“After. I’d gone outside to leave, and she followed and said all that.”
“Ahhh,” Natalii said. “Let us review—your boss, the one who does not care, the one who has such indifference, runs after you to tell you these things. Your Elena, she does not do this often, am I right?”
Maddie was shocked the thought had never occurred to her. “I guess not.”
“Oui.” Natalii nodded, satisfied. “And she told you she is to be divorced so mistakes cannot be made.”
“Yeah.”
“So if she is not interested, why tell you about this divorce? Hmm? Why not say, ‘Go away! I do not like you that way and never will? Be gone!’”
“Um, because she didn’t want to be mean?”
Natalii laughed and slapped Maddie’s thigh. “Your Elena loves to be mean. I see her; it amuses her sometimes. It is a game. Non. That is not it. Divorces, they are temporary. She is telling you there must be patience. She says not now, not yet. She does not say non.”
“She said it was impossible.”
“Because she is still married. Oui?”
“Um.” Maddie was suddenly a lot less sure of what Elena’s words had meant. But she knew, absolutely knew, she shouldn’t dare to believe. Even so, the swell of hope in her chest was breathtaking. “Oh…” She exhaled again.
Natalii beamed. “So, here I am. Here to make you happy, the way you make me and mon Adèle blissful.” She rose, unzipped the garment bag, and carefully lifted the outfit.
Maddie stared. “Holy…Oh!” She leapt up and rushed to the outfit and trailed her fingers over the material. Then she hugged Natalii, who laughed in her ear.
“I take this to mean un succès?”
“Oui!” Maddie was in awe. “Holy shit! Your mother could do a whole new line with this. You know that, right?”
“Oh, I do. But it is my design, and I am already doing a whole new line with it. This is the first piece in my own label, Natalii. You shall be my model for the evening. Make sure you tell them all who made it when the photographers go snap, snap, snap. Okay?”
“I will,” Maddie said. “Oh my God. I think Elena’s brain will explode when she sees this design.”
Natalii frowned. “That is a good thing?”
“Oh yeah. Really good. A new Duchamp design? Except the twist is it’s the daughter now? Wow, she’ll…that is…” She faded out as a thought hit. “I mean if she’s still speaking to me.”
“Oh? Why would she not be?”
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?”
