Power and intimidation oozed from the New York penthouse office of Bartell Corp’s international headquarters, with its sleek round floors, chrome, and tinted glass.
Maddie Grey padded along the thick carpeted floor, one hand tight around a bottle of champagne, in search of the fashion-editing world’s newest conqueror.
The first time she’d been here, almost two and a half years ago, Maddie had felt like a boot scraping, out of place and lost. Tonight, wearing a blue T-shirt, leather jacket, and worn jeans, Maddie wasn’t a much better fit, but she was no longer awed. This space was now as familiar to her as the imposing woman who ruled it. Elena Bartell: Media mogul and the founder, President, and Chief Operating Officer of Bartell Corporation.
Elena didn’t stalk the corridors of this building often anymore, having divested the day-to-day running of her company to her deputy. Her heart and focus had shifted, as had her home base. These days she was engaged in a furious magazine war against iconic fashion bible, Catwalk Queen. Elena had been in the trenches, from Sydney to London, trying to make her fashion magazine, Style International, the world’s number one.
Eighteen months later, it was official. The latest circulation figures had landed a few hours ago while Elena had been holding Bartell Corp’s annual general meeting. Style hadn’t just beaten its rival, it’d ground it under heel.
This was definitely cause for celebration.
Maddie found Elena scribbling notes at her desk, still wearing a cocktail dress from the party after the AGM, as if she’d been distracted and forgotten to change. Maddie leaned against the door, appreciating her lover’s dress—a scarlet second skin with a plunging neckline that hinted at the delights within.
Dear God. Elena did wear red well. It reminded her of a particularly sinful garnet dress that had undone Maddie once. She’d been a junior night-shift crime reporter and had made a total fool of herself, face-planting in front of her then-boss. And Elena had seemed…amused.
“Hey, sexy. When you didn’t come home, I brought the party to you.” Maddie placed the champagne on Elena’s glass, designer desk.
Elena’s head lifted in surprise. Regret darted into her eyes as she glanced at the clock. “I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to be so long.”
“Time flies when you’re vanquishing your mortal enemies.”
“Now there’s a pleasant thought.” Elena’s eyes lit up. She tapped a sheet of numbers. “Almost as pleasant as my figures.”
“Well, I do like one of your figures in particular.” Maddie’s gaze lingered. “God, that dress. It reminds me of a certain other creation.”
“You remember that?”
“Is that a trick question? I’m astonished I could still walk after the first time I saw you in it.”
“If I recall, you spent more time on your face than walking.” Elena rose, smoothing the dress down her hips and thighs. “I also recall you watching me in the reflection of the window.” Moving toward it, her hips gave a languid sway. “I was standing right here, staring outside.”
Maddie came up behind her, close enough to feel Elena’s warmth. “Gazing at me in the glass you mean.”
Elena’s eyes twinkled at her in the reflection. “I distinctly remember the impressive New York City skyline.”
“Uh-uh.” Maddie pressed herself into her lover’s back. “Fess up: What were you thinking that night?”
“Truthfully?” Elena’s expression in the reflection became distant. “I was transfixed by how hungry your eyes seemed. You surprised me.”
“And me. I had an epiphany that night.”
“Oh?”
“Mmm. How hot my boss was. How I wanted my hot boss. And a few other unspeakable things.”
“Unspeakable?” Elena’s voice dropped a register lower.
“Mm-hmm. You know…” Maddie licked her lips. “We could re-create that night. I may have suggested to Tony on the front desk not to interrupt you except for emergencies.”
“That seems somewhat presumptuous.” Elena’s voice warmed.
“It’s late. Barely anyone’s left in the building.” Maddie paused and added slyly, “I mean…unless you have other plans?”
Elena pretended to consider that. “Well, I am rather busy. One doesn’t destroy CQ’s circulation in a day. It must be ongoing. There’s planning.”
Maddie dropped a kiss at the base of Elena’s neck, then another under her ear. “True, but today you’re a golden goddess who can ignore her work and accept her glorious reward.”
“What form does this reward take?” Elena’s voice was low and interested.
Maddie slid her hands down that sleek dress, and then reversed course, bringing the hem up with her. Her fingers slid to between Elena’s thighs. “Well, the usual accolades and tributes. Plus sexual favours, naturally.” She rubbed Elena’s thong pointedly.
Elena’s mouth parted slightly. Her eyes became half-lidded, and there was no mistaking the arousal in her expression.
Fingers dancing and teasing, Maddie listened to the shift in Elena’s breathing. Oh, how she loved this bit, where Elena wouldn’t ask for more, not yet; because she enjoyed the games and foreplay as much as the sex. Elena’s jaw clenched, biting back a gasped moan, and her eyes pleaded for things Elena’s lips would never ask for.
Maddie played with her lover for long minutes, soaking in the naked want on the beautiful face in the window: high cheekbones, pale skin, jet-black, sculpted short hair, and arching eyebrows that always seemed mocking. But there was nothing but desire in those hooded eyes tonight. All for her.
She loved seeing Elena in a way no one else did. Emotionally naked and vulnerable. Mine.
“Take this off for me.” Maddie tapped Elena’s soaked thong.
Sometimes Maddie ordered Elena to do intimate things just to watch her wordlessly obey. That was arousing. Telling the woman who controlled almost a billion-dollar empire what she had to do.
Elena always seemed to know what that meant for Maddie. That this was where Maddie had power too. After a delicious pause, Elena reached under her dress and slid her lace thong down. She met Maddie’s eye and her need was clear.
“Madeleine.” She drew out the word until it sounded French and naughty, becoming a demand. Elena’s way of saying, enough playing.
Smiling at her impatience, Maddie reached for her soft thigh. She trailed higher. Without a barrier, Maddie’s fingers moved easily across swollen skin.
“Tell me something,” Elena said, voice breathless. Her eyes became far too knowing.
A shiver skittered down Maddie’s spine at that taunting, devilish gaze. Uh-oh. Elena did love to fight back, to try to wrestle the power away from Maddie when she felt her own control slipping too fast.
“What did you wish you could have done that night two years ago?” Elena asked. “When you watched me in this window?”
Maddie parted Elena’s folds and slid her fingers through wet flesh. “That night, I wished you’d kissed me. Pushed me against a wall and kissed me senseless.” Her nipples tightened at the reminder. God, that night.
“Is that all you wanted?” Elena rolled her hips forward, pressing harder into Maddie’s fingers. She quivered and bucked into Maddie and seemed to struggle to keep her arousal in check as she finished the deliberate words designed to crack Maddie’s restraint.
If only Elena knew how pitifully close Maddie already was.
“You just wanted a kiss from me that night?” Elena’s hands landed on the window, bracing herself. Her fingers shifted a little, leaving steamy, smeared imprints on the glass.
“Well, maybe my fantasies included you flinging me on your desk, tearing off my jeans, and—”
“On my desk?” Elena’s eyebrows lifted to cocky heights. “My desk is only for work, Madeleine.”
Jesus. The soft, playful timbre of her voice would kill her yet.
“You know that,” Elena finished, adding a soft growl as Maddie pressed harder.
She did know that. It’s why it was so fun to tweak her about desk sex. Maddie smirked, then dipped inside her. “God, Elena, you’re so wet. So needy.”
Elena bucked into Maddie’s hand and muttered: “I am not needy.”
Sure she wasn’t. Maddie lifted her other hand up the dress, tracing heated skin within the deep vee. She slipped her hand under the silken material and lifted Elena’s bare breast outside the dress. They gazed at the sight in the window.
Maddie’s breath hitched. It seemed so naughty, so daring, that pale, soft breast lying against a blood-red dress, an erect nipple crinkling in the air. Jesus. Maddie rubbed the tight nub while moving her other hand through coarse, trimmed hairs, to Elena’s clit, circling it. She shifted her legs trying to alleviate the rising heat between her own thighs. One touch, hell, one pointed look from Elena, and she’d fly apart.
Elena moaned.
“Not needy? Are you sure?” Maddie tongued the salty skin of Elena’s neck until the other woman shivered. Then she drove her fingers deep inside her, curling them up, at the same time pinching her nipple hard.
Elena choked out a gasp, pushed a hand between her legs, and rubbed herself frantically. She shuddered, trembled, and slumped her forehead into the glass with a pained groan. “Oh God. That was… Oh, Madeleine, I had to. Couldn’t wait.”
Maddie would never get used to this arousing sight, no matter how many times they’d made love. Elena unable to stop herself. Elena lost. Whimpering. Finally, irrevocably undone. She smiled. “I love it when you do that. Lose control so completely you can’t help yourself.”
Maddie withdrew her fingers, pausing to spread the wetness around Elena’s most intimate flesh until she twitched again.
Turning Elena around to face her, Maddie kissed her deeply. The response was hungry, heated, and arousing.
When they parted, Elena’s mussed hair, smudged lipstick, and bare breast pushed Maddie right to the edge. Her swallow was shaky.
Elena’s smile was cocksure. She trailed a fingertip down Maddie’s neck. “Now then. What to do with you?”
“The desk?” Maddie croaked hopefully, already knowing the answer, as she unbuttoned her jeans.
“Absolutely not.” Elena’s cool gaze raked Maddie’s form as if deciding exactly how to devour her. “How would I ever be able to work if all I could picture was me debauching you all over it?” Pushing a hand inside Maddie’s jeans, she cupped her heat through the boy shorts. “Well, well. Speaking of needy.”
“It’s not like you work a lot on that desk, though,” Maddie protested weakly, as Elena rubbed with determination. Her underwear was soaked through. She was helpless whenever Elena’s fingers got anywhere near her. Maddie couldn’t get enough, and her moans were soon filling the room. Just her touch, combined with the thought that Elena might consider flinging her down on her desk, where she ruled her empire… Gah. “Style Sydney’s desk gets most of your attention these days,” Maddie gasped out. “We could just…”
Elena pressed against her clit with unerring accuracy, and oh God, Maddie was about to…
The desk phone started ringing.
Both women froze.
Maddie frowned. She’d been clear to Security about no interruptions.
Elena yanked her hand out of Maddie’s jeans, adjusted her breast back into her dress, and stalked to the desk, irritation sharp in her stride. Wiping her fingers on a tissue, she then stabbed the speaker button. “Yes?”
“Ms Bartell, sorry to bother you, I have Perry Marks here to see you. He says he has urgent business. Shall I send him up?”
“One moment.” Elena stabbed the Hold button. She glanced over at Maddie. A speculative, dangerous look crossed her face. Elena perched on the edge of the desk and leaned back, which pushed her ample breasts hard against red silk. “I suppose I could take you on the desk,” she said as though considering it. “Spread you out, strip you bare. Splay you before me. Then I’d roll up to you in my chair, lick my way up those delightful thighs, and feast on you. Would you like that? Madeleine?”
Oh fuck. Arousal surged through Maddie. Elena loved to do this to her, describe in detail her erotic plans. She searched Elena’s daring expression and came closer. “Y-you mean now? B-but—”
Elena gave her an imperious look. “Well?” She moved in front of her and rubbed the seam of Maddie’s jeans, hard, between her legs. “Would you like that, Madeleine?”
The pressure and positioning were perfect—as Elena well knew given the look in her eyes.
With a sharp, startled cry, Maddie came on the spot. Her knees and thighs trembled as warmth spread through her nerve endings. “You’d actually agree to that?” Maddie gasped out. “Next time, I mean?”
Elena’s smile was equal parts triumph, amusement, and delight. “Of course not. My desk is for work purposes only.”
Maddie groaned. God damn it. Elena could play her like a fiddle. She used her power so perfectly in their sex life, with such precision, it should be a crime. Maddie both hated and loved how well Elena knew her weaknesses and every turn-on. It was arousing, thrilling, and probably a little pathetic if she bothered to care, which she absolutely didn’t. Maddie was, quite simply, putty in Elena’s hands, and they both knew it.
Heat flooded her, and only part of it was to do with that magnificent orgasm.
Elena smirked, dropped a kiss on Maddie’s cheek, and then stabbed her phone. Her voice was stern and dry: “Send my global art director up.”
* * *
Elena made it into her chair with seconds to spare when the elevator dinged announcing Perry’s arrival. Madeleine—teasing, intoxicating Madeleine—had insisted on distracting her with further passionate kisses, leaving barely any time to fix her appearance. Elena squirmed in her chair, self-conscious about what was missing, and darted an appalled look toward where a tangle of thong still lay. She hadn’t had time to reclaim it. Still, those kisses had been quite something. She prayed Perry wouldn’t notice what lay at the foot of her office window.
Madeleine followed her gaze and mouthed “sorry”, just as Perry swished into the office in an elegant, lilac, Brioni suit.
He stood in front of Elena and ran a hand over his dark-skinned bald pate. “What did you say to Tony for him to give me the third degree about sending me up?” He almost pouted.
“A better question is what has you in here so late? And what constitutes enough of an emergency for him to override a Do Not Disturb?” Elena drawled. “Especially after Bartell Corp’s dividend that’ll see half its shareholders off to Aspen, and a certain fashion mag’s destruction.” She leaned forward. “Do not tell me you’re here to ruin my famously good mood with bad news.”
He snorted at that characterization of her mood. “Yes, well, it’s CQ I’m here about.” He sagged a little. “Emmanuelle Lecoq specifically.”
Elena’s pulse kicked up at the mention of the rival magazine’s editor. “What’s she done now?”
He opened his mouth, then caught sight of the visitor’s sofa. “Sorry, Maddie, didn’t see you there. Hello.”
“Hey, Perry. Great to see you again.” Madeleine grinned, and her genuine affection for the man was infused in her voice.
Then again, her warm, affectionate lover seemed to like pretty much everyone. Elena could not relate to that in the least. She folded her arms. “Perhaps if you just spat it out.”
“Fine.” Perry reached into his briefcase. “You know I have contacts everywhere. This is out tomorrow.” A newspaper hit her desk.
Madeleine joined Elena to read over her shoulder.
‘NO PASSING FADS FOR ME!’ LECOQ DISHES DIRT
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.
And the planning began.
* * *
Four days later, Maddie nervously eyed the Features Editor for the esteemed US Review magazine she was sitting opposite. The woman was in her sixties, with a sharp face and a weary expression.
“To recap,” Dorothy Follows said, “you wish to change that brilliant pitch you emailed last month and instead write something on…” she consulted her notes, “…the ethics of outing gay people?”
“More than that.” Maddie leaned in. “I’ll talk to people who’ve been outed and how that affected their life. Some celebrities, political figures, maybe a coach on a high school team, an ethicist. I’ll ask where we draw the line in a nation that prides itself on free speech.”
Fallows regarded her. “An interesting concept, but no.”
Maddie’s heart sank. “But it’s so wrong.”
“It is. It’d be like running a story on the ethical question of racism. Why would we, when the answer’s obvious?”
“It’s, um, topical?” Maddie said weakly.
“How so? Who’s been outed?”
Maddie fidgeted and wondered if she should be honest or…
“You know you could have just pitched me an exclusive on you and Bartell if you wanted to tackle Emmanuelle Lecoq’s outing you.”
Maddie blinked, stunned.
“Glossy mags are a small world, Ms Grey.” Fallows looked amused. “We’re well aware, for instance, of who always goes to media events together. And then you coming in with this pitch, right after Lecoq’s story, well…”
Oh. Maddie’s cheeks burned.
“So I can offer a cover for you and Bartell’s…” she twirled her finger “grand romance.”
Maddie shifted uncomfortably. “That’s not what I had in mind.”
“Oh, I’m well aware. You intended to embarrass Lecoq with your evils-of-outing story, without getting any mud on you or your lover. Right?” She arched an eyebrow.
“I just think she should understand what she’s done.”
“So don’t go soft. Own it. Get out in front of the story; spin it your way so that the vacuum won’t get filled with someone else’s lies and innuendo. Yes, you’ll have to put yourselves out there, get muddy, but it’s a better result: You set the message.”
“Elena’s private. She’d never—”
“Even if she says no, I’m still offering you the chance to tell your story.”
“But I’m a no one.”
“You really think the woman who turned the head of the world’s most mysterious and ruthless media baron is a no one? Look, Lecoq’s rumours are now out there. They’ll keep swirling until they’re addressed.”
“Paparazzi have been staking out our home and Elena’s office,” Maddie conceded with a huff. “Since the day that damned story hit.”
“Shocking,” Fallows said dryly. “Can you do it by the thirty-first? I’ll need it that soon if I’m to capitalize on Lecoq’s stunning idiocy.”
“I haven’t agreed yet.”
“So think about it and get back to me ASAP.”
Maddie nodded. “I’ll let you know.”
* * *
Elena was in a foul mood, having dodged more intrusive reporters on her way into her office building. Damn them. It would only get worse when Madeleine’s story came out. Elena had dearly wanted to say no, but she’d been helpless in the face of her lover’s pleading look.
She wouldn’t be involved herself, of course. The very idea of explaining herself to strangers who had no right to her life made her shudder. But Madeleine would make it work.
“Tell the truth for both of us,” Elena had told her. “Just remember, if you make me sound even the slightest bit soft…” She’d pursed her lips in a veiled threat that only made Madeleine laugh.
Elena wished it were over already. Instead, each day the rumours intensified.
The word from Perry was that CQ’s staff were in near open revolt about Lecoq’s article.
“I can see why Véronique calls the media cafards,” Felicity Simmons hissed, as she stalked up to Elena’s desk. “Your stalkers might be few, but they are persistent as scuttling roaches.”
Elena glanced up at her Deputy Chief Operations Officer. While the highly strung former lawyer had lost some of her skittishness in the past year since her promotion, she still reminded Elena of a well-bred dressage horse—all tight ribbons, flounce, and attitude. “So, what calamity brings you to my floor? I thought you were organizing Hudson Shard’s first anniversary party.”
“I’m multi-tasking.” Felicity slapped a newspaper page down. “And you’ll want to see this.”
A full-page advertisement from The New York Times stared back.
We, the following fashion designers, photographers, advertisers, artists, and models declare a boycott against CQ Magazine while Emmanuelle Lecoq remains editor. As proud allies or members of the LGBT+ community, we feel outing a rival editor reveals a serious lack of character and judgment. Further, outing anyone who has never harmed the queer community is an act of violence and hate. It is irresponsible, dangerous, and something we cannot support. Our services to CQ are withdrawn effective immediately.
Signed…
A list of names ran down the page, some famous. At the end were social media hashtags: #FireLecoq and #boycottCQ.
“Eighty-seven names,” Felicity nodded with satisfaction. “Plus dozens more boycotting unofficially.”
Elena couldn’t believe it. “CQ made half of those careers. To boycott the hand that feeds them is astonishing. I had no idea outing was this despised.”
“Elena, it’s not just the principle. They admire your work, respect Style, and are disgusted at how Lecoq treated you. They’re fuming.” Felicity’s expression darkened. “My God, I’d happily poke her eyeballs out myself if I could reach that high.”
Elena smiled at the thought of her deputy squaring off against the towering Lecoq. “Whose idea was the boycott? Yours?”
With a spectacular eye-roll, Felicity said: “It may astonish you to know I’m actually rather busy running Bartell Corporation for you. I don’t have time to manage campaigns. Although I must say it’s good someone’s finally standing up to that ego-puffed cow. She’s been untouchable for far too long.”
Turning her gaze back to the ad, Elena said: “If not you, then who? Madeleine?”
“Oh, please. We both know your Australian is far too nice.”
Elena’s lips twitched. “Yes, well. I’m not denying Madeleine’s mystifying eternal niceness.”
Felicity snickered softly. “It was your favourite designers. The Duchamps. Apparently it amused Véronique to put the ‘noxious cafard’ in her place. Natalii supplied the hashtags, including a few ruder ones not fit for print. They’re trending like crazy. I hear Lecoq’s sweating hard now advertisers are pulling out.”
“Cockroaches do have a habit of surviving the apocalypse, though.”
“Or not.” Felicity called up a page on her iPad. “US Review just tweeted a story about the CQ boycott. They have nine million followers. Vanity Fair followed suit. Another five million.”
“Oh. Dear.” Elena trusted her smile was as evil as it felt.
“Right? Check out CQ’s share price today on the back of the boycotts, low circulation, negative publicity, and advertiser withdrawals.” She held up her tablet again.
Elena stared at the plunging arrow. “Seriously?” That really was low. A daring plan suddenly hit. Her fingers tingled. “Can you get me Tom Withers? I might need to make a large outlay soon.”
Felicity’s eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t.” Her voice was almost a whisper. “Would you?”
“Wouldn’t I?” A hint of mischief laced Elena’s tone. “Tell no one. Speed is of the essence.”
Felicity’s expression was awestruck. “Yes, Elena.” Her voice came out a dry gasp.
* * *
Maddie was beside herself the day her article was out in the US Review. She’d barely slept the previous night, wondering if Elena would hate it. A few hours spent staring at the long, fluttering lashes and quiet intake of breath of the woman asleep beside her hadn’t answered the question. Her lover had refused to read it first, saying only that she trusted Maddie.
The hardest thing had been balancing Elena’s need to be seen as fierce and tough with all the ways Maddie knew she could be generous and kind.
So Maddie had written the truth: How they’d met. Late-night chats in an empty newspaper office. How they’d come to understand each other, two watchful souls connecting, despite being worlds apart. And that gut-wrenching day Elena chose business over Maddie.
Clutching the glossy magazine, Maddie stared at the cover in confusion.
Elena was pictured with the headline: Elena Bartell on love, life, and power: ‘It would be a grave error to take me on’.
What? Maddie hadn’t quoted Elena saying that. She flipped to the story and then gasped. Two first-person articles were sitting beside each other.
The Mogul.
The Journalist.
Elena had written something after all? Since when?
Elena’s piece was a dry, humorous recounting of meeting a “style-deficient reporter from Sydney” and finding her manner to be “blunt to the point of interesting” and her company to be “acceptable despite her refusal to do anything I demanded”.
It was funny. God, Elena so rarely showed this side to the world. The piece also made it crystal clear they’d never been involved while Maddie worked for Elena.
The article also explained how Elena had married because she was expected to. And then she’d found love where she hadn’t expected to. It finished with an explanation.
“I write this piece solely to correct the record. To suggest Madeleine Grey is brainless or a fling is disgusting. Madeleine is an exceptional, award-winning journalist. She is kind, honest, amusing, and beautiful. Madeleine is a remarkable woman whom I love and wish to have in my life forever. That’s all there is to say. The end.”
Holy shit. Maddie grabbed her phone, dialled Elena, and croaked out one word. “Why?”
“Ah, you’ve seen it.”
“You didn’t say a word! And what happened to you not commenting?”
“I didn’t tell you because you might talk me out of it. And I did it because it occurred to me that whatever you’d write would all be about making me sound good. It wouldn’t enter your head to correct the record on you, would it? Having read your piece, I was right.”
“I…oh.”
“So I decided to correct the error.” Elena’s amusement was evident. “Meanwhile, my board issued a statement this morning backing me, condemning Lecoq’s smears, and pointing out Bartell Corp’s stellar success.”
“How does that feel?” Maddie asked quietly. She knew this was what Elena secretly feared: Making a mistake that could see her empire ripped from her. It made sense, since it had happened before, decades ago. Lecoq had stolen Elena’s promised editorship when they’d both worked at CQ. Overnight, Elena’s short career had ended.
“It feels…acceptable.” Background voices murmured and then Elena spoke again. “I was in a meeting with Perry and Felicity when you rang. They’re being very complimentary about your article.” She sighed. “Really Madeleine, did you have to make me sound nice?”
“You are nice!”
“Many would dispute that.”
More disjointed talking. “Felicity has asked me to convey to you that your article was accurate, nuanced, beautiful, and you should stop being smug.”
“What makes her think I’m being—”
“She is quite sure you are.” Elena chuckled. “I’ve shooed them out now. Madeleine, I want to say that Felicity wasn’t wrong. What you wrote was beautiful. I’m constantly amazed you see me that way.”
“Elena, it’s the truth.”
“To you.”
“Is there any other kind? And you can talk! You told the whole world you want me in your life forever.”
“I was merely being accurate.” Elena sniffed for effect. “I’m a big believer in truth in publishing.”
Maddie laughed. “Forever’s a long time. You should probably put a ring on it.”
There was a silence as they both digested Maddie’s startling comment.
“Oh…” Maddie faded out. Fuck. “I mean…”
“Did you mean that?” Elena asked softly. “You’d be amenable to…you wish to be proposed to?”
Oh, hell yes. “Yeah?” Maddie groaned at herself. “Only, can we not do this over the phone? Because I’ve seriously just made this the worst proposal hint ever.”
“Understood.” Elena sounded delighted. “We will…table this discussion.”
Only Elena could make a future wedding proposal sound like an agenda item.
Maddie laughed. “Sure, yep, table that sucker.” Her phone pinged. “Ooh, someone’s sent me a link to Lecoq’s statement about our US Review article.” She fell silent as she read. “She says she was taken out of context and didn’t out anyone. That’s such bull. You’re the only media mogul with a round office and a helipad.”
“Don’t forget the only media mogul with a hot, young lesbian lover.” Elena chuckled.
“You’re in a weirdly good mood,” Maddie said. “I thought you’d be skittish today with everyone knowing your business. What’s up?”
“Well, aside from being almost proposed to…” Elena’s voice dripped with amusement.
Geez. Maddie would never live this down.
“…the CQ drama hasn’t quite finished. Give it another, hmm, nine or so weeks. It depends on how competent Felicity and Tom are.”
“Elena Bartell, what are you up to?”
“You’ll see.” Her voice was all purr.
* * *
Elena strode into CQ’s gleaming office like she owned it. Of course now that that was actually true—as of an hour ago—it did make the saying all the more delicious.
Bartell Corp had snapped up the freefalling shares at CQ. Her management team had done some fast footwork with key CQ board members to smooth takeover proceedings. And, now, here she stood, with a fifty-one percent stake in CQ Magazine.
Heads snapped around as she passed, curiosity burning. Staff had no clue yet. The news would break within the hour.
The managing director playing escort pointed out a corner office. “That’s Ms Lecoq’s. As per your instructions, she has not been, er, kept in the loop about any of this. I’ll gather the staff for your meeting afterwards.” He strode off.
Elena entered the office filled with shiny trinkets, pop art, framed covers, and appalling yellow and blue decor.
Lecoq’s head shot up, suspicion coating her features. “What the hell? You can’t just barge in here.”
Ignoring her, Elena strolled around the room.
“Look, about the article,” Lecoq said cautiously, “I may have…misspoke. It was a throwaway line. Suddenly there’re boycotts and irate shareholders? Maybe you could spread the word that we’ve sorted this out between us?”
“Why would I do that?” Elena moved to the window and stared outside. “You want me to clean up your mess? You’ve just realized how offensive what you did was after staff, investors, and Twitter all pointed it out?”
“It was a flippant remark.” Lecoq actually sounded flustered. “Come on, Ellie…”
“Your commentary on my life isn’t why I’m here.” Elena turned. “You’re in my chair.”
“Excuse me? This isn’t—”
“Bartell Corporation is the reason CQ’s shares are no longer plummeting. We bought them; you’re welcome. CQ is now my company. And that’s my chair. You’re fired.”
Horror flitted across Lecoq’s features. “B-but…”
Elena felt little sympathy. This woman had ridiculed Madeleine and told the world she was nothing. How fucking dare she? “Effective immediately. Security will pack up your things.”
“All this…because I suggested you’re gay?” Lecoq gaped at her.
Elena’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t be so asinine. I’m not ashamed of who I am. You’re the one who made it seem tawdry.”
“Revenge then? For…losing your job to me years ago?”
“I run a Fortune 500 company now,” Bartell drawled. “I’m fine.”
“So it’s because I hurt the feelings of your piece of fluff?” Malice flitted into her eyes. “You’re all protective because I suggested you screwed your little assistant? How precious!”
Elena inhaled sharply and leaned into Lecoq’s personal space. “You know, you’re nothing to me,” she snapped. “If you’d just kept your mouth shut, none of this would have happened. But you’re not that smart.”
“I’m—”
“No. You’re not. Do you know the only thing more foolish than spreading lies about the woman I love? Spreading lies about who your new publisher loves. And since I don’t allow fools in my employ, don’t bother seeking a job at any Bartell company. Not that I need to blacklist you. No one in fashion will work with you now. You’re toxic. And you did it to yourself.” She straightened. “We’re done.”
With a cold, satisfied smile, Elena swept out of the room.
* * *
Elena signed off on the documents she was reviewing. It was late but she was finally done. She stretched.
A throat cleared.
She glanced up to find Madeleine leaning against her office door frame. She blinked at the sight of her, in a grunge band T-shirt, tight black jeans, and boots. “This is a familiar look. Weren’t you wearing this the first time we met?”
Madeleine sauntered over. “It seemed fitting given what I heard today.”
“Oh?”
“There’s this insane rumour that my beautiful corporate warrior woman defended my honour. She bought out CQ, fired its nasty editor, and then gave the staff a speech. Something about how she’s giving them all a month to prove themselves. And she’s going to base herself there for that time to see what they’re capable of.” She laughed. “Now isn’t that where we came in?”
“Except I don’t recall some garage-band extra getting in the elevator with me today and insulting me.” Elena smirked.
“Argh! I didn’t insult you! As you well know.” Madeleine shook her head. “So tell me, why the stay of execution? You told me this morning that if you hadn’t bought out CQ it’d be bankrupt in a year. Shouldn’t you be holding the last rites?”
“Truthfully?” Elena said. “I just wanted to edit one issue of CQ. Tick it off my bucket list and move on.”
“And then you’re firing them? Is it fair to give staff false hope?”
“It’s not false. They’re being reviewed. I’ve decided to merge CQ and Style. CQ has some excellent writers and designers. The management’s the cancer. Besides, a merger will send a rocket up Style that they can’t be complacent. I can clean house on two magazines.” Her eyes glittered. “Just because I made Style doesn’t give it a free pass.”
Madeleine shook her head. “God, that’s so you.”
She shrugged. It was.
“So,” Madeleine grinned. “You actually did it. Beat CQ.”
“I did.” Satisfaction warmed Elena.
“And all it took was Lecoq outing you.”
“All it took was her coming after you. I have my limits—a fact I pointed out to that diseased raccoon. I fired her for stupidity.”
“You fired her for being mean to me. You’re such a romantic.” Madeleine stole a kiss.
“Lies!” Elena snorted. “My God, though, Lecoq has zero taste. You should have seen her office. I might have to get a flame thrower in before I take over.” There was a thought.
Madeleine slid her arms around her. “I’m really happy for you.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you. Or the Duchamps and their boycott. I might have to send them flowers. A whole houseful.” Her lips curled up.
“That’d go down about as well as last time.” Madeleine laughed.
“Honestly, I never thought I’d ever get back my first dream.”
“And you did. You got the girl, too.”
Elena licked her lips and darted a nervous look at Maddie. “You know, I’ve been thinking. About the proposal you made?” She was pleased how flippant she sounded. She swallowed. Now or never.
“What proposal?”
Elena gave her desk a testing rap.
“Oh!” Madeleine’s eyes widened. “Are you serious? And don’t you dare tease me like last time. That was so cruel promising desk sex and not delivering.”
“About as cruel as you leaving me to attempt a serious conversation with Perry while my thong stared at me from across the room.”
“Okay, that was a little evil of me.”
“So it was on purpose? Distracting me from retrieving it?”
“You deserved it. Torturing me with impossible fantasies.” Madeleine looked unrepentant.
“Hmm.” Elena’s lips twitched. “Perhaps it was a little cruel. I’m prepared to make amends.”
Madeleine’s face lit up. “Are you seriously talking desk sex after all this time?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s something else.” She knocked the desk again, above the drawer. “Open it.”
Madeleine slid open the desk drawer. A velvet box sat inside.
“I promised to ‘table’ something last time,” Elena said. “This counts as a table, does it not?” She held her breath, placed the box between them, and opened it to Madeleine.
Her lover stared at the diamond ring for so long that Elena wondered if she’d made a terrible mistake. Elena had spent an eternity trying to find the right one, even enlisting the services of Perry, who was officially insufferable now. “Don’t you like it?” she asked pensively.
“Are you kidding?” Madeleine’s eyes shone. “I love it. But you know…a beautiful ring like that usually comes with a question.”
“Is that so?”
Madeleine nodded. “Spoiler alert, I’m going to say yes. And then I’m going to kiss you. And then we’re going to have hot fiancée desk sex.”
“Well, now I’m conflicted.” Elena laughed. She held the ring out, and said seriously, “Madeleine Grey, I knew the day we met that you were trouble. How right I was—and how much I needed it. Needed you. I love you. Will you…”
“Yes!” Madeleine slid the ring on and kissed her breathlessly.
“You do realize I didn’t actually ask you anything,” Elena pointed out. Her heart was thundering, her mouth dry, and she couldn’t seem to control her grinning mouth. She’d never felt anything like this before. She was pretty sure it was a sign of true love—or a heart attack.
“Asked and answered.” Madeleine laughed. “Now I’m certain promises were made.” She patted the desk, a gleam in her eye.
“I’m quite sure I didn’t agree to that,” Elena protested, although truthfully, it was the reason she’d proposed in her office: To give Madeleine her fantasy.
Maddie’s T-shirt was already half off her head. “Uh-huh,” came the muffled sound.
With a sigh to hide her mounting excitement, Elena sat back, unbuttoning her silk blouse. She watched appreciatively as Maddie tried to haul her skinny jeans down her legs. “You’re so beautiful,” Elena noted quietly.
Kicking her jeans away, Madeleine grinned. “I love it when you get mushy.”
Elena slid off her blouse and gave an imperious look. “It’s not mush. It’s accuracy. And the truth is you are beautiful.” She lowered her voice. “I love you more than is sane, Madeleine.”
“I love you too.” Madeleine smiled. “And who knew you were so romantic?”
Elena sighed at the frankly preposterous comment and kissed the lie straight off those lips.
# # #