“She did much worse than that.” Perry said thoughtfully. “She outed you. I don’t mean she outed you, which is bad enough. She’s outed you. It can be seen as homophobic violence given how dangerous outing can be for some. So a woman heading a magazine about fashion—the gayest industry on earth—just committed homophobia because she was pissy she’d been beaten professionally. Now how do you think that’ll play in our world?”
Madeleine gave a slow smile. “Oh…dear. That’s true. Perry? Could you give Elena and me five minutes?”
“Sure.” He disappeared.
“What has crossed that furtive mind of yours?” Elena asked.
“That depends. How would you feel about being outed in a big way?”
“I thought I already was.” Elena folded her arms.
“Please, The New York Daily Commute’s readership barely gets above a hundred and fifty thousand on a good day, and only then because it’s given away on street corners. Do you think even ten percent of people will read that Lecoq crap on their subway ride? They’ll flick through news and sport, if that. What I’m asking is how you’d feel if you woke up tomorrow, and everyone knew.”
“I…” Elena hesitated as she turned that over. Her conservative Polish-American parents had likely worked her out years ago but were sticking to “don’t ask-don’t tell”. Not that she was close to them. Her most intimate friends, well, friend—Perry—already knew. So…that just left herself. Being talked about and criticised were nothing new given her job. But none of it had ever been so personal. “What of you?” Elena dodged. “Won’t people wonder if you got ahead thanks to dating me? Lecoq’s mud could stick.”
Madeleine snorted. “You mightn’t have noticed, but I made a point of never writing for any of your mastheads. As me for personally? Everyone in my life knows and is cool. Mum thinks you’re adorable by the way. That’s hilarious.”
“Adorable? Me?” Elena stared in astonishment.
“Yup.” Madeleine snickered.
“Does she know my reputation? The names I’m called? They’re not unfounded.”
“She knows. She still thinks you’re adorable—has done so ever since you got me that birthday cupcake.”
Elena sagged. “You’re both as mad as each other. I never could intimidate you even the slightest.”
“Nope.” Madeleine grinned. “Don’t know why you even bothered. So in answer to your question, I’d be honoured to be outed as yours.” She added softly, “Now stop stalling and tell me: Is this a big deal for you?”
“Professionally? Once, I might have thought it was a disaster. But after today’s figures? Hell, they’re lucky to have me.”
“Damn straight.” Madeleine chuckled. “Sooo….did you just convince yourself? Or do you still have doubts?”
Elena sighed. “I always have doubts. But that’s me. I always ensure I’ve thought of all angles. It’s what makes me so successful. I live with doubts.”
“And personally?”
“I’ve loved having you all to myself. It’s been wonderful not having to share you with the world, our secret. But I’m not ashamed of us.”
Madeleine nodded. “All right. So, I do have a plan. It’s a subtle way to point out the error of Emmanuelle’s ways and possibly spark a grovelling apology—while you stay above it all.”
“Oh?” Elena liked the sound of that a great deal.
“Let’s get Perry in here to run it past him too.”
A moment later, the art director returned with a pensive look on his face. His gaze scraped the whole room, as though fearing there might be blood on the walls. He paused at the champagne bottle on the desk, shifted his gaze, and then squinted at something by the windows.
Elena followed his eye. Oh. Yes, well, he hadn’t given her much time, had he? Or, rather, Madeleine hadn’t.
“Is that…?” He pointed at Elena’s crumpled thong.
“You’d be well advised not to finish that thought.” Elena glowered at him, willing a blush not to rise on her face.
Perry snorted. “Celebrating earlier, were we?”
Elena tossed him a death glare.
Madeleine laughed hard.
And the planning began.
* * *
Four days later, Maddie nervously eyed the Features Editor for the esteemed US Review magazine she was sitting opposite. The woman was in her sixties, with a sharp face and a weary expression.
“To recap,” Dorothy Follows said, “you wish to change that brilliant pitch you emailed last month and instead write something on…” she consulted her notes, “…the ethics of outing gay people?”
“More than that.” Maddie leaned in. “I’ll talk to people who’ve been outed and how that affected their life. Some celebrities, political figures, maybe a coach on a high school team, an ethicist. I’ll ask where we draw the line in a nation that prides itself on free speech.”
Fallows regarded her. “An interesting concept, but no.”
Maddie’s heart sank. “But it’s so wrong.”
“It is. It’d be like running a story on the ethical question of racism. Why would we, when the answer’s obvious?”
“It’s, um, topical?” Maddie said weakly.
“How so? Who’s been outed?”
