Saturday. For their last hurrah in Calgary, Jo took Emma to a late lunch at a deli. They were seated at a booth in the back corner.
“This place is supposed to have the best Montreal smoked meat,” Jo said. “It’s like Canada’s pastrami.”
Emma grinned. She hadn’t found this restaurant in her research, but—“It’s perfect.”
Jo got a Reuben. Emma couldn’t resist the latkes.
“As a kid I’d eat these until I puked,” she said, dunking a forkful into applesauce before raising it to her mouth.
“I hope you’ve outgrown that,” Jo chuckled. “My overeating food of choice as a kid was Evelyn’s mom’s bee hoon—rice noodles with veggies and chicken, shrimp, and pork.”
In the moment, Emma wasn’t jealous of Evelyn at all, just happy Jo had someone who made her smile like that.
“How long have you two been together?” Emma asked.
The smile fell off Jo’s face and she just stared at her, mouth open.
Emma backtracked. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. You don’t have to—”
“No, Emma, no, God, it’s not—” Jo pressed her lips together like she was swallowing laughter. “Evelyn and I are not and have never been dating.”
Oh.Emma thought it before she said it aloud. “Oh.”
“Ev has been my best friend since I was a kid,” Jo said. Hercheeks were red. “She would die laughing if she knew you thought we were dating.”
“Right.”
Emma took another bite of her latke. Evelyn was Jo’s best friend. Evelyn, who stayed for a week after Jo and Emma almost kissed. Avery was Emma’s best friend, and she didn’t even know about it until this week. Did Evelyn? The idea of Jo talking about Emma seemed unrealistic.
Jo pushed her plate toward Emma, pulling her from her thoughts. Half of Jo’s sandwich was untouched.
“Try the smoked meat,” Jo said.
Emma’s stomach fluttered. She used her fork to get a piece of meat off Jo’s sandwich. It was like pastrami, but not exactly the same. It tasted good, but when she swallowed, it felt like she hadn’t chewed enough.
She smiled at Jo, her cheeks tight.
“Amazing,” she said. “But I can’t eat another bite.”
She set aside her fork. Jo picked up her own and poked at the second half of her sandwich.
“Are you excited to move to associate producer?” she asked.
Emma swallowed. “Sure.”
Jo looked up at her, eyes searching. Her face softened. “Did you pick me out a good assistant?”
“Of course, boss,” Emma said, even while she doubted herself.
Marlita was great. Qualified. Kind. Seemed hardworking. But Emma didn’t trust her to take over the job. When Jo was on deadline, would Marlita know she had to not only bring Jo lunch, but also make sure she stopped writing long enough to eat it? That after two p.m. her iced lattes needed to be decaf unless they’d be working late?
And then it clicked.