Lisa

Two weeks after everything exploded and the world's still turning.

Threats, it turns out, don't have much of a bite when you pull out their fangs. Taehyung Ashford bluffed and bluffed, gave Jennie another week after she said "no deal," and insisted she'd change her mind. It's like he never knew her at all. Jennie doesn't turn course once she sets it.

That extra week gave Jennie time to reconvene with her lawyer and double down on the prenup. She told me that right after she'd asked for the separation, she hadn't cared if he walked away with more assets than originally intended. She'd just wanted out. Now she's ready to fight tooth and nail to make sure he doesn't get an extra red cent after what he pulled.

"But," she'd added, "the same's true for me. I don't want anything from him beyond what we've agreed. Nothing but my freedom." She gave me a bare-toothed grin before leaning in for a kiss. "And the satisfaction of being the bigger person."

"Cool." I tugged the sheets over us both. "Still thinking about suing for defamation?"

She gave me a hooded look. "No. I don't think it'd go very well if you lied under oath."

True. I'd have to swear nothing happened between Jennie and me until after she'd asked for the separation, which meant I'd have to lie about our elevator make-out session, and that's not something either of us are willing to do. Lying under oath is a pretty damn risky undertaking, with disastrous potential consequences.

Even more importantly: We don't want to start out this—whatever we're doing—with a lie.

The question of "whatever we're doing" is up in the air. After the week passed, Taehyung gave up on bluffing and told their friends his version of the truth. He expected the word would spread like wildfire through their social circle. So did Jennie. But, weirdly enough, it turns out their friends mostly liked Jennie more than they liked him and either said nothing or approached Jennie privately and asked for the facts.

Nobody really likes the facts, but it's better than what Taehyung was saying, which was that his wife's been cheating on him with women this whole time. In fact, if anything, it gives Jennie a chance to come out at her own speed, friend by friend, using a speech she and I drafted together.

"My relationship with Lisa didn't start until after I left Taehyung," she says every time. "There's never been another woman. But it's time to face a part of myself I've been denying for a long time. The truth is, I'm gay."

And then they ask questions and try to get her to talk about feelings, which she hates, but so far everyone's been pretty decent about it.

Even her parents. Kind of. Sort of.

Three days after we agreed to come out, I sat on the edge of Jennie's bed with her and held her hand while she stammered out the truth over the phone. She sounded so young I couldn't believe this was my icy, commanding boss.

I heard her mother's voice raise in agitation and her dad's pleading tones. I watched Jennie get paler until I was ready to take the phone away. But then everything got quiet, she closed her eyes, and her parents said some stuff I couldn't hear but that made her bite her lip.

"Thank you," she said thickly. "Thank you."

And that was all. She didn't give me the play-by-play, but the relief in her eyes told the whole story. It makes me wistful; would my father have been similarly cool if only I'd tried?

"I thought it would be the end of the world," she said later when we were flopped out and naked and sweaty. "I thought they'd hate me. That sounds melodramatic, I know. But I really thought…"

I stroked her hair. "And they don't hate you a bit."

She gave me a wondering look. "Not a bit. Dad even said he'd…he'd wondered once or twice. They're not ecstatic; don't get me wrong. I know they'd prefer for me to be happy with a husband. They think that's an easier way to live."

"It is in some ways." I curled a lock of her hair around my finger.

"Not the ways that matter." She shifted closer to me. "I thought everything in my life would be completely different."

I kissed the top of her head. "And it's not."

"It's not." Jennie turned her astonished look up to the ceiling. "Except that it's better."

The hardest part came from Sehun and Mark. Maybe that shouldn't have surprised me. After all, one complaint from me, and the firm could be in big trouble. They had to handle me with kid gloves, too, in case that made things worse.

I did my best to reassure them. I'd agreed to meet them without Jennie present so nobody could accuse her of manipulating me during the meeting, where I said, "It was my idea. Nobody made me do anything. You can take my statement if you want."

Mark and Sehun glanced at each other. Then Sehun gave me a thin smile and produced an intimidating-looking document, along with his Mont Blanc fountain pen. "That's the plan."

I read everything carefully and signed it. Basically, I can now get the pants sued off me if I ever try to go to the press or write a tell-all. No skin off my nose.

"And," Mark added, "we are no longer comfortable with your working directly for Jennie."

No shit they weren't. Nobody was. Jaemin and Yeji had already taken to looking at me with a mixture of awe and incredulity, as if I were a creature in the zoo. Monica didn't like to look at me at all. Turns out people either pity or scorn the assistant who sleeps with the boss—nobody respects her.

That was when Jennie wanted to dig in her heels. She didn't like being told who worked for her and who didn't. And she didn't want to lose me, "the best assistant I've ever had."

I had a feeling she didn't mean the efficient way I got her breakfast. She was afraid that if we weren't in each other's pockets night and day, I'd drift away, find somebody else. Like anyone else could sate the endless craving she instills in me.

"You're not losing me," I said. "Promise."

So I'm getting another job after all. A paid internship—I didn't know those still existed—with a friend of Mark's who works in environmental law. I start next week, and I'm already looking forward to the challenge. I know the news will follow me, and the situation's not ideal, but all in all, it's turning out to be better than our worst fears painted.

There are just two little flies in the ointment left: Marcus and Sana.

Today, I know Jennie's thinking about it, and steam is practically coming out of her ears as I sit in on what will be my last meeting with Krystal Jung. I'm pretty psyched about that since Ms. Jung's blinding color combinations give me a headache, and that's before you even touch on the questions of racism and animal cruelty.

Nevertheless, Ms. Jung is friendly enough throughout the meeting, pleased with the deal Jennie has wrangled for her. She's downright complimentary, in fact, although she keeps giving me sidelong glances that make me wonder if she's heard.

Meanwhile, Marcus sits at Jennie's left and stares at the table a lot. For her part, Sana has spent a lot of time taking meetings out of the office. They must have been so sure Jennie would fold to blackmail. They know we don't have anything concrete on them—not unless Taehyung squeals—but they know Jennie can make life painful for them, too. She's building a paper trail that will give her enough reason to fire both of them. Their days are numbered, and they know it. Revenge, she tells me, is most satisfying after you've stretched your victims on the rack a little first.

Toward the end of the meeting, Ms. Jung folds her hands on the table and says, "It's been a pleasure working with you, Jennie. I might as well admit it now—I'd been hoping I'd get Mark, but I'm satisfied by how everything's gone."

Jennie stares at Krystal, hiding her astonishment better than I probably am. She manages, "You wanted Mark?"

Ms. Jung holds up her hands quickly. "No offense, but he's got a whole heap of experience in these cases."

Jennie says carefully, "I was under another impression."

Now Ms. Jung is the one who's clearly confused. "You were? What impression?"

"I thought…" Jennie glances at Marcus. The back of his neck is red.

"It's been a pleasure working with you, too, Krystal," he says. He stands up and gathers his file folders. "I'm glad everything is satisfactory. I'll get to work on these loose ends."

"You do that," Jennie says acidly. Her fingernails curl into the table's edge.

When Marcus leaves, Ms. Jung frowns at Jennie. "What was that all about?"

Jennie shakes her head. "A misunderstanding. Never mind. I'm also glad we were able to resolve this."

"Well, that goes double for me. I've realized something." Ms. Jung sighs heavily. "I can't afford any more bad press. Not if I don't want Havelin Beauty to eat my lunch. As if they can complain—with all their palm oil! Where's everyone who's always getting mad about the rainforests? But all the same, it looks bad for me." She drums her fingernails on the table. "Besides, I toured the facilities for myself. I hadn't done that in a while."

I find myself leaning forward, invested in the fate of bunny rabbits once again.

Ms. Jung clears her throat and waves a hand. Her golden bracelets jangle. "Anyway, Miss Kiss Cosmetics will be moving to a model without animal testing. My PR firm is working on the press release. I expect that'll get me some breathing room. Jennie, I swear, it's tough being a woman running a business."

The stunned look on Jennie's face fades instantly, replaced with a familiar, dry expression. "I'm well aware."

"Yes. You would be, wouldn't you? There's all sorts of things men get to do, and we don't."

Ms. Jung's gaze lights squarely on me. My shoulders go up so straight I'd have given away everything, except she obviously already knows.

Jennie's breath catches, which only makes it worse.

Ms. Jung turns her penetrating look on Jennie. "I'd already guessed, you know. I have excellent, what is it called—gaydar."

Jennie makes a soft, strangled sound.

"My niece, you know, the lesbian? I knew since she was little." Ms. Jung is apparently oblivious that she's got two deer in the headlights. "You remind me of her, Jennie. I swear she's a born lawyer, too. Destined for greatness. I'll have to introduce y'all. But anyway…" Her gaze slides back to me, and she raises her two penciled-in eyebrows. "This one's no dummy. You could both do a lot worse."

Jennie appears incapable of speech. I better step up to the plate. I open my mouth to do so and say, "Um."

Ms. Jung stands up, hefting her enormous python handbag. "No thanks necessary. I wish you both well, and all that. I'd better get back to work."

"Yes," Jennie says faintly.

"Us, too," I agree.

"No rest for the wicked, as my grandma said. Honestly"—Ms. Jung glares at us both in mighty exasperation—"what have the rainforests ever done for me?"

And she's out the door, leaving Jennie and me glued to our seats.

Jennie turns to me with wide eyes. Then her lips curve into a smile.

I feel myself grin. "My grandma would have had something to say about her, too."

"I can imagine."

"What was up with that stuff about Mark?" I add. "Why'd you look at Marcus?"

Jennie's expression instantly sours. "Marcus was the one who implied that Krystal had objections to Mark's race."

"Why would he imply that?"

"Because he wanted to work on the case, and he works with me, not Mark." She narrows her eyes. "And now he's waiting for me to bring hell down on his head."

"Well…you will, right?" Slandering a major client to the boss seems like a pretty big fucking deal.

"I will. Him, and Sana for screwing up the case in the first place. I wonder if she did it on purpose? If he suggested…" Jennie shakes her head. "I suppose it doesn't matter. They'll both be running scared, and scared people make rash decisions."

I feel the lurch of dread in my stomach. "Like what?"

"Like doing more than letting the talk make its rounds. Dropping a tidbit to some gossip blogs, or even the press. Turning this into a real story."

"You'll crush them." I say this with certainty.

"Yes, after I give them just enough rope to hang themselves. Then they'll never work in this town again, as they say." She tilts her head to the side. "How are you holding up? Are you all right with this?"

The question is sincere. I've always known that if I expressed even the tiniest bit of hesitation, Jennie would do anything she could to mitigate the damage to me, even if I'm just as responsible for this situation as she is. Being protected feels good, as does protecting someone as best I can.

"I'm all right," I say. "More than."

"Not even a little hungry? It's nearly six, and we worked through lunch."

That wasn't what I'd expected her to say. I look at her blankly.

I get a patented Jennie Kim flat stare in return. "I'm asking," she says, overenunciating, "if you would like to go to dinner."

A lightning bolt shoots through me. Dinner. Jennie wants to take me to dinner. In public.

In practice, it's not likely to be a big deal. Just two women having dinner—Jennie and I aren't going to make out in full view of the restaurant or something. In other ways, it's almost as big a deal as coming out to her parents. What's next, making it social-media official?

Slow down, I tell myself. There's a shit ton of obstacles in front of you, some you know and some you probably haven't even thought of yet, and right now you have a chance to say just what you want to say.

"I say yes," I tell Jennie, looking her right in the eye. "I'd love to."

Jennie never grins. But when her lips twitch and her dark eyes sparkle, I feel as if I've been given the most precious gift on earth.

Maybe I have. It came in the most unexpected packaging I've ever seen, but maybe this crazy situation I find myself is just what I needed most.

The universe has a funny way of doing that sometimes, I'm told.