by Lee Winter
“As part of the deal,” Elena said, “I would introduce you to the key movers and shakers there and explain all the ways I have found you to be acceptable. Further,” she pulled the page back and wrote another line, “access to Perry’s style expertise and his contacts should you need a dress or four. I can’t have you looking like a sad garage-band reject while at my side.” Elena’s lips quirked the faintest bit.
“God forbid,” Maddie murmured, amazed Elena had even thought of that. She studied the impressive list and slid her eyes back to Elena. “But you wouldn’t mind? Having me as your… guest?”
Elena just looked at her as though she’d said the stupidest thing she’d ever heard.
“Right.” Maddie’s cheeks heated. “Can you give me a few minutes to think about it?”
“Of course,” Elena said with an approving nod. “Take the time you need. I have to check on some things. And I’ll print out the contract Felicity has emailed me, should you decide in Style’s favour.”
She swept out of the room, and Maddie watched her sway of hips with a sudden sinking feeling. She tried to pinpoint why she felt deflated. This was an amazing deal. A career-changing one. Elena wasn’t wrong—it was far and above anything Style Sydney normally paid. Maddie knew, because she’d filed plenty of contracts for her boss.
Elena was also putting a huge amount of faith in her. She hadn’t even heard the Véronique interview. She hadn’t seen Maddie’s writing beyond the short news pieces that Hudson Metro had run. This would be a feature story—two of them, actually—and together they were almost a hundred times longer than anything she’d ever written before. Yet Elena hadn’t questioned that. She’d just assumed Maddie could pull this off. Why?
Maddie slid off her chair and took her plate to the sink, washing it. A click, click noise caught her attention. She glanced down to find a pair of big, brown canine eyes staring up at her.
“So,” she turned off the tap and crouched to greet the knee-high dog, “you must be Oscar.” She allowed him to sniff her with his long muzzle, as she studied his lean features. Then she ruffled his red, pointed ears. Oscar’s tail began to thump.
“You’re beautiful,” she told him, then leaned forward to whisper, “just like your owner. But don’t tell her I said that. It might undermine my negotiating position. Okay? I gotta have some authority here. So mum’s the word.”
The animal snuffled, then licked her hand.
Maddie smiled, deciding she liked him. Oscar had a certain poise, too, which was down to the Cirneco dell’Etnas pedigree. She had looked up the breed the first time she’d had to book him into a vet. It was a rabbit-hunting dog from Sicily. Trust Elena to have an animal even more complicated than she was.
“Yep, you’re all class and elegance, aren’t you boy? Gorgeous.” Maddie gave him another firm scratch, which made him arch his neck over more, seeking extra attention. “I bet you and your mistress look stunning out walking together.”
Her heart clenched at the words, and a flash of sadness seared through her. She frowned.
What on earth was bumming her out?
Maddie returned to her bar stool and fished out her phone, thumbing her way through the photos of Véronique and Natalii. When she’d snapped them, she’d never thought her day would end like this. And then it hit her: This was goodbye. Elena had virtually said as much in every look and word since they’d entered her home. And the clause allowing her access to Perry? That would be unnecessary to include if Maddie still worked at Style Sydney.
She felt a warmth on her thigh and glanced down to find Oscar’s handsome head resting there. Maddie ran her fingers through his fur, scratching behind his ear, and sighed. She was going to really miss Elena.
A noise broke her musing, and she looked up to see the woman at the heart of her thoughts leaning against the door frame, studying her.
“So,” she said, “you’ve just worked it out, haven’t you? I did earlier. In the car.”
“Elena?”
“Tonight, I came to see you with one purpose—to get you back to my side, where I thought you belonged. And then I realised it was too late. You were gone the second you got the first quote out of the world’s most reclusive designer.”
Belonged? Elena thought Maddie belonged with her? Hope warred with regret. Elena didn’t mean it like that, but still…
“I don’t have to go.” Maddie scrambled to ground her thoughts. “I mean, I have options now, yes. But, I mean, I could…”
“Madeleine,” Elena said, tone stern, “we agreed to no lies. Why did you become my assistant in the first place? And don’t tell me it was for my excellent company and superb people skills.”
“I wanted to come home.”
“Yes, I’m well aware. But why else? Because they do have flights rather often between New York and Sydney.”
“It’s like you said, it was a face-saving way to do it,” Maddie admitted. “And it looks good on the résumé saying I’m your personal assistant.”
“Madeleine.” Elena’s voice brooked no arguments…or lies.
“Okay.” Maddie exhaled. “I also hoped you’d write me a nice reference. I know it was wishful thinking, since you rarely do, but…once upon a time we were almost friends. And I thought if you didn’t entirely hate me when we parted ways, you might write me one.”
“Of course,” Elena said with a nod. “All my PAs have that vain hope. But why? Why did you want my reference?”
“To get a job anywhere in journalism I wanted. Your name has that power. A reference from you could open so many doors.”
“Exactly.” Elena gave her a triumphant look. “Congratulations, Madeleine. You are the first employee I have ever said this to—you don’t need my recommendation, and you don’t need me.”
A denial coated Maddie’s tongue, but she held it back as she thought about what Elena had said. Was she right? Well. Yes. Maddie had already “gone”. Who writes a world exclusive, then goes back to being an assistant?
The realisation was sharp and awful. She’d wanted another journalism job, sure; that had always been the plan, but she hadn’t even been looking. Because the thought of no longer seeing Elena filled her with pain. Whatever happened next, this would all soon be over.
“Yes,” Elena said quietly. “Now you see.”
Maddie didn’t reply. It now felt so real. Leaving Elena. She ran her fingers through Oscar’s fur, as she thought about that.
Elena’s gaze tracked to below the kitchen island, to her dog which Maddie had somehow appropriated. “Well. I see I’m not the only one who appreciates your charms.”
Maddie tried to smile, but her sadness was overwhelming. No more Elena.
Oscar lost interest, slid his head off her thigh, and padded out of the kitchen.
Placing some paperwork and a pen in front of Maddie, Elena said, “Feel free to get a lawyer to look those over. I advise you not to take too long. We have only twenty-four hours to redo twelve pages of Style magazines all around the world. The more time we have, the better. And I won’t lie to you: it will be a brutal twenty-four hours.”
Maddie looked at the paperwork. She’d seen it before. Quite often in her PA job. It was a standard two-page freelancer contract. Everyone signed them. They were fair, or so the writers would often tell her when she’d gotten to talking to them. Fairer than a lot of publications, they told her.
Maddie read the contract in detail and turned to the back page. There, in Elena’s florid handwriting, were the words: Madeleine Grey has final right of approval on the last draft of her story.
Maddie picked up the pen.
“Are you sure?” Elena asked. Something about the way she said it made Maddie pause and really look at her. Excitement flashed in her eyes. Hunger. She’d seen that before in her boss. Every time she nailed down some big business deal, Elena glowed. But there was something else, too. A faint hint of…regret? Was it possible her demanding boss would also miss her a little?
Maddie remembered
the odd frisson they sometimes had in New York. She’d sometimes catch a head tilt and a directed gaze that made Maddie’s stomach feel so odd. She’d felt Elena’s gaze on her in Sydney, too, more fleeting and guarded, not the way it had been. Not as it was right now. Right now, Elena’s eyes seemed to bore into her—fascinated, alert, and encompassing. Waiting. Watching.
I’ll miss you, too.
Maddie gave herself a mental shake. She was obviously imagining things. Of course she was. Why would Elena miss a lowly assistant? Especially one she’d fired fifteen hours ago while in complete bitch mode. Not to mention one she’d fired a few months before that. No, Elena Bartell would miss nothing but efficiently delivered chai lattes.
Non-fat milk, no sugar, extra hot, her brain supplied helpfully.
She almost laughed out loud, feeling slightly hysterical. Instead Maddie looked down, scanned the contract again. Nodded once.
And signed.
CHAPTER 20
Cheers
A celebration was in order. Elena cracked a rare and stunning bottle of claret, the likes of which had never danced across Maddie’s palate before.
“God, this is delicious,” Maddie said. “I think you may have put me off wine for life because it’ll never be this good again.”
Elena smiled. “Well then, I have done you a disservice. A good wine is like a good story—you have to be hoping for an even better one just around the corner. I’d hate for you to give up, now you’ve had a taste of it.”
Maddie appreciated the conspiratorial purr to her tone. The intimacy of it reminded Maddie of their conversations back in New York. When Elena was relaxed, she would shoot her an interested look, as though she had all the time to discuss anything in the world. And right now, Elena seemed to want to discuss Maddie.
It was a heady feeling, being in the laser-like glare of Elena Bartell’s focus. Part of Maddie wished they could stay frozen in this moment forever. Would this be their last real conversation? Maddie’s only chance to connect with her, away from some party or event, before they never spoke again? Her heart gave a pained clench.
Maddie’s voice was warm and low as she replied, “We’re not still talking about wine, are we?”
“No.” Elena smiled and swirled her wine around her glass. “I trust you’ll keep striving to be a better journalist, despite starting your career with an international exclusive.”
“Of course.” Maddie grinned. “This is only the start.”
“So, will you tell me how you did it? What did you ask to make her open up like that?”
“Truthfully?” Maddie gave her a small smile. “I’d only been allowed one question.”
Elena stopped swirling her wine and stared at her. “You are joking. You got all of that with one question?”
“Well, most of it, but yeah.”
“One question.”
Maddie opened her mouth to tell her what it was, but Elena held up a silencing finger and looked thoughtful. After a minute she sighed. “No. I can’t think of any single question that would elicit all that information from someone so private. So, I give up. What was the magical question?”
“I asked her to detail all the times and places she’d been proud of her daughter.”
Elena frowned. “I don’t follow. Why ask that?”
“Natalii told me her mother found it hard to admit when she was proud of her. So I saw it as an ice breaker, a way to keep the conversation going. If all else failed, at least Natalii and her mother could maybe break down some of the walls between them. It just seemed, well, right. Turns out, maternal pride can crack even the thickest walls.”
Elena examined her for a few moments. “Well. You do have a knack for finding people’s human spots, don’t you?”
“Human spots?” Maddie turned that over uncertainly. “You think I exploited their weaknesses?”
“On the contrary—you picked up on something unsaid and worked with it. Something they needed to deal with and, more importantly, wanted to talk about but didn’t know how. Understanding people is a skill. What makes them tick, what makes them talk. You have it.” She shot Maddie a rueful look. “I don’t.”
“I don’t know about that. You’re talking to me. I’m talking back. You’ve always been able to talk to me. I’d say you’ve nailed the whole make-casual-conversation brief.”
Elena didn’t smile. “It’s why I lost my promotion, you know. Years ago, at CQ. I was supposed to be the new editor. I was young and brash. I didn’t read the mood of the room, the executives of the board. Lecoq found my weaknesses—my age, arrogance, and lack of people skills—and hammered the CQ board with them. I always assumed my superior abilities would win the day. I said as much. I was destroyed. Lesson learned.”
“Their loss. It’s worked out better, though, right? You’ve proved them wrong now. And how.”
Elena’s eyes glittered for a moment. “Yes.” Her expression turned cool. “They know they were wrong. Not that they’d ever admit it.”
“Is that what you want? Them to say it?”
Reaching for the bottle of wine, Elena eyed the level and gave it a waggle. “I should get another.”
Maddie waited for her to answer the previous question.
“Do you want a refill?” Elena asked instead.
So, she was avoiding it, then. Touchy subject. “I’m good. We have a big day tomorrow.”
Excitement flared in Elena’s eyes. “Of course. You have achieved a remarkable coup.”
Her enthusiasm felt infectious. “Is this why you do it? For the rush? The thrill of signing the deal? Winning?”
“There’s no greater high in life.” Elena’s expression dared her to disagree.
Laughing, Maddie shook her head. The beautiful wine made her feel so relaxed. “I don’t know, I can think of one fun thing that’s a bigger high.” She gave her eyebrows a suggestive lift before she could stop herself.
Elena’s hand froze on the bottle where she’d been about to top up her wine glass. Her gaze slid over to Maddie’s. “Is that so?”
“Well, yeah. I mean come on!” Maddie started to laugh again. She petered out when Elena didn’t join in. “Wait, you don’t think so? You really don’t, do you?”
“No.” The word was as flat as her expression. She placed the wine bottle back on the table.
Maddie gave her a curious look. “But…” She stopped herself from saying something she couldn’t take back. Like, how could someone as amazing as Elena not have found even one decent partner who appreciated her enough to give her great sex? Hell, Maddie would be more than happy to volunteer. She took a hurried swig of wine at that stray thought.
“What?” Elena studied her.
“Look, either I’m doing career wins badly, or you’re doing sex wrong.”
“And which do you think it is?” Elena’s voice was low and smoky. “Specifically.”
“Uh…” All coherent thoughts fled as Maddie pictured…specifically…Elena having sex. Her creamy, perfect neck tilted back. Maddie’s throat constricted. “Well, to be fair, without trying both, I couldn’t possibly answer that.”
Her brain suddenly caught up to what she had inadvertently just proposed. Her cheeks flamed. “Oh! I didn’t mean to offer to…with you… I meant it’s like science.” A high-pitched laugh came out. “You know? You have to try each scenario to reach a sound conclusion…um…”
Elena gave a slow smile that caused Maddie’s toes to curl and her palms to sweat. This was so embarrassing. Propositioning, even accidentally, her straight, former boss?
“So,” Elena said in an amused drawl, reaching for the wine bottle again, “thanks for clearing that up. You sure you don’t want that top up?”
Maddie thrust out her glass instantly and nodded.
* * *
Maddie was trying to hide her growing exhaustion, but the day had been long and emotionally draining. It was just after midnight. She yawned for a third time.
“Stay,” Elena said. “Here. For the n
ight.”
“What?” She was fairly sure her ears had just lied to her.
“I have a guest room. And there is no way I am about to risk the scoop of my lifetime and yours to a random taxi or train.”
“Oh.” Of course. Guest room. Bed. “That makes sense.” She tried for a smile.
Elena nodded. “Good. I’ll show you the way. And if you get peckish in the night, you can help yourself to anything in the kitchen.”
“Thanks.”
Elena’s perfectly proportioned ass should be the subject of poetry, Maddie decided as she followed her up the stairs to the second level. It was so toned and undulated gloriously against her tight pants. Her brain went to a dreamy place.
“Here.” Elena snapped on a light and gestured. “En suite is through there.”
Maddie stared at a room that was like something in a five-star hotel. The wall facing the queen-sized bed contained a gleaming, integrated TV and stereo. Peaceful artworks, stylish fittings, and a lush carpet completed the luxurious picture. A person could stay in here for a week and never want to leave. She must have been making an odd face, because Elena paused.
“Is it not acceptable?” Her gaze took in the room. “Did you need something else? Extra blankets, pillows? The sheets are thousand-count Egyptian cotton, if that’s an issue.”
“No! It’s not, it’s… I mean, it’s…wow. I think the room’s bigger than half of my apartment.”
Elena smiled, and Maddie was struck by the softness to her eyes.
“Good,” Elena said. “Until the morning, then. Sleep well.” She closed the door behind her.
* * *
They proved to be famous last words. It was like a curse. Despite the lateness of the hour, Maddie found it impossible to fall asleep. Her mind was still whirring about the evening. Elena’s watchful, intense eyes. Maddie’s story. How to structure it, what to put in. Elena’s fingers, so long and supple as they grasped the stem of her glass. What to save for the next issue. Elena’s smile. She’d smiled a lot tonight, sometimes teasing, sometimes amused. It was probably just the wine. But it was overwhelming seeing her with her guard down.
