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 Our services to CQ are withdrawn effective immediately.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 diminutive deputy squaring off against the angular 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