(no subject)
Miranda Priestly looked stunning as she made her entrance.
Andy groaned and deleted the sentence. Of course Miranda looked stunning, did she ever look anything but?
At the moment, she wanted nothing more than to kill Greg. How could she possibly write this story after what happened?
The brunette leaned back from her computer and sighed. She was in for a long night.
***
Miranda nearly choked on her coffee when she looked down and saw Andrea’s article on the front page. Normally, she had to search. Andrea’s pieces were very well written, but not popular in the way of news.
She slowly extended her hand and grabbed the paper, staring at the pictures of herself. One was the general picture that would probably have only slightly varied versions in every paper, her grand entrance. The other, made her gasp. The photographer had managed to get a picture of her discussion with Nigel, and the sheer look of panic that had crossed her face when he’d read her mind.
Miranda hurled the paper across the room. She would have to tell Emily not to pick up the Mirror for her anymore.
***
Miranda had quite forgotten the paper sitting in the corner of the room as she went about her day. She’d had a catastrophe when one of the models gained weight and no longer fit into her dress, plus a run through, and a general meeting to discuss the next issue. How she managed, after all of it, to sit herself gracefully in her chair, was beyond her knowledge.
Nigel shut the door before seating himself across from her. His eyes fell on the paper. “So, I take it you didn’t like Andrea’s article?”
“What?” It took Miranda a second to register what he meant. “Oh. I didn’t even read it. Did you see that awful picture Nigel?”
“The one of your grand entrance, I happened to think it was marvelous. You looked fantastic.”
“Oh don’t get smart with me; you know perfectly well which picture I’m talking about.” Miranda snapped at him.
“It’s not so bad.” Nigel sighed. “Maybe after this, people will believe you to be more human.” He received a glare from Miranda and shrugged. “Read the article, trust me on this one.”
Miranda continued to glare at him. “Why should I?”
“Because I liked it.” Nigel stood from his chair and walked over to the paper. He picked it up and placed it on Miranda’s desk. “Read. And I don’t want to see you out of this office until you have read the entire thing.” Before Miranda could say another word, he crossed the room and quickly opened and shut the door.
Miranda was suddenly very alone.
***
The Fashion Queen
by Andy Sachs
It has become redundant to call Miranda
Priestly stunning. The name should aut-
omatically call that word to mind.
Miranda made her entrance at 9:30,
fashionably late for her own party. But we
could not expect anything less, for it would
not be a Miranda entrance if all heads did
not turn to watch her.
Her strapless black dress was created by
designer friend, James Holt, who just
recently took his company global. She was
nothing short of goddess-like as she glided
around the room, speaking personally with
every guest. (See page 7 for a full guest list.)
Sitting on the steps, one overhears conversa-
tions of polite surprise at her ability to
remember names and faces.
People tend to paint portraits of Miranda
Priestly as a “Dragon Lady” or an “Ice Queen”
These assessments, however, are far from who
she really is. She held her head high and proud,
but still laughed easily and chatted animatedly
with various personal acquaintances. It is no
surprise, given these portraits, that Miranda
adamantly refuses to grant interviews. She did,
however, manage to squeeze time into her
busy schedule for me, her former second assistant
at Runway Magazine.
Up close, she is even more amazing, proving
that a woman can look beautiful without
the aid of plastic surgery. She shows a strong
interest in preserving her body naturally,
mentioning a search for a new exercise program.
The night was an overall success, guests
expressing thrill at just being invited to the
fashion event of the year.
***
Miranda set the paper calmly on her desk, unsure of her next move. She clasped her hands together and leaned her forehead against them, trying to remind herself how to breathe.
***
“Andy.” Greg called her gleefully. “The phones are ringing off the hook. People want a follow-up piece. They want to know what diet and exercise program Miranda Priestly chooses next. They want every detail of the ones she has tried before.”
Andy sighed. “I’ve told you before, she doesn’t grant interviews.”
“Yet somehow you managed to get more information from her than any other reporter. How did you know she didn’t get plastic surgery?”
“She’s not that kind of woman, Greg. Give her some credit.” Andy wondered why she was sticking up for her old boss so readily.
“See, you do know her better than any other reporter. I bet if you called her up and asked her…”
Andy cut him off immediately. “No. I did this one piece for you after excessive begging. I refuse to be sent into the snake pit again for some little whim. Just give me my old stories, please.”
“Andy, need I remind you that you work for me.”
“No. But I would hope that you would respect me enough to realize that I used to work for Miranda and I really hate to be thrown into that crowd again to satisfy the needs of a bunch of shallow housewives. I came to this paper to make a difference, to get away from Runway.”
“Fine.” Greg looked angry. “You can pick up your old article again.” He turned and went into his office, shutting the door loudly behind him.
Roxanne peered over the cubicle when she knew the coast was clear. “Wow, Andy. Standing up to the boss man.”
“Shut it Roxanne.” Andy snapped.
“Ooh. Ouch.” Roxanne chuckled to herself and plopped back down on her side of the flimsy gray wall.
***
Andy decided to check her newspaper email, wanting to see the response to the article for herself. It was just as she thought, dissatisfied housewives trying to make their husbands notice them by looking like Miranda Priestly. Andy snorted. People were so naïve.
She scrolled through the emails, deleting most of them based on the subject line. One email, however, caught her attention.
From: mpriestly@runwaymag.com (Miranda Priestly)
To: andysachs@nymirror.com
Subject: Your Article
Thank You.
The two words shone up at Andy. This meant that Miranda read the article and liked it, right? Was this also an apology? Should she reply?
***
Miranda heard the familiar beep on her computer, indicating that she had a new email. She clicked the inbox and smiled.
From: andysachs@nymirror.com (Andy Sachs)
To: mpriestly@runwaymag.com
Subject: Re: Your Article
You’re welcome.
I’m sorry.
Feeling brave, Miranda responded.
***
From: mpriestly@runwaymag.com (Miranda Priestly)
To: andysachs@nymirror.com
Subject: Re: Re: Your Article
Me too.
Dinner?
***
From: andysachs@nymirror.com (Andy Sachs)
To: mpriestly@runwaymag.com
Subject: Invitation
Sure. When?
***
From: mpriestly@runwaymag.com (Miranda Priestly)
To: andysachs@nymirror.com
Subject: Re: Invitation
Tomorrow night. 8:00
I can send Roy to pick you up.
***
From: andysachs@nymirror.com (Andy Sachs)
To: mpriestly@runwaymag.com
Subject: Re: Re: Invitation
Sounds good.
Don’t bother Roy. I can catch a cab. Just tell me where to meet you.
***
From: mpriestly@runwaymag.com (Miranda Priestly)
To: andysachs@nymirror.com
Subject: Transportation
Roy will pick you up at 8:00.
***
From: andysachs@nymirror.com (Andy Sachs)
To: mpriestly@runwaymag.com
Subject: Re: Transportation
Ok.
Andy laughed to herself as she sent the reply. Miranda knew how to get what she wanted.
***
“Shit!” Andy glanced up at the clock. 7:50. “Double shit!” She got down on her hands and knees, crawling around her bed. Where was her other stiletto? She hadn’t worn them in months. She hadn’t had a reason to. They had somehow migrated all over the house, but when she really needed them, they weren’t around.
She stood up and ran to her closet, throwing clothes out of the way. “Oh thank God!” She extracted the black shoe from the back of the closet and quickly slipped it on. “Purse. Where is my purse?” Andy groaned and started another treasure hunt.
Five minutes later, she was running out the door. “Andy.” Roy smiled at her from the street.
“Hello Roy! Nice to see you again.”
“The pleasure is mine.” Andy smiled warmly as he opened the door for her. She slid in and glanced at herself in the rearview mirror.
“Oh crap!”
“Something wrong, Andy?”
“I forgot to put on make-up.”
“Do you have it with you?”
“No. Crap.”
“Andy you look lovely.”
“Thank you Roy. But we both know that I need to wear make-up to meet with Miranda.”
“It is entirely up to you.” Roy looked at his watch. “It’s five ‘til eight.”
“I’ll be right back!” Andy hopped out of the car and ran inside. She hastily applied her make-up and gazed at herself in the mirror. It would have to do. She grabbed her purse and ran out the door again.
“I’m ready.” She called out to Roy as she ran down to the car, nearly tripping in her stilettos.
“Again, you look lovely.”
“Thank you.” Roy opened the door for her again and she slid in. He walked to the other side and got in.
“Roy, where are we going, by the way?”
“I am told to keep the location a secret.”
“Really?” Andy’s curiosity had been aroused. “Well she can’t blame you if I guess, can she?”
“You can try all you want.” Roy smiled at her in the rearview mirror.
“Ok. What about the nice Italian place on Fifth Ave.”
“Nope.”
“The little French bistro?”
“Guess again.”
“That other little Italian place in Little Italy.”
“Vague, but still no.”
“Nothing in Little Italy?”
“No.”
Andy thought for a moment. “We’re taking a chartered plane to France to eat real French food and then we are flying to Italy for dessert.”
Roy laughed. “Very creative, but no.”
“Ugh! I give up!”
“Well that’s good, because we are here.” Roy pulled the car over. Andy realized she had not been paying attention to the ride because otherwise she would have known where they were going. They had stopped in front of Miranda Priestly’s house.
Andy felt her jaw drop. “Wow. You’re right.” Andy breathed. “Didn’t see this one coming.” She stepped slowly out of the car and walked up the steps to the house, extending her finger to ring the doorbell. She looked back at Roy and he gave her the thumbs up. She smiled nervously and before she could compose herself properly, the door was opened by Miranda herself.
***
Miranda smiled. “Hello Andrea.” She moved out of the doorway to allow the younger woman to enter. “I hope you don’t mind eating here. I had Charlotte prepare us a wonderful dinner. I figured this would be the easiest place to talk without being disturbed. The girls are with their father for the weekend so we have the place to ourselves.”
“Wow Miranda. It smells good.”
“Well, come on in and we can eat.” Miranda led the way to the kitchen and Andy gazed at the vision before her. Miranda was wearing a pair of tight black jeans that hugged her body in all the right places. She had on a plain white blouse and a pair of white stilettos.
Andy realized she had been forgetting to breathe. She inhaled heavily and took a seat across from Miranda at the table. The older woman smiled and began serving the Filet Mignon.
The younger woman bit into the steak and gasped. “Wow. This is amazing!”
“Thank you. Charlotte is a very fine chef. I will pass the compliment along.”
“Please do.” Andy continued to eat, unsure of what to say next. Instead, she waited patiently for Miranda to steer the conversation.
“So…” Miranda paused, unsure of how to continue. “Your article was very…kind.”
Andy looked at her, but Miranda appeared to be very interested in the food on her plate. She heard the older woman clear her throat nervously before speaking again. “I, um, I appreciate the kindness, especially after how I treated you.” Miranda continued to look at her plate.
Miranda’s hand was resting gently on the table and Andy reached over and placed hers on top of it. The deep gray eyes finally looked up at her. “Miranda, you deserve everything I said about you, and then some. I have been so awful to you in the past, but you still treat me so well. I mean, come on, everyone knows you could have easily kept me from that job at the Mirror. Instead, you did the opposite. You helped me along. I am forever in your debt.”
“Well you certainly could have done it on your own, he just asked for a recommendation, so I told him the truth.”
“That if he didn’t hire me he was an idiot. Yes, I remember him telling me that quite clearly.”
“He told you? Oh dear.” Miranda blushed and laughed. “Well, you know. You are a very hard worker. He would be an idiot to pass that up.”
“Thank you Miranda.”
Miranda nodded and Andy slowly withdrew her hand. They continued eating in silence before Miranda started the conversation again.
“So, how are things with you and Nate?”
“We, um, we split.”
Miranda felt guilty for being so happy about it. She did her best to sound concerned. “Aw, I’m sorry to hear that. Why?”
“Well things were rough already and when I came back from Paris, I found out he’d taken a job in Boston. We tried to make it work, but since it was already rocky, a long distance relationship just made things worse.”
“Oh that is too bad.”
“Eh.” Andy shrugged. “He didn’t understand me as well as I thought he did. After I took the job with you, he became distant and cold. I realized he wanted things from me that I couldn’t give.” Miranda nodded, encouraged by the young woman opening up to her. Andy continued. “Speaking of which, I have to thank you for something else Miranda.” She looked meaningfully up at the older woman. “When I became successful at work, my friends started to turn on me. Nate, Lily, Doug and though I wouldn’t really call her a friend, Emily. Even my parents started harping on me all the time. But you stuck by me Miranda, you helped me along. You kept pushing me forward. And then you gave me the greatest compliment anyone could ever give. You told me you saw some of yourself in me. I wasn’t ready for that responsibility then, but I wish I had been. I’m happy with my new job, and I don’t plan to leave it, but I wonder if I ever should have left Runway.”
“It has been hard to fill your desk, Andrea. I have gone through eight girls in the last six months. Actually, this newest one is starting to get on my last nerve again. She’s just so dull and so nervous all the time.”
Andy smiled. “You can’t deny, you are a hard person to please Miranda.”
Miranda laughed. “I just have high expectations.”
“So that’s what you call it?” Andy teased.
“Is it so wrong to want someone to do their job properly?”
Andy laughed. “No. But you don’t just want it done properly. You want it done perfectly. You keep the people of Runway on their toes.”
“But they give me their best.”
“Very true.” Andy smiled. “I certainly did.”
“Ah, yes. You were a hard one to get through to. So stubborn.” Miranda smiled. “But full of personality, attitude.”
“Uh-huh. See, I remember you not liking my attitude so much.”
“At first, it was irritating. I was very close to firing you, but then you started to act like you cared so I let you stay. You turned out to be the best assistant I’ve ever had.” Miranda looked mischievously across the table. “Do not tell Emily I said that.”
“I won’t. Cross my heart.” Andy made the motion across her chest and Miranda laughed. “Give the new girl a chance. She could surprise you. What would you have done if you hadn’t given me a chance?” Andy grinned at the older woman.
“I would have immediately found someone new and forgotten all about you.”
“Oh. Ouch.” Andy laughed. “Wait a minute, did Miranda Priestly just tease me?”
“I believe I did.”
“Put it on record ladies and gentleman.” Andy gazed around at the invisible audience. “Miranda Priestly has a sense of humor.”
Miranda laughed. “I’m not made of stone, you know.”
“I know. People just don’t get to know you before they pass their judgments.”
“No, they really don’t.” Miranda sighed. “Not that I make it very easy for them.”
“Eh, you aren’t so bad. Once you get past the constant demands, and the odd working hours. Well, and the odd work demands.”
“Odd work demands?”
“One word: Patricia.” Andy raised an eyebrow at Miranda who laughed melodically.
“Ah, yes. That is one of my more fun tasks to hand out. I love the looks on people’s faces when they realize she’s a dog. Classic.”
“So this is all for your own amusement, then, is it?”
“Some of it, yes.” Andy looked at her. “What? I have to get my laughs from somewhere!”
“From the pure torture of others.”
“It’s not so bad.”
Andy laughed. “I distinctly remember Nigel telling me that when my life went up in flames, it was time for a promotion.”
“He said that?”
“Oh don’t worry. It was all in fun. I was complaining about my job. He was sick of hearing me complain. He gets his laughs the same way you do.”
“Yes, I do love Nigel. Such a good worker too.”
Andy felt brave. “Why did you stop him from getting that job with James Holt?”
Miranda sighed. “I was greedy. I knew they were going to kick me out of Runway. And I knew I could easily have another job at a different magazine, but I wanted to guard my territory. Besides, I want Nigel to expand on his own one day. He doesn’t realize it, but he has great potential to be an editor himself.”
“Why don’t you tell him that?”
“Because one day, when I finally decide to leave Runway, I want Nigel to take over. I don’t want to leave it in just anyone’s hands. He is more than capable of handling it.”
“Does he know you appreciate him so much?”
“I hope so.” Miranda looked across the table. “He knows I don’t show it the same way other people do. I think he realizes that I favor him. I give him the better projects. I hold private meetings with him. I consider him one of my dearest friends. Well, if you can call them friends.” Miranda sighed. “Maybe he was right about the personal life going up in flames.” She waved her hand as if to wave the thought away. “At any rate, I don’t want to bore you with my personal issues, why don’t I clear this up and we can get drinks and sit in the living room.”
Andy looked at her for a moment. “Ok.” She rose from the table and started to help clear the dishes away.
“No. You are a guest. Please, go ahead and wait for me in the other room, I’ll be there shortly.”
Andy nodded and went into the leaving room, taking a seat on the cream colored couch. She tapped her foot nervously on the door until she heard Miranda approach. She sat up straight.
“Relax, Andrea, please.” Miranda seated herself gracefully beside her, she curled one leg beneath her and Andy glimpsed perfectly pedicured red toenails. The younger woman sat back on the couch, unsure of what to do next. Miranda handed her a wine glass and she took it gratefully.
They sipped in silence. Miranda peered over her glass at Andrea. The young woman was definitely doing well. It showed in her appearance.
“You look very nice tonight, Andrea.”
Andy slowly brought her glass from her lips and blinked at Miranda. “Thank you.” She whispered the words. “You look beautiful.”
Miranda blushed and took another sip to try and hide it. She brought her glass down a moment later. “Thank you, Andrea.” She watched as the young woman took another sip and slowly pressed her cherry-red lips back together. She found herself wondering what those lips would taste like, what they would feel like on her own lips. She immediately pushed the thought from her mind.
“So…” Andrea began. “How are Cassidy and Caroline?”
“Wonderful. They just brought home report cards yesterday. Straight A’s for both of them. They work so hard.”
“That’s wonderful. You must be so proud.”
“Oh I would be proud of my girls if they brought home D’s, as long as I knew they were trying their best.”
“They’re lucky to have you as a mother.”
Miranda laughed. “Try telling them that. They have just been so difficult lately. The divorce hit us all pretty hard. It took a great deal of work to keep the press away from my poor girls. Sometimes I wish we could just have a normal life. It would be so much easier.”
“I’m sure you are doing a wonderful job with what you’ve got to work with.”
“Thank you. I sure hope so. My girls are all I have right now. They keep me sane. I really wish I could spend more time with them.”
“Miranda, you are the boss, you know. You should take some time off.”
“I can’t. You know how busy it is. If it’s not one thing it’s another. If the art department has everything in order, the wardrobe department is in shambles. If one fashion show doesn’t need me in Miami, another needs me in San Diego. There are so many responsibilities. People wonder why I’m so tough, but it’s a fast-paced business. You have to be able to keep up to survive it.”
Andy tried to smile reassuringly. “Your sanity is more important Miranda.”
“I know. Maybe I will find time, one of these days. Until then, I have to keep on going. It’s what I do best.”
Andy nodded and tried to stifle a yawn. She glanced at the clock. It was almost midnight. “Wow. I can’t believe how late it is.”
Miranda looked up at the clock. “It is late.”
“I think I should head home. We both have to get up early in the morning.”
“Yes.”
“This was nice, Miranda. Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
Andy stood to go. “Take care.”
“You too.”
Andy turned and headed for the front door. “Oh and Andrea?”
“Yes?” The brunette turned around.
“We should do this again some time.”
Dark brown eyes met with dark gray and both women smiled. “Yes.” Andy replied. “That would be great.”
Miranda waited until she heard the front door open and shut before she sighed heavily. She had been so nervous, but things had gone wonderfully. What on Earth was happening between them?