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“I really don’t understand why we can’t just say this isn’t true,” she said.
Jo sipped her coffee and remembered when Emma first started as her assistant, how afraid she had been of speaking out of turn.
“What if I want to date someone, but they think I’m datingyou?”
Jo rolled her eyes. “If a man doesn’t believe you when you tell him the rumors aren’t true, he’s not worth your time.”
“I didn’t say aman,” Emma snapped, and Jo blinked at her. Emma colored slightly. “I mean—maybe a man. But not necessarily.”
Jo nodded once. “Regardless. Anyone interested in you should trust you. Besides,” she said, shifting away from the subject of Emma’s sexuality, “a comment is going to make this storybigger, not make it go away. Like I said, I haven’t discussed my love life in almost thirty years in Hollywood. To say something now would make this time seem somehow different, which isn’t going to make reporters stop calling.”
Emma scowled.
“Not commenting will make them stop calling,” Jo said. “Any comment leads to clarifying questions, leads to requests for more. When they know you’re never going to say anything, they eventually leave you alone.”
Jo was right, whether Emma wanted to believe her or not.
“I’ve been in this business as long as you’ve been alive, Emma.”
That got Emma to sigh and tell Jo her schedule, apparently done with discussing the rumors.
—
Jo’s brother called herwhen she was eating lunch.
“Jo Jo, have you been keeping secrets?”
“You know I hate that nickname,Vinny,” Jo said. “And no, I have not.”
Vincent laughed. “Really? Because it seems like you’re dating!”
“Don’t believe everything you read.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he chuckled. “I was just hopeful. Thought you had finally found someone who’d put up with you.”
“She does put up with me,” Jo said.
“Maybe youshouldbe dating her.”
Jo didn’t dignify that by addressing it. “These rumors have done wonders for my social life,” she said instead. “Evelyn yesterday, today my little brother. I probably have a call from Father to look forward to.”
“Nope,” Vincent said. “He’ll call me for the details later.”
“Of course.”
Jo was glad. She last spoke to her father at Christmas, and she’d prefer not to again until next Christmas. She didn’t want to deal with her father’s disapproval, even over something fictional.
“How are the boys?”
Her nephews were five and nine and were some of her favorite people in the world. She’d never wanted kids herself, but she adored her brother’s. Even when she was busy, she found time for their baseball games and birthday parties and anywhere else they might want her.
Vincent told her all about them, and Jo let her lunch run long.
—
The rumors truly weregreat for Jo’s social life. Evelyn called again that evening. Again, she didn’t lead with hello.
“You madeUs Weekly.”
