(no subject)
A smooth stroke of red was painted across the canvas of a pair of luscious lips already adorned with the same color. The same beautiful mouth sucked in its lips as an elegant, freshly manicured hand dabbed away what little excess had been smeared off the lips. Miranda Priestly laid down her Chanel hydro-based lipstick and straightened herself as she finished touching up her makeup. She smirked at her reflection. Rouge Orage was such a good color on her. She concentrated on the image displayed by the mirror as she fixed the collar of her Liz Claiborne yarn-dyed striped poplin shirt. She lightly touched her silver hair before she turned to leave her private bathroom connected to her office in the Elias-Clark building.
Pulling the handle, she walked through the door, her black stilettos gently tapping against the cream carpetting of her office. She scowled at her desk as she moved to sit in her chair behind it. Could no one do anything right around here? She sighed frustratedly and called for her newest assistant.
"Ahn-dree-ah!"
She heard a faint rustling of papers. She rolled her eyes. Why couldn't that girl just come when she was called?
"Ahn-dree-ah!" she called a little more snappishly, still refusing to raise her voice.
The pale figure of Andrea ... whatever her last name was (Miranda Priestly didn't have the time to remember such trivial things) ... walked through the doorway dividing their offices. Miranda examined her thoroughly, her eyes moving and down at a level pace, as she approached her desk. The poor, pathetic girl was wearing the fall fashion from last year. She seriously needed to update her wardrobe again. Her gaze consentrated on her makeup, studying it thoroughly, and eventually rested on her lips. MAC ruby red was a decent shade on her. As she was admiring her lovely lips, she noticed them begin to move.
"Yes, Mir-"
"Is there a reason why you place something so disposable as paper on a higher level of importance than me?"
Andrea Sachs stopped in her tracks, looking confused.
"I - I'm sorry, Miranda. I-"
"Where's my coffee?" Miranda cut her off yet again.
"I'll go it right now."
The infamous "Dragon Lady" watched as her assistant rushed out of her office to comply to her wishes. Hmmm. Had she lost some weight? She picked up a copy of The New Yorker and spun around in her chair to face the large windows that created half of her office walls.