It had occurred to Elena after Madeleine left that she’d never said whether she knew about her husband’s behaviour due to the list or whether her experience was first hand. The mere thought filled her with dread and white-hot anger.
“He tried once at a gala.” Madeleine’s jaw tightened. “He might be big, but I’m faster. So no.”
The answer was a relief but still turned her stomach. She looked back out the window, unwilling for Madeleine to see her reaction. “No? Good,” she said, grinding out the word.
If he’d laid a finger on Madeleine, she’d have wrung the bastard’s neck. How dare he even try? Her breath fogged the window. A reminder of her mistakes in all this filled her head. She remembered one of the reasons she’d come here. Madeleine should know who she was.
“Three years ago, I fired a particularly insolent assistant,” Elena said. “On her way out the door, she turned and screeched that I was ‘as sick as him’. That I’d ‘married my perfect match’. I was too stunned to ask what she meant. I just dismissed it as bitter ranting.”
“That wouldn’t have tipped you off,” Madeleine said, apparently guessing where this was going. “You aren’t a mind reader.”
“No.” Her fingers twisted, as she thought about how damning the rest was. “About a year ago, there was another one. A timid little mouse—quiet and efficient. One day, at home, I walked downstairs just as she was dropping off some paperwork. I heard my husband’s footsteps retreating into the next room. The look on her face when she turned and I saw her eyes…” Elena slid her gaze back to Madeleine. “Fear. And do you know what I said? What I did next?”
Madeleine shook her head.
“Absolutely nothing.” Her nostrils flared in disgust at herself. “She quit the next day. No explanation—and I didn’t ask for one. I gave her a reference, something I almost never do. Yet I never stopped long enough to analyse why. There have been other moments—odd times when I have found Richard standing too close to a hotel maid or a waitress and stepping back quickly. I just dismissed these as my overactive imagination. Because I was…so taken with him.” She sneered.
Elena would not say she loved him. It was hard to know what she felt anymore. All she knew for a fact, now, was that Richard Barclay had betrayed her, played her for a fool, and hurt countless women. She glanced over and caught Madeleine’s expression. Distaste. Oh. It was to be expected, she supposed. She was confessing her sins after all. Still, the look stung.
“You’re wondering how I didn’t know his true nature,” she said, tone flat. “Especially in light of these clues. I have spent the better part of two hours driving around tonight, considering my reactions and inaction to these…moments…to my intuition. And I do not like the conclusion.”
“I can’t believe it.” Madeleine looked outraged. “All this time, and you knew. That’s—God, that’s…”
“No!” Elena said. She grabbed her hand and squeezed it urgently, needing her to understand. The warmth of it surprised her before she realised it was more likely that her own fingers were freezing. Elena dropped her hand. “No. There is a very large difference between a feeling, a hunch that something is wrong, and knowing. And do you really think, if I truly knew, I’d have let him anywhere near vulnerable young women?”
Her eyes bored into Madeleine’s. “It might be obvious now, but it wasn’t to me before. Because, as much as it pains me, it turns out you were right—I didn’t really want the truth. Not on this. Especially not when two people laid it out before me so I couldn’t hide from it anymore.”
“Two people?”
“You and Felicity. Oh Felicity is cunning. She knew exactly what she was doing, telling me Richard was always a ‘perfect gentleman’. He has become intoxicated at several events in front of us both—hardly a gentleman. She was aware I’d recognise the lie. So she was actually giving me the option to acknowledge it or not. How very…accommodating of her.” Sarcasm dripped from her voice.
“Well, we are all well-trained.”
“What? What on earth does that mean?”
“You know exactly what that means.” Madeleine shot her a fearless look. “The Elena Bartell underling rules are clear: Number one is to protect the queen. I failed and you fired me for it. So now I have to ask—why am I here?”
“I thought that was apparent. I didn’t circle your block for this long for no reason.”
Madeleine waited, eyebrow cocked.
Finally, Elena forced out words that were foreign to her. “I’m here to apologise. I should never have taken out on you my anger and disgust at the shock of hearing the truth.”
Madeleine studied her. “I think you forgot to roll your eyes, too.”
“Excuse me?”
“Elena, you’re acting as though you’re doing me a favour. You’re not the victim in my firing. Could you at least sound sorry?”
“I…” Elena paused and faded out. She was sorry, though. How dare Madeleine say… She stopped and shook her head. “I’m not good at this. Asking an assistant to return. It’s, well, unprecedented.”
“Why would I want to return?” Madeleine’s tone sounded more curious than anything else. As though she didn’t seem to care either way.
As Elena considered the implications, a coldness settled over her, along with fear. “You’ve already found a better offer?”
Maddie shrugged. “I didn’t say that. But if you want me back, you’ll have to do better than you’re doing. Woo me properly,” she said, eyes intense. “You know, tell me what a good assistant I am. Was. Just do something. Hell, anything’s better than that half-hearted apology.”
Elena smiled. She felt energised at having a mission she could get her head around, after a day of such overwhelming misery. “Woo you? Of all the… I had no idea you were this impertinent.”
Madeleine laughed.
And it was the sweetest sound Elena had heard all day. The mood lightened.
Elena’s phone lit up with a text message, and darkness mixed with relief as she saw the stark words. Her eyes flicked back up to Madeleine’s. “He’s gone. It’s done.” She felt naked. This was just so galling.
“I really didn’t know, Madeleine,” Elena added. “I’m appalled and ashamed for what you and the other assistants went through. I’m disgusted I somehow allowed myself to be in denial about his true nature. I’m sorry that I hurt you today. You did not deserve it. You have been an exemplary assistant.”
Madeleine gave her a long look. “Thank you.”
“Just so you know, four of the five names on the list are ones I do have professional power over. I used it. I blacklisted them all—the photographers, the executive… They didn’t even argue; they just wanted to know how I found out. I also dealt with…the board member. He…” She paused and her stomach twisted. Frank. Her most trusted adviser. The man who had been beside her from the first day she formed her new company. When Clarice died, he’d stepped in and become an invaluable mentor and friend. “I fired Frank. He protested his innocence and threatened to sue. I called his bluff. He backed down. He knows I don’t say things I don’t intend to do. He should; he trained me. So…I won’t be seeing him again.”
She pressed her lips into a grim line. The things Frank had called her. He’d said some things that could never be unheard. Suggesting she was a dried-up, frigid, closet job who’d probably fucked Clarice to get ahead. Where the hell had that drivel come from? His words clawed at her. Well, not the words so much as that it was Frank who’d been trying to hurt her. He’d acted as if she’d been the one to betray him.
“I’m glad you fired them all,” Madeleine said. “That’s…that’s good.”
“It’s necessary. There is nothing good about the events that have transpired.”
Madeleine gave her a thoughtful look. “So, it seems a few of your assistants would have lost their bet. I think your assistants mostly assumed that if you’d known, you’d never have punished your talented allies.”
