Bartell eyed her, fingers on her hips, drumming ferociously, and Maddie thought she was about three seconds from being fired. Deciding retreat was the best option, she hastily added, “But I should get back to work, and I’m sorry I ruined your yoga thingy.”
She returned to her desk, feeling those eyes on her the entire time. Her shoulders slumped. Seriously, what had she done to earn the wrath of Bartell? How could anyone be that pissed off about having a light turned off on them? Or was it something else? She wasn’t still mad over yesterday’s steampunk reference? God, was that it? Either way, it looked as if Bartell hated her guts, and Maddie wasn’t helping matters much.
So what was she going to do about it? Sit and mope for the rest of the six weeks? She twiddled with the Sydney Harbour snow dome on her desk, gave it a shake, and watched the improbable snowflakes wafting down. It was done now, right? She’d already pissed off her new boss, and she couldn’t take it back. So she should just…be herself. Stop fretting. Do whatever she’d normally do.
She slapped Sydney Harbour back in its place and opened her computer feed to check the wire services and media releases. Later, she would put through yet another call to the Queens Narcotics Squad. A formal request for an interview through DCPI had gone nowhere. So maybe the drugs squad would get tired of being badgered by the crazy Aussie and actually return her call? Or not.
* * *
When Maddie arrived at work the next day, there was a new PA sitting next to Felicity—a fearful young woman with legs up to her chin and the balance of a day-old kitten. If she wasn’t trying to pick her way around on platform shoes, she might have a hope at doing her job. Maddie watched out of the corner of her eye, as the skittish assistant leapt up and down with every request from Bartell, her face becoming more and more panicked.
Maddie spun her chair around when she disappeared on yet another errand, and her gaze connected with Felicity’s. “I give her three days. She’s a human meltdown.”
“Generous. I’m expecting her to resign by day’s end. I found her in the bathroom with tears streaming down her face. Said her work situation was ‘not what she’d expected’.” Felicity’s fingers swished to form derisive air quotes. “Did she truly think working for a global media legend would be a breeze?”
Maddie shrugged, and her gaze darted back to the awkward woman, heading back with paperwork under her arm, her legs wobbling. “Uh-oh.” The woman face-planted in front of Elena in a tangle of limbs and a squeal loud enough to draw every eye on the floor. She clutched her ankle.
“Hell, she’s sprained it.” Felicity picked up the phone. “I’ll book a temp, then start the hunt for yet another new PA. She won’t be walking on that ankle anytime soon.”
“I’ll get some ice.”
“Don’t bother. I’ll call her a cab as well. She can deal with it at home.”
Maddie shook her head at Felicity’s callousness and went to the office kitchen anyway. After finding ice at the back of the freezer, she wrapped it in a kitchen towel. Maddie headed back, ignoring Bartell’s cool gaze from within her office, and handed over the cold package to the PA, who was now in her seat. Huge, tear-stained eyes greeted Maddie.
“Thanks,” the assistant whispered, placing it on her ankle. “It hurts like hell. And Elena just fired me.”
“Oh,” Maddie said. “Well, she does that. A lot. Or so I’m told.”
The wet eyes in front of her went wide, her focus lifting to behind Maddie’s shoulder.
She turned and found Bartell a foot behind her, regarding them.
“I believe you have work to do,” she said to Maddie. “I understand nursemaid is no closer to the duties of a journalist than personal assistant is. Or have I misunderstood your job description as you explained it to me?”
Maddie patted the younger woman’s leg gently and rose. “She was in pain.”
“As was I who had to listen to her wailing.”
Maddie gave her a dark look and returned to her desk. Of all the rude, insufferable, unfeeling bitches. She shot a mutinous glare over her shoulder.
The security guard with muscles up to his nostrils had arrived to help the wounded woman out of the building. Bartell was ignoring the entire scene, back at her computer, a look of indifference on her face.
Christ. Elena Bartell was not just a cold fish, but snap-frozen sushi.
Maddie shifted her attention back to work. She was due to write an obituary. Some teacher had died after fifty years in service. Maddie had to choose people who would resonate with their audience—such as business leaders, celebrities, sporting stars—but they did leave it up to her when no one famous had died. Mrs Mavis Swenson looked as if she’d lived a life of mundane, until Maddie read what her children had listed as her hobbies. Mountain climbing? Abseiling? She put Maddie to shame.
Maddie was twenty-six, and her career misstep had cost her so much time. She’d lost two and a half years doing a level-four certificate in hospitality and catering management so she could step into her family’s business. Instead, she’d switched to a journalism degree six months before she was due to get the diploma. Her parents had been appalled, begging her to at least finish the course. She hadn’t seen the point. Six more months doing something she hated? No thanks. The downside of changing careers was that she now felt like the oldest junior reporter in history, and she was still treading water.
A few hours later, a flash of blonde in her vicinity caught her eye. Felicity was trying to explain to a temp what her duties would be. Not that she was doing a particularly thorough job.
“That’s Elena’s office. She is God. Do what God says, whatever she says, and we won’t have a problem. Understood? Good. Now get the chai latte order I wrote out for you. Go!”
When the woman disappeared, Felicity flopped down at her desk with an aggrieved sigh.
“How do you even get any work done if all you do is induct new PAs and temps?” Maddie asked, swivelling her chair to face Felicity.
“I’d get a lot more done if the dead-people writer would stop bothering me.”
Maddie ignored the dig. She was realising by now that this passed as Felicity almost being friendly. “Hey, what do you actually do for your boss? You’re not a PA, because you keep hiring them for her. I’ve narrowed it down to somewhere between ‘whatever Elena wants’ and ‘something to do with law’. So which is it?”
“Both. I’m her personal chief of staff. I have an MBA and a Harvard law degree. I could have set up my own practice.”
Maddie stared at her. She seemed too young for all that. “Then why didn’t you?”
Felicity gaped at her. “Be serious. Look at who I’m working for! I’m witness to some of the most crucial media moves made this century. I’m the woman that almost a hundred attorneys from all over the world call when they have business with Elena. I keep the Titanic headed away from the icebergs, thank you very much.”
“Oh? A hundred attorneys? I mean…is that supposed to be good?”
“Oh my God, can you really be this…this…Australian? Elena is a business legend. And I’m her right-hand woman. She relies on me. I’m at the cutting edge of everything. I prep contracts for signing, and I advise on risk assessments of business acquisitions. Like this one.” She waved at the newsroom.
“So you’re why she’s here? You told her to buy this place?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, I did no such thing. If I had my way, this pitiful paper would be at the bottom of the Hudson. It was in a bundle of mastheads she picked up for a song. Some of the other publications in the bundle had merit.”
“So if this place is such a hole, why is she even debating keeping it? And spending six weeks thinking about it—which seems a long time for someone like her.”
A mystified look crossed Felicity’s face. “Elena is a brilliant businesswoman. I’m certain her strategy will reveal itself. Even if someone can’t see it, she always has it. She thinks ten steps ahead of the rest. I’m learning a lot here. It’s an incredible opportunity.”
