FF: Housesitter - Part 1/4
FF: Housesitter -
Part 1/4
Author: Widdy
Disclaimer: I don't own the Devil Wears Prada, Miranda or Andy. I also don’t own the film Housesitter, unfortunately someone else does so I'm just borrowing them and I will return them after I'm done.
Rating: PG
Feedback: Yes feel free to feed me.
Pairing: Andrea/Miranda
Summary: When successful architect Miranda Priestly’s lover Stephen suddenly decides that their relationship is not working. Their dream house becomes nothing more than a monument to his rejection. That is until a chance encounter with a waitress turns her life upside down.
A/N: I have always loved the movie and I have been playing with this idea for months. I have changed some aspects to fit this story.
Gravel crunched under the heavy tyres as the black Mercedes Benz slowly glided to a halt.
“We’re here.” Miranda declared as her driver opened the door to her town car and then stood aside.
Miranda couldn’t help the smile from curling her lips, as she looked up at the reason she was here. She had been waiting for this day for over two years and now it was finally here. The sun was shining and a gentle breeze was blowing through the trees, it couldn’t possibly more perfect.
“Where?”Stephen asked with a confused smile.
Miranda smiled happily as she grasped Stephen’s hand and guided him from the car. She winked at her chauffer Roy as he moved back towards the front of the Mercedes.
Miranda took a deep breath as she stepped away from Stephen. She glanced over her shoulder and then nodded once to herself.
“Ok, you can open your eyes.”
Miranda watched with baited breath as Stephen did what she asked. His eyes almost popped out of their sockets as his gaze roamed over the structure behind Miranda.
“Miranda? What is this?” Stephen asked his eyes glued upon the house.
“Do you like it?” Miranda asked with a smile as she too turned towards the house.
It was everything she had ever dreamed of in a house. Modern and clean, it was beautiful sight to behold. Set back in the surrounding landscape, the house had an edgy look that mingled with a minimalist aesthetic for an ultra-modern appeal.
Miranda had designed the home, to have a sharp shape, so that it gave anyone viewing the home the feel that it was breaking through the natural landscape. She had picked the spot perfectly, overlooking a lake and the distant mountains on the horizon. Both inside and out, the modern architecture was made for the views.
The large windows covered the outside and invited in both the natural light and the outdoors. The minimalist interior boasted the simple finishes and features that you’d expect if you judge a book by its cover. She had purposely chosen contemporary, natural materials like stone, concrete and wood, and strong architectural elements added just the right interest to her design. With the ultra-modern in mind, Miranda had stayed true to her concept of a comfortable home, with the inclusion of all the usual suspects: a garage, laundry, pantry, kitchen and bathrooms, a dining area, an office, a games room, a library lounge with a home theatre, three bedrooms, and a master bedroom with en suite and walk in closet, it truly was her dream home, and was everything she had wanted to give to the man of her dreams. Stephen.
“I don’t understand?” Stephen muttered as a frown started to mar his brow.
Miranda laughed at Stephen’s puzzled look, “Stephen, will you marry me?”
“Did you buy this house?” Stephen asked, ignoring Miranda’s proposal as his frown became more pronounced.
“Buy it?” Miranda laughed, “Stephen, I designed it, I built it.”
“For who?” Stephen asked faintly.
Miranda threw up her arms and turned back towards Stephen. “For you, for us, for our future.”
“Jesus Christ Miranda!” Stephen exclaimed as he gave his head a sharp shake.
“So what do you think?” Miranda asked.
“I can’t believe you would do this.” Stephen grumbled.
“What is there to believe?” Miranda shrugged, she didn’t quite understand why Stephen was so upset. They had discussed marriage, and living together on numerous occasions. They were both forty-seven, and it wasn’t like either of them were getting any younger.
Stephen’s eyes became impossibly wide, “that you would build this house without consulting me.”
“I didn’t know that it was you who was the architect now, Stephen.” Miranda replied a touch sarcastically.
“You know I don’t mean that,” Stephen barked, “besides isn’t it me who is suppose to ask you to marry me?”
“To hell with tradition Stephen, I love you.” Miranda confessed as she took a step towards Stephen and wrapped her arms around his waist. “So will you Darling?”
“Will I what?” Stephen asked as he looked down into Miranda’s eyes.
“Marry me and make me the happiest woman alive.” Miranda smiled.
Stephen looked up at Miranda’s beautiful house once more and took a deep breath.
“No.” Stephen said bluntly with a shake of his head.
Miranda felt her whole world come crashing down around her as Stephen’s answer reverberated around her brain.
Three Years Later
It was Thursday night and Bulgarian restaurant The Sofia was full to the brim. Miranda Priestly sighed heavily as she gazed around the interior of the restaurant. It was tacky to say the least. Simple wood tables were packed tightly together and were covered in cheap white table cloths. Red candles were wedged haphazardly in empty wine bottles and place in each table with red swans made from napkins.
It wasn’t one of her usual haunts, but Nigel Kipling, her friend, and work colleague had sworn the food was to die for. Surprisingly he had been right. She had never eaten Bulgarian cuisine before and Miranda had found it to her likening.
Now the senior managing architect found herself sitting at the bar sipping sprits with her old friend and engaging in a conversation she would rather not be having.
“It's been three year’s Miranda, you need to move on.” Nigel said after he took a sip of his cocktail
Miranda sent her colleague a withering look, “I don’t recall asking for your advice Nigel.”
“No,” Nigel smiled, “but I’m giving it to you anyway. Stop moping over Stephen.”
“I am not moping!” Miranda glared as she looked down at the amber liquid lacing her glass.
“Oh you are, so he dumped you, it’s not the end of the world.” Nigel shrugged as he smiled at a passing waiter.
“He did not dump me.” Miranda snapped.
Nigel held up his hands in surrender, “Ok maybe dump is too harsh a word. He decided your relationship wasn’t working out. Get over it Miranda. Find yourself a toy boy, make him jealous.”
“I’m not looking for someone new, so I wish you would stop with your incessant pestering.” Miranda could hardly believe what Nigel was suggesting. He alone knew how hard she had taken the disintegration of her relationship with Stephen.
“You gave that man everything. You built the man a house for God’s sake.”
“Is it absolutely necessity for you to keep bring this up?” Miranda sighed as she lifted her glass to her lips and downed the burning liquid.
Nigel was right she had given Stephen everything he had asked for. She had finally thought that she had found the love of her life, only it wasn’t meant to be.
“And at the slightest sniff of commitment, he just cuts you lose.”
Miranda felt her mood dip even further as Nigel rambled on. She knew that Nigel was just trying to get her to move on with her life, but it just didn’t work. No matter how many times and ways he tried.
“You are really cheering me up Nigel.” Miranda huffed as she downed the last of her beverage.
“Oh I don’t mean to get you down,” Nigel apologised, “but I really think you need to let this thing with Stephen go.”
“I loved Stephen. I still do.” Miranda confessed softly. It wasn’t something she was prone to admitting, but Nigel was her oldest friend and if she couldn’t tell him her problems she couldn’t tell anyone.
“I know, that’s what’s unfortunate about the whole dreadful situation.” Nigel sighed with a shake of his head.
Miranda closed her eyes and looked away. She had tried to move on. She had been trying to move past that dreadful day when Stephen had stamped upon her heart. Three years and she felt like she had been standing still the whole time. Oh she had tried dating, but everyone she had met was always lacking in some way, or worse reminded her of Stephen.
Miranda found herself being drawn back to the present when Nigel’s hand landed upon her arm.
“Can I get a drink for my friend here?” Nigel said sweetly.
Miranda allowed her eyes to move away from where Nigel’s hand lay upon her arm and only to have them land upon the waitress that Nigel was speaking to. Miranda found herself mesmerised as she stared at the woman across the bar. She was dressed like all the other waitresses in the restaurant.
The traditional Bulgarian folk dress she wore was red and covered in embroidered, flowers and motifs. Dark brown hair fell in waves framing the woman's face. But it was the woman’s eyes that captured Miranda’s attention. The woman’s two chocolate brown orbs shone with mischief. As she gazed at her Miranda felt her breath hitch in her throat.
“Yes, what you like?” The woman said in a heavily accented voice.
“Champagne,” Nigel said slowly with a laugh, “we are celebrating.”
The woman nodded with a smile, “is good, what you celebrate?”
“Moving on, that’s what we are celebrating.” Nigel looked pointedly at Miranda.
Miranda watched as the woman moved away from them and returned seconds later with a bottle of chilled champagne and two flutes. She placed both on the bar and then picked up the bottle and started to remove the seal.
“I love your accent by the way.” Nigel said.
“I, no well speak English.” The woman said as she gave the bottle a small shake and then placed a cloth over the cork and twisted the piece of wood firmly.
“Where are you from?” Nigel asked as the volume in the room increased as a party at a table nearby burst into song.
“Bulgaria right?” Miranda found herself saying as the cork came free with a muted pop.
“Yes, yes, I is from Bulgaria.” The woman said with a bright smile.
Miranda accepted the flute and held it tightly as the waitress started to pour the sparkling wine into the glass.
“Have you been in American long?” Nigel asked.
The waitress frowned in confusion as she placed the bottle down on the bar in front of them. “Eh?”
“Look leave her alone, she clearly doesn’t speak English that well Nigel.” Miranda said taking pity on the poor woman.
“Andrea is to be called Andrea.” The waitress said.
“Andrea, no talk, you work!” a voice suddenly cried.
Miranda couldn’t help the frown that marred her brow as the bleach blonde man who had shouted pointed to a couple down the end of the bar who needed to be served.
“She was pretty don’t you think?” Nigel commented idly as the waitress moved away from them.
“I suppose.” Miranda replied. Pretty didn’t really cover the waitresses attractiveness, stunning was closer to what Miranda had been thinking, but she wasn’t about to admit that to herself, never mind Nigel.
“But to get back to the point in hand...”
“Nigel, I don’t want to hear it.” Miranda warned, “No amount of champagne is going to make me ready to move on.”
“You were very ready to marry Stephen, so why not ready to move on?” Nigel persisted, “What about Palo?”
Miranda groaned and took a sip of her champagne. She was sick and tired of Nigel offering up men he thought were suitable. Usually they were thirty years her junior and only interested in one thing. Money. Palo was a prime example of this.
“I’m not interested.” Miranda said with a touch of warning in her tone.
Nigel drained the last of his champagne and proceeded to pour himself another, “he’s young, ambitious...”
“Muscle-bound and a gold-digger.” Miranda interrupted angrily.
“Ok, what about Patrick?” Nigel asked.
“Too old.” Miranda countered. Patrick Furnish was almost seventy and not in good health, why Nigel thought that he was a good match for her was beyond Miranda’s comprehension.
“David?” Nigel offered with a tilt of his head.
Miranda rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to wince at the mention of David Summers. “Ugh, perpetual bad breath.”
“Michael?” Nigel tried again.
“I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer.” Miranda said with a glare.
“Ok I give up.” Nigel said as he threw up his free hand.
“Thank God!” Miranda exclaimed as Nigel rolled his eyes and topped her glass up.
****
Throwing her technical pen on the bar Miranda sighed for the hundredth time as she stared at the drawing that she held in her hands. Her life had changed so drastically in the past two years. When she had first drawn the house on the napkin Miranda had never dreamed she would be sitting in a Bulgarian restaurant feeling sorry for herself. No, she had thought she would be happily married living in her house. Stephen had well and truly put a spanner in the works.
Stephen. It was a name that caused equal measures of pain and pleasure. She had thought that she had finally found the one. She had begun to believe that with Stephen her life might finally be complete.
Things hadn’t quite turned out like that.
Miranda chuckled to herself as she let the paper napkin drift from her fingertips. As it landed with a soft rustle on the wood of the bar, a damp cloth passed close by and Miranda glanced up and met the beautiful brown eyes of the waitress she remembered was called Andrea, who Nigel had quizzed a few hours before. Miranda smiled lazily and then tapped her finger on the rim of her glass.
“Another whisky if you please, my little Bulgarian friend.”
The dark haired woman in front of her lifted her eyebrows. A minute later Miranda was watching as Andrea proceeded to pour three fingers of whisky into the glass.
The dark haired waitress leaned forward and ran her cloth over the surface of the bar. As she got close to Miranda’s hand she picked the napkin that sat in front of Miranda. She glanced at the ink drawing and then handed it back to Miranda.
“Nice huh? That’s my house; I designed and built it for the love of my life. I guess you could call it an engagement ring.”Miranda chuckled humourlessly as waved the paper napkin at Andrea.
“Only things didn’t go to plan, because when he saw the house he couldn’t get far enough away from me.” Miranda spat with a touch of bitterness.
“Story of my life, were men are concerned, I think my success scares them.” Miranda snorted and then drained the glass.
She turned back to the waitress and was about to speak again, when a small dark skinned woman with dirty blonde hair, wearing a tight fitting black coat rounded the corner. Miranda watched as she leaned over the bar and touched the Bulgarian waitress Andrea in the small of her back.
“Hey Andy, I’m getting out of here. I won’t be at the apartment; I told Doug that I would meet him for a quick drink, you coming?” The dark skinned woman asked as Andy turned and dropped the cloth upon the wood bar.
“Oh Lily, hey. You know what I’m gonna pass, I think I’ll just have an early night.”
Miranda blinked slowly as her alcohol addled brain tried to process what she was hearing.
Lily smiled and nodded, “Alright then, see you in the morning.”
“Ok, night Lils, love you.” Andy said as she leaned across the bar and met Lily’s cheek with her lips.
“Love you to, see ya.” Lily said as she quickly made her way from the bar.
Miranda blinked slowly as stared at the brunette who started to turn the lights off behind the bar.
“Hey.” Miranda called out as she watched Andy grab her cloth and start to make her way around the bar.
“Yeah?” Andrea answered as she glanced in Miranda’s direction.
“You’re American.” Miranda said dumbly.
“So I am.” Andy smirked, “Thanks for pointing that out, for years I have been thinking I was an Eskimo.”
****
Miranda groaned as the lights of The Sofia’s neon sign flickered once and then went out. Miranda pulled her handbag open and peered inside as she looked for her cell phone.
Miranda glanced up from her bag as the sound of laughter and voices filled the air. She watched as the waitress from earlier, Andrea joked with a dark haired man and then bid him good night. She was still wearing her uniform under a white coat. Before all Miranda had been able to see was her torso, granted she couldn’t see much more now, but even through the bulky coat and the folk dress Miranda could tell that the woman had an impeccable figure.
“Hey, you lied to me.” Miranda called out as Andrea turned and started to walk in the opposite direction.
Miranda started to walk back towards The Sofia as Andrea turned and smiled.
“I have a name you know.” Andy informed Miranda as she folded her arms across her chest.
Miranda nodded, “Andrea.”
“Yes?” Andrea asked with a tilt of her head.
“You said you were Bulgarian.” Miranda pointed out as she drew closer to the dark haired waitress.
Andy shook her head and smiled brightly, “No, you said I was Bulgarian.”
“You lied to me,” Miranda persisted, “you even had the accent.”
“I didn’t lie.” The brunette shrugged.
“Yes you did.” Miranda snorted.
“Ok, so I deceived you.” Andrea admitted with another shrug.
“Why?” Miranda asked, genuinely interested in why the dark haired waitress had pretended to be Bulgarian.
“Ambiance.” The brunette smiled with her arms wide. “Makes the customer’s feel better if they think they are getting an authentic Bulgarian experience.”
“Well you had me fooled.” Miranda admitted.
“I know who wouldn’t be fooled by my ‘little Bulgarian friend’ act.”
“I didn’t mean to be...” Miranda trailed off with a wince,
“Condescending?” An amused Andy offered her eyes twinkling.
“That’s one way of putting it.” Miranda grumbled, “Look...”
“I really have to get home.” Andrea interrupted as turned and took a step away from Miranda.
For some inexplicable reason Miranda had the desire to spend a little more time with Andrea. Miranda didn’t know why, but she just couldn’t let the brunette leave.
“Well can I give you a ride home? I can call my driver.” Miranda said as she opened her handbag once more and started to look for her errant cell phone once more.
“No,” Andrea shook her head, “it's only a short walk.”
“Then let me walk with you?” Miranda asked.
“I don’t know.” Andy hesitated.
“It isn’t safe to walk the streets alone.” Miranda persisted.
“Says the woman who was just standing outside the restaurant on her own.” Andrea laughed.
Miranda smiled as the lyrical laughed slowly died, “Point taken, so?”
“Ok.” Andrea finally said with a small nod.
****
Miranda found herself smiling at the brunette’s youthful exuberance. Every now and again she would turn and walk backwards, her arms would move in an excited way and a fire would dance in her eyes. All in all Miranda found herself captivated.
“So, where did you move from?” Miranda asked as she strolled along next to the dark haired waitress.
“Oh everywhere.” Andy answered enthusiastically.
“Everywhere?” Miranda asked with a quirk of her lips.
Andrea nodded, “Yes, I’m originally from Ohio. When I was seventeen, I upped sticks and left, went straight to L.A.”
“Did you want to be a star?” Miranda inquired her smile growing.
“No,” Andrea laughed, “I just wanted to see California. From there I went to Tuba city, Raton, Clarksburg. Then I headed to Akron, I stayed there for a year or two.”
Miranda nodded as her eyebrow’s started to crawl up her forehead. Apparently Andrea liked to travel, Miranda had been a few places in her life, but she hadn’t lived in as many places as Andrea and she was twice her age.
“Where did you come here from?” Miranda asked.
“I came up here from New York.” Andy said as she tilted her head upwards and started at the sky.
Miranda lifted her eyebrows in surprise. “I used to work in New York.”
“You did?” Andy asked with a smile.
“I did,” Miranda nodded, “when I was first starting out, many, many years ago. I had all these big plans, I moved to New York to go to school. You?”
Miranda watched as Andy tilted her head up towards the stars, couldn’t help her thoughts of how beautiful the younger woman she was walking with was. She had a carefree attitude that seemed to exude from every pore in her body. It was an intoxicating mix and for some inexplicable reason Miranda felt herself just wanting to be near the other woman.
Miranda suddenly realised that Andrea had continued speaking when she had asked her about her time in New York.
“Sorry?”
“I lost you for a moment there.” Andrea laughed, “I said I wanted to be a journalist, so I headed to New York.”
“How long ago did you come to Boston?” Miranda inquired.
“Not long, about five months?” Andy said with a shrug, “how long did you stay in New York for?”
“Five years, I finished school, worked at an architectural firm in Hell’s Kitchen, then I got offered a better job here in Boston, so I moved back home to Dobbs Mill.”
“Dobbs Mill? Where’s that?” Andrea asked intrigued.
Miranda couldn’t help the smile that spread over her face as she thought of her home town of Dobbs Mill.
“About fifty miles from here. It’s where I grew up. It’s a typical small town, white picket fences, town square, everybody knows everybody, and all your business.” Miranda explained with a quirk of her lips.
“Is that where he’s from?” Andrea suddenly asked to Miranda’s annoyance.
“Who?” Miranda asked as she tried to avoid answering the question posed to her. She knew very well who Andrea was referring to.
“The guy who thought the house was too big for his finger.” Andy smirked.
“Oh Stephen,” Miranda exhaled noisily, “yes, yes that’s where he’s from.”
“So you two grew up together?” Andy asked.
“Yes, he lived on the same street.” Miranda said with a reminiscing smile.
She had grown up on the same street as Stephen, he had been her best friend growing up, they had dated on and off through high school. He had always been funny, intelligent, and her ideal match. They had lost touch when she moved to New York to study and he had gone to Europe to travel. When she had returned to New England they hadn’t seen each other. That was until six years ago when they had hooked up again at a mutual friend’s dinner party. Wine, good food and excellent conversation had all contributed to Miranda falling for Stephen all over again. She had once loved the boy, but in that moment all those years ago, she had fallen in love with the man he had become.
“Do you still love him?”
“It's over now.” Miranda answered evasively.
She didn’t really want to talk about Stephen, she had been enjoying herself, and for the first time in a long time she hadn’t felt the oppressive weight her had thrown over her that day. Andrea’s sheer presence had banished all thoughts of Stephen from her mind.
“I didn’t ask that, I asked if you still love him.” Andrea persisted.
“And I answered that it’s over.” Miranda stubbornly refused to be moved.
“Yeah yeah...” Andrea chuckled softly as she allowed Miranda not to answer.
Miranda looked away and stared off into the distance. She liked to tell herself that it was over, but the truth of the matter was that she was still pinning for what she had lost. Miranda knew that Nigel was right, she had to find some way to let go, and move on.
“I haven’t been up there in almost three years.” Miranda blurted.
“Three years?” Andrea asked, shocked.
Miranda sighed and nodded, “Yeah, I should at least go and lock the front door.”
“Wait,” Andrea said as she laid a hand on Miranda’s arm to halt her progress. “You still own it?”
“Yeah.” Miranda admitted, three years and she just couldn’t bring herself to part with it.
“And it’s been sitting empty for three whole years?” Andy asked disbelievingly.
Miranda dipped her head, “Yeah, I guess I have a problem with letting go.”
“What’s it like,” Andrea asked, “I mean I saw the outside, but what is it like on the inside?”
Miranda took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She could still picture every detail as clear and crisp as when she had first put them down onto paper.
“Beautiful.” Miranda sighed, “Its everything I have ever loved about design all rolled into one house. I mean it might not be to everyone’s tastes, but it is what I have always dreamed of. I really let go and poured myself into that house.”
Miranda opened her eyes and looked at Andrea, “it's very minimal, and open, polished granite floors, and it has a great floating staircase. Huge panoramic windows, I mean you can bathe and look out over the lake and see for miles around from any point in the house.”
“Sounds wonderful.” Andy breathed.
“It is, it truly is wonderful,” Miranda admitted, “I don’t use it but I just can’t bring myself to sell it. It’s like I’m stuck in limbo, stuck in that moment when my carefully laid plans just came crashing down around me, and every time I try to change I just can’t, you know what I mean?”
“No.” Andrea smiled.
“What?” Miranda said puzzled.
She didn’t understand Andrea, one minute she thought she was getting to grips with her and the next she would throw her off balance.
“No, when I want to change I just do. I move town, or change my job, or change how I look, or who I am. Sometime I do the whole lot.” Andrea laughed with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders.
Miranda found herself laughing along, “Why I am not surprised, my little Bulgarian friend.”
“You know you can call me Andy, most people do.” Andrea offered.
Miranda shook her head. She didn’t like it, it didn’t sound right. Andrea, sounded better, exotic, it sounded natural, but more importantly it rolled of her tongue. “I’m not most people.”
“No, no you’re not.” Andrea agreed with a strange smile.
Miranda smiled back and then glanced upwards up. Her surprise was apparent as she found herself staring at the sign for The Sofia.
“Wait, were back at the restaurant?” Miranda frowned, puzzled.
Andy nodded with a smile and walked past Miranda, “Yep, I live in the apartment above the restaurant.”
“Then why did we just walk around for two hours?” Miranda asked, annoyed and perplexed. “My shoes are ruined.”
“You said you wanted to walk, so we walked.” Andy shrugged, “Besides, I am sure you can afford a new pair of shoes.”
Deciding not to argue the point Miranda started to search her bag again for her cell phone. After two minutes of fruitless searching Miranda came up empty, again. With a muttered curse she turned back to find Andy was standing in front of the restaurant side door smiling back at her.
“I can’t find my cell.” Miranda informed the smiling brunette.
Miranda watched as Andy placed her key in the lock of the restaurant side door.
“Did you leave it in the bar?” Andy asked as she glanced past Miranda towards the closed bar.
“No, I don’t think so, the last time I had it was in the back of my car.” Miranda sighed and rolled her eyes towards the heavens, “Do you mind if I come up to your apartment and call my driver or even a cab?”
“No, I don’t mind.”
Continued...
Author: Widdy
Disclaimer: I don't own the Devil Wears Prada, Miranda or Andy. I also don’t own the film Housesitter, unfortunately someone else does so I'm just borrowing them and I will return them after I'm done.
Rating: PG
Feedback: Yes feel free to feed me.
Pairing: Andrea/Miranda
Summary: When successful architect Miranda Priestly’s lover Stephen suddenly decides that their relationship is not working. Their dream house becomes nothing more than a monument to his rejection. That is until a chance encounter with a waitress turns her life upside down.
A/N: I have always loved the movie and I have been playing with this idea for months. I have changed some aspects to fit this story.
Gravel crunched under the heavy tyres as the black Mercedes Benz slowly glided to a halt.
“We’re here.” Miranda declared as her driver opened the door to her town car and then stood aside.
Miranda couldn’t help the smile from curling her lips, as she looked up at the reason she was here. She had been waiting for this day for over two years and now it was finally here. The sun was shining and a gentle breeze was blowing through the trees, it couldn’t possibly more perfect.
“Where?”Stephen asked with a confused smile.
Miranda smiled happily as she grasped Stephen’s hand and guided him from the car. She winked at her chauffer Roy as he moved back towards the front of the Mercedes.
Miranda took a deep breath as she stepped away from Stephen. She glanced over her shoulder and then nodded once to herself.
“Ok, you can open your eyes.”
Miranda watched with baited breath as Stephen did what she asked. His eyes almost popped out of their sockets as his gaze roamed over the structure behind Miranda.
“Miranda? What is this?” Stephen asked his eyes glued upon the house.
“Do you like it?” Miranda asked with a smile as she too turned towards the house.
It was everything she had ever dreamed of in a house. Modern and clean, it was beautiful sight to behold. Set back in the surrounding landscape, the house had an edgy look that mingled with a minimalist aesthetic for an ultra-modern appeal.
Miranda had designed the home, to have a sharp shape, so that it gave anyone viewing the home the feel that it was breaking through the natural landscape. She had picked the spot perfectly, overlooking a lake and the distant mountains on the horizon. Both inside and out, the modern architecture was made for the views.
The large windows covered the outside and invited in both the natural light and the outdoors. The minimalist interior boasted the simple finishes and features that you’d expect if you judge a book by its cover. She had purposely chosen contemporary, natural materials like stone, concrete and wood, and strong architectural elements added just the right interest to her design. With the ultra-modern in mind, Miranda had stayed true to her concept of a comfortable home, with the inclusion of all the usual suspects: a garage, laundry, pantry, kitchen and bathrooms, a dining area, an office, a games room, a library lounge with a home theatre, three bedrooms, and a master bedroom with en suite and walk in closet, it truly was her dream home, and was everything she had wanted to give to the man of her dreams. Stephen.
“I don’t understand?” Stephen muttered as a frown started to mar his brow.
Miranda laughed at Stephen’s puzzled look, “Stephen, will you marry me?”
“Did you buy this house?” Stephen asked, ignoring Miranda’s proposal as his frown became more pronounced.
“Buy it?” Miranda laughed, “Stephen, I designed it, I built it.”
“For who?” Stephen asked faintly.
Miranda threw up her arms and turned back towards Stephen. “For you, for us, for our future.”
“Jesus Christ Miranda!” Stephen exclaimed as he gave his head a sharp shake.
“So what do you think?” Miranda asked.
“I can’t believe you would do this.” Stephen grumbled.
“What is there to believe?” Miranda shrugged, she didn’t quite understand why Stephen was so upset. They had discussed marriage, and living together on numerous occasions. They were both forty-seven, and it wasn’t like either of them were getting any younger.
Stephen’s eyes became impossibly wide, “that you would build this house without consulting me.”
“I didn’t know that it was you who was the architect now, Stephen.” Miranda replied a touch sarcastically.
“You know I don’t mean that,” Stephen barked, “besides isn’t it me who is suppose to ask you to marry me?”
“To hell with tradition Stephen, I love you.” Miranda confessed as she took a step towards Stephen and wrapped her arms around his waist. “So will you Darling?”
“Will I what?” Stephen asked as he looked down into Miranda’s eyes.
“Marry me and make me the happiest woman alive.” Miranda smiled.
Stephen looked up at Miranda’s beautiful house once more and took a deep breath.
“No.” Stephen said bluntly with a shake of his head.
Miranda felt her whole world come crashing down around her as Stephen’s answer reverberated around her brain.
Three Years Later
It was Thursday night and Bulgarian restaurant The Sofia was full to the brim. Miranda Priestly sighed heavily as she gazed around the interior of the restaurant. It was tacky to say the least. Simple wood tables were packed tightly together and were covered in cheap white table cloths. Red candles were wedged haphazardly in empty wine bottles and place in each table with red swans made from napkins.
It wasn’t one of her usual haunts, but Nigel Kipling, her friend, and work colleague had sworn the food was to die for. Surprisingly he had been right. She had never eaten Bulgarian cuisine before and Miranda had found it to her likening.
Now the senior managing architect found herself sitting at the bar sipping sprits with her old friend and engaging in a conversation she would rather not be having.
“It's been three year’s Miranda, you need to move on.” Nigel said after he took a sip of his cocktail
Miranda sent her colleague a withering look, “I don’t recall asking for your advice Nigel.”
“No,” Nigel smiled, “but I’m giving it to you anyway. Stop moping over Stephen.”
“I am not moping!” Miranda glared as she looked down at the amber liquid lacing her glass.
“Oh you are, so he dumped you, it’s not the end of the world.” Nigel shrugged as he smiled at a passing waiter.
“He did not dump me.” Miranda snapped.
Nigel held up his hands in surrender, “Ok maybe dump is too harsh a word. He decided your relationship wasn’t working out. Get over it Miranda. Find yourself a toy boy, make him jealous.”
“I’m not looking for someone new, so I wish you would stop with your incessant pestering.” Miranda could hardly believe what Nigel was suggesting. He alone knew how hard she had taken the disintegration of her relationship with Stephen.
“You gave that man everything. You built the man a house for God’s sake.”
“Is it absolutely necessity for you to keep bring this up?” Miranda sighed as she lifted her glass to her lips and downed the burning liquid.
Nigel was right she had given Stephen everything he had asked for. She had finally thought that she had found the love of her life, only it wasn’t meant to be.
“And at the slightest sniff of commitment, he just cuts you lose.”
Miranda felt her mood dip even further as Nigel rambled on. She knew that Nigel was just trying to get her to move on with her life, but it just didn’t work. No matter how many times and ways he tried.
“You are really cheering me up Nigel.” Miranda huffed as she downed the last of her beverage.
“Oh I don’t mean to get you down,” Nigel apologised, “but I really think you need to let this thing with Stephen go.”
“I loved Stephen. I still do.” Miranda confessed softly. It wasn’t something she was prone to admitting, but Nigel was her oldest friend and if she couldn’t tell him her problems she couldn’t tell anyone.
“I know, that’s what’s unfortunate about the whole dreadful situation.” Nigel sighed with a shake of his head.
Miranda closed her eyes and looked away. She had tried to move on. She had been trying to move past that dreadful day when Stephen had stamped upon her heart. Three years and she felt like she had been standing still the whole time. Oh she had tried dating, but everyone she had met was always lacking in some way, or worse reminded her of Stephen.
Miranda found herself being drawn back to the present when Nigel’s hand landed upon her arm.
“Can I get a drink for my friend here?” Nigel said sweetly.
Miranda allowed her eyes to move away from where Nigel’s hand lay upon her arm and only to have them land upon the waitress that Nigel was speaking to. Miranda found herself mesmerised as she stared at the woman across the bar. She was dressed like all the other waitresses in the restaurant.
The traditional Bulgarian folk dress she wore was red and covered in embroidered, flowers and motifs. Dark brown hair fell in waves framing the woman's face. But it was the woman’s eyes that captured Miranda’s attention. The woman’s two chocolate brown orbs shone with mischief. As she gazed at her Miranda felt her breath hitch in her throat.
“Yes, what you like?” The woman said in a heavily accented voice.
“Champagne,” Nigel said slowly with a laugh, “we are celebrating.”
The woman nodded with a smile, “is good, what you celebrate?”
“Moving on, that’s what we are celebrating.” Nigel looked pointedly at Miranda.
Miranda watched as the woman moved away from them and returned seconds later with a bottle of chilled champagne and two flutes. She placed both on the bar and then picked up the bottle and started to remove the seal.
“I love your accent by the way.” Nigel said.
“I, no well speak English.” The woman said as she gave the bottle a small shake and then placed a cloth over the cork and twisted the piece of wood firmly.
“Where are you from?” Nigel asked as the volume in the room increased as a party at a table nearby burst into song.
“Bulgaria right?” Miranda found herself saying as the cork came free with a muted pop.
“Yes, yes, I is from Bulgaria.” The woman said with a bright smile.
Miranda accepted the flute and held it tightly as the waitress started to pour the sparkling wine into the glass.
“Have you been in American long?” Nigel asked.
The waitress frowned in confusion as she placed the bottle down on the bar in front of them. “Eh?”
“Look leave her alone, she clearly doesn’t speak English that well Nigel.” Miranda said taking pity on the poor woman.
“Andrea is to be called Andrea.” The waitress said.
“Andrea, no talk, you work!” a voice suddenly cried.
Miranda couldn’t help the frown that marred her brow as the bleach blonde man who had shouted pointed to a couple down the end of the bar who needed to be served.
“She was pretty don’t you think?” Nigel commented idly as the waitress moved away from them.
“I suppose.” Miranda replied. Pretty didn’t really cover the waitresses attractiveness, stunning was closer to what Miranda had been thinking, but she wasn’t about to admit that to herself, never mind Nigel.
“But to get back to the point in hand...”
“Nigel, I don’t want to hear it.” Miranda warned, “No amount of champagne is going to make me ready to move on.”
“You were very ready to marry Stephen, so why not ready to move on?” Nigel persisted, “What about Palo?”
Miranda groaned and took a sip of her champagne. She was sick and tired of Nigel offering up men he thought were suitable. Usually they were thirty years her junior and only interested in one thing. Money. Palo was a prime example of this.
“I’m not interested.” Miranda said with a touch of warning in her tone.
Nigel drained the last of his champagne and proceeded to pour himself another, “he’s young, ambitious...”
“Muscle-bound and a gold-digger.” Miranda interrupted angrily.
“Ok, what about Patrick?” Nigel asked.
“Too old.” Miranda countered. Patrick Furnish was almost seventy and not in good health, why Nigel thought that he was a good match for her was beyond Miranda’s comprehension.
“David?” Nigel offered with a tilt of his head.
Miranda rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to wince at the mention of David Summers. “Ugh, perpetual bad breath.”
“Michael?” Nigel tried again.
“I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer.” Miranda said with a glare.
“Ok I give up.” Nigel said as he threw up his free hand.
“Thank God!” Miranda exclaimed as Nigel rolled his eyes and topped her glass up.
****
Throwing her technical pen on the bar Miranda sighed for the hundredth time as she stared at the drawing that she held in her hands. Her life had changed so drastically in the past two years. When she had first drawn the house on the napkin Miranda had never dreamed she would be sitting in a Bulgarian restaurant feeling sorry for herself. No, she had thought she would be happily married living in her house. Stephen had well and truly put a spanner in the works.
Stephen. It was a name that caused equal measures of pain and pleasure. She had thought that she had finally found the one. She had begun to believe that with Stephen her life might finally be complete.
Things hadn’t quite turned out like that.
Miranda chuckled to herself as she let the paper napkin drift from her fingertips. As it landed with a soft rustle on the wood of the bar, a damp cloth passed close by and Miranda glanced up and met the beautiful brown eyes of the waitress she remembered was called Andrea, who Nigel had quizzed a few hours before. Miranda smiled lazily and then tapped her finger on the rim of her glass.
“Another whisky if you please, my little Bulgarian friend.”
The dark haired woman in front of her lifted her eyebrows. A minute later Miranda was watching as Andrea proceeded to pour three fingers of whisky into the glass.
The dark haired waitress leaned forward and ran her cloth over the surface of the bar. As she got close to Miranda’s hand she picked the napkin that sat in front of Miranda. She glanced at the ink drawing and then handed it back to Miranda.
“Nice huh? That’s my house; I designed and built it for the love of my life. I guess you could call it an engagement ring.”Miranda chuckled humourlessly as waved the paper napkin at Andrea.
“Only things didn’t go to plan, because when he saw the house he couldn’t get far enough away from me.” Miranda spat with a touch of bitterness.
“Story of my life, were men are concerned, I think my success scares them.” Miranda snorted and then drained the glass.
She turned back to the waitress and was about to speak again, when a small dark skinned woman with dirty blonde hair, wearing a tight fitting black coat rounded the corner. Miranda watched as she leaned over the bar and touched the Bulgarian waitress Andrea in the small of her back.
“Hey Andy, I’m getting out of here. I won’t be at the apartment; I told Doug that I would meet him for a quick drink, you coming?” The dark skinned woman asked as Andy turned and dropped the cloth upon the wood bar.
“Oh Lily, hey. You know what I’m gonna pass, I think I’ll just have an early night.”
Miranda blinked slowly as her alcohol addled brain tried to process what she was hearing.
Lily smiled and nodded, “Alright then, see you in the morning.”
“Ok, night Lils, love you.” Andy said as she leaned across the bar and met Lily’s cheek with her lips.
“Love you to, see ya.” Lily said as she quickly made her way from the bar.
Miranda blinked slowly as stared at the brunette who started to turn the lights off behind the bar.
“Hey.” Miranda called out as she watched Andy grab her cloth and start to make her way around the bar.
“Yeah?” Andrea answered as she glanced in Miranda’s direction.
“You’re American.” Miranda said dumbly.
“So I am.” Andy smirked, “Thanks for pointing that out, for years I have been thinking I was an Eskimo.”
****
Miranda groaned as the lights of The Sofia’s neon sign flickered once and then went out. Miranda pulled her handbag open and peered inside as she looked for her cell phone.
Miranda glanced up from her bag as the sound of laughter and voices filled the air. She watched as the waitress from earlier, Andrea joked with a dark haired man and then bid him good night. She was still wearing her uniform under a white coat. Before all Miranda had been able to see was her torso, granted she couldn’t see much more now, but even through the bulky coat and the folk dress Miranda could tell that the woman had an impeccable figure.
“Hey, you lied to me.” Miranda called out as Andrea turned and started to walk in the opposite direction.
Miranda started to walk back towards The Sofia as Andrea turned and smiled.
“I have a name you know.” Andy informed Miranda as she folded her arms across her chest.
Miranda nodded, “Andrea.”
“Yes?” Andrea asked with a tilt of her head.
“You said you were Bulgarian.” Miranda pointed out as she drew closer to the dark haired waitress.
Andy shook her head and smiled brightly, “No, you said I was Bulgarian.”
“You lied to me,” Miranda persisted, “you even had the accent.”
“I didn’t lie.” The brunette shrugged.
“Yes you did.” Miranda snorted.
“Ok, so I deceived you.” Andrea admitted with another shrug.
“Why?” Miranda asked, genuinely interested in why the dark haired waitress had pretended to be Bulgarian.
“Ambiance.” The brunette smiled with her arms wide. “Makes the customer’s feel better if they think they are getting an authentic Bulgarian experience.”
“Well you had me fooled.” Miranda admitted.
“I know who wouldn’t be fooled by my ‘little Bulgarian friend’ act.”
“I didn’t mean to be...” Miranda trailed off with a wince,
“Condescending?” An amused Andy offered her eyes twinkling.
“That’s one way of putting it.” Miranda grumbled, “Look...”
“I really have to get home.” Andrea interrupted as turned and took a step away from Miranda.
For some inexplicable reason Miranda had the desire to spend a little more time with Andrea. Miranda didn’t know why, but she just couldn’t let the brunette leave.
“Well can I give you a ride home? I can call my driver.” Miranda said as she opened her handbag once more and started to look for her errant cell phone once more.
“No,” Andrea shook her head, “it's only a short walk.”
“Then let me walk with you?” Miranda asked.
“I don’t know.” Andy hesitated.
“It isn’t safe to walk the streets alone.” Miranda persisted.
“Says the woman who was just standing outside the restaurant on her own.” Andrea laughed.
Miranda smiled as the lyrical laughed slowly died, “Point taken, so?”
“Ok.” Andrea finally said with a small nod.
****
Miranda found herself smiling at the brunette’s youthful exuberance. Every now and again she would turn and walk backwards, her arms would move in an excited way and a fire would dance in her eyes. All in all Miranda found herself captivated.
“So, where did you move from?” Miranda asked as she strolled along next to the dark haired waitress.
“Oh everywhere.” Andy answered enthusiastically.
“Everywhere?” Miranda asked with a quirk of her lips.
Andrea nodded, “Yes, I’m originally from Ohio. When I was seventeen, I upped sticks and left, went straight to L.A.”
“Did you want to be a star?” Miranda inquired her smile growing.
“No,” Andrea laughed, “I just wanted to see California. From there I went to Tuba city, Raton, Clarksburg. Then I headed to Akron, I stayed there for a year or two.”
Miranda nodded as her eyebrow’s started to crawl up her forehead. Apparently Andrea liked to travel, Miranda had been a few places in her life, but she hadn’t lived in as many places as Andrea and she was twice her age.
“Where did you come here from?” Miranda asked.
“I came up here from New York.” Andy said as she tilted her head upwards and started at the sky.
Miranda lifted her eyebrows in surprise. “I used to work in New York.”
“You did?” Andy asked with a smile.
“I did,” Miranda nodded, “when I was first starting out, many, many years ago. I had all these big plans, I moved to New York to go to school. You?”
Miranda watched as Andy tilted her head up towards the stars, couldn’t help her thoughts of how beautiful the younger woman she was walking with was. She had a carefree attitude that seemed to exude from every pore in her body. It was an intoxicating mix and for some inexplicable reason Miranda felt herself just wanting to be near the other woman.
Miranda suddenly realised that Andrea had continued speaking when she had asked her about her time in New York.
“Sorry?”
“I lost you for a moment there.” Andrea laughed, “I said I wanted to be a journalist, so I headed to New York.”
“How long ago did you come to Boston?” Miranda inquired.
“Not long, about five months?” Andy said with a shrug, “how long did you stay in New York for?”
“Five years, I finished school, worked at an architectural firm in Hell’s Kitchen, then I got offered a better job here in Boston, so I moved back home to Dobbs Mill.”
“Dobbs Mill? Where’s that?” Andrea asked intrigued.
Miranda couldn’t help the smile that spread over her face as she thought of her home town of Dobbs Mill.
“About fifty miles from here. It’s where I grew up. It’s a typical small town, white picket fences, town square, everybody knows everybody, and all your business.” Miranda explained with a quirk of her lips.
“Is that where he’s from?” Andrea suddenly asked to Miranda’s annoyance.
“Who?” Miranda asked as she tried to avoid answering the question posed to her. She knew very well who Andrea was referring to.
“The guy who thought the house was too big for his finger.” Andy smirked.
“Oh Stephen,” Miranda exhaled noisily, “yes, yes that’s where he’s from.”
“So you two grew up together?” Andy asked.
“Yes, he lived on the same street.” Miranda said with a reminiscing smile.
She had grown up on the same street as Stephen, he had been her best friend growing up, they had dated on and off through high school. He had always been funny, intelligent, and her ideal match. They had lost touch when she moved to New York to study and he had gone to Europe to travel. When she had returned to New England they hadn’t seen each other. That was until six years ago when they had hooked up again at a mutual friend’s dinner party. Wine, good food and excellent conversation had all contributed to Miranda falling for Stephen all over again. She had once loved the boy, but in that moment all those years ago, she had fallen in love with the man he had become.
“Do you still love him?”
“It's over now.” Miranda answered evasively.
She didn’t really want to talk about Stephen, she had been enjoying herself, and for the first time in a long time she hadn’t felt the oppressive weight her had thrown over her that day. Andrea’s sheer presence had banished all thoughts of Stephen from her mind.
“I didn’t ask that, I asked if you still love him.” Andrea persisted.
“And I answered that it’s over.” Miranda stubbornly refused to be moved.
“Yeah yeah...” Andrea chuckled softly as she allowed Miranda not to answer.
Miranda looked away and stared off into the distance. She liked to tell herself that it was over, but the truth of the matter was that she was still pinning for what she had lost. Miranda knew that Nigel was right, she had to find some way to let go, and move on.
“I haven’t been up there in almost three years.” Miranda blurted.
“Three years?” Andrea asked, shocked.
Miranda sighed and nodded, “Yeah, I should at least go and lock the front door.”
“Wait,” Andrea said as she laid a hand on Miranda’s arm to halt her progress. “You still own it?”
“Yeah.” Miranda admitted, three years and she just couldn’t bring herself to part with it.
“And it’s been sitting empty for three whole years?” Andy asked disbelievingly.
Miranda dipped her head, “Yeah, I guess I have a problem with letting go.”
“What’s it like,” Andrea asked, “I mean I saw the outside, but what is it like on the inside?”
Miranda took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She could still picture every detail as clear and crisp as when she had first put them down onto paper.
“Beautiful.” Miranda sighed, “Its everything I have ever loved about design all rolled into one house. I mean it might not be to everyone’s tastes, but it is what I have always dreamed of. I really let go and poured myself into that house.”
Miranda opened her eyes and looked at Andrea, “it's very minimal, and open, polished granite floors, and it has a great floating staircase. Huge panoramic windows, I mean you can bathe and look out over the lake and see for miles around from any point in the house.”
“Sounds wonderful.” Andy breathed.
“It is, it truly is wonderful,” Miranda admitted, “I don’t use it but I just can’t bring myself to sell it. It’s like I’m stuck in limbo, stuck in that moment when my carefully laid plans just came crashing down around me, and every time I try to change I just can’t, you know what I mean?”
“No.” Andrea smiled.
“What?” Miranda said puzzled.
She didn’t understand Andrea, one minute she thought she was getting to grips with her and the next she would throw her off balance.
“No, when I want to change I just do. I move town, or change my job, or change how I look, or who I am. Sometime I do the whole lot.” Andrea laughed with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders.
Miranda found herself laughing along, “Why I am not surprised, my little Bulgarian friend.”
“You know you can call me Andy, most people do.” Andrea offered.
Miranda shook her head. She didn’t like it, it didn’t sound right. Andrea, sounded better, exotic, it sounded natural, but more importantly it rolled of her tongue. “I’m not most people.”
“No, no you’re not.” Andrea agreed with a strange smile.
Miranda smiled back and then glanced upwards up. Her surprise was apparent as she found herself staring at the sign for The Sofia.
“Wait, were back at the restaurant?” Miranda frowned, puzzled.
Andy nodded with a smile and walked past Miranda, “Yep, I live in the apartment above the restaurant.”
“Then why did we just walk around for two hours?” Miranda asked, annoyed and perplexed. “My shoes are ruined.”
“You said you wanted to walk, so we walked.” Andy shrugged, “Besides, I am sure you can afford a new pair of shoes.”
Deciding not to argue the point Miranda started to search her bag again for her cell phone. After two minutes of fruitless searching Miranda came up empty, again. With a muttered curse she turned back to find Andy was standing in front of the restaurant side door smiling back at her.
“I can’t find my cell.” Miranda informed the smiling brunette.
Miranda watched as Andy placed her key in the lock of the restaurant side door.
“Did you leave it in the bar?” Andy asked as she glanced past Miranda towards the closed bar.
“No, I don’t think so, the last time I had it was in the back of my car.” Miranda sighed and rolled her eyes towards the heavens, “Do you mind if I come up to your apartment and call my driver or even a cab?”
“No, I don’t mind.”
Continued...