Maddie winced. “Just before the ball, a big magazine article I wrote will come out. It exposes a really touchy subject of hers. And it’s a bit too close to home. Like, really close.”

“It sounds an important thing, this subject?”

“Yeah.”

“Then if your lady is worth anything at all, she will not mind. She will know you did not do this to hurt her. That it is worthy.”

Maddie didn’t say anything. She truly didn’t know which way Elena would go on this. It was different when she had chosen her assistants over her husband. Everything had been out of the public eye. Punishments delivered in secret. Soon, though, people in Elena’s industry, people she worked with every day, would figure out the truth. She would feel humiliated. Maddie’s heart thudded painfully at the thought. She never wanted to hurt her, but she could see no way around it.

* * *

Vanity Fair splashed her story on its cover. It showed a picture of an artfully posed assistant-type woman with black gaffer tape over her mouth and a haunted look in her eyes. A broken camera, next to a pair of glittery heels, lay smashed on the floor. The headline read: Fear and Clothing in New York: The Truth About Shattered Fashion Dreams.

The story went viral the moment it hit the internet. Her article was linked to by every major fashion blog, and sparked conversation and debate about what fashion hopefuls went through to get ahead. Her phone went insane again, with congratulations from everyone. The only name that had not appeared was Elena’s. Maddie didn’t hear a single, curt syllable out of her.

Well, not until the day of the ball.

* * *

I’ll be coming from the other side of town. You will have to make your own way there. E.

That text pinged six hours before they were due to meet and sounded way too pissy to be safe. Maddie immediately called Perry, who was based at Style New York again along with his mercurial boss.

“On a scale of minor meltdown to thermonuclear, how pissed off is Elena at me?” Maddie asked as soon as he answered.

He laughed. “Ah, Maddie, I wondered when you’d stick your head above the parapet and call. You have a mammoth set of ovaries, I’ll give you that.”

Maddie chewed her nail anxiously.

At her silence, Perry said, “Look, she’s not talking about it at all. She went quiet and fired a few minions for incompetence, and that was it. She looks ready to explode, though, and everyone’s keeping their distance. Felicity is threatening to throttle you on sight, yet again, for upsetting her goddess. So, you may wish to practice your duck and cover.”

Maddie winced. “Did the fired minions deserve it at least?”

“Of course. I’m sure even you know the saying, ‘Blue and green should never be seen, unless there’s a colour in between’. Well, they didn’t. They were walking eyesores at Style’s accessories department and should know better. Speaking of, when are you coming in to pick out a dress? I’ve stashed a few from up-and-coming designers who want to be noticed. I can see you at…hmmm…two today. It’s cutting it mighty fine, but still…”

“I’m not coming in. I’ve found my own outfit.”

“Maddie! Are you cheating on me?”

She laughed at his shocked tone. “And how. Wait till you see.”

“Please, tell me you’re not cruising Target. I would have to disown you if you embraced the perils of polyblend. I have limits.”

“No. A certain Duchamp lady has provided me with something. It’s Natalii’s new line. Reserve judgment until then.”

“Natalii’s?” Perry gave an intrigued half snort, which Maddie took as approval, and said goodbye.

* * *

The Plaza Hotel on Fifth Avenue was thumping with upbeat music and a crush of people when Maddie arrived. Her nerves were channelled into one thing, coping with the impending arrival of Elena. Would her former boss publicly flay her alive or take her into a side room for the inevitable?

“Here, over here! Miss?” A flashbulb went off, and she turned to see a few photographers snapping in her direction and several fashion bloggers holding microphones.

“Who are you wearing?” asked the closest one, standing next to a tripod-mounted camera. “I don’t recognise it.”

Maddie thought she knew her from a blog site, Daring to Dazzle? Dazzle-something anyway.

“Natalii. Two i’s.”

“Two i’s? As in Duchamp? As in daughter of Véronique?”

“Yes. One and the same.”

The woman’s expression transformed. “Oh my God,” she breathed, and hyperventilation seemed a real possibility. “Is this the world’s first look at it?”

“Yes.”

“When does the collection drop? Why you? What do the other pieces look like? How many are there? What do you know? I have so many questions!”

“All details are on her new website, nataliiduchamp.com.” Maddie caught sight of an elegantly suited, dark-skinned man in the distance.

Perry stopped dead as he glanced towards Maddie. He pointed at her outfit, then fluttered his hand over his heart in approval. He pointed inside the building and then turned and disappeared into the crowd.

She smiled. “Sorry, I have to catch up with some people.”

“Okay, sure. Any time. And thanks!”

As she moved off, out of the corner of her eye, Maddie saw the blogger tapping furiously on her phone, doubtlessly alerting the world of another Duchamp breaking into the fashion world. She threw back her shoulders and entered the ballroom with a confidence she truly felt this time.

“Maddie Grey, isn’t it?” asked a woman approaching with a genial smile. She was blonde, attractive, with keen eyes and a slow, easy stride.

“That’s me.”

“Theresa Hunter from Time Magazine. I saw your piece on broken fashion dreams in New York. That was sensational stuff.”

“Thanks.” Maddie brightened.

“So who was the business executive? The one with the groping husband? We all want to know.”

Maddie’s enthusiasm faltered. “I’m not saying.”

“It’s all anyone’s talking about. How about a hint?” Theresa grinned. “I’ll take an initial. Can I buy a vowel?”

“No. If I told you the name, then that would help identify the victims.”

“Good point. Well, if I can’t buy a vowel, can I buy you a drink?” She threw in a cheeky smile, proving she meant it exactly the way it sounded.

“Drinks are free,” Maddie said, unimpressed anyone in the media would suggest she put victims at risk. “Sorry. Right now I have some friends to catch up with.”