“Felicity, pull up the contract on Hudson Metro News,” Elena calls out to her from her glass office. “Time we think big.”
That little flea-bitten boot-scraping of a newspaper? How is that thinking big? Curiosity floods Felicity. She’s been to its waterlogged, smelly nether reaches near the Hudson River, and there’s nothing remotely revolutionary nor interesting about the commuter rag.
But Elena is often mysterious about such things. She rarely explains much, so Felicity never knows what her boss is up to next—her mind whirs far beyond that of mere mortals. Felicity’s sure that whatever it is, her plan will be exceptional.
It doesn’t matter that Elena doesn’t confide in her, she reminds herself. It’s just good being this close to the action.
Felicity’s thirty-six, has quit smoking, is professionally satisfied, and is thoroughly bisexual, thank you very much.
She never did make partner.
And now she no longer cares.
# # #
ALIENS OF NEW YORK
Maddie Grey took a centering breath and tried to suppress her nerves. She could do this. This was just a book launch, right? Just some random collection of the blogs she’d written while homesick and miserable as a graveyard-shift reporter more than two years ago.
She gazed out the window at the New York streets below. In her mind, she was back at her old Hudson Metro News office, staring down at the bagel streetcart, suicidal bicycle couriers, and snaking yellow cabs with their winking red taillights.
This was where she’d first tried to make it as a reporter since arriving from Sydney. She was standing on the exact spot she’d failed.
Of course, it was all different now. Her struggling commuter rag had been gobbled up by Bartell Corporation, then knocked down and turned into the Hudson Shard—1,200 feet of vast, gleaming office space, a building as sleek and beautiful as the woman behind it.
On the ground floor sat a bookstore/café that, in a matter of minutes now, would be the site of the launch of Maddie’s first book. She still had to pinch herself to believe that a major publishing house had asked for the rights to her whimsical collection of blogs on life, loneliness, and drowning in a city everyone else seemed to love.
Book boxes stamped Aliens of New York surrounded her, along with stacks of other novels the bookstore had no space for downstairs. The smell of freshly printed ink wasn’t that far removed from that of her old paper, where she’d hunched over her desk turning late-breaking stories, obits, and crime stats into something interesting for the next day’s commuter crowd.
Her publishing house’s publicist, Alicia Keen, had blown in fifteen minutes ago, deposited Maddie in this storage room with a foldout chair and a view, told her to relax, and announced that a crowd was building in the bookstore, one that included several influential book reviewers.
Maddie still didn’t quite understand why her blogs had captivated the online attention they had, let alone earned a buzz when the book deal had been announced.
Alicia reappeared, eyes gleaming with excitement. She blew out a breath. “Almost ready for you. I must say, there are a lot of finance reporters downstairs.”
“What? Why? My blogs were about emotions, not business.”
“Yes, well, darling, there’s this absurd rumor that’s spread like wildfire that a VIP would be making an appearance.” Alicia rolled her eyes. “I mean, it’s silly. Why would a media mogul and fashion-editing icon of Elena Bartell’s international standing bother with a…” She faded out, realizing her mistake.
“A weird set of blogs like mine?” Maddie replied dryly.
“I was going to say a small, esoteric book of blogs, darling.”
Maddie grinned. “Nice save.”
“Well.” Alicia looked flummoxed. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Your book is fabulous; of course it is. I loved it!”
Uh-huh.
“But Ms. Bartell is insanely busy,” Alicia rushed on. “She spends most of her time in Sydney these days. It’s likely that she’s not even in town!”
Maddie grinned. “I heard she was.” And she’d seen her, felt her, kissed her, and a few other things that would doubtlessly scandalize Alicia Keen and the greater population of New York if they knew.
Maddie’s secret relationship with Elena had led to some awkward moments at times, especially lately when it came to Maddie’s book. There had been much confusion from her publishing house when Bartell Corp had, out of the blue, offered to host the launch of the Aliens of New York blog collection at its popular Hudson Shard Bookstore. Then there had been utter bewilderment when the media corporation had told Maddie’s publisher it would be promoting Aliens of New York in all its newspapers and magazines globally.
Privately, between kisses and mumbles about nepotism, Maddie had protested Elena’s decision, only to be cut off by Elena’s fierce declaration that it was a business decision.
“Excellence deserves to be celebrated, Madeleine,” Elena had said, her breath hot against Maddie’s ear. “And I won’t debate this. It’s done.”
It might have been done, but no one at the publishing house could make sense of it.
Alicia shook her head, causing a dramatic bounce of hoop earrings. “Look, just don’t expect to see Ms. Bartell today. I know you once worked for her, and that’s probably what’s fueling the rumors, but you were her assistant for barely five minutes; am I right, darling?”
“Yep.” Maddie hid her smile.
“Exactly! Would she even be able to pick you out of a lineup given how many assistants she goes through? Pfft. It would be lovely of course, if she did drop by. What a boost that would be! But, I mean, really, why would she? Trust me: I deal with that type a lot. The Tiger Shark and her sharp little teeth wouldn’t be caught dead in here.”
Alicia leaned over and tucked the tag down in the back of Maddie’s blouse. “There, all set.” She patted Maddie’s shoulder. “I’m glad you went with this. So much better than that grunge T-shirt you threatened to wear. You weren’t serious, were you, darling? No, don’t answer that. Now, I’ll just head back downstairs and make sure everything’s shipshape. I’ll come and get you when we’re due to start.”
At the door, she hesitated. “And just in case the rumor is true, could I please ask that you don’t act so…Australian? You can be a bit overfamiliar at times. Very…down-to-earth. Oh, it’s refreshing—I mean that in a good way—but I doubt a woman of Elena Bartell’s reputation and status would appreciate someone who…” Alicia paused. “Well, you know.”
“Right.” Maddie bit the inside of her cheek. “I’ll do my best.”
“Lovely.” Alicia beamed. “Okay, I must finalize things. Back soon, darling.” She disappeared in a rustle of skirts and a clinking homage to seventies jewelry.
Maddie finally released the laugh she’d been desperately holding in. Oh, the Tiger Shark was indeed the possessor of a fine set of teeth. They’d gently nibbled along Maddie’s thigh at five this morning to take her mind off her nerves about today. By the end of it, Maddie couldn’t even remember her own name, let alone that of her book.
“Madeleine?” The door clicked open and shut behind Maddie before a familiar warmth pressed itself into her back. “It’s only me.”
Funny how she said that. There was no “only” about Elena Bartell.
Maddie leaned back against Elena, inhaling the scent that was distinctly her. “Do you recognize where we are?” Maddie asked after a few moments of basking in Elena’s presence.
Elena peered over Maddie’s shoulder into the street below. “Should I? Beyond being in the same location where your old newspaper used to be?”
“Remember when you moved into Hudson Metro’s office for a month? This was your view from your window. I should know; I gazed into your office often enough. For reasons.” Maddie gave a small laugh.
“Ah. You know, I don’t think I ever looked outside even once. My attention was fixed on my redesign plans…and, occasionally, on this maddening junior crime reporter who sat outside my office at crazy hours.”
“Oh, her.” It still surprised Maddie that Elena had noticed her at all in those days.
Threading her arms tighter around Maddie’s waist, Elena asked, “So what do you see out there?”
“Memories. How alone I felt. Me failing in a city everyone dreams of being in. It was hard, feeling too far from home and being unable to make friends when I worked crazy late hours. I craved connection.”
“Feeling isolated in a city of millions?” Elena murmured. “Mm. I think that’s why I loved your blog, why I was drawn to you. Your words resonated.”
