“What?” Jason’s grin faltered. “Something I said?”
Christ.
Curious stares drilled into Maddie, and those dancing around her had stopped to watch. She shot them all dark looks and made her escape.
She exited the building, lifting her gown to allow her to navigate the stone steps in heels, suddenly irritated by all the admiring looks men shot her way as she hurried past them.
Part of her wondered what was wrong with her that she couldn’t play the game the way everyone else could. They did it without any effort. Why was she so bad at this? Maddie just couldn’t schmooze, couldn’t fake it, couldn’t fit in. She couldn’t fit in New York, and now she felt like a fish out of water in this world, too. She was allergic to pretending to be something she was not. Like this bloody dress.
She threw up her arm to hail a cab, but none of those whizzing past stopped.
Great—now she couldn’t get anyone’s attention.
“Madeleine.”
She jumped and turned to find Elena standing behind her. Not a hair was out of place, but a faint blush in her cheeks indicated that she’d moved fast to catch up to her.
“Oh. Elena.” Could this get any more embarrassing? She turned to face the street. “Come to tell me what an idiot I am?”
“No. But please explain to me why you have run off.”
“I won’t be forced to dance with anyone.”
“Forced?”
“I didn’t want to dance with him. I know Jason Lucas is one of your rising-star executives and you thought I should network with him or whatever. But I didn’t want him touching me. Why should I have to go along with it? Why do I have to make nice with someone who thought my eyes were at chest level? What’s wrong with just not wanting to dance?”
Elena gave her an inscrutable look. “Nothing.”
“But you virtually threw him at me.”
“I did no such thing. I simply gave you permission, in case you felt obligated to remain at my side, networking.”
She sounded so reasonable that Maddie felt foolish. Had she misread everything? She gazed at the streets that were shining from the street lamps. It had been raining earlier, and they looked almost pretty.
“All night,” Maddie explained quietly, “I felt like a…thing, not a person. Everyone wanted a piece of me, professionally or…otherwise. And Lucas was the last straw. He didn’t even ask, he just took what he wanted.” She glanced down at herself. “I’m feeling too laid bare tonight.” She looked back up at Elena. “I don’t think I’m cut out to be displayed like a prime rib.” She crossed her arms and shivered. “Maybe I’m not cut out for any of this.”
“I thought you wanted to be with him,” Elena murmured.
“Where would you get that idea from?” Maddie gave her an indignant look.
Elena regarded her evenly. “He said you’d promised him a dance.”
“He lied.”
“Ah.” Uncertainty crossed Elena’s features, and she glanced away. “I wasn’t aware.”
Wasn’t that the nub of everything? Maddie rubbed her arms and thought about that. “Did you know that I could tell what you were thinking? When I worked for you. In ninety-nine out of a hundred times, I could predict what you would do or want from me next. It’s what made me an effective assistant.”
Elena eyed her, appearing mystified by this line of conversation. “You were an efficient PA,” she said with a tiny nod.
“And what most annoyed me tonight was that…” Maddie faded out. She was being unreasonable. Elena was a busy woman with a multimillion-dollar company to run, on top of pretty much editing a global fashion magazine. She didn’t have time to know things about Maddie. She might have a lapse every now and then, and touch her as if she meant something. But how often had Elena conveyed her indifference when Maddie worked for her? No personal questions or opinions asked or exchanged since they’d been in Sydney. Didn’t that tell her everything she needed to know? She was being a fool, expecting this woman to truly know her. Or expecting her to want to.
“Nothing,” Maddie said, feeling suddenly washed out. The adrenaline was seeping away and all she wanted to do was crawl into bed. “I’m sorry. I expected too much from you. I was wrong to. And I’m having a bad night.”
Elena gave her a direct look. “Let me guess. It annoyed you tonight that although you feel you know me, I didn’t know you well enough to deduce that you did not want Lucas’s attentions foisted upon you. I was somehow expected to divine this telepathically. And you feel I more or less thrust you at him. Am I close?”
Maddie winced. “It’s not your fault. I know it’s absurd to expect…”
“Absurd. Yes. Because I’m Elena Bartell. And I’m oblivious in all things not related to business. I didn’t even know what my husband was up to underneath my own nose. Correct?”
Maddie forced herself not to nod. But yes. Elena would never win awards for her interpersonal relationships. It wasn’t her strength. Maddie knew it, and still she’d expected greater awareness from her. Because she’d thought they were closer than they were. That was on her, she supposed.
“I take silence as agreement,” Elena said, her tone cool. “I had no idea that you felt one dance with that man was such a test case for where we stand with each other.”
Maddie studied the watchful face in front of her. “And where is that? Where do we stand with each other?”
“Elena!” came a voice from behind.
They turned.
“Oh thank God.” Felicity gasped. “I was afraid you’d left and…” Her gaze fell to Maddie. “Oh. Sorry. Am I interrupting another flounce-out?”
Maddie glared back at her. There was a limit to her patience.
Elena short-circuited her response by saying, with an impatient snap, “What is it?”
“Morgan Rosenfeld just made some preposterous declarations about Style Sydney’s future plans to a dozen media, and he was half drunk, and no one knows whether he was joking or not. Can you…?”
