Chapter two

She barely slept. Of course she didn't. The second she'd left Regina behind in the car, everything had turned cold and irritating, and her empty apartment was suddenly the last place she wanted to be. She'd briefly considered calling Regina and asking if Sidney could come and get her again, but instead she'd gone to bed wearing a thick sweater even though it was summer.

The only rest she got came just before her alarm went off, and when she jolted awake again, she wasn't particularly surprised to see that she'd overslept by 30 minutes. Forcing herself out of bed, she hurried around getting dressed while trying desperately to think about anything other than the one thing that was swirling round and round her head.

Just as she squeezed some toothpaste onto her brush, the buzzer went downstairs. She ignored it. Her apartment wasn't too far from the local middle school and it wasn't rare for kids to enjoy a game of ding-dong ditch on their way there. It buzzed again while she was brushing her teeth, but it wasn't until the third time that she actually started to get annoyed.

She rinsed off her toothbrush and headed back to the bedroom, grabbing a sweater. It was then that there was a knock at her door.

Glancing at the clock, Emma wandered over with one arm tangled up in a sleeve. When she pulled the door open, her heart stopped.

"Hey," she said. Regina was smiling nervously back at her, but Emma was already braced for a fight. "What are you doing here?"

"You gave me a spare key."

"Right. That's not what I meant. What are you doing near here?"

"I…" Regina started, exhaling heavily. She looked down at where Emma was still half tangled in her green sweater. "Well. It's going to sound stupid."

Emma was too tired to reply with everything you say sounds stupid, so instead she just shrugged and waited.

Regina hesitated before saying, "I didn't get the chance to give you a hug last night."

"Sorry?"

She recognised the faint look of embarrassment on Regina's face before she clarified, "You were upset, and I let you go without…"

Emma's arms went limp by her sides. "You drove all the way here at 8:30am just to give me a hug?"

The second Regina nodded, Emma disentangled herself from her sweater and tossed it to the floor. Regina opened her arms, and she fell into them with a sigh of relief.

"I thought you were here to yell at me," she mumbled after a few moments. Regina's soft laughter against her ear warmed her all over.

"I don't tend to make appointments for that."

When they pulled apart, Emma felt just as exhausted and worried as before, but at least her heart wasn't hurting so badly. "I really am sorry for being such a dick last night."

"Don't worry about it. I'm used to it by now."

Emma rolled her eyes. "That's really nice."

"Consider it payback." Regina suddenly lifted her hand and cupped Emma's face. She considered her carefully for a moment, her dark gaze taking in every one of Emma's pale features before she said, "I'm going to fix this, Em."

She didn't believe her, but Emma nodded anyway. "I know."

"No, you don't. You think I'm going to go rushing in like a bull and make everything worse. But I'm not – I'm going to think about this properly and I'm going to ever so gently remove both of them from our lives forever. I promise."

The fact that Emma's existence was naturally tangled together with Regina's in that sentence made her chest hurt all over again. Regina saw her expression drop.

After a beat, she pulled her hand away. "Why did you ask me if I was going to tell you to leave again?"

And just like that, Emma had been handed the opportunity to have the conversation she'd been putting off for weeks. Regina was watching her with a concerned expression, her arms were still open and she was ready for whatever she might have to say. It was the best chance she'd been given yet.

But then Emma glanced at the clock and sighed. "I'm really late for work."

"Oh," Regina said, her face visibly disappointed. "But…"

"Sorry. There's just… there's a lot going on and it's not the right time. But I'm okay."

She wasn't. They both knew that. But Regina nodded anyway. "Alright. Can I drive you to the office, then?"

"Please."

When they left the apartment together, Emma wasn't sure whether to feel better or not. The Neal issue was still weighing on her and the fact that she'd chickened out of asking Regina about their future wasn't helping, but the mere fact that she was there beside her somehow made things feel less frightening. It was a small reassurance, but it was enough.

As they headed down the stairs, Emma reached out for Regina's hand. Regina held it tight, and she didn't let go.

"This," the voice bellowed from across the office as soon as Emma arrived at her desk, "is not on time."

Emma didn't even look up as she replied sweetly, "Did your assistant forget to bring you your Xanax again? I never would have done that. You must be missing me."

She heard Ingrid huff from several feet away. "The new girl is useless."

"You say that about everyone."

"Yes. Including you."

"And yet I managed to survive nearly three years under you. I can't be that useless."

When Emma looked up, Ingrid was standing directly in front of her desk, her arms folded and her face sour. "I still don't understand why Violet went off to college when she had a perfectly good job here. I've had four different assistants since then and I swear they're getting worse each time."

"If you want me back, all you have to do is ask."

"And you'll say no."

Emma grinned. "I know. But I love to hear you beg."

Ingrid rolled her eyes and perched on the edge of her desk. "Why are you late again?"

"Because that's who I am as a person."

"Emma," she said warningly. "I shouldn't have to keep reminding you that just because you don't work directly for me anymore, I am still your boss. You do know what editor-in-chief means, don't you?"

"It rings a bell," Emma said, then sighed. "Sorry. It's been a weird morning."

"Girlfriend troubles?"

"It's not always girlfriend troubles," Emma protested. She thought about Neal again and shuddered. "Regina's just fine."

Mentioning her by name was always a sure-fire way of getting herself out of trouble. At once, Ingrid leaned forward with an excitable glint in her eye. "Have you been to any good events recently?"

"We went to one last night. It was bad," Emma added before Ingrid could ask who was there and what Regina had been wearing. "But Regina's doing her quarterly gallery opening in a few weeks. I can put you on the list."

"Scoring me invites to your girlfriend's fancy parties isn't going to stop me noticing your tardiness," Ingrid said coldly. Then she paused. "Get me a plus one. I'm seeing someone new and I want to impress him."

Emma laughed. "Sure thing, boss."

Half a second later, Emma's other boss came rushing round the corner. Belle was infinitely more relaxed than Ingrid had ever been, but she always seemed to be running and was never seen without a stack of books clutched against her chest. Right then, when she saw Emma and their editor-in-chief happily chatting at her desk, she dropped two of them.

"Sorry," she squeaked in the delicious Australian accent that Emma had sort of been lusting over for the past year. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"You're not – I was just reminding Emma that the work day starts at 9, not 9:20, and Starbucks having a long line is not a valid excuse," Ingrid said, hopping off the edge of the desk. "Belle, we have a conference call with that awful illustrator at 12."

"I remember. Emma's sitting in."

"Good," Ingrid said, sweeping toward her office without another word. As the door clicked shut behind her, Belle breathed out a sigh of relief.

"I'm always on edge when she's around."

"I remember that feeling ever so fondly," Emma said, sorting through some papers on her desk. "Then I started being rude to her instead and it worked out pretty well for me."

Another voice joined them. "That's how we became friends, too. As soon as Emma starts bullying you, you're in."

Emma swivelled in her chair and gently punched Elsa's arm. "Where have you been hiding?"

"Under a mountain of work. Although," Elsa said, eyeing Emma's own treacherous desk. "Maybe not as mountainous as yours."

"Yeah, well. There's a lot going on."

"Emma's taken the lead on all three books that are going to print next month," Belle interjected proudly. "The day you came over to our team was the day my life got a whole lot easier."

"That's the first time anyone's ever said that about Em," Elsa said as Belle walked off. She grabbed the nearest empty chair and pulled it closer to Emma's. "How did last night go?"

Emma grimaced. "Not great."

"What happened?"

She thought about Neal again and swallowed down the metallic taste in her mouth. "It was just… I don't know. Not very interesting and the people were annoying."

"Aren't they always?"

"I guess."

"Does that mean you didn't manage to ask Regina about the moving-in thing?"

"No," Emma sighed. "I did try, but then we got distracted and… I don't know, the timing wasn't right."

"Distracted by what?"

Emma could feel her pulse starting to quicken, so instead of going into any more detail about what had gone down the previous evening, she asked, "I don't know. Art stuff. How's August?"

It always worked as a way of distracting Elsa. "He's great. Last night we finally finished painting the guest room."

"Haven't you been living there for six months?"

"Yeah, but August dumped all his guitars in there the day we moved in and I haven't been able to get in since."

Emma smiled, wondering what it would be like if that was her biggest problem in life. "I'll have to come round and see it."

"You will – dinner next week?"

"Sure," Emma said, watching as Elsa hopped up and made her way back to her own desk with a wave. "Can't wait."

"You didn't have to come, you know."

Emma glanced up from her phone. Regina had been bouncing around on her side of the car ever since she'd collected her, and the constant movement was starting to make her feel dizzy. "What?"

"Tonight," Regina clarified, nodding in the direction they were driving. "I wouldn't have minded if you'd wanted to stay at home."

She was trying to avoid saying the words: Neal will probably be there. I don't want you to run into him.

Emma just shrugged. "I know. But I haven't seen you much this week. I wanted to hang out."

It was the truth, and the fact that her words instantly made Regina stop fidgeting made her stupid decision worth it. She knew Neal would be there – he'd probably be at 90 percent of the events they went to in future since most of them involved free booze – but Emma wasn't going to suddenly stop going to them because of him. Her stomach had been in a tangle all day and more than once she'd thought about calling Regina and telling her she couldn't make it after all, but in the end her stubbornness had won out. If this was a fight, then she was determined to win it.

"Well, I'm happy you're here," Regina said, squeezing her hand. "I've been worried about you this week."

"Why?"

"Because I know when you're stressed, and I don't like not being able to help." She paused before she repeated her promise from earlier that week. "I'm going to fix it, though."

Emma squeezed back halfheartedly. "Thanks."

"You don't believe me?"

"It's not that I don't believe you. I just know what guys like Neal – and Gold – are like and I don't think you should underestimate them. Don't go steaming in trying to ruffle feathers if it'll just end up damaging your business."

"You're worried about my business right now?"

"Not worried, but it's a lot more important than my feelings are."

Regina's soft, sad face nearly broke her heart. "Of course it's not."

"Just, please, don't do anything dumb. Okay?"

Regina frowned. "I'll do my best. But I'm going to look after you, and if either of them comes within 15 feet of you, I'll set off a bunch of fireworks in Gold's gallery."

Emma laughed and squeezed her hand harder. "I love you."

"I love you too. Now, don't give me any of those disgusting crab cakes again unless I ask for them."

The second they stepped into the gallery, they were caught up by a group of art dealers who wanted to compliment Regina until their faces turned purple. Emma stayed by her elbow, nodding politely when really her attention was firmly elsewhere.

It only took a few minutes before she spotted him.

She automatically wanted to reach for Regina's hand, but she stopped herself. When Neal spotted her and grinned, her entire body shuddered.

Regina noticed at once. "What?"

"Hm?"

"Why did you just go all tense?" Regina asked, carefully lowering her voice so the people around them wouldn't overhear. She was wearing her highest heels that evening – the ones that took her two inches above Emma's height and made her look like the toughest woman in the whole world – and a short black dress that cut into her waist like a blade. On any other night, Emma wouldn't have been able to keep her hands off her. Right at that second, though, she wanted to wither away and head for the door.

"I shivered."

It was a lame excuse and Regina was smarter than that. After a second, she lifted her gaze and directed it across the room.

She spotted Neal instantly. He was talking to someone else, and the cocky grin on his face had settled like oil.

"Oh," Regina said at once. Her expression had darkened. She turned back to the rest of their group. "Excuse me for a second."

She pushed right through them and began striding across the room. With a yelp, Emma darted after her and grabbed her wrist. "Regina!"

"What?"

"You can't start a fight in here."

"Why not? That's exactly what you used to do."

"Ha ha," Emma said flatly, pulling Regina harder when she realised she wasn't stopping. "Please. Think for a second."

"I am thinking. I'm thinking about how he's wandering around here with that stupid smug expression on his face and someone needs to go over and slap it off."

Her rage was almost overwhelming, and part of Emma wanted to shrink back from it. Instead, she heard herself blurting out the question she'd been avoiding since the day she'd run out of Neal's studio. "Why do you believe me?"

That, at least, made Regina stop walking. She turned to look at her with her forehead crumpled. "Sorry?"

"When I told you what he did, you didn't even question it," Emma said, twisting her hands together. "You barely know any of the details but you believe me anyway. Why?"

Regina looked at her like she was totally insane. "You didn't make it up, did you?"

"No."

"Then why wouldn't I?"

"I don't know. In situations like these… most people don't believe the woman."

Regina snorted. "Well, luckily for you, I've never been most people. There was something I didn't like about that slimy oaf the second I saw him trying to make a move on you on the roof of Gold's gallery, but even if none of that had happened, I'd still believe you. It's not a question."

That was the part Emma had had a hard time understanding. "But why?"

"I don't know," Regina said, suddenly pulling her close and grabbing her hand. "Because you have more faith in me than anyone else has ever had. It's not even a conscious decision for me to return the favour."

Emma smiled weakly. "Please don't go over to him."

"Emma," Regina sighed. "Someone has to say something."

"Maybe. But not you, and not now. Just… leave him alone. He wants us to be angry that he's here and if you go bulldozing over to him any time you see him then he'll think he's winning."

Stepping back with her arms folded over her chest, Regina scoffed. "Then what am I supposed to do?"

"I don't know. Just act normal."

"Normal?"

"Regina, please," Emma said, half sighing and half laughing at her incredulousness. "Let's just pretend things are okay. And, look, what he did was bad, but at least he didn't actually—"

"Stop," Regina interrupted, lifting one hand. "Do not try and defend him just because you managed to fight him off before he actually forced his way into your pants. I can't stand the image and if you try and play it down, I really will kill him."

Something about Regina's flat-toned sincerity made Emma feel slightly better. She nodded. "Sorry. You're right. I just… I don't know. He doesn't seem to think he did anything wrong."

"He wouldn't. He's a—"

"Regina!" a voice boomed from behind them. It was another dealer – one of the ones Regina actually tolerated – and he was beaming at her from beside a canvas that looked like it had been painted with hundreds of tiny toothpicks. "It's good to see you again."

Regina automatically glanced at Emma, who nodded. "Go ahead. Time to network."

Normally, even though everyone in the room knew they were together, Regina refrained from physical displays of affection. Emma didn't take it personally – this was a different world, and Regina had to appear in control at all times. She couldn't be backing her girlfriend up against the nearest wall when there was money to be made.

But right then, without a moment's hesitation, she reached forward to cup Emma's chin and gently kissed her. Emma's heart skipped, and then blissfully stopped.

"Don't get yourself into trouble," Regina said, her meaning all too evident. "Come and find me if you want to leave."

Emma couldn't help but smile. She knew people were looking at them – Regina dressed all in black with shoes spiky enough to kill a man, and Emma wearing a white shirt buttoned up to her throat tucked into pants that made her legs look a mile long. They always stood out, no matter where they went, but right then she suspected they might be glowing. The fire in Regina's eyes was bright enough to warm the entire room.

"Go," Emma replied. "I'll find you soon."

Regina nodded and reluctantly stepped away. The second she was lost in the crowd, Emma steeled herself for something to happen.

She couldn't see Neal right then, though. Instead, she spotted someone else.

In the far corner of the corner, standing entirely by herself and clutching what looked like a Fashion Nova purse, was a woman probably younger than Emma herself. She had similar hair to her – light blonde and slightly scraggly, like she couldn't afford a haircut – and Emma hated herself for knowing upon sight that the dress she was wearing didn't have a designer label. It was faded and too big, and the heels she was wearing with it didn't match.

She looked exactly like Emma had done at her first event. She suddenly realised why people had been so quick to stare.

Her heart tugged for this poor girl who was standing by herself looking like she'd wandered in by accident, and without thinking Emma found herself walking toward her. The girl didn't see her approaching, and when Emma appeared at her side, she jumped.

"Sorry," Emma said, reaching out to steady her. "I didn't mean to sneak up on you. I just wanted to say hi."

The girl looked at her with so much relief that Emma thought she might burst into tears. "Oh. That's… really nice of you."

"I'm Emma."

"Ashley," she replied, shaking Emma's hand. Her fingers were bony and clammy. "I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to be doing."

"Are you by yourself?"

"Sort of. I came as part of a group but I think he's taking it in turns to show each of us off."

Somehow, before she'd even asked the question, Emma knew who she was referring to. "Who's 'he'?"

"Mr Gold."

Emma shuddered. "Oh. Are you one of his artists?"

"Yeah. He signed a whole bunch of us recently and I think this is supposed to be my first outing. But everyone seems really rude and I'm not sure what I'm supposed to talk about."

Her honesty was a blessed relief in a room where everyone voted Republican and no one found it even the slightest bit morally reprehensible. "To be honest, that never gets any easier. It's been a while since I was the new kid, but I still have no idea what automatism is."

"You're an artist too?"

"Absolutely not," Emma said. Anyone else in the room would have recoiled with offence at that, but Ashley just laughed. "I'm a plus one. Virtually unimportant."

"You don't look unimportant," Ashley said awkwardly. She was eyeing Emma's clothes as she spoke. "I like your shirt."

"Thanks. Balmain."

Ashley blinked. "What does that mean?"

Emma felt herself blush. Over the past few years, she'd gotten so used to automatically reeling off the name of every designer she was wearing that she'd forgotten what it had been like to not know there was a difference between Emporio Armani and Armani Exchange.

"It's just the… never mind," she said. It was in that split second that she realised she'd become one of the people she'd been mocking for two years, and she hated herself for it. "So, you're signed to Gold. What made you choose him?"

"I didn't choose him."

"No?"

"No. I mean, he was at my grad show and he told me he was interested in signing me. He was the only person I spoke to, to be honest."

Emma frowned. "Wow. He must have offered you something pretty good."

"Well, a contract with a famous art dealer is amazing," Ashley said cheerfully. "I was just so honoured he approached me. I'm excited to be working with him."

It wasn't any of Emma's business – Ashley was working for the competition and, if anything, Emma should be steering well clear of her since she was probably signed at exactly the same time as Neal. But she still heard herself ask, "Is that normal?"

"What?"

"To sign with the first person who approaches you."

"It wasn't for me, was it, Swan Song?" The voice came from behind her, and instantly Emma's blood turned cold.

She forced a smile and turned around. "Neal."

"Good to see you again," he said, stepping forward like he was going to hug her. Emma stepped back, bumping into Ashley and nearly knocking her into the nearest canvas.

"Yeah," she said flatly. "Just great. Here to sniff out the canapés again, I see?"

"Or I'm sniffing out someone else," he replied. Emma shuddered. "How are you doing? You look great."

"I'm fine."

"How's Regina?"

"Also fine."

Neal glanced at Ashley before asking, "Why are you being weird?"

"Am I?" Emma asked, her voice deadpan. "I hadn't realised."

"Swan Song," he repeated the nickname she'd always hated. "Don't be like this."

"Don't be like what?"

"All snooty and cold. We used to be friends."

Rage suddenly burned from her toes up to the tight roots of her hair, and Emma had to bury her nails into the palms of her hands to stop herself from reaching out and smacking him.

"Neal," she said, trying to keep her voice level. "I'm going to say this as politely as I possibly can, because we're in a nice place and I don't want to damage the artwork by throwing you at it. But I would really, really appreciate it if you'd fuck off right now."

Both Neal and Ashley blinked at her. The fact that Neal even had the audacity left to be surprised by her hostility only made her fury worse.

Eventually he managed to school his features into something more relaxed. "God, okay. No need to be like that. I'll go."

But he didn't. He waited, obviously expecting Emma to say something to make him stay. When she just stared him down, her heart furiously rattling away inside her but her face perfectly resolute, he shrugged. "Same old Emma."

He walked off before she could question him on that. It felt like steam was rising from her skin.

It was only when she turned back around that she realised Ashley was still there. "Oh. Sorry about that."

"What was that about?" Ashley asked, her gaze darting across the room to where Neal was obviously still skulking away.

"Nothing. It's just a… We had a disagreement once. It's fine."

"Did you date?"

Emma nearly choked. "No. Not even at all."

"He's kind of cute," Ashley said thoughtfully, but before Emma could reach out and shake some sense into her, she noticed the shift in her expression: she'd gone from confused about the argument and yet sort of delighted to be part of it to looking over Emma's shoulder with anxiety creasing her forehead.

Emma turned and found Neal talking to Mr Gold, who was staring back at them with the cold expression that she'd always hated. When Emma met his gaze, he didn't look away or even blink. Neal kept chattering in his ear and Gold nodded once, but his icy blue eyes stayed on Emma until she eventually shuddered and turned away once more.

Ashley was still looking worried, so Emma forced a laugh and said, "You're a braver person than me agreeing to put up with him for the foreseeable future."

"Yeah," Ashley said slowly. Then, seemingly remembering that she was supposed to be overjoyed, she beamed. "Although I guess 10 years isn't that long."

"What?" Emma spluttered. "10 years?"

"What's wrong?"

"Is that how long your contract with him is?"

"Yeah," Ashley repeated. She frowned. "Is that bad?"

"I…" Emma stopped herself. The reality was, she didn't know – it sounded like a hell of a long time, but then again she still didn't know much about this stuff, no matter how much it felt like her entire head had been stuffed with acrylic paints. A decade-long contract might be a good thing.

She forced a smile. "To be honest, I have no idea. I'm sure you did your homework though, right? And Mr Gold is one of the best."

Ashley nodded. "Yeah. That's what he said too."

"That he's one of the best?"

"Well, he said he's the best there is."

"Ha," Emma said, shaking her head. "He sounds like Regina."

"Regina?" Ashley repeated. "Is that Regina Mills? He mentioned her."

"He did?"

"He said she's his competition. He warned me not to go near her because she's a snake."

Emma's smile tightened. "He would."

"Do you know her?"

"You could say that," Emma said, looking round and, as luck would have it, immediately spotting Regina on the other side of the gallery. Their eyes met, and Emma lifted a hand.

Ashley watched Regina wave back, her face warm to anyone who didn't recognise what she looked like when she was worried, and blinked. "Is that her?"

"Yep."

"Oh. She's not how I pictured her. You're friends?"

"Something like that," Emma said, then decided it was probably best to get the reveal over and done with because Gold could burrow any further into Ashley's brain. "We're together."

Ashley staggered sideways. "You two?"

"Yeah."

"As in, dating?"

"Yes, Ashley."

"Oh." Ashley's face had gone pink. "But you seem so nice."

Emma decided to ignore that comment. "Well, as soon as Gold gets you alone again, he'll tell you I'm a snake too. People round here shouldn't always be taken at face value – try to remember that, okay?"

Ashley nodded, her gaze straying toward where Gold and Neal were still talking. Emma looked up in time to see Neal's lecherous gaze skimming down Ashley's skinny body, and she shuddered.

"I mean it," Emma said more firmly. "Everyone's got an agenda, and everyone is looking to cash in on something. Look after yourself and don't get swept up by people if you have a bad feeling about them. It's important to trust your gut in here."

She waited for Ashley to ask who exactly she was supposed to have a bad feeling about, but instead she smiled. "You really are nice."

"Sort of. Mostly I just don't have anything to gain from tricking you."

Ashley laughed. "So you don't work for Regina?"

That question put a bad taste in Emma's mouth, but she forced a smile in return. "Nope. Well – not anymore."

It took far longer than Emma had been expecting for the questions to start. She'd been anticipating a bombardment the second she got into the car, but Regina stayed mostly silent until they reached the elevator in her apartment building.

"Who was that girl you were talking to all night?"

Emma looked over at her. "I was talking to lots of people."

"You know who I mean. The scruffy little blonde who looked like she'd just swum over from Alcatraz."

"Regina," Emma snapped. "She was wearing a cotton dress, not a burlap sack. Don't be such a snob."

"It's a little late for that," Regina muttered as they reached her floor. She stepped out first and pulled her keys out of her purse. Emma didn't have her own set yet.

When they walked inside, Emma shrugged off her jacket and hung it on her usual peg, which doubled as Henry's whenever he was round for the week. When he was there, his stuff took priority, and Emma's went in the kitchen.

"So?" Regina asked as Emma settled down on the couch and began to ease off her heeled boots. "Who was she?"

"Her name's Ashley. She's one of Gold's new recruits."

It was clear Regina had already guessed that much because she didn't even bother to spit with fury. "You shouldn't be talking to her, then."

"Why not? She only got signed a few weeks ago."

"Right around the same time as Mr Cassidy, I'll wager," Regina said, sitting beside her. "Did he bother you?"

"Of course he did," Emma replied, her throat tightening. "But I told him where he could go."

Regina reached out for Emma's knee and tapped her fingers against it. "You should have called me over."

"I don't need a security guard. I can look after myself."

"I'm aware of that, but I do enjoy keeping you safe. It makes me feel useful."

Emma laughed lightly. "Oh, because that's your only use in life?"

"Stop changing the subject. What were you talking to the girl about?"

"Regina, seriously? We were just chatting. She seemed nice and a bit lost and I remember being that person so I wanted to say hi."

Regina's nose wrinkled like that was the most distasteful thing she'd ever heard. "Was she grateful?"

"She was, yeah. She's quite sweet. I don't think she really knows what she's gotten herself into, though."

At once, she regretted saying that. Regina's ears perked up like a dog who'd just heard the treat jar being opened.

"Oh?" she asked. "What makes you say that?"

"I don't know. Gold was the first person to approach her and I think maybe she just got swept up by the whole thing. She's only just graduated."

"Of course," Regina suddenly seethed. "That was my idea two years ago – I was running around trying to find new, recently graduated artists to snap them up before anyone else found them, and now Gold's slithered in and is probably acting like this was all his idea. I bet he's badmouthing me to them all as well."

When Emma fell into an awkward silence, Regina threw her hands in the air. "I'm going to kill him. He's doing what I did except worse, because he's only signing rapists and teenage pickpocketers. Plus he thinks he can talk about me behind my back and I won't find out? Oh, he's got a nerve."

She was starting to ramble, so Emma squeezed her hand to try and lure her back to reality. "All you two ever do is bitch about the other. This is no different."

"It's different when he's signed the person who tried to—"

"I don't think Ashley's part of all that," Emma interrupted before Regina could go on another rant. "She seems a bit naive. I don't want this to be weird for you, but if I keep seeing her at events, I'm going to try and check she's okay."

Regina rolled her eyes. "Don't be so noble."

"I'm being nice. You should try it some time."

She wasn't surprised when Regina got up from the couch with a shake of her head. "You can babysit her if you want, but I wouldn't be shocked if Gold has already warned her off you. He's even sneakier than I am."

Emma laughed to herself as Regina began to walk toward the kitchen. Something about that final sentence made her jolt, though, and before Regina could leave the room Emma was calling out to her again.

"Hey, Regina?" she asked. "How long are your contracts with new artists?"

Regina turned with shock plastered all over her face. Emma couldn't really blame her – it was possibly the first art-related question she'd ever asked. "I beg your pardon?"

"I'm just curious. Is there an average length?"

Regina leaned against the doorframe and folded her arms. "It depends. If it's someone with name recognition then I might sign them for a few years – only if I'm certain that they're a money-maker. If it's someone brand new whose potential isn't clear yet, probably only a few months. Just enough time to show a full collection and see how many of their paintings will actually sell."

A few months. "Right. That makes sense." Emma paused. "Have you… Have you ever heard of someone being signed for 10 years?"

"What?" Regina spluttered. "Why would I sign someone for a full decade? Most artists change their style every two or three years. That would be impossibly stupid."

"Gotcha," Emma said, leaning back against the cushions. It had sounded a bit crazy when Ashley had told her – what if the artist was no good and never made a penny for the dealer? What if they wanted to quit six months down the line only to be trapped in the contract for nine more years?

Or what if they turned out to be better than anyone had ever imagined, but instead of being able to move onto another art dealer who can offer them what they deserve, they're stuck with the guy they lost their gallery virginity to until they're no longer relevant on their own?

Oh, Emma realised all at once. She grimaced.

Regina spotted the movement immediately. "What?"

"Nothing," Emma replied, although Regina was already advancing on her.

"Tell me."

"It's nothing. Really."

"You're a terrible liar, Miss Swan. Did someone ask you if I'd sign them?"

Emma groaned. "No. For once, this is nothing to do with you."

"Then it doesn't matter if you tell me, does it?"

"God, you're pushy," Emma huffed. "Fine. It's Ashley. She told me that's how long her contract with Gold is."

For a second, Regina looked like she was going to laugh. Emma could see her thought process ticking along: he's an idiot. He's backing himself into a corner by pouring money into people who might not have any potential.

But then she hesitated. "Did you see the contract?"

"Err – no. Do people normally carry those around with them?"

"No, but this little girl seems to be happy to spill every one of her trade secrets to you. I wouldn't be surprised if it was her phone wallpaper."

Emma rolled her eyes. "She's not a little girl, and she didn't tell me much else. Just that he was at her grad show, he was the first person who approached her, and she was excited to sign with him."

"Her grad show?" Regina asked. "Most colleges have their grad shows in June and July."

"So?"

"So, it's August. And she's already been signed for 10 years."

"Well," Emma said flatly. "I guess Gold's a fast mover."

Regina was looking at her in a way she remembered all too well: it was how she'd once considered her before she would mutter, "Go and talk to that artist over there. His contract with Moe is up soon, I hear. See if he's interested in signing with someone new."

It had always made her feel slightly important. Now it just made her feel dirty.

"You said you're planning to speak to her again?" Regina pressed, sitting back down beside her. Emma resisted the urge to slide away.

"Yeah. Probably."

"And you think she's harmless?"

"She's just hoping for her big break. I don't think she has a clue what Gold is really like."

"Mm," Regina purred, closing the gap between them and tucking a blonde curl behind Emma's ear. "You know – maybe you were right."

"About what?"

"About how it could be good for you to befriend her. Maybe she needs some support."

That wasn't why Regina was suggesting it at all. "Right. Support."

"Okay, fine," Regina conceded, looking Emma dead in her eyes. Her gaze was dark and smoky and, even then, made Emma go a little bit weak. "I'd like you to get to know her better."

"Why?"

"I need to find out what Gold's up to. He's insane, but he's not an idiot – if he's signing people for that long then there has to be something else in it for him. Beyond merely annoying me."

With a laugh, Emma said, "But I don't even come to that many events anymore."

"I know, and I'm not going to force you to go to any more. But if you came along and if Ashley was there and if you managed to strike up a conversation about the terms of her arrangement with Gold, I'd find a very interesting way to express my gratitude."

Just like that, Emma's heart dropped. No matter how tenderly Regina was touching her thigh or how tempting her words were, Emma could still read between them.

She looked around her at the apartment that she still hadn't been fully invited into and asked, "What would you do if I said no?"

Regina blinked. "Said no to what?"

"To helping you. What if I said I didn't want to do that stuff anymore?"

She couldn't bring herself to say 'your dirty work', but Regina instantly knew what she meant. Her face collapsed.

After a long pause, she tentatively said, "I wouldn't force you, if that's what you mean?"

Emma wondered if that was supposed to make her feel better.

"Right," she said, swallowing. "Things aren't… Things aren't back to how they were before, are they?"

"What do you mean?"

"Back at the start. When I just worked for you and had to talk to whoever you asked me to and—"

"Emma," Regina interrupted, lifting one hand. "Didn't I promise you I was going to fix the whole Neal mess?"

"Yeah."

"And didn't I say I'd do whatever I can to get Gold out of our lives too?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, I still plan to. I'm still trying to. But I can't do it alone and I need you to help me. Please. I wouldn't ask if I didn't really need you."

She had a point, and the fact that she'd said 'please' wasn't lost on Emma. She forced a smile and touched Regina's hand.

"Yeah. Sorry – you're right. Of course I'll help."

Regina's face brightened into a beam that usually made Emma's heart sing, but right then it didn't have the desired effect. It didn't matter what Regina said – a very large part of her still remembered what had happened the last time she had stopped being useful to her, and she wasn't sure she'd had enough time or therapy to stop feeling a little bit like a means to an end.

As if she'd heard that, Regina suddenly took hold of her chin and said, "You're very important to me, Emma. I'm not going anywhere."

Some kind of relief finally hit Emma in her chest. "Promise?"

"I promise."

"And can we…" Emma started, then took a deep breath. "When this is done, can we talk properly?"

Regina looked a bit bemused, but she nodded. "Of course we can, darling. We can talk about anything you want."

Emma had hoped Regina would say they could talk right then, but with another squeeze of her hand, she was getting up and walking into the kitchen. Emma was left on the sofa with her feet tucked beneath her, wondering whether she should still be worried, or whether this was just enough for now.