The Brutal Truth

by Lee Winter

  “Well.”

  “A calculating, icy, money-hungry bitch of a shark.”

  “Is that a yes or a no?”

  Maddie frowned. “Look, I don’t know what Elena wants from me, but—”

  “Elena wants someone fluent in kangaroo speak or whatever cultural mangling your people do down there, and she’d prefer someone she knows. And she told me to tell you the position gives you your fondest wish.”

  Maddie shook her head. “I’m going to regret asking this, aren’t I?” She rubbed her bleary eyes. “And what is this fondest wish?”

  There was a smug snicker. “A face-saving way to return home.”

  “Face-saving? I’d be going back as a PA, not a journalist! An assistant!” Maddie couldn’t believe her ears. “Oh, I get it…” So this was Elena’s revenge for not having the last word and for Maddie calling her a few choice names? Hiring her as her lackey. “She thinks I’m going to give up my career as a journalist to get down on my knees and kiss her a—”

  “Ugh! You would be her personal assistant, you idiot. That is hardly giving up anything. That’s a job with status. Surely even your feral, dingo-bred clan from Outer Bog Swamp have heard of Elena Bartell?”

  Maddie groaned at the pointlessness of arguing with Felicity Simmons. “Just give me a simple answer to this: why would she want to hire me?”

  “She said you’d ask that.”

  “And?”

  “It’s business.”

  Maddie ground her teeth. “Not for me it’s not.”

  “Suit yourself. You know I could find a truckload of PAs who would jump at this opportunity. But if you’d rather cling to the delusion you’re cut out for New York when you’re so miserable that even I can see it, and I have no interest in your life whatsoever, then I can’t stop you.”

  “Then why not get one of those truckload of PAs to do it?” Maddie said with a snarl. “Tell you what—if Elena Tiger Bitch Bartell wants me to be her personal assistant, she can damn well ask me herself.” She ended the call with a vicious stab of her finger. There.

  * * *

  An hour later, Maddie mustered the energy to go grocery shopping. She’d just made her way gingerly down the stairs of her apartment building, head thumping, when she spotted a shiny, black BMW slowly creeping up Humboldt Street towards her. Maddie watched it, wondering if the luxury vehicle was lost. Unless it was stopping by Bruno’s next door for a service?

  It pulled up, and a familiar driver stepped out.

  “Ms Grey?” Amir said.

  She looked at him. Then at the car. Then at him again. Her not entirely sober brain struggled to process what she was seeing.

  Finally, the back passenger window rolled down. Elena peered at her through dark sunglasses. “I’m a busy woman. Can we move this along?”

  “Move what along?”

  “I refuse to conduct business shouted across the street. Get in.”

  Amir walked to the opposite rear door and opened it, looking at her.

  Maddie hesitated, then sauntered around the car and slid inside.

  Amir closed the door and walked away.

  Maddie took in the smell of Elena’s familiar perfume, mingled with leather from the fancy seats. She looked down at herself, in torn jeans, an old T-shirt, and denim jacket. She folded her arms. “Yes?”

  “I understand you wished to discuss the terms of your new employment?”

  “No, I wanted to hear it from your lips—a personal invitation to be your assistant.”

  Elena regarded her. “You wish to go home. I’m paying. Isn’t that good enough?”

  “No. Come on, you fired me. And then I called you a bunch of insulting names, and now you’re offering me a job.”

  “Apparently. So?”

  “But why?”

  “Do you not want to go home?”

  Maddie blinked. Wasn’t that the million-dollar question? She did. More than anything. “Yes,” she admitted.

  “Then what is there left to discuss?”

  “I’ll be your PA, for God’s sake. Not a journalist.”

  “I am aware.”

  “Is this a screw you? Offering me a debasing job that has me satisfying your every whim?”

  Elena’s expression became withering. “Really? Is that what you think of me?”

  “Who knows how your mind works?” Maddie flicked invisible lint off her jeans. “You’re mystifying.”

  Eyes narrowing, Elena said, “Well, you appear to suffer from the same malady.”

  Maddie side eyed her. “So how long have you been circling the block, debating whether to get out and knock?”

  Elena gave a long-suffering sigh. “The job is yours. Take it or not. It’s up to you.”

  “Did you regret it? The things you said?”

  “They were all true.” Elena’s face hardened. “Every word.”

  Maddie regarded her, anger rising. “You booted me out the door like trash.”

  “I did no such thing.” Elena removed her sunglasses and leaned closer, examining her intently. “Honesty is essential to personal growth. I prefer the truth in all dealings, even if it’s the brutal truth, and you should too. Besides, I really did do you a favour.”

  “You actually believe that, don’t you?”

  “Of course I do.”

  Maddie licked her lips, anxious about asking her next question, but she couldn’t not. She had to know. “And what about us?”

  “Us?” Elena looked at her oddly. “You would be my assistant, Madeleine. I would be your boss. What ‘us’ could you possibly mean?”

  “So it’d be like New York never happened?” Maddie clarified. She fidgeted. “All the things between us…like, your firing me? Not to mention…um…everything else?” Our talks, she wanted to say. Our almost friendship. You always looking at me like you wanted to know more. All the times I watched you and couldn’t stop. The intriguing conversations, the intense moments, late at night with no one around. Missing you when you weren’t there. It couldn’t be so one sided. Could it? Could she just erase it like it never happened?

  Elena opened her mouth, lips pulling down as though about to say something cruel and dismissive. She closed it again. Her nostrils flared. “That would be for the best.”

  “Why choose me? I mean, you’ve made it clear you don’t even like me.”

  Elena glowered at her. She gripped Maddie’s hand, hard. “That was business. I could not have been clearer. You really must learn to separate the two.”

  Maddie studied her face, watching the small clenching of her jaw at odds with her impassive eyes, and wondered about all the things she wasn’t saying. Then she dropped her gaze to their connected fingers.

  Elena snapped her hand back as though startled to find she’d even touched her.

  Maddie considered her for a moment longer, then turned to stare out the window. “Simon’s leaving in three days,” she said quietly. “His visa’s expiring.”

  “Ah. The roommate.”

  “You know, he only got his internship here to hang out with me. Funny thing is, he loves it here more than me. Isn’t that ironic? I’m on a green card and could stay here indefinitely, but the guy who would kill to stay has to go. Anyway, it’ll be weird being in New York without him.”

  “He sounds like a good friend—one who might miss you a great deal if you didn’t return home with him.”

  “We’ve been inseparable since we met as kids.” Maddie murmured. She stared at the trees lining the street and the red brick of her apartment building. Elena was eerily accurate as always, although she doubted the woman cared much about the argument she’d just made. To Elena, invoking loyalty would probably be just a clever argument, a face-saving way for Maddie to say yes. So why did Elena even want Maddie to be her PA? It made no sense.

  This was all too hard, especially since Maddie wasn’t even remotely clear headed. She tried to sift through all the competing arguments in her fuzzy brain. She had come to appreciate Elena and enjoy her c
ompany, come to love the glimpses behind her mask, and the woman had suddenly squashed her like a bug. Hell, she’d even just admitted she had no regrets about doing it. On the other hand, Maddie wanted to go home. Desperately. It would be depressing being alone and jobless in New York. She remembered how isolated she had felt before Simon joined her. Maddie suppressed a shudder and turned to face Elena.

  “I’ll take your offer. For Simon,” she said. To hell she would confirm to Elena how pathetic she was, that she couldn’t cope with being alone in New York. Maddie shot her a steely look. “And you can call me your PA all you like, and I’ll do that job as best I can, but I’ll always be a journalist. And I will prove that to you. Just so you know that. Okay?”

  Elena regarded her evenly. She sniffed. “I’ll have Felicity process your paperwork.”

  BlogSpot: Aliens of New York

  By Maddie as Hell

  Goodbye, New York. Sorry I never understood you, as hard as I tried. We had our moments, didn’t we?

  Remember that laughing old woman outside Saks Fifth Avenue, who tried to hug everyone she passed and called them Sally? I’ve often wondered who Sally was. A lost daughter? An absent lover? It doesn’t matter; we all got to be Sally and have a hug that smelled of wet wool cardigan and nutmeg. I think that old woman’s life must be a delight, because everywhere she turns she finds exactly what she’s looking for.

  I wish that had been the case for me. I came to New York hoping for the Dream. I leave now, having lost a little of myself, found a little of myself, and learned some harsh truths about the mistake in assuming that everyone sees the world…and friendship…as I do.

  But no tears, New York. It’s not you; it’s me. I’ll pretend we were the best of friends, if anyone ever asks.

  And they will.

  CHAPTER 10

  Living the Dream (Take Two)

  Maddie brushed the sand off her knees, adjusted her beach towel, and leaned back on one arm. The stop-start, low rumble of traffic on Campbell Parade at Bondi faded away behind her, as she took in the curling sweep of blue water and about a hundred tanning sunbathers. Seagulls swooped overhead and skidded along the sand, eager for discarded bread crusts or chips.

  “They only had Coke Zero,” Simon said, appearing behind her and plopping the soda can into her lap. “I couldn’t be buggered going next door, so you’ll have to live.”

  “Thanks.” She cracked the tab, enjoying the satisfying hiss, and scrunched its bottom firmly in the soft white sand.

  Simon placed a fat parcel between them and dropped beside her. His long legs stretched out in front of him, toes sticking out from the brown leather of what Maddie liked to call his “Dad” sandals. He unwrapped the paper to expose a glorious tangle of fish and chips.

  Maddie swooned at the fish smell mingled with sea salt. “Oh yum! God, I’ve missed this. All of it.” She waved at the scene in front of her. “You know, I had no idea I was such a beach bunny until I was deprived of it.”

  “Really?” Simon plucked out a fat chip. “So is Bondi how you remember it? Or Sydney?” He squirted some tomato sauce onto the edge of the paper in a loud blurp.

  “Yep.” She dunked her chip in the sauce puddle. “I feel at peace here. Which is dumb when you think about how loud and busy Sydney is. I mean, temperature aside, it’s not that different from New York. But it feels like home.”

  “Mm.” Simon chewed slowly. “I loved New York. Something’s always happening. But you’re not a something-always-happening kinda girl, so I get it.”

  “Nope. But that’s not why. It’s just that it was like everything in New York was about ten degrees off kilter to what I’m used to. It felt just enough like here to fool me. I mean a city’s a city, right? But I was tense the whole time. I think my subconscious knew I was out of place, and it never let me forget it.”

  “I figured you were in a funk. You slept too much. No one can like being unconscious that much.”

  “Oh.” Maddie reached for another chip. “Well, I sleep fine now. So do you miss it?”

  “Of course I miss it. But I’ve got a new reason to stay here now.”

  “Ah yes, the infamous Caroline. A workplace romance.” Maddie elbowed him in the ribs. “You move fast. Is it serious?”

  “Not a clue. Playing it by ear. Although, I can’t wait for Mondays now. Seeing her again. It’s like reverse Mondayitis.” He broke off a chunk of fish and tossed it in his mouth. He chewed for a moment, then regarded her. “What about you? You going to get back with Rachel? She’s been sniffing around, you know, trying to find out when you’re going to be hanging with our old group again.”

  Maddie sighed. “Rachel and I had nothing in common but being gay and our journalism course. She also plans to be in the closet until the day every last member of her family is dead. And her family is huge. I’m not sure why we stuck it out as long as we did. She didn’t even write me over there.”

  “Huh.” Simon shrugged. “Okay, scratch the Rach. But we need to hook you up. You’ve been in the dumps for too long. Who do you like? What about your boss?”

  “My…what? Elena?”

  “Yeah, speaking of hot office romances, you and the tiger shark. Why not?”

  “She is a married woman! And straight!”

  “I notice you didn’t deny liking her. So, what’s the deal? Have I hit a nerve? You’re drooling over her now?”

  Maddie dug her next chip viciously into the sauce. “I do not drool over her.” She glared. “She fired my sorry ass, remember? There is no drooling.”

  He laughed. “You have the hottest boss in the history of bosses, but there is no drooling. Got it. Oh hey, let’s do the patented Simon Itani test.” He waggled a chip at her. “So, when you think about going into work next week and starting your new job, what’s it feel like not having seen her since New York? First reaction—go!”

  Maddie studied the crispy crumbs of the fish and prodded them with her finger. How does it feel? Like a soft fire. Like churning. Nerves and excitement. Like missing out on something close enough to taste. Honey and spices and temptation and… She frowned.

  “I feel pissed off,” Maddie lied. She didn’t meet his gaze. Simon was far too good at reading her. “It’s a reminder of how overqualified I am. Like my uni degree is withering away, turning to dust, while I’ll be fetching coffees and page proofs. I’m looking for another job, of course, but journo jobs are hard to come by. Fairfax and News Corp are both having another round of redundancies.”

  “Yeah?” He squinted at her. “Well, that sucks. Sorry, Mads. Geez, this topic’s a downer. Hey, wanna hear about my footy training? We’ve got a new player with the Penrith Roos. He’s a total joker. He took a bottle of Gatorade, a box of rubber bands, a pair of stockings, and…”

  Maddie let his voice fade out. Her mind drifted back to his question. Excitement rose up again. It was like a sick, thrilling tension. She’d always assumed it was nerves. New workplace and all. At the thought of Elena, her stomach clenched again, as if a nest of butterflies were partying in it. How long until they were in the same room again?

  She glanced at her watch and caught herself. Oh God. I really am counting down the hours until I see her again.

  * * *

  Day one of her new job as personal assistant, and Maddie was a mess. She’d tried on half a dozen outfits, not entirely sure what was required of her or how much she should change her look to accommodate the role. She was half tempted to rock up in her graveyard-shift outfit of jeans and a grunge T-shirt, but she was fairly sure Elena’s scathing rebuke wouldn’t be worth it.

  It was a little unsettling to realise how much Elena’s opinion mattered.

  She finally settled on wearing the uptight emo-librarian look Felicity favoured. That seemed like a safe bet.

  Induction from HR had been painless, and before long she’d settled into a desk side-on to and outside a glass office that bore Elena’s name.

  After getting her bearings, introducing herself to people, a
nd trying not to wonder where Elena was, she’d made a mental list. Three simple, achievable goals.

  First, she would become the perfect, professional assistant, one for whom New York had never happened and who did not engage in banter or share personal stories with a woman who had no heart. A woman whose opinion, Maddie decided, she should not care about one way or another.

  Second, she would prove to Elena that she was a journalist.

  And third, she would convince herself that seeing hints of Elena with her guard down no longer excited her. Because it would be Maddie’s undoing, seeing these glimpses. Signs Elena might be human after all.

  No, she absolutely wasn’t going to think about their almost friendship ever again. Because, as per point one, perfect, professional PAs did not do that.

  How hard could it really be to stick to that? Her destiny was in her own hands, after all. She could do this.

  Her best-laid plans were sorely tested the moment she glanced over at Elena’s open office door. She could smell her. Her perfume, mixed with the sharp scent of ink from proofs and a hint of chai tea. Elena wasn’t even in her office, but it felt as if she was just there. Watching her. Like always.

  Maddie frowned and distracted herself by sorting out her own desk, sliding pens into drawers, rattling a tray of paperclips.

  “What is this?”

  Maddie looked up to be met by Elena’s long, hard stare.

  “Who are you supposed to be?” Elena came around Maddie’s desk for a better look before pointing at the mid-thigh, grey skirt.

  “Your personal assistant.” Maddie hated the words the moment she said them. “It’s what Felicity wears.”

  “I see.” Elena’s lips pursed. “Well, if you must be a clone, try to at least emulate a professional whose look you actually like.”

  She stalked off. That became the sum total of all she’d said to Maddie all day. Any assignments for her arrived via email. The pings of the incoming messages were constant.

  Elena, ensconced in her office, looking as regal as a queen, never glanced up, never made eye contact, never said her name in that beautiful French way she used to, with the last e of Madeleine turned into an a.