Felicity blinked rapidly as she took in Maddie’s outfit. “Good God. Perry wasn’t wrong. Of course you get to wear that masterpiece. Because your winning streak isn’t long enough.”
Maddie opened her mouth, ready to suggest she stow the attitude, when Elena interrupted.
“Perry, please liaise with Madeleine about setting up Natalii Duchamp for a spread. The designer’s concept outfit shows promise.”
Perry’s eyes flicked between the two women. “Of course. Um…”
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a headache. Felicity, get Amir to bring the car around. I need to leave.”
Felicity scampered off to find a quieter spot to make the call. Perry turned away to nab a passing hors d’oeuvre.
“Please, don’t go,” Maddie said in a murmur the moment his back was turned. “Not over what I said. Come on, stay. It’s been so long. I’ve missed you.”
“Nothing has changed from earlier,” Elena said in a low voice. “I have already explained my position.”
“Please,” Maddie tried again. “I think we…”
She petered out when she realised Perry’s attention was back on them. His gaze darted between them, his mouth forming an O.
Elena saw the look, turned on heel, and stalked away.
Dismay filled Maddie as she watched her go.
“Why’s she leaving?” Perry’s brows knitted. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” Maddie sipped on her drink.
Perry gave her a sceptical look and sloshed the liquid around in his glass.
“What?” she asked him.
“Just promise me one thing.” He gave her a stern look. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”
“Huh? I don’t know what—”
“She’s fragile right now. I know she doesn’t look it, but I’ve seen this before, back when CQ threw her over for Emmanuelle. It gutted her. I know the look. She’s hanging by a thread, thanks to that bastard of a husband. I swear, if you turn around and break her, I will be a most disagreeable human being.”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Perry.”
“Sure you don’t,” he said, watching his boss’s retreating form. He slugged a mouthful of booze and gave her a grim look. “Sure you don’t.”
CHAPTER 31
Red
When Maddie got home, she found Natalii sitting on her sofa. She’d told her to make herself at home earlier, when she’d come by to fit Maddie’s designer suit, do her make-up, and make sure she was appropriately magnifique for the evening. She’d obviously stayed. A pizza box and red wine were on the coffee table, and the Frenchwoman was now busy shouting at the TV screen.
“Non! Not her. This is insanity.” She glanced up as Maddie slumped onto the sofa beside her. “Look at her. She is one of the top models? Nonsense!”
Maddie peered at the screen to see an array of wannabes for America’s Next Top Model.
“See her face? It is like the moon landing. Craters everywhere. Her eyes—they are crossed, you see? And what is that blind homme saying? She has an alien mystique? What is this? Alien mystique? Is she green? Non! This cannot be real.”
Maddie gave her a wan smile. Her stomach grumbled, as she looked at what was left of a Mario’s pizza. She hadn’t eaten all evening because she’d been so stressed about seeing Elena again.
Natalii nudged the pizza box over. “There is more. I was having the, what is it you say? New York experience.”
“Ah.” Maddie reached for a slice and a serviette. “Say no more.”
Natalii regarded her. “You did not have a magnifique night, then?” Disappointment edged her tone. “Your lady did not appreciate your…” She waved a hand over Maddie’s outfit.
“She liked it very much.” Maddie took a bite. Flavours exploded across her tongue. God, just what I needed. A fatty, greasy hit to drown my sorrows. She chewed and swallowed. “Everyone did. That reminds me—expect your design all over the blogosphere tonight. The fashion reporters loved it.”
Natalii did not smile, although her eyes brightened with pleasure. “That is good, but I did not do this for them. What of you? What has happened?”
Maddie took another bite, feeling sharp eyes studying her closely. “Elena left early. We had a…um, like, a mini fight. Well, not even.”
“A fight?” Natalii’s eyes widened.
“Sort of.” Maddie felt morose just saying it.
Without a word, Natalii took four steps into the adjacent, open-plan kitchen and fished out another wine glass. She returned, topped it up—high—with a red wine, and handed it to her. “Now, tell me. What it is you two found to argue about at a silly ball?”
Maddie sipped the wine and was astonished by how delicious it was. Her gaze flew to the label. Ah. French—of course.
“She objected to a woman she saw me with, who I didn’t know and had no interest in knowing. She warned me off.”
“And then?”
