Elena scoured the page. Just a shallow profile about the CQ editor’s style, beauty, leadership, and, Christ, genius. The puff-piece was designed, no doubt, to take the heat off her circulation figures.

Perry tapped a paragraph. “Here’s where the bile begins.”

Unlike some, I’m not into fickle fads. You won’t see me having a desperate, midlife-crisis Sapphic fling with my empty-headed assistant-turned-reporter to feel young or relevant. I also don’t need the obscene trappings of success to prove I’m powerful. What would I want with a round, monolithic office and a helipad, any more than I need some ambitious, gold-digger lesbian lover? I’m as classic as my Jimmy Choos. I’ve been around longer than any other fashion magazine editor, and I will endure long after certain others get bored and move on to their next toy.

Elena stiffened. Of all the nasty, underhanded…

Madeleine hissed in an outraged breath. “She stuck a neon arrow on your head with all those clues. Round office? Helipad?”

Elena didn’t answer. She stared at the insults. Empty-headed assistant-turned-reporter. Ambitious gold-digger. How dare she? Madeleine was one of the most clever, insightful people Elena had ever met. She cared about people more than money. She was kind, decent, and loved with her whole heart. “I’ll kill her,” Elena hissed. “How dare she say this about you? I’ll sue her into the ground. Get me Felicity!”

Madeleine’s hand came out to latch onto Elena’s forearm. “Hey? Take a breath for a sec? Look, I know she crossed a line. But let’s not do some knee-jerk thing. Let’s talk first.”

“She called you empty headed.” Rage filled Elena. “A gold-digger. My mid-life crisis fling! I’m apparently desperate?”

Perry’s cheeks darkened, and he looked like he’d rather be anywhere but in the middle of this.

“Fuck it,” Elena snarled, “I don’t care what people say about me. God knows I collect insulting nicknames. But she attacked you.”

“Um, I’m not sure you’ve focused on the big thing here,” Madeleine cut in. “She also outed you.”

Elena paused. Oh. Her brain had skated right over that. Well, hell. She and Madeleine had never addressed their relationship. It was obvious to her valued staff members, such as Perry. But they’d never discussed officially coming out. “She outed you too,” Elena murmured.

“I’m just some Australian freelance reporter. But you’re…you. Emmanuelle was obviously hoping shareholders would choke on their cornflakes and see you as a lightweight flake having some scandalous fling.”

Elena glowered. “Nothing she said is true.” God, why had she never properly discussed any of this with Madeleine before? It had been so easy to hide themselves away at the ends of the earth in Sydney and forget their private life was newsworthy. “You are no fling,” Elena said heatedly. “I’m…a lesbian. This isn’t some experiment. What she said has no truth.”

Madeleine wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “I know.” She glanced at Perry. “We know.”

“We do,” he said kindly. “Most people will see through what she wrote as the bitter, petty revenge it is. The problem is that ‘most’ people isn’t ‘all’. This could be harmful if left to fester.”

“But if we sue,” Madeleine said, “it looks like we’re saying we think our relationship is shameful or wrong.”

Elena ground her teeth. “I can’t believe this. Lecoq loses the circulation wars, so she shreds me personally? Defames us as air-headed and desperate?”

“She did much worse than that.” Perry said thoughtfully. “She outed you. I don’t mean she outed you, which is bad enough. She’s outed you. It can be seen as homophobic violence given how dangerous outing can be for some. So a woman heading a magazine about fashion—the gayest industry on earth—just committed homophobia because she was pissy she’d been beaten professionally. Now how do you think that’ll play in our world?”

Madeleine gave a slow smile. “Oh…dear. That’s true. Perry? Could you give Elena and me five minutes?”

“Sure.” He disappeared.

“What has crossed that furtive mind of yours?” Elena asked.

“That depends. How would you feel about being outed in a big way?”

“I thought I already was.” Elena folded her arms.

“Please, The New York Daily Commute’s readership barely gets above a hundred and fifty thousand on a good day, and only then because it’s given away on street corners. Do you think even ten percent of people will read that Lecoq crap on their subway ride? They’ll flick through news and sport, if that. What I’m asking is how you’d feel if you woke up tomorrow, and everyone knew.”

“I…” Elena hesitated as she turned that over. Her conservative Polish-American parents had likely worked her out years ago but were sticking to “don’t ask-don’t tell”. Not that she was close to them. Her most intimate friends, well, friend—Perry—already knew. So…that just left herself. Being talked about and criticised were nothing new given her job. But none of it had ever been so personal. “What of you?” Elena dodged. “Won’t people wonder if you got ahead thanks to dating me? Lecoq’s mud could stick.”

Madeleine snorted. “You mightn’t have noticed, but I made a point of never writing for any of your mastheads. As me for personally? Everyone in my life knows and is cool. Mum thinks you’re adorable by the way. That’s hilarious.”

“Adorable? Me?” Elena stared in astonishment.

“Yup.” Madeleine snickered.

“Does she know my reputation? The names I’m called? They’re not unfounded.”

“She knows. She still thinks you’re adorable—has done so ever since you got me that birthday cupcake.”

Elena sagged. “You’re both as mad as each other. I never could intimidate you even the slightest.”

“Nope.” Madeleine grinned. “Don’t know why you even bothered. So in answer to your question, I’d be honoured to be outed as yours.” She added softly, “Now stop stalling and tell me: Is this a big deal for you?”

“Professionally? Once, I might have thought it was a disaster. But after today’s figures? Hell, they’re lucky to have me.”

“Damn straight.” Madeleine chuckled. “Sooo….did you just convince yourself? Or do you still have doubts?”

Elena sighed. “I always have doubts. But that’s me. I always ensure I’ve thought of all angles. It’s what makes me so successful. I live with doubts.”

“And personally?”

“I’ve loved having you all to myself. It’s been wonderful not having to share you with the world, our secret. But I’m not ashamed of us.”

Madeleine nodded. “All right. So, I do have a plan. It’s a subtle way to point out the error of Emmanuelle’s ways and possibly spark a grovelling apology—while you stay above it all.”

“Oh?” Elena liked the sound of that a great deal.

“Let’s get Perry in here to run it past him too.”

A moment later, the art director returned with a pensive look on his face. His gaze scraped the whole room, as though fearing there might be blood on the walls. He paused at the champagne bottle on the desk, shifted his gaze, and then squinted at something by the windows.

Elena followed his eye. Oh. Yes, well, he hadn’t given her much time, had he? Or, rather, Madeleine hadn’t.

“Is that…?” He pointed at Elena’s crumpled thong.

“You’d be well advised not to finish that thought.” Elena glowered at him, willing a blush not to rise on her face.

Perry snorted. “Celebrating earlier, were we?”

Elena tossed him a death glare.

Madeleine laughed hard.