“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.