Joey just blinked at Tom like a deer in headlights.
Girl had zero experience with this tabloid nonsense, and honestly, she figured Tom had dealt with it a thousand times.
So she did what any sane person would do: asked the expert.
Except Tom was giving her the arctic shoulder, acting like he wasn't even in the mood to help. Truth is, he had no clue if the Will Smith rumors were legit or total trash.
Joey wasn't about to let that slide.
"It's straight-up slander," she said, dead serious. "I've been chased by paparazzi my whole career and never once had a dating scandal. So… should I put out a statement?"
Tom finally looked at her. His eyes were dark, unreadable, and his face was doing that rare brooding thing.
"Is it actually slander… or is it true?"
She threw her hands up. "Do you seriously think I'd hook up with a married man?"
Tom shrugged like he was bored. "How would I know?"
"It's NOT true," she shot back, cheeks getting hot.
He glanced away. "Then talk to your publicist."
Joey ruffled her hair, totally lost. "Yeah… guess I really stepped in it this time."
She started walking out, made it all the way to the elevator, then suddenly remembered something and bolted back.
Tom looked up from his desk. "What now?"
She scratched her palm nervously. "Look, I know Will's your boy. So even if you don't trust me, trust him. He's not that guy."
Tom's mouth twitched into the first real smile she'd seen from him in weeks. Soft, warm, the kind that used to make her stomach flip.
"Sooo you really care whether I think you two are a thing?" he teased.
Joey bit her lip. "He's your friend. I don't want you thinking your friend is a home-wrecker. Or that I'm a home-wrecker. Either way, it's bad."
"Noted." And just like that, the smile was gone. Back to the computer screen.
Joey finally left for real.
She speed-dialed Katherine on the way out.
Katherine was ice-cold calm. "Do NOTHING. No statement, no tweets, no 'sources close to Joey.' America loves to slut-shame women while giving dudes a free pass. One wrong word and it tanks your box office forever."
Joey laughed nervously. "It's literally fake news."
"Exactly. Stay quiet, keep a little distance, and it dies in two weeks. I'll handle everything."
"But… we're about to start shooting together!"
"I'll talk to Jada. Worst case, she posts some cute couple pics and shuts it down."
And that's exactly what happened.
Will posted a hilarious self-roast on Facebook basically calling the tabs clowns.
Jada dropped thirst-trap couple photos with captions like "My man & only ♥".
Every red carpet for the next month? Mr. and Mrs. Smith glued together, grinning like teenagers.
Then, out of nowhere, Joey's phone rang one night—Jada herself.
"Hey sweetie, I'm so sorry my husband working with you gave the tabloids something to twist. This has to be stressful."
"Are you kidding? I'm the one who's sorry!"
"Listen, we're having a private thing at the estate this weekend. I want you there. Let me show the world I adore you and there's zero weirdness. Cool?"
Joey could've cried. "More than cool. Thank you."
Two hours later Jada posted: "Can't wait for our little weekend get-together with some of our favorite people… including the ridiculously talented Joey Grant."
Internet lost its mind.
"Jada just adopted Joey."
"Either they're really innocent or Jada is the most chill wife on earth."
"Plot twist: this is all promo for their new movie."
Fast-forward one week.
Joey rolled up to the Smith estate looking like a million bucks.
First thing Jada did? Grabbed Joey, pulled Will over, snapped a selfie of the three of them laughing, and posted it immediately.
Caption: "Great athletes + great directors = magic. Let's go!!!"
Comments exploded.
"HOLY SHIT WILL IS DOING A JOEY GRANT MOVIE?!"
"Sports movie directed by the queen of pastel rom-coms? This I gotta see."
"LMAO good luck making a macho football movie in cotton-candy colors, babe."
"Calling it now—this is gonna be fire."
Rumor officially dead. New movie officially hyped.
Jada Smith for Wife of the Century.
At the party, Joey spotted Tom across the lawn (no surprise, he and Will go way back). She couldn't help tracking him with her eyes until he stepped outside to take a call.
She needed air anyway, so she wandered out… and found Tom pacing, pissed.
"Tell Sumner Redstone the deal was locked years ago," he snapped into the phone. "If he's got a problem, I'll see him in court."
Joey had never seen him this mad. The polished, perfect Tom Cruise was gone; this dude looked ready to throw hands.
She knew this story from her past life.
Mission: Impossible 3 underperformed, Tom still took his massive backend, Paramount made peanuts, and Sumner Redstone lost his damn mind. The fallout got ugly—Paramount blackballed Tom for years. 2006-2009 were rough. He didn't bounce back until the fat-suit cameo in Tropic Thunder and then MI4 in 2012.
Tom hung up, turned, and jumped a little when he saw her standing there.
"How long you been eavesdropping?" he asked, half-smiling despite the mood.
Joey grinned. "Long enough to know you're having a bad day. Also, watching you yell at billionaires is weirdly entertaining."
He gave her the fake "ha ha" smile. "Good to know you've added stalking to your résumé."
She stepped closer, eyes sparkling. "Hey Tom… I can see the future."
"Yeah?" He clearly wasn't in the mood for games.
"I see your favorite franchise stalled out for a couple years."
He snorted. "Tell me something I don't know."
"Everyone—including you—is gonna freak out, thinking you're done in this town."
His gaze slid over her face, slow, searching, waiting for the punchline.
Joey's smile turned huge and sunny. "But it's fine. It won't last long. You'll come roaring back bigger than ever."
Tom just stared at her for a long beat.
Then, so quietly she almost missed it:
"…You really believe that?"
"I know it," she said, like it was the simplest truth in the world.
For the first time all night, the tension in his shoulders eased. Just a little.