Maddie worked steadily until a sharp noise made her turn. Elena had slammed the phone down in its receiver and was glaring at it. Maddie spun around and whispered to Felicity, “What’s crawled up her ass today?”

“Some lowlife left her a deranged gift.” Felicity glowered, as though she wished to find the culprit and flay them alive. And then flay them dead, too.

Maddie’s stomach dropped into freefall. “W-what?”

“A witchcraft plant. Can you believe it? They use it in exorcisms and the like. Elena tossed it, of course. People are disgusting.”

Maddie’s gaze fell to floor level. A mangled green leaf was poking out of the trash can.

Oh. She took in the deep lines on Elena’s face. Her gift had backfired. Spectacularly.

“You didn’t happen to see anyone put that on her desk?” Felicity asked her. “She’s on a witch hunt for who did it. No pun intended.”

“No, I didn’t see anyone.” Well, it was the truth. Her stomach sank even further.

“What’s your problem? You look like someone shot your puppy. With a bazooka.”

“Nothing.” She swivelled back to her desk. “I have a few obits to catch up on. No rest for the dead.”

Felicity sniffed. “Whatever. Not like I care.”

Maddie called up the website she’d found when half exhausted last night. The one that said Angelica was inspirational. With the benefit of sleep and hindsight, she could see it was just an almanac a farmer had thrown together. She dug further and discovered that there were actually more than sixty varieties of the plant. Trust her to have bought the exorcism kind.

Maddie had to make this right. She called Simon. Last night’s can’t-sleep-baking frenzy would come in handy. She just needed a delivery boy.

Later that evening, when Elena stepped out of her office, Maddie snuck in with her peace offering and a printout of the original page that claimed the plant was inspirational. She also scribbled out a note.

To fix any misunderstandings, I give you more angel, less devil.

And then her signature velvet-angel-food cupcake was left beside it.

Thank God, Simon hadn’t already eaten them all.

Hoping it was enough, Maddie went back to work. She was vaguely aware of Felicity packing up her things and leaving for the night and the office emptying out around her. She kept working hard until a shadow fell over her desk.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Elena asked, voice low, holding up the cupcake in a pincer grip. “Are you mocking me?” She dropped the baked good on Maddie’s desk.

“N-no!” Maddie’s eyes went wide, her stomach lurching. “Never. I meant what I wrote.”

“Then what are you doing? Leaving me offerings like spoor around the office?”

Maddie flushed. Spoor? That’s how she saw it?

“I just wanted to say well done.” Maddie felt miserable under that burning gaze. “But I’m sorry if you see it as some sort of an attack. It was an accident. I didn’t mean to offend you. Don’t worry. I won’t do it again.”

Elena peered at her for a long time, so long that Maddie began to shift in her seat.

“You truly never meant that ridiculous plant to be a witch reference?”

Maddie gave her head an adamant shake. “I had no idea there was more than one meaning.”

“So what are you congratulating me for?”

“Businessperson of the Year. That’s amazing!”

“Is it? Third year in a row. I suspect they are simply lazy. I could fill a room with all the trinkets and titles various organisations feel the need to foist upon me. They just want the publicity that would come from my attendance.”

Maddie blinked at her. “So you don’t think it’s an honour?”

“I don’t do any of this for honours. If people throw awards at me for just doing my job, I can’t very well stop them. I will appear on cue, read Felicity’s speech—a variation, no doubt, on her previous two—smile, wave, leave. It’s good for publicity and share prices, but that’s all.”

“Um.” Maddie tried to hide her shock. Because it all sounded so ungrateful, not to mention kind of…empty. “You don’t want to even hear you’ve done well? That’s kind of sad, don’t you think?”

Elena glared at her. “You don’t get to judge me. I employ thousands of people worldwide, and they rely on me to get things right, not swan about at various award nights. I make one mistake, and papers and magazines close. You have no idea what it’s like to be me or have the focus I require just to do my job as well as I do. You don’t know me at all.”

“No, I don’t know you.” Maddie took a deep breath and said the most insane thing she ever had. “So tell me. I’d like to know you. I really would.”

“Excuse me?” Elena rocked back on her heels. “Is this some Australian thing, just blurting out statements like that?”

“You know, I get asked that a fair bit.” Maddie gave her a rueful smile. “Like, whether I always just say what I think or whether there’s any thought behind it. I’m not too sure of the answer myself. I know I can be blunt, but is that so bad? And you didn’t answer my question—would you like to talk to me anyway? There’s no one here but us. I’m like a vault, I promise.”

Elena stared at her as if unsure what to say or do with that unlikely suggestion. “I…” she faded out. “No.”

“Oh.” Maddie swallowed. Yeah, of course. What was I thinking anyway? She felt her face flush and the tips of her ears burn. “I… It’s okay. I really do need to shut up sometimes and not—”

“I have a contract to go over. And a report to submit.” Elena glanced at the far wall, with the time-zones display. She frowned. “By ten.”

“Oh!” Maddie couldn’t hold back her smile. Elena hadn’t turned down her offer as a bad joke. She’d just said she was busy. “I mean, so, another night, then? I admit I’m even more impertinent after a coffee in me. But I can be pretty amusing too. Half the time I have no clue where my mouth is going. I’m told it can be gobsmacking to listen to at times.”

Elena’s lips quirked. “I’ll bet. But no. I do have work.” She started to leave, then stopped, turned, and picked up the cupcake she’d dumped on Maddie’s desk minutes ago. “A shame for it to go to waste.”

“Yep.” Maddie tried to sound neutral. Hot damn. As Elena turned to go, Maddie grinned so wide her cheeks hurt.

“And stop smiling,” Elena said on her way to her desk, not looking back.

How did she do that?

“It’s blinding,” she added.

Maddie laughed.

Okay, so that was not the worst thing to ever happen.

BlogSpot: Aliens of New York

By Maddie as Hell

I remember the time I learned to ride a bike. I pushed off from the curb at my old house on Mitchell St, South Penrith. I was wobbling like crazy. My older brother was holding his sides from laughing and calling out names, and my mother was telling him to be quiet and offering me encouragement.