French Runway: 2. Champs Élysées
Title: French Runway 2/3: Champs Elysées
Fandom: The Devil Wears Prada
Rating/Genre: g/femslash, AU
Characters/Pairings: Andy, Miranda, Andy/Nate (not so much…), Emily/Serena, Jacqueline, Marie (oc).
Summary: Andy lives with Nate in Paris, where she works as Jacqueline’s second assistant and life is good. Now, she suddenly finds herself falling head over heals for the editor of American Runway, and things begin to change. In the meantime, Emily discovers an unexpected love of flowers and crêpes, thanks to her doctor… The story alternates between Andy’s and Emily’s point of view.
Word count: 2 745 (this chapter)
Spoilers/Warnings: No.
Notes: Very late fic for punky_96 and fandomaid’s Help Japan auction.
Notes2: Here’s a song called Champs Elysées by Joe Dassin :)
Part one: I Love Paris.
“Oh, but you know that’s not likely to happen with such short notice.” If spoken with conviction, reason usually worked with Jacqueline. “Just because my boyfriend works there it doesn’t mean that I can…”
“But,” Jacqueline interrupted, “I think Miranda would like it very much.”
Andy nodded. Of course. Almost a week had passed, and she knew two things: Miranda was not unlikely to ask the impossible… And Andy was prepared to get it done for her.
She called Nate, and as she had suspected, he said no.
“Andy, do you remember what I told you the last time Jacqueline wanted a table here? When this restaurant is full, it is full, and I can’t do anything about it.”
“I know, but it can’t be impossible. It’s for Miranda.”
“So? Is she the new queen of France or something?”
“No, but she is Miranda Priestly. She’s even more important than Jacqueline. In New York…”
“She’s not in New York now. This is Paris and nobody knows who she is. Everybody knows this restaurant.”
“Everybody knows that restaurant,” Andy said, making a last effort, “because all the VIPs like it because all the food critics adore it, and that makes your boss the greatest VIP of them all. But he still needs all the other VIPs to eat there and contribute to its reputation. He needs people like Miranda. He wants her there. Just ask him, please? For my sake?”
Nate agreed, for her sake - that made her feel just a little bit guilty. Is it really okay to use my boyfriend just because I want to please another person?
No, maybe it wasn’t okay, but she forgot to think about it when Nate called her back fifteen minutes later and confirmed that there was going to be a table for Miranda Priestly that night.
The two editors were in the room that for the moment had no freesias in it.
“Excuse me,” Andy said as she was going in, “I just wanted to say that I made the reservation for you like you wanted, Jacqueline.”
“Excellent.” Her boss smiled. “I knew you could do it for me.” She winked, as if to say: Or should I say ‘for Miranda’? and Andy blushed.
She and Marie were not invited to the dinner, only the two older women went to the restaurant, but Nate told her later that night that both of them seemed to be very pleased.
“As far as I can tell, at least. I couldn’t keep an eye on them the whole time. And with that white-haired lady it’s a bit hard to tell, isn’t it?”
“She doesn’t exactly sing everybody’s praise,” Andy agreed, because it was true.
“She’s pretty good looking for an older woman,” Nate said, “but sort of terrifying, even from a safe distance.”
That was all he had to say about Miranda, and then he wanted to snuggle and kiss and probably more, but Andy didn’t feel up to any of it.
That night, she dreamed that she made Miranda a banana split, and Miranda thanked her by grabbing her and pulling her down on her lap. Andy wanted to kiss her and woke up the next moment with her heart beating hard. Her boyfriend was sleeping right next to her. She turned around from him and hid her blushing face in a pillow, not sure if she just wanted the memory of the dream to go a way or if she wanted to keep on dreaming.
***
“This…” Emily waved her hands to point out all of it and nothing specific; the trees, the flowers, the water, the statues, “is very flowery and… and French…”
Serena chuckled behind her, softening the sharp sound of the gravel under the wheelchair. They were in the Tuileries and Emily adored it. It wasn’t her usual kind of pretty but perhaps the accident had made her softer somehow? She was not the kind of person to swoon at the sight of flowers and little birds.
“I’m glad you like it,” Serena said, responding to the intent of the message rather than the words themselves, for which Emily was thankful, because ‘flowery and French’ didn’t necessarily have to be a compliment, she realized.
They had walked through all of it - rather, Serena had walked; Emily was sitting - and now they were at the gates of the park. The gates were high with golden decorations and on top of the stone walls were things like winged horses.
Serena pushed Emily past all the people, and out to a very busy place with even more people, and cars and busses with masses of tourists.
“We are now at Place de la Concorde,” Serena informed her, and told her about the huge black pillar - the obelisque - that dominated the place.
“Oh,” Emily said, “that’s Champs Elysées up there, isn’t it?”
The famous street was like a gray band in the distance. Even from where they were standing they could see the Arc de Triomphe like a soft square, almost but not quite disappearing in the sun haze. It was far away, but seemed to pull at something within Emily, begging her to come closer.
“Oui,” Serena replied. “You want to see it, don’t you?”
“Oh!” Emily had been so taken by every new thing she saw that she had forgotten to think about what Serena wanted. “You’re a doctor, you must have more important things to do than helping an invalid in a wheelchair…”
“Nonsense. There is nothing wrong with helping someone. I like to do this.”
“I dislike being helped,” Emily said, “generally. But, um… I don’t mind it now, with you…”
The only thing she had regretted sometimes during the day was that Serena was behind her most of the time. Now, she was glad that the other woman couldn’t see that she was blushing.
“Good,” Serena said, and they crossed Place de la Concorde and began their journey up the street that was bordered with trees, and full of people.
It was even longer, though, than what it had looked like from down there outside the park. Here and there were small green newsstands and candy stands, some with food, too.
“Do you want a crêpe?” Serena asked, stopping in front of one of them and Emily had to admit that the scent was tempting.
“Um,” she said, “carbs…”
“Well.” Serena sniffed. “Too many carbohydrates wouldn’t be good for anyone, like too much sugar, or too much of anything. But nothing should be exaggerated. A few extra carbs once in a while won’t do you any harm, quite the opposite! The human body needs to be balanced.”
“You’re lecturing,” Emily pointed out. If it was one thing she couldn’t stand then it was to have her ideas about food contradicted.
“Sorry.” Serena stood next to her and put her hand on her shoulder. “I didn’t mean to. It’s just that… You can’t be in France without tasting the crêpes. Of course, the best thing would be a real crêperie in Bretagne, with cider, too…”
“Okay.” Emily looked up at the woman beside her with a small smile. “I’ll take one. I’ll let you decide the filling.”
Serena pushed Emily to the side where there was a green bench. She spoke English with just the slightest bit of accent but of course she ordered two crêpes in French. Emily liked to listen to her.
“Bretagne,” she said as she accepted the warm and redolent food-offering, “Brittany, right? Tell me about it. What’s it like?”
“Beautiful,” Serena said and sat down on the bench so that they were on about the same height for once. “Especially if you like to watch the untamed ocean and the wild and hard cliffs above it, with the wind messing with your hair… I have an aunt who lives there. They say I’m a lot like her.”
“Why, is she tall, beautiful, a good doctor and a very kind person?”
Serena laughed and if Emily wasn’t mistaken, there was a hint of pink spreading over her cheeks.
“I was thinking more like single, weird and cat-loving…”
Emily, who quite disliked cats, wondered if love of cats was something that was possible to learn, just like accepting help from a near-stranger wasn’t half as bad as could be expected. Note to self: learn French, figure out what’s good about cats, figure out what else Serena likes…
There were many things she could say in response to Serena’s comment. ‘I’m single too’, for one… She was starting to feel a little lightheaded. Not in an unpleasant way, not exactly, but it was confusing. She was thankful for the thin, golden pancake that was wrapped in paper. No talking with food in your mouth!
“I would like to see it some day,” she mumbled. “Your untamed ocean…”
Would Miranda give me enough time off work if I wanted to do that?
Emily then realized that she hadn’t thought about Miranda during the whole day, or about the stranger that Miranda so quickly had found to fill her shoes.
“I would like to show it to you some day,” Serena said, and her eyes were unsettling. Too warm, too gentle, too open. I’m not a gentle person, I’m not sweet, like you, Emily wanted to cry, but she didn’t.
She said nothing, but the silence was not uncomfortable, and then they began walking again. Emily searched within her for any hint of guilt feelings for being coerced into eating carbs, but there was nothing, not really.
“Thanks for the crêpe,” she said instead, and meant it. “Merci.”
“You’re welcome,” Serena said, and there were all the boutiques to their left and right, and even more cars on the street than before, and the huge gray cube was coming closer and closer.
Emily and Serena had so little in common, next to nothing. Strange how they could have so much to talk about, to laugh about…
Finally, they were right in front of the big stone monument, and Serena, taking her assignment as a guide very seriously, told Emily all about it.
Was it time to turn back then?
“Thank you for spending the day with me,” Emily said. “Do you really have time for this?”
Serena shrugged her shoulders as if it was an unimportant question.
“I made time for it. I took the day off.”
“Why?” Emily blushed. “I mean, I’m glad you did, but…”
“I wanted to take the opportunity to get to know you.” Serena sounded like it was the most natural thing in the world, and perhaps it was, because Emily felt that there was some kind of connection between them and she could only hope that that was what Serena was referring to.
Again, their eyes locked, and then, Serena bent down and placed a kiss in the corner of Emily’s mouth. Perhaps she had aimed for the cheek but Emily had flinched of surprise when her head suddenly came so close. It made both of them blush.
“Should I not have done that..?”
“Oh, but yes…”
Emily blushed even more and Serena smiled.
“Time to go now…”
“Yes.” Emily nodded. “I’m supposed to go back to New York tomorrow morning.”
“Yes.” Serena sighed and Emily wanted to get up from the wheelchair and run, in the opposite direction from where Miranda was, but she knew it was a silly thought. She couldn’t. She had to keep doing her job - as soon as she could - and Serena had to stay where she was.
“I don’t want to…” she began, as the same time as Serena said: “I wish…”, and then they laughed.
It hurts, Emily observed in amazement, but the pain is too sweet for me to want to be without it…
***
Andy and Marie had been sent out on a task for their now two bosses, and they were almost ready to go back to the magazine. They were on the métro, two stations away from the stop where they were to complete their last errand.
Marie’s cell began to ring with the signal that meant Jacqueline was calling, and she answered immediately.
“Okay, aha… Yes, Jacqueline. Very soon!”
It didn’t take many seconds. Marie put the cell back in her bag and sighed.
“What is it now?” Andy asked.
“Coffee.” Marie rolled her eyes. “You know, sometimes I wonder why they don’t have at least three assistants… And I hear that Miranda is more than just a little picky about her coffee. So, you or me? Do you want to toss a coin?”
“No,” Andy said, “it’s alright. I’ll get the coffee.”
It didn’t matter to her. Sure, a couple of years earlier, she couldn’t have imagined that getting coffee would be part of her job description - she had imagined writing big newspaper articles on serious topics - but she didn’t mind, really. Miranda and Jacqueline’s work meant a lot to many people, and if they needed coffee to do a good job, then that meant that Andy’s work mattered in the long run, even if she was just a small part of the picture. She wasn’t going to be an assistant forever, but for the time being, she was totally okay with being one.
Especially if that meant spending some time in the presence of a person like Miranda. The project was almost done and Miranda - and the hospitalized real assistant - was soon going to leave the country. And then, Andy was not going to see her again.
“You don’t look like you’re alright.” Marie glared suspiciously at her.
“No, I’m fine!” Andy quickly brushed away the tear that out of nowhere was finding its way down her cheek. “I just got something in my eye.”
The train stopped, and Andy jumped up to take another line that would take her back to the office. She happened to know that she could get coffee right next to the métro station.
“This is where I get off,” she said to Marie. “See you at the office.”
Andy ran and elbowed her way in record time; the coffee was still scolding hot when she reached the office, where the two editors were alone behind closed doors. Miranda said something but Andy couldn’t hear the words. Jacqueline’s reply was more than distinguishable.
“No, you can’t! That’s out of the question. I forbid it. Yes, she is golden, but she won’t agree!”
“Dear Jacqueline,” Miranda said and now Andy could hear her better, “that is not your decision to make. It is entirely up to her.”
“Nonsense! She is very loyal. Do you have a crush on her, or what is this absurdity about?!”
“I am going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”
Miranda’s voice was cold enough to turn the content of the paper cups Andy was holding into ice latte.
“But what is the matter with you?!” The French woman’s voice was hotter than hell in contrast. “Can’t you find good assistant in your own country, do you have to take the one American girl who works for me?”
Andy gasped and nearly dropped the cups when she began to realize that the two women were arguing about her.
Miranda chose that moment to open the door and her step froze at the sight of Andy.
“Hi!” Andy grinned like a fool, probably giving away the fact that she had been eavesdropping. “I’ve got your coffee…”
“So I see,” Jacqueline said. “That was fast.”
“Why so surprised, Jacqueline?” Miranda took one of the cups from Andy’s hands, opened the lid and took a sip from it. “Didn’t you say yourself that she is golden?”
“Well,” Jacqueline began, “quality and speed don’t always…”
“The coffee is fine,” Miranda turned on her heel and began walking down the corridor.
Jacqueline looked at Andy and raised an eyebrow.
“Really, the coffee is fine? How clever of you, Andrea!”
“Yeah?” Andy shrugged her shoulders. “How hard can it be? I happen to have learned how she likes her coffee, so what?”
“I think that’s not the only thing you have learned…”
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Andy began, but then the phone began to ring.
“Answer it,” Jacqueline said; it was a superfluous command since Andy was the only assistant there at the moment, and she ran to the phone without looking at her boss anymore, but she heard a door shut unusually hard.
“Jacqueline Follet’s office,” she answered mechanically, trying to figure out what all the fuzz was about.
She was going to get the answer soon enough.
Fandom: The Devil Wears Prada
Rating/Genre: g/femslash, AU
Characters/Pairings: Andy, Miranda, Andy/Nate (not so much…), Emily/Serena, Jacqueline, Marie (oc).
Summary: Andy lives with Nate in Paris, where she works as Jacqueline’s second assistant and life is good. Now, she suddenly finds herself falling head over heals for the editor of American Runway, and things begin to change. In the meantime, Emily discovers an unexpected love of flowers and crêpes, thanks to her doctor… The story alternates between Andy’s and Emily’s point of view.
Word count: 2 745 (this chapter)
Spoilers/Warnings: No.
Notes: Very late fic for punky_96 and fandomaid’s Help Japan auction.
Notes2: Here’s a song called Champs Elysées by Joe Dassin :)
Part one: I Love Paris.
“Oh, but you know that’s not likely to happen with such short notice.” If spoken with conviction, reason usually worked with Jacqueline. “Just because my boyfriend works there it doesn’t mean that I can…”
“But,” Jacqueline interrupted, “I think Miranda would like it very much.”
Andy nodded. Of course. Almost a week had passed, and she knew two things: Miranda was not unlikely to ask the impossible… And Andy was prepared to get it done for her.
She called Nate, and as she had suspected, he said no.
“Andy, do you remember what I told you the last time Jacqueline wanted a table here? When this restaurant is full, it is full, and I can’t do anything about it.”
“I know, but it can’t be impossible. It’s for Miranda.”
“So? Is she the new queen of France or something?”
“No, but she is Miranda Priestly. She’s even more important than Jacqueline. In New York…”
“She’s not in New York now. This is Paris and nobody knows who she is. Everybody knows this restaurant.”
“Everybody knows that restaurant,” Andy said, making a last effort, “because all the VIPs like it because all the food critics adore it, and that makes your boss the greatest VIP of them all. But he still needs all the other VIPs to eat there and contribute to its reputation. He needs people like Miranda. He wants her there. Just ask him, please? For my sake?”
Nate agreed, for her sake - that made her feel just a little bit guilty. Is it really okay to use my boyfriend just because I want to please another person?
No, maybe it wasn’t okay, but she forgot to think about it when Nate called her back fifteen minutes later and confirmed that there was going to be a table for Miranda Priestly that night.
The two editors were in the room that for the moment had no freesias in it.
“Excuse me,” Andy said as she was going in, “I just wanted to say that I made the reservation for you like you wanted, Jacqueline.”
“Excellent.” Her boss smiled. “I knew you could do it for me.” She winked, as if to say: Or should I say ‘for Miranda’? and Andy blushed.
She and Marie were not invited to the dinner, only the two older women went to the restaurant, but Nate told her later that night that both of them seemed to be very pleased.
“As far as I can tell, at least. I couldn’t keep an eye on them the whole time. And with that white-haired lady it’s a bit hard to tell, isn’t it?”
“She doesn’t exactly sing everybody’s praise,” Andy agreed, because it was true.
“She’s pretty good looking for an older woman,” Nate said, “but sort of terrifying, even from a safe distance.”
That was all he had to say about Miranda, and then he wanted to snuggle and kiss and probably more, but Andy didn’t feel up to any of it.
That night, she dreamed that she made Miranda a banana split, and Miranda thanked her by grabbing her and pulling her down on her lap. Andy wanted to kiss her and woke up the next moment with her heart beating hard. Her boyfriend was sleeping right next to her. She turned around from him and hid her blushing face in a pillow, not sure if she just wanted the memory of the dream to go a way or if she wanted to keep on dreaming.
***
“This…” Emily waved her hands to point out all of it and nothing specific; the trees, the flowers, the water, the statues, “is very flowery and… and French…”
Serena chuckled behind her, softening the sharp sound of the gravel under the wheelchair. They were in the Tuileries and Emily adored it. It wasn’t her usual kind of pretty but perhaps the accident had made her softer somehow? She was not the kind of person to swoon at the sight of flowers and little birds.
“I’m glad you like it,” Serena said, responding to the intent of the message rather than the words themselves, for which Emily was thankful, because ‘flowery and French’ didn’t necessarily have to be a compliment, she realized.
They had walked through all of it - rather, Serena had walked; Emily was sitting - and now they were at the gates of the park. The gates were high with golden decorations and on top of the stone walls were things like winged horses.
Serena pushed Emily past all the people, and out to a very busy place with even more people, and cars and busses with masses of tourists.
“We are now at Place de la Concorde,” Serena informed her, and told her about the huge black pillar - the obelisque - that dominated the place.
“Oh,” Emily said, “that’s Champs Elysées up there, isn’t it?”
The famous street was like a gray band in the distance. Even from where they were standing they could see the Arc de Triomphe like a soft square, almost but not quite disappearing in the sun haze. It was far away, but seemed to pull at something within Emily, begging her to come closer.
“Oui,” Serena replied. “You want to see it, don’t you?”
“Oh!” Emily had been so taken by every new thing she saw that she had forgotten to think about what Serena wanted. “You’re a doctor, you must have more important things to do than helping an invalid in a wheelchair…”
“Nonsense. There is nothing wrong with helping someone. I like to do this.”
“I dislike being helped,” Emily said, “generally. But, um… I don’t mind it now, with you…”
The only thing she had regretted sometimes during the day was that Serena was behind her most of the time. Now, she was glad that the other woman couldn’t see that she was blushing.
“Good,” Serena said, and they crossed Place de la Concorde and began their journey up the street that was bordered with trees, and full of people.
It was even longer, though, than what it had looked like from down there outside the park. Here and there were small green newsstands and candy stands, some with food, too.
“Do you want a crêpe?” Serena asked, stopping in front of one of them and Emily had to admit that the scent was tempting.
“Um,” she said, “carbs…”
“Well.” Serena sniffed. “Too many carbohydrates wouldn’t be good for anyone, like too much sugar, or too much of anything. But nothing should be exaggerated. A few extra carbs once in a while won’t do you any harm, quite the opposite! The human body needs to be balanced.”
“You’re lecturing,” Emily pointed out. If it was one thing she couldn’t stand then it was to have her ideas about food contradicted.
“Sorry.” Serena stood next to her and put her hand on her shoulder. “I didn’t mean to. It’s just that… You can’t be in France without tasting the crêpes. Of course, the best thing would be a real crêperie in Bretagne, with cider, too…”
“Okay.” Emily looked up at the woman beside her with a small smile. “I’ll take one. I’ll let you decide the filling.”
Serena pushed Emily to the side where there was a green bench. She spoke English with just the slightest bit of accent but of course she ordered two crêpes in French. Emily liked to listen to her.
“Bretagne,” she said as she accepted the warm and redolent food-offering, “Brittany, right? Tell me about it. What’s it like?”
“Beautiful,” Serena said and sat down on the bench so that they were on about the same height for once. “Especially if you like to watch the untamed ocean and the wild and hard cliffs above it, with the wind messing with your hair… I have an aunt who lives there. They say I’m a lot like her.”
“Why, is she tall, beautiful, a good doctor and a very kind person?”
Serena laughed and if Emily wasn’t mistaken, there was a hint of pink spreading over her cheeks.
“I was thinking more like single, weird and cat-loving…”
Emily, who quite disliked cats, wondered if love of cats was something that was possible to learn, just like accepting help from a near-stranger wasn’t half as bad as could be expected. Note to self: learn French, figure out what’s good about cats, figure out what else Serena likes…
There were many things she could say in response to Serena’s comment. ‘I’m single too’, for one… She was starting to feel a little lightheaded. Not in an unpleasant way, not exactly, but it was confusing. She was thankful for the thin, golden pancake that was wrapped in paper. No talking with food in your mouth!
“I would like to see it some day,” she mumbled. “Your untamed ocean…”
Would Miranda give me enough time off work if I wanted to do that?
Emily then realized that she hadn’t thought about Miranda during the whole day, or about the stranger that Miranda so quickly had found to fill her shoes.
“I would like to show it to you some day,” Serena said, and her eyes were unsettling. Too warm, too gentle, too open. I’m not a gentle person, I’m not sweet, like you, Emily wanted to cry, but she didn’t.
She said nothing, but the silence was not uncomfortable, and then they began walking again. Emily searched within her for any hint of guilt feelings for being coerced into eating carbs, but there was nothing, not really.
“Thanks for the crêpe,” she said instead, and meant it. “Merci.”
“You’re welcome,” Serena said, and there were all the boutiques to their left and right, and even more cars on the street than before, and the huge gray cube was coming closer and closer.
Emily and Serena had so little in common, next to nothing. Strange how they could have so much to talk about, to laugh about…
Finally, they were right in front of the big stone monument, and Serena, taking her assignment as a guide very seriously, told Emily all about it.
Was it time to turn back then?
“Thank you for spending the day with me,” Emily said. “Do you really have time for this?”
Serena shrugged her shoulders as if it was an unimportant question.
“I made time for it. I took the day off.”
“Why?” Emily blushed. “I mean, I’m glad you did, but…”
“I wanted to take the opportunity to get to know you.” Serena sounded like it was the most natural thing in the world, and perhaps it was, because Emily felt that there was some kind of connection between them and she could only hope that that was what Serena was referring to.
Again, their eyes locked, and then, Serena bent down and placed a kiss in the corner of Emily’s mouth. Perhaps she had aimed for the cheek but Emily had flinched of surprise when her head suddenly came so close. It made both of them blush.
“Should I not have done that..?”
“Oh, but yes…”
Emily blushed even more and Serena smiled.
“Time to go now…”
“Yes.” Emily nodded. “I’m supposed to go back to New York tomorrow morning.”
“Yes.” Serena sighed and Emily wanted to get up from the wheelchair and run, in the opposite direction from where Miranda was, but she knew it was a silly thought. She couldn’t. She had to keep doing her job - as soon as she could - and Serena had to stay where she was.
“I don’t want to…” she began, as the same time as Serena said: “I wish…”, and then they laughed.
It hurts, Emily observed in amazement, but the pain is too sweet for me to want to be without it…
***
Andy and Marie had been sent out on a task for their now two bosses, and they were almost ready to go back to the magazine. They were on the métro, two stations away from the stop where they were to complete their last errand.
Marie’s cell began to ring with the signal that meant Jacqueline was calling, and she answered immediately.
“Okay, aha… Yes, Jacqueline. Very soon!”
It didn’t take many seconds. Marie put the cell back in her bag and sighed.
“What is it now?” Andy asked.
“Coffee.” Marie rolled her eyes. “You know, sometimes I wonder why they don’t have at least three assistants… And I hear that Miranda is more than just a little picky about her coffee. So, you or me? Do you want to toss a coin?”
“No,” Andy said, “it’s alright. I’ll get the coffee.”
It didn’t matter to her. Sure, a couple of years earlier, she couldn’t have imagined that getting coffee would be part of her job description - she had imagined writing big newspaper articles on serious topics - but she didn’t mind, really. Miranda and Jacqueline’s work meant a lot to many people, and if they needed coffee to do a good job, then that meant that Andy’s work mattered in the long run, even if she was just a small part of the picture. She wasn’t going to be an assistant forever, but for the time being, she was totally okay with being one.
Especially if that meant spending some time in the presence of a person like Miranda. The project was almost done and Miranda - and the hospitalized real assistant - was soon going to leave the country. And then, Andy was not going to see her again.
“You don’t look like you’re alright.” Marie glared suspiciously at her.
“No, I’m fine!” Andy quickly brushed away the tear that out of nowhere was finding its way down her cheek. “I just got something in my eye.”
The train stopped, and Andy jumped up to take another line that would take her back to the office. She happened to know that she could get coffee right next to the métro station.
“This is where I get off,” she said to Marie. “See you at the office.”
Andy ran and elbowed her way in record time; the coffee was still scolding hot when she reached the office, where the two editors were alone behind closed doors. Miranda said something but Andy couldn’t hear the words. Jacqueline’s reply was more than distinguishable.
“No, you can’t! That’s out of the question. I forbid it. Yes, she is golden, but she won’t agree!”
“Dear Jacqueline,” Miranda said and now Andy could hear her better, “that is not your decision to make. It is entirely up to her.”
“Nonsense! She is very loyal. Do you have a crush on her, or what is this absurdity about?!”
“I am going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”
Miranda’s voice was cold enough to turn the content of the paper cups Andy was holding into ice latte.
“But what is the matter with you?!” The French woman’s voice was hotter than hell in contrast. “Can’t you find good assistant in your own country, do you have to take the one American girl who works for me?”
Andy gasped and nearly dropped the cups when she began to realize that the two women were arguing about her.
Miranda chose that moment to open the door and her step froze at the sight of Andy.
“Hi!” Andy grinned like a fool, probably giving away the fact that she had been eavesdropping. “I’ve got your coffee…”
“So I see,” Jacqueline said. “That was fast.”
“Why so surprised, Jacqueline?” Miranda took one of the cups from Andy’s hands, opened the lid and took a sip from it. “Didn’t you say yourself that she is golden?”
“Well,” Jacqueline began, “quality and speed don’t always…”
“The coffee is fine,” Miranda turned on her heel and began walking down the corridor.
Jacqueline looked at Andy and raised an eyebrow.
“Really, the coffee is fine? How clever of you, Andrea!”
“Yeah?” Andy shrugged her shoulders. “How hard can it be? I happen to have learned how she likes her coffee, so what?”
“I think that’s not the only thing you have learned…”
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Andy began, but then the phone began to ring.
“Answer it,” Jacqueline said; it was a superfluous command since Andy was the only assistant there at the moment, and she ran to the phone without looking at her boss anymore, but she heard a door shut unusually hard.
“Jacqueline Follet’s office,” she answered mechanically, trying to figure out what all the fuzz was about.
She was going to get the answer soon enough.