Page 54 of Nothing But the Truth

CHAPTER

12

Lucy stopped at Joanna’s door and gave her the courtesy of two knocks before she shoved it open.

“I need to speak to you!” she blurted. She wasn’t even all the way inside.

Joanna looked up from her desk, startled, from the depths of obvious exhaustion. Her jaw was set hard. Her usually sleek bob was pulled half back in a banana clip Lucy was shocked to see she even owned. All her lipstick had rubbed off, and her eyes were bloodshot, from tears or rage, Lucy couldn’t be sure.

But the biggest giveaway of her state was her fist clutched around her necklace pendant so tightly her knuckles were white. She had bypassed nerves and gone straight off the deep end into overwhelming emotion, trying to save a sinking ship while she drowned.

Joanna pressed a polished finger into her desk phone to mute the call. “Lucy? I’m on the phone.”

Lucy shut the door and crossed the space she usually took refuge in; the cool, calm colors and distant ocean view. Perhaps it was her own energy, but the room felt hostile.

“Sorry, but I need to talk to you.” She thought Joanna was going to scold her, but the confronted confusion on her face softened into fatigue.

“Now’s not really the best time,” she said over the voice still yammering through the phone. Whomever she was talking to was none the wiser he’d been muted. Lucy heard snippets of demeaning and counterproductive. Joanna pointed at the phone. “This is someone at Billboard asking for a comment on the backlash over Ms. Ma’s single being anti-feminist, and honestly, I can’t.” In an unprecedented move—at least one Lucy had never witnessed from always-had-it-together Joanna—she held her face in her hand and sighed. “Today is impossible.”

A surge of sympathy, rage, resolve, and just plain nerve kicked Lucy into gear. She leaned over Joanna’s desk, a normally neat glass top that had been scattered with papers. “Let me take it.” She jabbed the mute button before Joanna had a chance to respond.

“...find the lyrics offensive,” the male voice on the other end said. “Particularly, we’re looking for a comment on the argument that feminists didn’t fight for equality only to have women sing hypersexualized songs in lingerie.”

Lucy lifted the phone from the receiver both so the caller could hear her clearly and so Joanna couldn’t cut her off. “Hi. This is a representative from J&J Public. Our official statement on the controversy surrounding Ms. Ma’s new single is that it’s an empowering expression of female sexuality, something the industry has no problem with when it comes to male artists. And as far as the concern over the song being counterproductive to the feminist movement, I’ll remind you that part of the purpose of the feminist fight for equality is to give women the freedom to do whatever the fuck they want. Quote me.”

She hung up with a gratifying slam of the phone.

Joanna blinked at her, and Lucy swore she saw her lips twitch into a smile.

“That should handle it,” Lucy said. She pulled out a chair and sat across from Joanna. “Look, I came in here to give you a heads-up. Obviously everything Annie said about Jonathan is true, as I’m sure you’ve gathered given our conversation this morning. I know this is why you left lunch early, and I get it; you didn’t want to make a scene. But you should know I’m the one who told Annie to stand up for herself. I didn’t expect her to out herself in such dramatic fashion, but I have a plan to fix it.”

Joanna stared at her, guarded, but seemed to be silently encouraging her to go on.

“I don’t know if it’s fair of me to ask what you knew about what was going on all this time because I knew and never said anything but, Joanna, Jonathan is destroying this company. I know he’s your brother, and that complicates things more than I can understand, but you should be in charge. Everyone knows it.” She pulled up her email draft to Monica Brown and aimed the screen at Joanna. Her thumb hovered over the send icon. “I have an email ready to break the story to Deadline. It’s Annie’s allegations with my corroboration. I was hoping to get someone else to speak up, but for now, it’s just us. I’m going to send it, but I wanted you to know first.”

For the first time, perhaps ever, Joanna looked frightened.

“Who else was going to speak up?”

“Chase, but he backed out.” The sting burned anew as she said it. She shook it off. “Joanna,” she said sternly, “you gave me a chance with Lily Chu. You’ve given me all sorts of chances in my career, and now I’m giving you a chance. I send this, and the story blows up. Jonathan loses his position, and you take your rightful place as head of this company. Yes, it is going to be a painful process, but it needs to happen. It’s time.”

Lucy held up her phone, consciously keeping her thumb off the screen. She wanted to hit send, to set something bigger than herself in motion, but she realized Joanna’s approval was important to her.

The silence stretched, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Lucy felt like she stood on top of it looking down. She was in control, and they both knew it.

Joanna pressed her lips together and reached for the pendant on her necklace. Lucy could see the violent struggle playing out in her eyes. She may have been asking her to do something impossible, but it could become possible if it promised the change she deserved—the change they all needed.

Joanna took a breath, and Lucy held hers.

“Sometimes tough love is the most necessary kind.” She glanced at Lucy’s phone with a subtle nod.

Her heart swelled as she hit send. She imagined a dramatic climax: the symphony striking up something foreboding and victorious at once, cymbals crashing, strings singing. But it was only her, Joanna, and the tense anticipation that followed electronic communication.

Lucy hoped she did not get Monica’s out-of-office autoreply.

“Thank you,” she said.

Joanna, looking both shocked and liberated by her own actions, bobbed her head. Her eyes traveled to the door. “And, Lucy? You were never in here.”

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