by Lee Winter
“Oh. My. God,” Felicity said, appearing at her side. “I didn’t believe him.”
Maddie turned to find Perry smirking and Felicity—looking elegant in a forest-green gown, her blonde hair elaborately piled high—eying her in shock.
“Believe what?” Maddie snatched a passing glass of juice off a tray.
“Nothing,” Felicity said in a mumble. “Forget it.”
Perry’s eyes danced with mirth. “I gave her a heads-up about how you’d look.”
Maddie gave an embarrassed laugh. “Ah, right. Thanks. I think.”
A flash of slicked, jet-black hair and pale skin caught Maddie’s eye, and all other thoughts emptied from her mind. “Oh.” Her voice was a reverent whisper. She turned and took in the full effect. “Wow.”
Elena was making her way towards them, nodding to various luminaries as she went, looking a vision in deep violet, her arms and shoulders bare, the dress caressing her every curve. Lucky dress.
It was only when Felicity nodded, seemingly without awareness she had, that Maddie realised she’d even made her breathy comment out loud.
Elena was twenty feet from them before she finally looked over and caught sight of Maddie. Her step slowed briefly before she continued. Cool, blue eyes raked her from hem to the top of her hair. Maddie felt as laid bare as she had the last time she’d seen her.
“Perry,” Elena said, giving him an air kiss. She turned and nodded. “Felicity.”
Her chief of staff nodded stiffly back.
Elena’s eyes fixed on Maddie and darkened. She stepped closer. “And Madeleine,” she said, tone pure socialite, “how nice to see you again”. Elena leaned in for an air kiss. The faintest dusting of lips made contact before she pulled back.
Maddie shivered at the touch. “You too.”
“How lovely you look in Alberta Ferretti.”
“Thanks.” Maddie tried not to get derailed as that all-seeing gaze studied her barely covered breasts, then slid higher, a small smile curling her lips.
“Perry.” Elena turned. “You’ve outdone yourself. Felicity? Where’s that new PA?”
“She’s coming later. She had to—”
“I don’t care.” She waved off the excuse. “I need a wine. White. And find me a vintage older than you are. I am serious. Perry, Samuel from The SMH’s Street Style page wanted to hear your views on the deconstruction of fashion minimalism or some such thing. Go and indulge him. Remind him that Style’s is the only view on any fashion topic that counts.”
Surprise crossed his face at the dismissal, but he merely nodded. Felicity had already gone—not even bothering to argue that she was not a PA. Maybe that was the difference between Maddie and Felicity. Only one of them had ever said no to Elena.
Now alone with the woman, Maddie felt awkward and only too aware of the lack of space between them. “Hey.”
Elena gave her an indifferent look, as though she hadn’t just orchestrated their time alone. “Are you enjoying yourself, Madeleine?”
“I just got here. But it’s been impressive so far.” Her gaze shifted to Elena’s dress. Very impressive.
“I see. And did you wear that just to get a rise out of everyone?” Elena’s tone was taunting.
“Not everyone.” Just you.
“Look at them.” Elena lowered her mouth towards her ear. “The men can’t keep their eyes off you, and the women are all green with envy. You’re the talk of the room.”
Her perfume was intoxicating. Maddie struggled to focus. “Even if that’s true, and I highly doubt it, didn’t you handpick this dress?”
Elena didn’t deny the charge; she merely pressed her lips together and straightened. “So, who would you like to meet first?”
Maddie glanced at her, already missing her nearness. “Meet?”
“As per our arrangement. You wished to be introduced to the publishing world. Here are some of the best of the biggest names. Let’s start with the obvious. Do you plan to remain in Australia for your career?”
“Yes.”
“As I assumed. So, among these publishers, who would you most like to be talking to right now?” She waved her hand at the room.
“You.” That just slipped out. Maddie wanted to groan.
Elena’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Well, that is flattering, Madeleine, but I cannot further your career in Australian publishing the way these people can. Not unless you plan to work in fashion. Follow me.” She led the way. “I’ll introduce you to the publisher for Beyond Magazines Consolidated. Maurice is a man with power, connections, and opportunities.”
Maddie felt a hand at her elbow and glanced down. She was propelled towards a clutch of men in tuxedos.
They nodded politely as Elena and Maddie arrived.
“Ms Bartell.” The oldest man stepped forward, clasped Elena’s hands, and air-kissed her cheek. He turned. His gaze slunk its way all over Maddie. Twice.
“And who is this gorgeous delight?” he asked.
The hand at Maddie’s arm tightened a little and Elena’s smile became more fixed. “Madeleine Grey, author of the Duchamp world exclusive, meet Maurice Slater from BMC.”
Slater’s gaze leapt from Maddie’s chest to her face. “Ah, I see,” he said, respect tinging his voice. “Well, I’m honoured, Ms Grey.” He pointed at a woman behind him. “My assistant will give you Colin Sattler’s card in the features department. I hope you’ll call us if you have any thoughts on other profiles. Especially if they’re of the same standard as the Duchamp interview.”
“Thanks, Mr Slater.” Maddie accepted the card and slipped it into her clutch.
“You’re most welcome.” He shook her hand again and held it.
The grip on Maddie’s arm just above her elbow became like iron. “Lovely seeing you again, Maurice. Now we really must circulate.” Elena’s voice was firm, as she quickly led Maddie away.
When they were out of Slater’s line of sight, Elena’s pace slowed and her smile slipped along with her grip. “Well,” she said tightly, “brevity is a virtue with some in our industry.”
Before Maddie could comment, Elena changed direction and propelled them to a different group.
* * *
As the night wore on, Maddie met anyone who was anyone in publishing and her purse filled with important business cards.
“How are you faring?” Elena asked, when Maddie’s fixed grin slipped a little.
She tried to pull apart the threads of her emotions to answer that. “There’s so much posturing, isn’t there? A lot of ego. They’re so ruthless, ambitious, and hungry. It’s also a little disconcerting how much they want to talk to me. Last month they wouldn’t have given me a second look.”
“Well, that’s publishing. Your story is all anyone’s talking about. Many people in this room have tried to get that interview over the years. Yet here you are—an unknown who waltzed in and plucked the prize out from under all their noses. They want to size you up and see whether you’re a flash in the pan or someone to headhunt.”
“Interesting choice of words. Some of those editors made me feel like I was part of a game hunt in Africa.”
“You do have quite the pelt.” Elena smirked and dusted her fingertips along Maddie’s forearm to demonstrate. She left a trail of goosebumps. Her intense gaze was back, too. The one that made Maddie desperate to know what she was thinking.
A harried Felicity reappeared, hair spilling out of her updo, and a large, bulging bag on her shoulder. She passed Elena a wine glass. Maddie recalled she’d requested, some time ago, a vintage older than Felicity. “Do not ask me where I got that from. It’s best if you have plausible deniability.” She gave her shoulder bag a waggle.
Elena took the glass without comment. She nodded to Felicity and tilted her head back as she took a sip, her elegant, pale neck on display.
Maddie was transfixed—until the intoxicating view was blocked by one of Elena’s top newspaper executives. Jason Lucas stepped right inside her personal space and smi
led at her.
“Well, hello again,” he said in what Maddie knew was his suave voice.
She stepped back to restore her space. The man was harmless enough. He’d often stopped at her desk to chat while he waited for Elena to be free. He never seemed fazed by the fact the conversation was mainly one sided. But listening was not one of his strong suits.
“Mr Lucas,” Maddie said.
Elena had stopped drinking, her gaze shifting between the two.
“Why so formal?” he asked. His eyes brightened as he took her in. “My, my, Madeleine, don’t you look beautiful.”
The way he said her name felt mangled without Elena’s subtle French inflection. “Maddie. It’s Maddie.”
“Not according to my boss.” He gave Elena a winning smile that was unreturned. He shifted back to Maddie, drawing her name out. “Mad-a-lin.”
Harmless or not, the man had all the comprehension skills of a toenail infection. She sighed.
“You promised me a dance,” Jason said with a wink. “You can tell me all about why your name is on everyone’s lips in here.”
What promise? She hadn’t promised anything. “No,” Maddie said firmly, “I didn’t—”
Elena’s attention was now fixed on Maddie. “Don’t let me keep you. If you have promised my junior executive a dance—”
Maddie gave an adamant head shake. “No! And, look, I’m here to network tonight—”
“Mad-a-lay-na.” Elena emphasised her own pronunciation. “One dance won’t get in the way of that.”
“See?” Jason looked delighted. “You even have permission from the boss. So let’s…” His arm was around Maddie’s waist before she could react, and he whisked her onto the dance floor.
Maddie, going with him by rote, was still trying to process what had just happened. Was this expected of her? Enforced dancing? Elena seemed to act as though it was. If this was networking, she hated it.
Jason swung her to face him, bringing her in line of sight of Elena.
Maddie stared at her former boss, trying to see some hint of whatever might explain what on earth Maddie was suddenly doing on the dance floor with Elena’s junior executive. She saw only a picture of indifference. So the woman didn’t even care Maddie had been press-ganged into this?
“Stop.” Maddie exhaled. “Jason, come on, you know I didn’t agree to this.”
“Hey, it’s just a dance. We’re here now, so let’s just go with it.” He grinned and pulled her against him. “Come on, it’ll be fun. One tiny, little dance. Where’s the harm?”
Maddie stepped back and pushed away, her anger rising. “You can’t seem to take a hint, so I’ll say it with smaller words: Get stuffed!”
“What?” Jason’s grin faltered. “Something I said?”
Christ.
Curious stares drilled into Maddie, and those dancing around her had stopped to watch. She shot them all dark looks and made her escape.
She exited the building, lifting her gown to allow her to navigate the stone steps in heels, suddenly irritated by all the admiring looks men shot her way as she hurried past them.
Part of her wondered what was wrong with her that she couldn’t play the game the way everyone else could. They did it without any effort. Why was she so bad at this? Maddie just couldn’t schmooze, couldn’t fake it, couldn’t fit in. She couldn’t fit in New York, and now she felt like a fish out of water in this world, too. She was allergic to pretending to be something she was not. Like this bloody dress.
She threw up her arm to hail a cab, but none of those whizzing past stopped.
Great—now she couldn’t get anyone’s attention.
“Madeleine.”
She jumped and turned to find Elena standing behind her. Not a hair was out of place, but a faint blush in her cheeks indicated that she’d moved fast to catch up to her.
“Oh. Elena.” Could this get any more embarrassing? She turned to face the street. “Come to tell me what an idiot I am?”
“No. But please explain to me why you have run off.”
“I won’t be forced to dance with anyone.”
“Forced?”
“I didn’t want to dance with him. I know Jason Lucas is one of your rising-star executives and you thought I should network with him or whatever. But I didn’t want him touching me. Why should I have to go along with it? Why do I have to make nice with someone who thought my eyes were at chest level? What’s wrong with just not wanting to dance?”
Elena gave her an inscrutable look. “Nothing.”
“But you virtually threw him at me.”
“I did no such thing. I simply gave you permission, in case you felt obligated to remain at my side, networking.”
She sounded so reasonable that Maddie felt foolish. Had she misread everything? She gazed at the streets that were shining from the street lamps. It had been raining earlier, and they looked almost pretty.
“All night,” Maddie explained quietly, “I felt like a…thing, not a person. Everyone wanted a piece of me, professionally or…otherwise. And Lucas was the last straw. He didn’t even ask, he just took what he wanted.” She glanced down at herself. “I’m feeling too laid bare tonight.” She looked back up at Elena. “I don’t think I’m cut out to be displayed like a prime rib.” She crossed her arms and shivered. “Maybe I’m not cut out for any of this.”
“I thought you wanted to be with him,” Elena murmured.
“Where would you get that idea from?” Maddie gave her an indignant look.
Elena regarded her evenly. “He said you’d promised him a dance.”
“He lied.”
“Ah.” Uncertainty crossed Elena’s features, and she glanced away. “I wasn’t aware.”
Wasn’t that the nub of everything? Maddie rubbed her arms and thought about that. “Did you know that I could tell what you were thinking? When I worked for you. In ninety-nine out of a hundred times, I could predict what you would do or want from me next. It’s what made me an effective assistant.”
Elena eyed her, appearing mystified by this line of conversation. “You were an efficient PA,” she said with a tiny nod.
“And what most annoyed me tonight was that…” Maddie faded out. She was being unreasonable. Elena was a busy woman with a multimillion-dollar company to run, on top of pretty much editing a global fashion magazine. She didn’t have time to know things about Maddie. She might have a lapse every now and then, and touch her as if she meant something. But how often had Elena conveyed her indifference when Maddie worked for her? No personal questions or opinions asked or exchanged since they’d been in Sydney. Didn’t that tell her everything she needed to know? She was being a fool, expecting this woman to truly know her. Or expecting her to want to.
“Nothing,” Maddie said, feeling suddenly washed out. The adrenaline was seeping away and all she wanted to do was crawl into bed. “I’m sorry. I expected too much from you. I was wrong to. And I’m having a bad night.”
Elena gave her a direct look. “Let me guess. It annoyed you tonight that although you feel you know me, I didn’t know you well enough to deduce that you did not want Lucas’s attentions foisted upon you. I was somehow expected to divine this telepathically. And you feel I more or less thrust you at him. Am I close?”
Maddie winced. “It’s not your fault. I know it’s absurd to expect…”
“Absurd. Yes. Because I’m Elena Bartell. And I’m oblivious in all things not related to business. I didn’t even know what my husband was up to underneath my own nose. Correct?”
Maddie forced herself not to nod. But yes. Elena would never win awards for her interpersonal relationships. It wasn’t her strength. Maddie knew it, and still she’d expected greater awareness from her. Because she’d thought they were closer than they were. That was on her, she supposed.
“I take silence as agreement,” Elena said, her tone cool. “I had no idea that you felt one dance with that man was such a test case for where we stand with each other.”
> Maddie studied the watchful face in front of her. “And where is that? Where do we stand with each other?”
“Elena!” came a voice from behind.
They turned.
“Oh thank God.” Felicity gasped. “I was afraid you’d left and…” Her gaze fell to Maddie. “Oh. Sorry. Am I interrupting another flounce-out?”
Maddie glared back at her. There was a limit to her patience.
Elena short-circuited her response by saying, with an impatient snap, “What is it?”
“Morgan Rosenfeld just made some preposterous declarations about Style Sydney’s future plans to a dozen media, and he was half drunk, and no one knows whether he was joking or not. Can you…?”
Elena gave a grim nod. “I will see to the media. Get Perry to divert our chairman away from the bar. I’ll join you shortly.”
Felicity hesitated, sliding her gaze over Maddie, then turned and clopped away on her heels.
“Madeleine,” Elena said, voice soft, “where we stand is, I’m a married woman with a soon-to-be toxic, public divorce. The whole world will be watching me for cracks. I cannot afford mistakes. I can’t start something with you now. Do you understand that there are things that are impossible in my position?”
Maddie felt the ground drop out beneath her at the truth of it being stated so starkly.
Impossible.
Elena leaned forward and whispered, “However, in future, I’ll have Jason Lucas flayed alive if he touches you without permission.” There was a pause, and warm breath danced against Maddie’s earlobe. “And just in case you couldn’t tell from the reaction you received, you looked beautiful tonight. Exquisite. But next time, for our ball in New York, why not dress the way you wish it, not the way you think someone else might appreciate? Although appreciate it, I most certainly did.”
