DWP fan fic story - Like Andrea pt 2
For disclaimers see the post for Part 1
Love?
Andy questioned that thought all the way back to her apartment. She hadn’t actually let herself think about that particular option before; never seriously thought beyond enjoying the dreams she had experienced. Fascination, yes. Lust, certainly. Love? It didn’t seem possible. However, try as she might, Andy just couldn’t come up with any other word that described how she felt about her, utterly fascinating, strikingly beautiful ex-boss. Not now, not after seeing her so vulnerable.
That worried her more than she thought possible; the glazed look in the blue eyes, the drawling words. Miranda had scoffed at the idea of drugs, but after talking to Miranda it seemed to be more and more likely. Which was also quite heartbreaking, because it meant she didn’t really mean what she’d said, about…everything. About me. The older woman’s voice floated through her head, two words that grabbed her guts and twisted. My Andrea.
She shook her head and entered her apartment, only now realizing she still carried the half full cup of coffee. She started to throw it away and then reconsidered. Her job at the paper paid enough, but she was well aware of certain economic realities. “Why waste it?” She asked herself, and stuck it in the fridge. “I can heat it up tomorrow morning with breakfast.”
She glanced at the clock. The slow walk home had taken quite some time and now, if she was indeed going to be ready to have dinner with Miranda... Oh God. The thought struck her. I’m going to have dinner with Miranda! Her heart beat faster and she began to frantically prepare. A bath would have made her feel so much cleaner, but a long decently hot shower was going to have to do. The minutes quickly ticked by and when she was finally clean and dry, the arduous task of choosing what to wear began. “What the hell am I supposed to wear to have dinner with Miranda, the person who decides what fashion is…at her own house!?”
The impossible decision was made even more difficult due to her choices. If she’d had only one or two dresses to choose from it would have been much easier, but she had several very nice pieces leftover from her Runway days and a few she’d acquired since then.
The running discussion with herself about which outfit to choose and the almost frantic search through her closet had yielded some progress. It was, finally, down to two choices. “She said I looked lovely at the thing six months ago…” Eyeing that dress, she sighed. “It is nice, but more for a big event…not an intimate dinner in someone’s home.” She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. “Oh God, did I just say ‘intimate’?” She shook her head and hugged herself. “Okay… none of that…not intimate… control yourself.” Closing her eyes, Andy let herself remember the feeling of Miranda’s hand gently touching her hair, then shook herself out of it and glanced at the clock. “No time for this!” Without any further monologue, Andy grabbed the more casual of the two dresses, basic black, and quickly prepared to meet the car downstairs. She left her hair minimally styled, just falling to her shoulders in soft waves.
Andy checked the contents of her small clutch purse. Not that she’d need anything tonight but her apartment key, but it made her feel better to have a few dollars, her ID and if she had a tube of the lipstick Miranda approved of too, that was just a coincidence, right? Then the distinctive horn of Miranda’s car sent her nearly flying out the door and down the stairs. For a moment she had the oddest ‘Cinderella’ sensation. Roy waiting next to the car, opening the door for her when she arrived again made her feel a bit like royalty. Miranda does this all the time. She thought. It kind of explained the attitude Miranda had, at least Andy thought so. How could someone be treated like royalty all the time and not begin to believe they are?
I am not royalty, she thought and spoke casually when the car began to move.
“Roy, it’s good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you too Andy.” He kept his eyes on the road ahead for quite a while, then spoke quietly. “Can you help her?”
“God, I hope so.” Andy felt her chest nearly cave in, realizing this was someone she could talk to. “What’s been happening?”
“It’s just so strange. It wasn’t so regular at first, I barely noticed a difference, I just thought she was working too hard. But now… She’s usually fine in the morning, especially so on Mondays.” Roy started slowly. “Some days at lunch she seems kind of out of it…nearly always by the time she heads home. It’s like she can’t focus, can’t… think…”
Andy interrupted. “Have you ever seen her… taking anything?”
“Drugs?” Roy gripped the wheel tighter. “No way!” The man’s voice cracked. “I’ve been her driver for a long time… and I’ve never…She would never take drugs…”
Andy sighed and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I know, I’m just grasping at straws I guess.” Drugs were just so much better than the alternative, the unthinkable, and Roy’s next words chilled her.
“She’s just not, herself.”
Andy leaned forward in the seat. “How was she tonight, when you took her home?”
“Bad.” Roy admitted. “As bad as I’ve seen so far.” He reached down to the seat next to him and lifted the current ‘brunette’ issue of Runway into view. “This is a cry for help.” He said and glanced up into the mirror. “Help her Andy.”
“I will,” Andy vowed to him, to herself and then to an absent Miranda. “I will.”
------------------
Her heart was beating franticly as Roy escorted her to the door of the townhouse. She reached for the doorbell with a trembling hand and thought she was going to faint when the door opened.
“Good evening, Ms. Priestly.” Roy bowed slightly at the waist. “What time should I come ‘round to take the young lady home?”
Lazy blue eyes moved up and down Andrea’s body. “We may be late, talking.” Miranda involuntarily licked her lips. “I’ll just call a cab when she’s ready to leave. I don’t have any meetings this weekend either, so I’ll see you on Monday.”
“Very well, but call me if you need me.” He tilted his head at them. “Good night ladies.” And was gone.
“Andrea.” Miranda’s smoky voice curled around her. “Come in.”
Said the spider to the fly. Andy thought and stepped over the threshold. If she thought she’d stepped into the Twilight Zone exiting the elevator at Elias-Clarke earlier today, the door closing behind her pushed her into a whole new level of weird. Something she wasn’t sure she could even begin to describe. Miranda’s home. Andy tried to stay calm and reminded herself. I’m standing in Miranda’s home, as a guest, not delivering the Book. That thought did absolutely nothing to calm her pounding heart. Oh God.
“Andrea.” Miranda looped her arm around her guest’s, linking their elbows. “You look lovely tonight.”
Andy automatically patted the hand curled around her forearm. “Thank you. You look amazing yourself.” She had always thought Miranda looked good in this particular shade of green. Of course, she thought Miranda looked good in anything she wore. Daring to look closely into the older woman’s eyes, Andy’s heart fluttered slightly with despair. The slightly glazed look she’d seen earlier was still there, maybe even a little more unfocused than before. Roy was right, this is bad. She allowed herself to be guided into the kitchen, where a fully set table greeted her.
“I didn’t want to use the formal dining room for just the two of us.”
Andy thought Miranda seemed almost apologetic. Which was totally out of character and just so wrong it was indescribable.
“Of course not.” Andy smiled down at the anxious woman and assured her. “This is perfect.” She accepted the chair offered and watched carefully as Miranda sat opposite her then turned her attention to the plate in front of her. Lifting the cover from the plate, Andy inhaled deeply. “Mmmm… it smells wonderful.” It was also quite warm and she cautiously asked. “Miranda, did you cook this?” She wasn’t sure using the stove was a good idea for the woman given her state of mind.
“No.” The white head bowed. “Smith and Wollensky delivered it a few minutes before you got here.”
“Oh, good.” Andy smiled as Miranda’s head snapped up and she explained quickly. “I wouldn’t want you to slave over a hot stove just for me.”
“I would.” Miranda vowed and reached toward her guest. “I would cook for you, anything you want.”
Andy caught the hand and gently pressed the back of it against her cheek, as she had done in the office earlier. “I know you would, but I’m glad you didn’t because now we can enjoy our meal without you being exhausted or stressed from preparing it.” Slowly releasing the hand in hers, Andy picked up a fork. She had actually taken a bite before she realized what she was eating. “Miranda, is this chicken marsala?” Her host’s eyes widened.
“Yes, don’t you like it? I can send it back…”
“No… no, it’s delicious.” Andy assured her. “I just… I don’t remember it being on their menu.”
“It isn’t.” Miranda anxiously watched her guest’s expression. “Victor made it, special for you.”
Andy forced herself to breathe. “Um… thank you?” It seemed like an inadequate thing to say for such a wonderful gesture. “But… why…um… how did you know I like it?”
“I worked with you for nearly a year Andrea, one hears things.” Miranda swallowed against her dry mouth and took a sip of her wine. “I remember you told Emily that the boy you were…” Her eyes fluttered momentarily. “… living with at the time had made for you. You said it was your favorite. Is it not anymore?”
Andy looked at the woman across from her with unabashed awe. “You are amazing. I barely remember having that conversation. How do you remember it?” Especially now.
“I remember things that are important to me.”
Andy was skeptical. “My favorite food is important to you?”
“Everything about you is important to me Andrea.” Miranda’s nostrils flared as she speared a small bite of her own meal. Everything.
Unable to respond to that statement, Andy concentrated on eating her delicious meal and drinking the wine that complemented the food perfectly. Before she knew it they were finished and Miranda cleared the plates, quickly replacing the main course with a tiny, but deliciously decadent, dessert. “Oh, this looks wonderful.” Also not on the menu, Andy knew.
“Enjoy it, please.” Miranda took her seat.
“Aren’t you having any?” She scooped a spoonful of chocolaty goodness but paused with the spoon just in front of her lips. “It makes me feel funny to eat dessert without you.”
“No. Please.” Miranda rested her chin on her closed fist. “Continue.”
Andy, unable to keep her eyes off Miranda, slowly sucked the fluffy chocolate off the spoon, moaning in appreciation at the taste. She savored the flavor for a long moment then smiled at her dining partner. “You have got to try this.” Gathering a small bite onto the spoon, Andy held it out for Miranda to take. “Please, it’s so good!” She waved the spoon close to the older woman’s mouth. “C’mon… one bite. It’s mostly air anyway.”
Leaning forward Miranda opened her mouth and took the bite Andrea offered her. The chocolate explosion in her mouth drew a pleased sound from her as well. “You’re right, it is delicious.” Miranda licked her lips and gazed at Andrea. “Perhaps I should give in to temptation more often.”
Suddenly Andy knew how to describe the feeling she’d experienced when she arrived. “I am so not in Kansas anymore.” She didn’t realize she’d even spoken out loud. The older woman stiffened her spine and spoke almost coldly.
“I suppose that makes me the wicked witch?” Pushing away from the table quickly, she walked out of the room, unaware that Andy had just as quickly followed her.
“No.” Andy caught up with her hostess in the parlor. Miranda was looking out the window into her backyard garden. “No.” She repeated then gently placed a hand on the upset woman’s shoulder, turning her so they faced each other. “That isn’t what I meant.”
“Then…what?” Miranda was shaking.
“I just meant, this is all so…different from what I’m used to, it’s like Oz, colorful and wonderful, but very, very different from my normal life.” Cupping the older woman’s face in one of what to her had always felt like abnormally large hands, Andy urged Miranda’s head up so their eyes could meet. “You are absolutely not the wicked witch.” She slid her hand lightly down the side of the green dress Miranda wore so gracefully. “You are obviously the Queen of Emerald City.”
Miranda was breathless. “Andrea.” Her mind cleared for a moment and her blue eyes focused on the younger woman. She wrapped her arms around Andy’s waist and felt the girl move into the embrace, lanky arms circling her shoulders. Miranda nearly sobbed at the overwhelming comfort of the gesture. “Andrea, I’m…frightened.”
“Shhh…” Andy tucked the white head under her chin, thankful that she was wearing heels and Miranda wasn’t. She slowly stroked the woman’s back. “It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.” Her arms tightened around Miranda. “I’ll help you.” She loosened the embrace and led Miranda by the hand to the sofa. They sat and when Miranda seemed unwilling to let go Andy wrapped one arm around the older woman, allowing the white head to rest on her shoulder. As Miranda snuggled in as close as she could, Andy couldn’t help but smile. Miranda, a snuggler, who would have thought? The problem was no one would have, because it was totally out of character for the Miranda anyone knew to be acting this way. Andy needed to find out why. “Miranda, can you tell me what’s been happening with you lately?”
If a finished issue of Runway had been produced, whatever was going on with Miranda had been going on for several months at least. “How’ve you been feeling?” It took a minute, but Miranda finally responded.
“lost.”
Andy closed her eyes at the vulnerability that word conveyed. It was not an admission anyone expected from the publishing titan. Squeezing the shoulders under her arm, Andy lay her cheek on the white head so near hers and whispered. “You aren’t lost. You’re safe right here with me.” She waited for the return squeeze and prompted for more. “How long have you been feeling this way?” The answer wasn’t entirely unexpected.
“I think it started a little more than three months ago.”
Andy nodded. The timing would be right for the issue of Runway to be finished now. “What does it feel like?” She held her breath and waited, not wanting to hear the classic symptoms of the unthinkable falling from Miranda’s lips.
“Things were very stressful at the office. Emily had hired a girl that gave new meaning to the word incompetent. The layouts for every account were all wrong.” She gave Andy a detailed description of the sets, models, fashions and even makeup artist’s total lack of professionalism before she took a deep breath and added, “And to top it all off…” She looked up and traced Andrea’s cheekbone with her fingertip. “I hadn’t laid eyes on you in nearly three months.”
Closing her eyes, Andy partially focused on the caress, but mostly gave her thanks to whatever powers may be that the unthinkable was now dismissed. If Miranda remembered all those recent events in so much detail, the unthinkable was out of the picture. “So what changed?”
“Nothing.” Miranda sighed. “Everything.” It was clear she didn’t have an explanation for it. “Just one day I looked around and was, calm.”
Andy’s eyes widened. “Calm?”
Miranda nodded. “Very calm. Too calm. Fuzzy, dizzy, unfocused, drifting, sleepy… calm.” Her voice took on an odd tone. “I didn’t really care about anything, I was just drifting along, lost in daydreams…” of you.
“Did you go to the doctor?” Andy chuckled to herself and answered her own question. “Of course you didn’t. Sorry.” She removed the hand still wandering the planes of her face and held it firmly. “What did you do?”
Miranda shrugged. “Ordered more coffee and continued to work.” She thought back to those weird times. “I knew I was making strange decisions, I slowly began to choose brunette models over all others. I knew people were beginning to talk about it, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.” She started to become angry. “Why didn’t anyone say anything to me? Why didn’t they at least try to stop me? They had time; it takes months to produce an issue.”
“That’s easy.” Andy was good with questions that had simple answers. “You would have fired them.”
“Of course.” The woman nodded, the friction of her cheek against Andy’s shoulder causing a thrill through her. “But once I came to my senses I’d have rehired them.”
Andy laughed. “Do you know the meaning of that word, rehire? It means you’d have to take back someone you’d fired. You’d basically have to admit you were wrong to fire them; that you had made a mistake.” Andy rubbed the shoulder under her hand. “I don’t think anyone at Runway believes you would do that.”
“Admit to being wrong?”
“No.” Andy chuckled. “Make a mistake.”
Miranda snorted. “I’ve made plenty of mistakes Andrea. The divorces prove that.”
“That’s personal, I mean professionally.” She smiled. “Pretty much everyone who works at Runway considers you the Goddess of Fashion, infallible as far as the fashion world is concerned.”
Miranda sat up, moving back slightly to see Andy’s face. “Is that how you saw me? When you worked there?”
Bowing her head, to avoid looking Miranda in the eye, Andy nodded. “Yes, of course.” Then she added, “For a while.”
“Is that why you left?” Miranda shifted, a few inches farther away. “You had a crisis of faith in your ‘Goddess’ and decided walking away was the best solution?”
Andy thought about it. “Yeah, kinda. By then I didn’t see you as only the Goddess anymore… I’d seen, glimpses, of the ‘real’ you.”
“Ah.” Now Miranda thought she understood. “Scary.”
“No,” Andy protested. “That’s not it.” She tried to organize her thoughts. “As much as I loved being in the presence of the Goddess… it was too hard to know there was a real person inside that I was being kept away from. I wanted to know her, you, the real you. Understanding that want and knowing it would never be allowed was too much. I had to leave. Staying would have broken me.” Miranda had shifted again, and was now sitting next to the arm of the sofa, as far away from Andy as she could get and still be on the same piece of furniture.
“So instead, you broke me.” Miranda stood, needing to move, she paced back to the window.
“I didn’t mean to, I didn’t know it was even possible.” Andy’s voice quavered a little. “I hope it’s not the real you that’s moving away from me now.”
“why?”
“Because I may never get to touch the Goddess, but I really enjoy holding the real you.” Andy smiled as the white head whipped around to look at her. “And I was hoping it meant you’d forgiven me… taken me back.”
“Andrea.” Miranda moved back to the sofa and resumed her position with her head on the younger woman’s shoulder. “Is that what you want… to be taken back?”
“Not to Runway.” Andy made that clear. “I have a job that I love.” Closing her eyes she savored the feel of Miranda in her arms. “I would like to be okay with you though, personally.”
Miranda laughed, a full joyous laugh. “Andrea… how many people do you think exist on this planet that can storm into my office, yell at me, basically tell me I’m insane, accuse me of doing drugs and then end up at my house that evening for dinner, feed me dessert, and…then…” She wiggled a little. “…whatever this is.”
“Um… is this a trick question?”
Grunting at that, Miranda shook her head. “No trick. It’s a simple answer, exactly one person in all the world could ever get away with all that, and that, my dear, is you.” She spoke smugly. “I think it’s safe to say you are ‘okay’ with me, personally.”
“Why?” Andy found herself playing absently with the white locks under her fingers. “Why me?”
“When you first saw the issue, what did you think? What did you feel?”
Andy admitted. “I was worried about you.”
“You’re the only one, the only one to stand up to me, to challenge my decisions. Everyone else simply dismissed me as being a lunatic or went along with me no matter how crazy they thought I was.” Miranda swallowed hard. “You cared.” She pulled her head back a little, to see the face above her. “Why is that Andrea?” She pushed the subject. “Why do you care?”
“You fascinate me.” Andy looked down into curious blue eyes. She inhaled deeply; the woman’s unique scent was, intoxicating. She wanted so badly to shift, just slightly, and kiss her, but the memory of the glazed look held her back. She would not initiate anything like that while Miranda was still, not Miranda. Andy couldn’t help shake the feeling that drugs were involved somehow. “You’re smart, and funny, and oh so beautiful.” She smiled. “Unbeknownst to most people, you are kind, and compassionate.” She grinned at the scoff and tapped the woman’s nose. “I’ve seen you with the girls and I know about the charities.” Andy nodded as a faint blush colored Miranda’s porcelain cheeks. “What’s not to care about?”
“Funny.” The older woman rubbed Andy’s stomach, feeling the flutter there. “Those are almost the same reasons I could give you for why you can get away with challenging me.” Shifting impossibly closer, Miranda yawned, closed her eyes and murmured, “Sleepy.”
“Mmmm…” Andy shook her companion gently. “I’ll call a cab. You need to sleep.” She was surprised at the strength in the arms immediately tightening around her.
“No.” Miranda took a deep breath. “Don’t go. Please.” The look in her eyes made it very clear she wasn’t just asking for a few more minutes.
Oh God. Andy closed her eyes, logic first. “Miranda, I can’t sleep in this.” She indicated her dress.
“S’okay. I have something you can wear.”
“Miranda, I’m not sure my staying is such a good idea.” Andy swallowed hard at the hurt crossing the older woman’s face. She spoke gently and truthfully. “There is something going on with you Miranda, something’s wrong and you know it. I don’t want to…take advantage of that. I don’t want you to do anything that you might have…regrets about, later… when you’re better.”
“Then you must stay.”
Shifting and standing, Miranda held out her hand to her guest. “Because I will certainly regret it, if I let you leave.” With barely a twinge of embarrassment, she admitted, “I don’t want to be alone in the house tonight.” Sensing the girl’s reluctance, she conditionally agreed with the girl. “I have guest rooms.” That almost had Andrea where she wanted and Miranda played her ace, letting the lost feelings she’d had for the last several weeks seep into her eyes and voice, “Please, don’t leave me alone tonight.”
Andy melted. “Okay.” She took the offered hand and followed the older woman upstairs. Guest rooms she thought I can deal with that, I think. It obviously wasn’t a guest room they entered though and Andy voiced that as she looked around. “Miranda, this is not a guest room.”
The white head shook. “No, it’s my bedroom. Wait here.” She walked through a door on the other side of the room and returned after a few moments. “The girls bought these for their father for some occasion or another.” She lied and handed Andy the pajamas. “He never liked them.”
Accepting the clothes, Andy looked back toward the door to the hall. “Where can I change?”
Miranda pointed to another door across the room. “Bathroom.” She saw the look and flared her nostrils. “Andrea, don’t argue with me. I need you to stay with me, at least until I fall asleep. That’s all.”
“Until you fall asleep?”
“Yes.” Miranda nodded. “After that, if you must, you can go, pick a room. There are several to choose from.”
“I’ll stay in a guest room.” Andy wanted to be clear about that.
Miranda agreed, reluctantly. “If you must.”
Nodding, the girl smiled slightly. “Okay. Be right back,” and then exited through the bathroom door.
--------------------------
Andy looked around the huge bathroom and exhaled in a slow low whistle. “Wow.” The room was probably larger than the living room in her apartment. She didn’t want to waste a whole lot of time looking around, but she quickly scanned the room taking in the double vanity sink, the deep Jacuzzi tub, and the huge shower stall before she checked all the cabinets and drawers. Not that she didn’t trust Miranda’s word about the drug issue but if that was the cause, the woman would hardly be truthful about it now, would she? It was a huge relief when all Andy found were a few cough drops.
Changing quickly into the soft pajamas, she snorted in surprise at the fit. It was almost like they were made for her, then she remembered whose they were, who they’d been meant for and closed her eyes at the thought. Miranda’s ex-husband, someone Miranda had children with, someone Miranda had loved, touched…. Andy shook herself out of that line of thinking. That way leads to madness.
Andy walked out of the bathroom to find that Miranda had already changed into her night clothes; a two piece pair of pajamas very similar to the ones she wore herself.
“You haven’t taken off your makeup yet Andrea.” Miranda reluctantly moved toward the bathroom and literally pushed the younger woman back inside. They stood in front of the double sink as Miranda spoke coolly. “You must do that, every night. Your skin will thank you when you are older.” She handed her guest a washcloth and casually continued, even though her insides were twisting with fear. “I assume you didn’t find the drugs you were looking for in here.” Miranda trained her blue eyes on the mirror’s reflection of her companion. “You are more than welcome to search the rest of the house.”
“No.” Andy finished washing her face. “It was a crazy idea anyway, you don’t do drugs and wouldn’t with the girls in the house.” Now that she said it out loud, Andy realized something. “Oh.”
Miranda blinked. “Oh?”
“I mean… when the thought of drugs popped in my head earlier I was thinking that you were the one taking them…I mean… on purpose.”
Laughing, Miranda continued to remove her makeup, slowly. “You think I accidentally took drugs?”
Andy’s dark head shook. “No, not accidentally… unknowingly.”
Now Miranda’s eyes widened. “You think someone is drugging me?!” She shook her head. “That’s….that’s…ridiculous. Why would anyone do that?” It did make sense though, with the way she had been feeling.
“To ruin the magazine? To ruin you?” Andy asked the first question the police always asked in the movies. “Who would have a grudge against you?”
“Ha!” Miranda actually laughed as she scrubbed around her nose. “Are you kidding?”
Andy rolled her eyes. “Right... sorry.” She rinsed out the washcloth and murmured. “Forgot who I was talking to for a minute.” This new line of thinking had her excited though, she felt close to solving the puzzle. “I need some paper and a pen… or even better, access to a spreadsheet program.”
Miranda finished her task and nodded, keeping her eyes on the sink. “Yes, in the study. My laptop is on the desk.”
“Great.” She started toward the door and the stopped. “Um… where is that?”
“Downstairs, it’s the door across from the table where you put the Book.” Miranda took a deep breath, to steel herself for the shocked reaction. She knew without makeup she looked quite different. Her husbands had always complained about it, Stephen even called her ‘frumpy’ without the face paint. Resigned to the inevitable, Miranda looked up at her guest. “How long will you be?”
Andy shrugged. “Dunno. Shouldn’t take too long though.” She brushed some white hair away from Miranda’s forehead and kissed the space created. “Get some sleep. We can go over my theory tomorrow.” Andy began to walk out of the room.
No reaction at all. Miranda swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. Wrong, there was a reaction, she kissed you. She wondered if there was an imprint of the girl’s lips on her forehead; she felt branded. Not in a bad way though; in a good way, a very, very good way.
“Andrea,” she waited for her guest to pause. “You’ll need the password. It’s written on a post-it in the right hand drawer.”
Smiling, Andy nodded. “Thank you.” Then she was out the door.
Miranda closed her eyes for a long moment. “No.” She wiped away a tear that had escaped its prison and whispered, “Thank you.”
-----------------
Andy found the study easily and was so focused on her task that she’d sat down in the chair and powered up the computer before she realized exactly where she was and what she was doing. My God I’m in Miranda’s study, sitting in her chair, getting ready to use her computer. The screen prompted her for the password and she took a deep breath, opening the drawer to find the post-it. Her forehead wrinkled and it took her a minute of looking at her own name written on the little yellow paper to understand its significance. No way. Thinking it was a joke she typed Andy Sachs into the password window and blinked as the machine obediently continued with its startup routine. Oz for sure. She thought and clicked on the Excel icon.
Using her knowledge of Miranda’s usual day, Andy quickly set up the spreadsheet. Mostly to organize her thoughts, trying to do it in her head was just too hard to keep everything straight. What she was looking for was the opportunity someone would have to get close enough to Miranda to administer the drug. It would have to be something in her food. No one touches her, and she would obviously notice if someone was giving her a shot. Roy said she wasn’t as bad in the mornings…but sometimes out of it by noon…
Andy concentrated on the morning schedule she remembered and knew there was only one possibility. How stupid are you? She berated herself for not seeing the obvious, sooner. Staring at the screen, clicking the mouse and typing on the keyboard to organize the information, she didn’t notice the front door opening, or the click of high heels on the hall floor. The closet door closing broke through her focus. Oh no! The Book! She thought and looked up at the open door to the study to see a familiar outline. Emily.
“What do you think you are doing?!” The English woman’s temper snapped and she hissed, “You can’t be here!” She reached for her phone. “I’m calling the police!”
Without thinking, Andy stood and walked around the desk toward the irate woman. She held out her hands to calm her down. “No, it’s okay, really.”
Emily’s mouth fell open and the phone fell to the floor. “You’re wearing pajamas!” Her eyes narrowed. “What are you playing at?”
Andy sighed. “Emily, I’ll explain everything to you, but not now okay?”
She wasn’t convinced and reached down to retrieve her phone. “I’m calling the police.” Her fingers once again went numb as a voice floated down from the stairs.
“Emily.”
Swallowing hard, the red-head tilted up, scanning the darkened staircase, very much like she was praying to an unseen God or in this case, Goddess. “Yes, Miranda?” There was a seemingly long pause.
“That’s all.”
Andy shrugged and spoke softly. “I’ll talk to you Monday.”
Huffing her dismay at the situation, the only thing that kept Emily from stomping back out the door was that she didn’t want to damage Miranda’s hardwood floors with her heels. She did manage to control herself enough not to slam the door behind her.
Shaking her head sadly, Andy watched her go and sighed. She hoped she could smooth this over with the woman somehow. Miranda’s voice pulled her from that train of thought.
“Andrea.”
Andy looked up at the dark staircase, even though there was no way she’d be able to see Miranda standing there, any more than Emily could have seen the woman. Andy knew that she was the one who now looked like she was praying. “Yes Miranda?”
“Are you nearly finished?”
“Yes Miranda. I just need to shut everything down.” Andy smiled at the response.
“Very well.”
It didn’t take long to shut down the computer and flip off the lights. Aware that she had promised Miranda to stay with her until she fell asleep, and knowing that Miranda was not yet asleep, Andy returned to the master bedroom. The room was already dark, and through the dim light from the window she could see Miranda’s form in the bed. Crossing the room, she sat on top of the covers with her back against the headboard. “So…” She absently began playing with the intriguing white hair under her hand. “Emily.”
“Hmmm…” Rolling to face the other woman in her bed, Miranda tucked the pillow under her head and looked up at the brunette sleepily. “Indeed. You’d think after four months that girl she hired would be delivering it.”
“What?” She touched Miranda’s shoulder and shook it slightly. “What?”
“That girl, the incompetent one, you’d think she’d be delivering the Book by now.” Miranda grinned at the memory playing itself behind her closed eyes. “Even you were delivering it by now.”
Against her better judgment, Andy slid down on the bed and lay on her side, facing Miranda. She gently traced the contours of her companion’s face. “I know how they’ve been drugging you, and now I think I know who…” She smiled into, now open, blue eyes. “What I don’t know yet is why.”
Miranda took the information well. The widened blue eyes slowly closed and she murmured, “I knew you’d make everything okay.” The older woman’s breath evened out as she drifted off to sleep, unable to fight the crash from whatever drugs had been snuck into her system. “My Andrea.”
Andy rested her head on her hand and watched the sleeping woman for a long moment. She thought about the last comment and whispered softly. “You bet I am.”
-----------------
TBC...
Love?
Andy questioned that thought all the way back to her apartment. She hadn’t actually let herself think about that particular option before; never seriously thought beyond enjoying the dreams she had experienced. Fascination, yes. Lust, certainly. Love? It didn’t seem possible. However, try as she might, Andy just couldn’t come up with any other word that described how she felt about her, utterly fascinating, strikingly beautiful ex-boss. Not now, not after seeing her so vulnerable.
That worried her more than she thought possible; the glazed look in the blue eyes, the drawling words. Miranda had scoffed at the idea of drugs, but after talking to Miranda it seemed to be more and more likely. Which was also quite heartbreaking, because it meant she didn’t really mean what she’d said, about…everything. About me. The older woman’s voice floated through her head, two words that grabbed her guts and twisted. My Andrea.
She shook her head and entered her apartment, only now realizing she still carried the half full cup of coffee. She started to throw it away and then reconsidered. Her job at the paper paid enough, but she was well aware of certain economic realities. “Why waste it?” She asked herself, and stuck it in the fridge. “I can heat it up tomorrow morning with breakfast.”
She glanced at the clock. The slow walk home had taken quite some time and now, if she was indeed going to be ready to have dinner with Miranda... Oh God. The thought struck her. I’m going to have dinner with Miranda! Her heart beat faster and she began to frantically prepare. A bath would have made her feel so much cleaner, but a long decently hot shower was going to have to do. The minutes quickly ticked by and when she was finally clean and dry, the arduous task of choosing what to wear began. “What the hell am I supposed to wear to have dinner with Miranda, the person who decides what fashion is…at her own house!?”
The impossible decision was made even more difficult due to her choices. If she’d had only one or two dresses to choose from it would have been much easier, but she had several very nice pieces leftover from her Runway days and a few she’d acquired since then.
The running discussion with herself about which outfit to choose and the almost frantic search through her closet had yielded some progress. It was, finally, down to two choices. “She said I looked lovely at the thing six months ago…” Eyeing that dress, she sighed. “It is nice, but more for a big event…not an intimate dinner in someone’s home.” She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. “Oh God, did I just say ‘intimate’?” She shook her head and hugged herself. “Okay… none of that…not intimate… control yourself.” Closing her eyes, Andy let herself remember the feeling of Miranda’s hand gently touching her hair, then shook herself out of it and glanced at the clock. “No time for this!” Without any further monologue, Andy grabbed the more casual of the two dresses, basic black, and quickly prepared to meet the car downstairs. She left her hair minimally styled, just falling to her shoulders in soft waves.
Andy checked the contents of her small clutch purse. Not that she’d need anything tonight but her apartment key, but it made her feel better to have a few dollars, her ID and if she had a tube of the lipstick Miranda approved of too, that was just a coincidence, right? Then the distinctive horn of Miranda’s car sent her nearly flying out the door and down the stairs. For a moment she had the oddest ‘Cinderella’ sensation. Roy waiting next to the car, opening the door for her when she arrived again made her feel a bit like royalty. Miranda does this all the time. She thought. It kind of explained the attitude Miranda had, at least Andy thought so. How could someone be treated like royalty all the time and not begin to believe they are?
I am not royalty, she thought and spoke casually when the car began to move.
“Roy, it’s good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you too Andy.” He kept his eyes on the road ahead for quite a while, then spoke quietly. “Can you help her?”
“God, I hope so.” Andy felt her chest nearly cave in, realizing this was someone she could talk to. “What’s been happening?”
“It’s just so strange. It wasn’t so regular at first, I barely noticed a difference, I just thought she was working too hard. But now… She’s usually fine in the morning, especially so on Mondays.” Roy started slowly. “Some days at lunch she seems kind of out of it…nearly always by the time she heads home. It’s like she can’t focus, can’t… think…”
Andy interrupted. “Have you ever seen her… taking anything?”
“Drugs?” Roy gripped the wheel tighter. “No way!” The man’s voice cracked. “I’ve been her driver for a long time… and I’ve never…She would never take drugs…”
Andy sighed and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I know, I’m just grasping at straws I guess.” Drugs were just so much better than the alternative, the unthinkable, and Roy’s next words chilled her.
“She’s just not, herself.”
Andy leaned forward in the seat. “How was she tonight, when you took her home?”
“Bad.” Roy admitted. “As bad as I’ve seen so far.” He reached down to the seat next to him and lifted the current ‘brunette’ issue of Runway into view. “This is a cry for help.” He said and glanced up into the mirror. “Help her Andy.”
“I will,” Andy vowed to him, to herself and then to an absent Miranda. “I will.”
------------------
Her heart was beating franticly as Roy escorted her to the door of the townhouse. She reached for the doorbell with a trembling hand and thought she was going to faint when the door opened.
“Good evening, Ms. Priestly.” Roy bowed slightly at the waist. “What time should I come ‘round to take the young lady home?”
Lazy blue eyes moved up and down Andrea’s body. “We may be late, talking.” Miranda involuntarily licked her lips. “I’ll just call a cab when she’s ready to leave. I don’t have any meetings this weekend either, so I’ll see you on Monday.”
“Very well, but call me if you need me.” He tilted his head at them. “Good night ladies.” And was gone.
“Andrea.” Miranda’s smoky voice curled around her. “Come in.”
Said the spider to the fly. Andy thought and stepped over the threshold. If she thought she’d stepped into the Twilight Zone exiting the elevator at Elias-Clarke earlier today, the door closing behind her pushed her into a whole new level of weird. Something she wasn’t sure she could even begin to describe. Miranda’s home. Andy tried to stay calm and reminded herself. I’m standing in Miranda’s home, as a guest, not delivering the Book. That thought did absolutely nothing to calm her pounding heart. Oh God.
“Andrea.” Miranda looped her arm around her guest’s, linking their elbows. “You look lovely tonight.”
Andy automatically patted the hand curled around her forearm. “Thank you. You look amazing yourself.” She had always thought Miranda looked good in this particular shade of green. Of course, she thought Miranda looked good in anything she wore. Daring to look closely into the older woman’s eyes, Andy’s heart fluttered slightly with despair. The slightly glazed look she’d seen earlier was still there, maybe even a little more unfocused than before. Roy was right, this is bad. She allowed herself to be guided into the kitchen, where a fully set table greeted her.
“I didn’t want to use the formal dining room for just the two of us.”
Andy thought Miranda seemed almost apologetic. Which was totally out of character and just so wrong it was indescribable.
“Of course not.” Andy smiled down at the anxious woman and assured her. “This is perfect.” She accepted the chair offered and watched carefully as Miranda sat opposite her then turned her attention to the plate in front of her. Lifting the cover from the plate, Andy inhaled deeply. “Mmmm… it smells wonderful.” It was also quite warm and she cautiously asked. “Miranda, did you cook this?” She wasn’t sure using the stove was a good idea for the woman given her state of mind.
“No.” The white head bowed. “Smith and Wollensky delivered it a few minutes before you got here.”
“Oh, good.” Andy smiled as Miranda’s head snapped up and she explained quickly. “I wouldn’t want you to slave over a hot stove just for me.”
“I would.” Miranda vowed and reached toward her guest. “I would cook for you, anything you want.”
Andy caught the hand and gently pressed the back of it against her cheek, as she had done in the office earlier. “I know you would, but I’m glad you didn’t because now we can enjoy our meal without you being exhausted or stressed from preparing it.” Slowly releasing the hand in hers, Andy picked up a fork. She had actually taken a bite before she realized what she was eating. “Miranda, is this chicken marsala?” Her host’s eyes widened.
“Yes, don’t you like it? I can send it back…”
“No… no, it’s delicious.” Andy assured her. “I just… I don’t remember it being on their menu.”
“It isn’t.” Miranda anxiously watched her guest’s expression. “Victor made it, special for you.”
Andy forced herself to breathe. “Um… thank you?” It seemed like an inadequate thing to say for such a wonderful gesture. “But… why…um… how did you know I like it?”
“I worked with you for nearly a year Andrea, one hears things.” Miranda swallowed against her dry mouth and took a sip of her wine. “I remember you told Emily that the boy you were…” Her eyes fluttered momentarily. “… living with at the time had made for you. You said it was your favorite. Is it not anymore?”
Andy looked at the woman across from her with unabashed awe. “You are amazing. I barely remember having that conversation. How do you remember it?” Especially now.
“I remember things that are important to me.”
Andy was skeptical. “My favorite food is important to you?”
“Everything about you is important to me Andrea.” Miranda’s nostrils flared as she speared a small bite of her own meal. Everything.
Unable to respond to that statement, Andy concentrated on eating her delicious meal and drinking the wine that complemented the food perfectly. Before she knew it they were finished and Miranda cleared the plates, quickly replacing the main course with a tiny, but deliciously decadent, dessert. “Oh, this looks wonderful.” Also not on the menu, Andy knew.
“Enjoy it, please.” Miranda took her seat.
“Aren’t you having any?” She scooped a spoonful of chocolaty goodness but paused with the spoon just in front of her lips. “It makes me feel funny to eat dessert without you.”
“No. Please.” Miranda rested her chin on her closed fist. “Continue.”
Andy, unable to keep her eyes off Miranda, slowly sucked the fluffy chocolate off the spoon, moaning in appreciation at the taste. She savored the flavor for a long moment then smiled at her dining partner. “You have got to try this.” Gathering a small bite onto the spoon, Andy held it out for Miranda to take. “Please, it’s so good!” She waved the spoon close to the older woman’s mouth. “C’mon… one bite. It’s mostly air anyway.”
Leaning forward Miranda opened her mouth and took the bite Andrea offered her. The chocolate explosion in her mouth drew a pleased sound from her as well. “You’re right, it is delicious.” Miranda licked her lips and gazed at Andrea. “Perhaps I should give in to temptation more often.”
Suddenly Andy knew how to describe the feeling she’d experienced when she arrived. “I am so not in Kansas anymore.” She didn’t realize she’d even spoken out loud. The older woman stiffened her spine and spoke almost coldly.
“I suppose that makes me the wicked witch?” Pushing away from the table quickly, she walked out of the room, unaware that Andy had just as quickly followed her.
“No.” Andy caught up with her hostess in the parlor. Miranda was looking out the window into her backyard garden. “No.” She repeated then gently placed a hand on the upset woman’s shoulder, turning her so they faced each other. “That isn’t what I meant.”
“Then…what?” Miranda was shaking.
“I just meant, this is all so…different from what I’m used to, it’s like Oz, colorful and wonderful, but very, very different from my normal life.” Cupping the older woman’s face in one of what to her had always felt like abnormally large hands, Andy urged Miranda’s head up so their eyes could meet. “You are absolutely not the wicked witch.” She slid her hand lightly down the side of the green dress Miranda wore so gracefully. “You are obviously the Queen of Emerald City.”
Miranda was breathless. “Andrea.” Her mind cleared for a moment and her blue eyes focused on the younger woman. She wrapped her arms around Andy’s waist and felt the girl move into the embrace, lanky arms circling her shoulders. Miranda nearly sobbed at the overwhelming comfort of the gesture. “Andrea, I’m…frightened.”
“Shhh…” Andy tucked the white head under her chin, thankful that she was wearing heels and Miranda wasn’t. She slowly stroked the woman’s back. “It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.” Her arms tightened around Miranda. “I’ll help you.” She loosened the embrace and led Miranda by the hand to the sofa. They sat and when Miranda seemed unwilling to let go Andy wrapped one arm around the older woman, allowing the white head to rest on her shoulder. As Miranda snuggled in as close as she could, Andy couldn’t help but smile. Miranda, a snuggler, who would have thought? The problem was no one would have, because it was totally out of character for the Miranda anyone knew to be acting this way. Andy needed to find out why. “Miranda, can you tell me what’s been happening with you lately?”
If a finished issue of Runway had been produced, whatever was going on with Miranda had been going on for several months at least. “How’ve you been feeling?” It took a minute, but Miranda finally responded.
“lost.”
Andy closed her eyes at the vulnerability that word conveyed. It was not an admission anyone expected from the publishing titan. Squeezing the shoulders under her arm, Andy lay her cheek on the white head so near hers and whispered. “You aren’t lost. You’re safe right here with me.” She waited for the return squeeze and prompted for more. “How long have you been feeling this way?” The answer wasn’t entirely unexpected.
“I think it started a little more than three months ago.”
Andy nodded. The timing would be right for the issue of Runway to be finished now. “What does it feel like?” She held her breath and waited, not wanting to hear the classic symptoms of the unthinkable falling from Miranda’s lips.
“Things were very stressful at the office. Emily had hired a girl that gave new meaning to the word incompetent. The layouts for every account were all wrong.” She gave Andy a detailed description of the sets, models, fashions and even makeup artist’s total lack of professionalism before she took a deep breath and added, “And to top it all off…” She looked up and traced Andrea’s cheekbone with her fingertip. “I hadn’t laid eyes on you in nearly three months.”
Closing her eyes, Andy partially focused on the caress, but mostly gave her thanks to whatever powers may be that the unthinkable was now dismissed. If Miranda remembered all those recent events in so much detail, the unthinkable was out of the picture. “So what changed?”
“Nothing.” Miranda sighed. “Everything.” It was clear she didn’t have an explanation for it. “Just one day I looked around and was, calm.”
Andy’s eyes widened. “Calm?”
Miranda nodded. “Very calm. Too calm. Fuzzy, dizzy, unfocused, drifting, sleepy… calm.” Her voice took on an odd tone. “I didn’t really care about anything, I was just drifting along, lost in daydreams…” of you.
“Did you go to the doctor?” Andy chuckled to herself and answered her own question. “Of course you didn’t. Sorry.” She removed the hand still wandering the planes of her face and held it firmly. “What did you do?”
Miranda shrugged. “Ordered more coffee and continued to work.” She thought back to those weird times. “I knew I was making strange decisions, I slowly began to choose brunette models over all others. I knew people were beginning to talk about it, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.” She started to become angry. “Why didn’t anyone say anything to me? Why didn’t they at least try to stop me? They had time; it takes months to produce an issue.”
“That’s easy.” Andy was good with questions that had simple answers. “You would have fired them.”
“Of course.” The woman nodded, the friction of her cheek against Andy’s shoulder causing a thrill through her. “But once I came to my senses I’d have rehired them.”
Andy laughed. “Do you know the meaning of that word, rehire? It means you’d have to take back someone you’d fired. You’d basically have to admit you were wrong to fire them; that you had made a mistake.” Andy rubbed the shoulder under her hand. “I don’t think anyone at Runway believes you would do that.”
“Admit to being wrong?”
“No.” Andy chuckled. “Make a mistake.”
Miranda snorted. “I’ve made plenty of mistakes Andrea. The divorces prove that.”
“That’s personal, I mean professionally.” She smiled. “Pretty much everyone who works at Runway considers you the Goddess of Fashion, infallible as far as the fashion world is concerned.”
Miranda sat up, moving back slightly to see Andy’s face. “Is that how you saw me? When you worked there?”
Bowing her head, to avoid looking Miranda in the eye, Andy nodded. “Yes, of course.” Then she added, “For a while.”
“Is that why you left?” Miranda shifted, a few inches farther away. “You had a crisis of faith in your ‘Goddess’ and decided walking away was the best solution?”
Andy thought about it. “Yeah, kinda. By then I didn’t see you as only the Goddess anymore… I’d seen, glimpses, of the ‘real’ you.”
“Ah.” Now Miranda thought she understood. “Scary.”
“No,” Andy protested. “That’s not it.” She tried to organize her thoughts. “As much as I loved being in the presence of the Goddess… it was too hard to know there was a real person inside that I was being kept away from. I wanted to know her, you, the real you. Understanding that want and knowing it would never be allowed was too much. I had to leave. Staying would have broken me.” Miranda had shifted again, and was now sitting next to the arm of the sofa, as far away from Andy as she could get and still be on the same piece of furniture.
“So instead, you broke me.” Miranda stood, needing to move, she paced back to the window.
“I didn’t mean to, I didn’t know it was even possible.” Andy’s voice quavered a little. “I hope it’s not the real you that’s moving away from me now.”
“why?”
“Because I may never get to touch the Goddess, but I really enjoy holding the real you.” Andy smiled as the white head whipped around to look at her. “And I was hoping it meant you’d forgiven me… taken me back.”
“Andrea.” Miranda moved back to the sofa and resumed her position with her head on the younger woman’s shoulder. “Is that what you want… to be taken back?”
“Not to Runway.” Andy made that clear. “I have a job that I love.” Closing her eyes she savored the feel of Miranda in her arms. “I would like to be okay with you though, personally.”
Miranda laughed, a full joyous laugh. “Andrea… how many people do you think exist on this planet that can storm into my office, yell at me, basically tell me I’m insane, accuse me of doing drugs and then end up at my house that evening for dinner, feed me dessert, and…then…” She wiggled a little. “…whatever this is.”
“Um… is this a trick question?”
Grunting at that, Miranda shook her head. “No trick. It’s a simple answer, exactly one person in all the world could ever get away with all that, and that, my dear, is you.” She spoke smugly. “I think it’s safe to say you are ‘okay’ with me, personally.”
“Why?” Andy found herself playing absently with the white locks under her fingers. “Why me?”
“When you first saw the issue, what did you think? What did you feel?”
Andy admitted. “I was worried about you.”
“You’re the only one, the only one to stand up to me, to challenge my decisions. Everyone else simply dismissed me as being a lunatic or went along with me no matter how crazy they thought I was.” Miranda swallowed hard. “You cared.” She pulled her head back a little, to see the face above her. “Why is that Andrea?” She pushed the subject. “Why do you care?”
“You fascinate me.” Andy looked down into curious blue eyes. She inhaled deeply; the woman’s unique scent was, intoxicating. She wanted so badly to shift, just slightly, and kiss her, but the memory of the glazed look held her back. She would not initiate anything like that while Miranda was still, not Miranda. Andy couldn’t help shake the feeling that drugs were involved somehow. “You’re smart, and funny, and oh so beautiful.” She smiled. “Unbeknownst to most people, you are kind, and compassionate.” She grinned at the scoff and tapped the woman’s nose. “I’ve seen you with the girls and I know about the charities.” Andy nodded as a faint blush colored Miranda’s porcelain cheeks. “What’s not to care about?”
“Funny.” The older woman rubbed Andy’s stomach, feeling the flutter there. “Those are almost the same reasons I could give you for why you can get away with challenging me.” Shifting impossibly closer, Miranda yawned, closed her eyes and murmured, “Sleepy.”
“Mmmm…” Andy shook her companion gently. “I’ll call a cab. You need to sleep.” She was surprised at the strength in the arms immediately tightening around her.
“No.” Miranda took a deep breath. “Don’t go. Please.” The look in her eyes made it very clear she wasn’t just asking for a few more minutes.
Oh God. Andy closed her eyes, logic first. “Miranda, I can’t sleep in this.” She indicated her dress.
“S’okay. I have something you can wear.”
“Miranda, I’m not sure my staying is such a good idea.” Andy swallowed hard at the hurt crossing the older woman’s face. She spoke gently and truthfully. “There is something going on with you Miranda, something’s wrong and you know it. I don’t want to…take advantage of that. I don’t want you to do anything that you might have…regrets about, later… when you’re better.”
“Then you must stay.”
Shifting and standing, Miranda held out her hand to her guest. “Because I will certainly regret it, if I let you leave.” With barely a twinge of embarrassment, she admitted, “I don’t want to be alone in the house tonight.” Sensing the girl’s reluctance, she conditionally agreed with the girl. “I have guest rooms.” That almost had Andrea where she wanted and Miranda played her ace, letting the lost feelings she’d had for the last several weeks seep into her eyes and voice, “Please, don’t leave me alone tonight.”
Andy melted. “Okay.” She took the offered hand and followed the older woman upstairs. Guest rooms she thought I can deal with that, I think. It obviously wasn’t a guest room they entered though and Andy voiced that as she looked around. “Miranda, this is not a guest room.”
The white head shook. “No, it’s my bedroom. Wait here.” She walked through a door on the other side of the room and returned after a few moments. “The girls bought these for their father for some occasion or another.” She lied and handed Andy the pajamas. “He never liked them.”
Accepting the clothes, Andy looked back toward the door to the hall. “Where can I change?”
Miranda pointed to another door across the room. “Bathroom.” She saw the look and flared her nostrils. “Andrea, don’t argue with me. I need you to stay with me, at least until I fall asleep. That’s all.”
“Until you fall asleep?”
“Yes.” Miranda nodded. “After that, if you must, you can go, pick a room. There are several to choose from.”
“I’ll stay in a guest room.” Andy wanted to be clear about that.
Miranda agreed, reluctantly. “If you must.”
Nodding, the girl smiled slightly. “Okay. Be right back,” and then exited through the bathroom door.
--------------------------
Andy looked around the huge bathroom and exhaled in a slow low whistle. “Wow.” The room was probably larger than the living room in her apartment. She didn’t want to waste a whole lot of time looking around, but she quickly scanned the room taking in the double vanity sink, the deep Jacuzzi tub, and the huge shower stall before she checked all the cabinets and drawers. Not that she didn’t trust Miranda’s word about the drug issue but if that was the cause, the woman would hardly be truthful about it now, would she? It was a huge relief when all Andy found were a few cough drops.
Changing quickly into the soft pajamas, she snorted in surprise at the fit. It was almost like they were made for her, then she remembered whose they were, who they’d been meant for and closed her eyes at the thought. Miranda’s ex-husband, someone Miranda had children with, someone Miranda had loved, touched…. Andy shook herself out of that line of thinking. That way leads to madness.
Andy walked out of the bathroom to find that Miranda had already changed into her night clothes; a two piece pair of pajamas very similar to the ones she wore herself.
“You haven’t taken off your makeup yet Andrea.” Miranda reluctantly moved toward the bathroom and literally pushed the younger woman back inside. They stood in front of the double sink as Miranda spoke coolly. “You must do that, every night. Your skin will thank you when you are older.” She handed her guest a washcloth and casually continued, even though her insides were twisting with fear. “I assume you didn’t find the drugs you were looking for in here.” Miranda trained her blue eyes on the mirror’s reflection of her companion. “You are more than welcome to search the rest of the house.”
“No.” Andy finished washing her face. “It was a crazy idea anyway, you don’t do drugs and wouldn’t with the girls in the house.” Now that she said it out loud, Andy realized something. “Oh.”
Miranda blinked. “Oh?”
“I mean… when the thought of drugs popped in my head earlier I was thinking that you were the one taking them…I mean… on purpose.”
Laughing, Miranda continued to remove her makeup, slowly. “You think I accidentally took drugs?”
Andy’s dark head shook. “No, not accidentally… unknowingly.”
Now Miranda’s eyes widened. “You think someone is drugging me?!” She shook her head. “That’s….that’s…ridiculous. Why would anyone do that?” It did make sense though, with the way she had been feeling.
“To ruin the magazine? To ruin you?” Andy asked the first question the police always asked in the movies. “Who would have a grudge against you?”
“Ha!” Miranda actually laughed as she scrubbed around her nose. “Are you kidding?”
Andy rolled her eyes. “Right... sorry.” She rinsed out the washcloth and murmured. “Forgot who I was talking to for a minute.” This new line of thinking had her excited though, she felt close to solving the puzzle. “I need some paper and a pen… or even better, access to a spreadsheet program.”
Miranda finished her task and nodded, keeping her eyes on the sink. “Yes, in the study. My laptop is on the desk.”
“Great.” She started toward the door and the stopped. “Um… where is that?”
“Downstairs, it’s the door across from the table where you put the Book.” Miranda took a deep breath, to steel herself for the shocked reaction. She knew without makeup she looked quite different. Her husbands had always complained about it, Stephen even called her ‘frumpy’ without the face paint. Resigned to the inevitable, Miranda looked up at her guest. “How long will you be?”
Andy shrugged. “Dunno. Shouldn’t take too long though.” She brushed some white hair away from Miranda’s forehead and kissed the space created. “Get some sleep. We can go over my theory tomorrow.” Andy began to walk out of the room.
No reaction at all. Miranda swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. Wrong, there was a reaction, she kissed you. She wondered if there was an imprint of the girl’s lips on her forehead; she felt branded. Not in a bad way though; in a good way, a very, very good way.
“Andrea,” she waited for her guest to pause. “You’ll need the password. It’s written on a post-it in the right hand drawer.”
Smiling, Andy nodded. “Thank you.” Then she was out the door.
Miranda closed her eyes for a long moment. “No.” She wiped away a tear that had escaped its prison and whispered, “Thank you.”
-----------------
Andy found the study easily and was so focused on her task that she’d sat down in the chair and powered up the computer before she realized exactly where she was and what she was doing. My God I’m in Miranda’s study, sitting in her chair, getting ready to use her computer. The screen prompted her for the password and she took a deep breath, opening the drawer to find the post-it. Her forehead wrinkled and it took her a minute of looking at her own name written on the little yellow paper to understand its significance. No way. Thinking it was a joke she typed Andy Sachs into the password window and blinked as the machine obediently continued with its startup routine. Oz for sure. She thought and clicked on the Excel icon.
Using her knowledge of Miranda’s usual day, Andy quickly set up the spreadsheet. Mostly to organize her thoughts, trying to do it in her head was just too hard to keep everything straight. What she was looking for was the opportunity someone would have to get close enough to Miranda to administer the drug. It would have to be something in her food. No one touches her, and she would obviously notice if someone was giving her a shot. Roy said she wasn’t as bad in the mornings…but sometimes out of it by noon…
Andy concentrated on the morning schedule she remembered and knew there was only one possibility. How stupid are you? She berated herself for not seeing the obvious, sooner. Staring at the screen, clicking the mouse and typing on the keyboard to organize the information, she didn’t notice the front door opening, or the click of high heels on the hall floor. The closet door closing broke through her focus. Oh no! The Book! She thought and looked up at the open door to the study to see a familiar outline. Emily.
“What do you think you are doing?!” The English woman’s temper snapped and she hissed, “You can’t be here!” She reached for her phone. “I’m calling the police!”
Without thinking, Andy stood and walked around the desk toward the irate woman. She held out her hands to calm her down. “No, it’s okay, really.”
Emily’s mouth fell open and the phone fell to the floor. “You’re wearing pajamas!” Her eyes narrowed. “What are you playing at?”
Andy sighed. “Emily, I’ll explain everything to you, but not now okay?”
She wasn’t convinced and reached down to retrieve her phone. “I’m calling the police.” Her fingers once again went numb as a voice floated down from the stairs.
“Emily.”
Swallowing hard, the red-head tilted up, scanning the darkened staircase, very much like she was praying to an unseen God or in this case, Goddess. “Yes, Miranda?” There was a seemingly long pause.
“That’s all.”
Andy shrugged and spoke softly. “I’ll talk to you Monday.”
Huffing her dismay at the situation, the only thing that kept Emily from stomping back out the door was that she didn’t want to damage Miranda’s hardwood floors with her heels. She did manage to control herself enough not to slam the door behind her.
Shaking her head sadly, Andy watched her go and sighed. She hoped she could smooth this over with the woman somehow. Miranda’s voice pulled her from that train of thought.
“Andrea.”
Andy looked up at the dark staircase, even though there was no way she’d be able to see Miranda standing there, any more than Emily could have seen the woman. Andy knew that she was the one who now looked like she was praying. “Yes Miranda?”
“Are you nearly finished?”
“Yes Miranda. I just need to shut everything down.” Andy smiled at the response.
“Very well.”
It didn’t take long to shut down the computer and flip off the lights. Aware that she had promised Miranda to stay with her until she fell asleep, and knowing that Miranda was not yet asleep, Andy returned to the master bedroom. The room was already dark, and through the dim light from the window she could see Miranda’s form in the bed. Crossing the room, she sat on top of the covers with her back against the headboard. “So…” She absently began playing with the intriguing white hair under her hand. “Emily.”
“Hmmm…” Rolling to face the other woman in her bed, Miranda tucked the pillow under her head and looked up at the brunette sleepily. “Indeed. You’d think after four months that girl she hired would be delivering it.”
“What?” She touched Miranda’s shoulder and shook it slightly. “What?”
“That girl, the incompetent one, you’d think she’d be delivering the Book by now.” Miranda grinned at the memory playing itself behind her closed eyes. “Even you were delivering it by now.”
Against her better judgment, Andy slid down on the bed and lay on her side, facing Miranda. She gently traced the contours of her companion’s face. “I know how they’ve been drugging you, and now I think I know who…” She smiled into, now open, blue eyes. “What I don’t know yet is why.”
Miranda took the information well. The widened blue eyes slowly closed and she murmured, “I knew you’d make everything okay.” The older woman’s breath evened out as she drifted off to sleep, unable to fight the crash from whatever drugs had been snuck into her system. “My Andrea.”
Andy rested her head on her hand and watched the sleeping woman for a long moment. She thought about the last comment and whispered softly. “You bet I am.”
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TBC...