But a vampire story line? No one was going to be handing out Emmies for that.

“Yeah, well,” Shoshona said, narrowing her eyes at Meena, “Cheryl can cry me a river.”

Meena’s jaw dropped. This was the thanks she got for having saved Shoshona’s butt so many times with her late scripts?

Why had she even bothered?

“I love it,” Sy said, snapping his fingers. “Run it past your aunt and uncle. I gotta go, I’ve got a meeting.” He stood up.

“Sy,” Meena said. Her mouth felt dry.

“What?” He looked annoyed.

“Don’t…”

There were so many things she wanted to say. Felt as if she had to say. For the good of her soul. For the good of the show. For the good of the country as a whole.

Instead, she just said, “Don’t take Fifth. There’s congestion. I heard it on 1010 Wins. Have the cabbie take Park.”

Sy’s face relaxed. “Thanks, Harper,” he said. “Finally, something useful out of you.” Then he turned and left the room.

Meena swiveled her head to stare daggers at Shoshona.

Not because she was irritated that she’d just saved Sy’s life-if he took Fifth, his cab would, indeed, meet with congestion that would so irritate him, he’d get out and walk, causing him to jaywalk injudiciously at Forty-seventh and be struck by a Fresh Direct truck-and he wasn’t the least bit grateful, but because she knew what “Run it past it your aunt and uncle” meant.

It meant Shoshona had won.

“Vampires,” Meena said. “Real original, Metzenbaum.”

Shoshona stood up, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Get over it, Harper. They’re everywhere. You can’t escape them.”

She turned and walked out.

And for the first time, Meena noticed the gem-encrusted dragon on the side of Shoshona’s tote.

No. It couldn’t be.

But it was.

The Marc Jacobs tote Meena had secretly been lusting after for half a year but denying herself because it cost $5,000.