It's All Relative Part 8 (continuing)
It’s All Relative (Chapter 8/Continuing) HbH: hawkbehere2@yahoo.com
DWP: 8th chapter of It’s All Relative started with Chapter 1 at www.ralst.com. This is rated PG for sexual content. The next chapter will be quickly forthcoming, I promise. This is abbreviated because I’m splitting this chapter in half. Feedback appreciated.
****
It was ridiculous in some ways, Miranda thought as she opened the door to her townhouse with a hesitant Wanda behind her, to have so much space for four people. Actually, given her penchant for divorce, more often for three people and an enormous dog, she amended ruefully. Regardless, she rarely felt the weight of her wealth because her small cadre of friends were either similarly wealthy and, therefore, immune to it or were not and merely wished to seem immune to it.
“Ay Dios mio!” Wanda said as they entered the foyer.
“Yes. I know. It’s a little large for my children and me but we like it.”
“Si. What is not to like? It is beautiful.”
“Thank you.” Miranda said as she heard her cook and general head of household walking toward her, “Brace yourself, Wanda. Here comes trouble.”
As tiny as she was, Magdalena Vargas was nearly as imposing a woman as Miranda, which was one of the reasons they had gotten along for nearly 13 years. As terribly as Magdalena sometimes acted in the beginning, Miranda had never fired her for some reason. After a few years, she realized the reason was that, despite the woman’s vehement protestations against her, she actually adored her employer as virtually no one in her life ever had. Magdalena dated no one, had no children and cared for no one, it seemed, beside her and the children and her job.
As the older yet beautiful woman approached, she scowled at Miranda and Wanda with real ferocity and shook her finger, “Ah ah ah, Miranda! If you need the vacation from me, ask me to leave-and vamoose! I am gone. You do not need to get shot all these times-it tires me and the children.”
Seeing the real anxiety and concern in the woman’s liquid brown eyes, Miranda smiled very sweetly and merely conceded, “It tired me too. Magdalena Vargas-this is Wanda Castillo, my nurse in the hospital and my nurse for the next two days.”
Miranda watched as the two women exchanged what she assumed were pleasantries in a Spanish too advanced for her to understand. Wanda turned to her after the introduction and said, “Ms. Miranda, we must get you into your room so that you can rest.”
This was interrupted by an explosion of Spanish from Magdalena, after which Wanda grimaced, “She said I am not to call you Ms. Miranda because it will make your head too big.”
Miranda chuckled as she headed up the stairs, “I’m sure she’s right-my ego is quite large enough as it is. Magdalena knows that better than anyone. I’ll show you this floor later, Wanda. Follow me.”
Magdalena sneered but called up after her employer, “Lunch is soup and you eat the bread, you hear me, or I will do something terrible.”
“Yes, Magdalena. I will. After the hospital food, I’m looking forward to it.”
“I am not kidding you, Miranda Priestly.”
“I know you’re not, Magdalena Vargas.” Miranda called down.
Miranda took a breath and walked forward pointing to rooms along the way, “This is my private study and the girls’ rooms are here….and here. They have an entertainment room…here and there are two guest rooms here, as well.”
As Miranda climbed to the third floor, she offered “My office is here, my bedroom is here, then my closet and the guest bedroom where you’ll be staying is next to it.”
“Pardon, Ms. Miranda-your closet is a room?”
“Call me Miranda and, yes, my closet is a room. Would you like to see it?”
“Oh si. Very much. Please.”
She opened the door to her closet and Wanda’s jaw dropped. The room was probably larger than the square footage of her entire home.
“I know. I know it’s rather…spacious but you do understand my job is fashion, do you not?”
“Oh, si.”
Miranda perused, with satisfaction, the racks upon racks of clothes and shoes, all color-coordinated and separated by season and designer. “I am the most influential fashion voice in the world, Wanda. I’m given more clothes in a week than you probably buy in a year. That’s just true.”
She led the way from her closet into her master bedroom, which was even larger and as Wanda took this in, she said, “That is very good for you. You cannot help being very rich, Miranda.”
Miranda nodded at the use of her name without the Ms. and took a seat on her bed. “Actually, Wanda, I could help it. I did help it. I was as poor as you can imagine when I was young. I’ve worked very hard for every penny I have.”
“Then you deserve it, do you not?”
“I don’t know if I deserve it but I have earned it. Yes.”
Wanda shrugged, “So there it is. Are you tired, Miranda?”
“A little. Maybe I’ll take a short nap and you can relax next door? There’s a television and I asked Magdalena to put some Spanish magazines in the room for you as well. She can get you anything you need. Just ask-and feel free to ask. That’s her job.”
“I will keep it in mind but I think not. It will be good just to relax. If my room is one tiny bit this size-it’s perfection.”
Miranda smiled, “Perfection. My favorite word.”
Wanda grinned and said, “That does not surprise me. It’s something Ms. Andy-Andy said about you. You like the perfection. But perfection rarely happens in this life. It is a very hard thing to want. You know this, no?”
Blue eyes flickered with amusement, “Better than most people on Earth. However, perfection does occur more frequently when you demand it. Trust me on that point.”
Wanda smiled, “I will. You take your nap. After lunch I will help you with the shower and change your dressings.”
“Good. Thank you.”
Wanda went to the room Miranda had indicated and marveled at the opulence of just this one, of many, guest bedrooms. She peered into the bathroom, at the large Jacuzzi tub. Thick cloths, towels, bath salts and oils were placed next to the tub, as well as a thick and gorgeous robe. It was a like a vacation at a hotel she could never afford. And it was really too bad that her husband Carlo was not here with her to enjoy it. But she would-she laughed aloud. She’d enjoy the luxury enough for both of them.
***
Andy was writing the leader for her article when she felt the buzz of a text message and pulled her phone from her pocket as she swallowed another jolt of coffee.
HM
LV U
M
Andy sighed and relaxed back into her chair. Wow. This was really happening. Miranda was happening. To her. She smirked. Fucking wow.
She didn’t hesitate, just dialed the number and heard a very cool “Hello?”
She whispered, “Hello? How are you, buddy?”
Andy heard a tone of mischief in Miranda’s voice. “Buddy. My goodness. How very discreet of you. But you didn’t call for your buddy. Did you want me for some reason?”
“God yes. For every reason, all reasons.”
Miranda voice was approving, “Then, hello my love.”
Andy cast a furtive eye over the newsroom and saw no one interested in her conversation. Okay. “How are you feeling, sweetie?”
“I’m fine-Wanda’s situated and Magdalena’s making lunch. I’m about to take a nap and wishing you were here in bed with me.”
Andy sighed, “Don’t say that when you know I wish I….”
As Miranda interrupted, her voice was quiet and husky, “You wish? No, I wish. I wish you were here, my darling, and do you know what we’d be doing if you were?”
Andy shot another apprehensive eye around her, “No-tell me.”
“We’d be making love.”
Andy’s hand trembled as she closed her eyes. “W…would we?”
“Yes. Because you left me, through no fault of your own, very on edge last night. And I didn’t touch myself because I wanted your touch. Only your touch.”
Andy swallowed, hard. “Oh.”
“Yes. Oh. You’re at your desk, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Surrounded by coworkers.”
“Yes.”
“Coworkers who don’t know Miranda Priestly is going to fuck you senseless at the first opportunity she gets.”
Andy opened her eyes, coughed and took a sip of coffee. “No. I mean yes, that’s true.”
“Do you want me to?”
“You know I do. More than anything.”
“Andrea?”
“Yes?”
“Are you as wet as I am right now?”
Andy whispered, “If it’s hard to believe how much, yes.”
“Are you going to take care of me, Andrea? Of how wet you’re making me? Do you want to?”
Andy knew she was blushing and ignored the rest of the room as she tried to keep her voice even, “Yes. Of course I do. Of course I will.”
“How? I think I’ll need your mouth. Will you use your mouth?”
“I’ve been thinking about nothing but doing that for hours.”
“Really? You’ve been thinking about my pussy? Your mouth and my pussy?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
“You may drown.”
“If I do, lucky me.”
“No, lucky me.”
“Can I see you tonight?” Andy crossed her fingers.
“The girls and John will be here so we’ll have to behave but I’d love that.”
“I could be there about seven?”
“Seven will be fine. I love you, Andrea.”
Andy coughed again, then laughed with elaborate casualness, “And you know how I feel.”
“I do. And Andrea?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t you dare touch yourself-anywhere. You’re mine.”
Miranda had read her mind. Andy had been thinking about taking a quick trip to the bathroom to let off a little steam. She ran a hand through her hair, “Alright. But I expect the same courtesy from you.”
“As I told you, I gave you that courtesy last night but it’s a deal.”
“Deal. See you at seven. Can’t wait.”
When Andy clapped her phone shut, she laughed loudly enough to draw the attention of a few coworkers. She waved them off but sat and mused at the fact that Miranda Priestly loved her and wanted her. How lucky was that? She looked up at the ceiling and crossed herself. “Thank you.”
***
Minutes later, Andy’s cell rang and, as she grabbed it, she smiled, “Mirror-Andy Sachs.”
“You know it’s me.”
“I do.”
“I’m calling to tell you that….”
Miranda paused so long and the phone was so silent that Andy felt the need to ask, “You still there?”
“Yes, of course I am. I did tell you that I enjoy talking rather frankly, did I not?”
“Uh huh. And I like it. A lot. A lot.”
“Yes….well, be that as it may, I was calling to tell you that I’m perfectly capable of having a civilized discussion with you without interjecting sex into it every time.”
Andy grinned into her monitor, “I’m perfectly aware of that, as well. I was thinking about you, too. I just wanted to remind you that when I help out the way I said I would earlier….”
“Hmmm? Ah yes. With your mouth?”
“Yep. Just remember that I’ve never…” she lowered her voice, “never done that before. I mean, I’m so…way beyond willing but I’m probably bound to make some rookie mistakes.”
Andy could almost hear a smile in the silence before Miranda said, “Andrea?”
“Yes?”
“I’m absolutely sure that any spirited effort on your part in that regard will pay off very, very quickly.”
Andy cackled, “You got it then, chief-one spirited effort coming up.”
“Not one, my darling-just the first of what I hope are many and mutual. And I’ll be the one who’s coming just feeling and knowing it’s your touching me that way.”
It was everything Andy could do not to groan and she heard Miranda sniff before she said, “This has devolved yet again into sex talk, Andrea.”
“I know it has but it was my fault this time.”
“I’m glad you recognize that.”
“I do-please get some rest.”
“I will. I love you.”
“Not like I do you.”
“Do me, Andrea? See? You’re incorrigible. And we will see.”
“That we will.”
As Miranda snapped her phone shut, she rolled her eyes. She’d told the girl yet again that she loved her, which seemed to be some new Andrea-related Tourette’s-like symptom she was incapable of quelling or denying. And she’d entirely invalidated her own point in making the call in the first place. As she sighed and hugged a pillow closer she found, yet again, where her Andy was concerned, she did not care. She would submit to inanity.
***
Emily was as happy as she could possibly be around lunchtime on a Monday. Miranda was at home, thank God, and the enormous bouquet of flowers on her desk was nearly obscuring her vision of the desk the new Emily would eventually be taking.
Miranda’s flowers had, admittedly, sent her into fantods when she’d seen the note thanking her. Even as she’d read the note, she realized it was definitely odd to be insanely glad not to have someone in the office and yet insanely glad for that very person’s attention.
When Serena finally worked her way toward her desk, Emily blushed deeply, because of the flowers and because of the kiss they’d shared the night before.
“Nice flowers, English.”
“Yes. They’re from Miranda.”
“La Priestly? Really? Because?”
“Because I saved her life, the note said.”
Serena smelled a few of the blossoms, “Our employer has good taste.” She smiled rakishly, “In flowers and personal assistants.”
Emily didn’t know what to do except blush more deeply.
“Dinner-soon, English?”
“Name the time.”
“Tonight? Seven?”
“Yes to dinner. Yes, actually, to anything at this point.”
Serena laughed and tapped Emily’s desk. “I promise I’ll make you happy you were bold enough to say so to me.”
“I’ll hold you to that promise.”
“More and more bold. Just as I like you,” Serena said, winking as she left.
“Mother of God,” Emily said as she turned to her monitor and told it, “I love my job.” An appreciative Miranda and a sexually suggestive Serena. Things were definitely trending upward.
***
Doug called right after lunch and when Andy saw the caller ID she, she automatically lowered her voice. “Hello.”
“And? Can you talk?”
“Yeah. Just for a second.”
“Ssup?”
“Love. Life. Everything.”
“No kidding? So Miranda’s still on board?”
“We both are. Entirely.”
“No shit? Man, that’s wild.”
“Yeah-just a bit hard to hold it together in the office today.”
“Naturally. I’ll let you go-call me when you get a chance.”
“You’ll be the first. Love you, Doug.”
“Love you too, babe.”
As she hung up, she quickly realized she’d spoken more loudly than she’d intended. Alicia, who sat directly across from her, said “Now we have a name. Doug, huh? That your new stud?” Andy almost sprayed coffee on her keyboard.
****
What had she been thinking? Miranda smiled at her children and ex-husband as the girls continued to relate the details of their days away from her. They were sitting in the den and had eaten an early dinner. Magdalena had gone home and Wanda was upstairs. Years in hostile boardrooms had made her preternaturally skilled at listening and reacting appropriately, all the while thinking her own thoughts irrespective of what was being said.
What had she been thinking to invite Andrea, for whom she was feeling a nearly frantic carnal desire, into this sweet domesticity? Miranda smiled again. No. What was she thinking, knowing that she already, decidedly and entirely prematurely wanted the woman to be part of her life forever? Was she going through a mid-life crisis? Was she out of her mind? She glanced at her watch. Where was she, anyway?
When the doorbell rang five minutes later, the girls jumped a bit and Cassidy asked, “Who’s that, Mom? Another reporter?”
“No-I believe that will be Andrea. She said she might stop by.”
John leapt up and, after a few moments, brought a shy Andy into the room. “Look who I found.”
Andy waved at the girls, “Hi Caroline, Cassidy,” she said in correct order, which impressed them deeply yet again. She crossed to kiss Miranda chastely on the cheek and knew, immediately, that this was a bad idea. Miranda was blushing and she was, too and what could she do except…
“Take a seat,” John said. So she did.
Andy was dying. “How are you feeling, Miranda?” That sounded okay, right? Miranda’s eyes were scorching into hers and she knew hers must be blistering Miranda, too.
“Wonderfully well. The girls were just telling me about what’s been going on.”
“Oh, cool. Well, I don’t want to hold you guys up-just wanted to see you, check in on you.”
“Can you stay?”
“Nah-just a few minutes. I have to finish an article but I’m glad you have everybody you need around you.” She stood and crossed again to Miranda’s chair. “I knew you’d have enough flowers in the house for your homecoming so I just thought I’d give you a picture of a flower instead.”
Andy reached into her bag and pulled out a small framed picture of a very fragile purple flower growing between the seams of two pieces of gray New York sidewalk. “I took the picture outside the hospital. Who knows why it bloomed so late-but things bloom where they will, don’t they? I was impressed.”
Miranda smiled into the picture, then up at Andy and said, “I’m impressed, as well. Beautiful things do bloom when and where they will and aren’t we fortunate they do?”
“I think so.”
As John watched this exchange, his ex-wife looked at this woman as he’d never seen her look at a person in her life, including him. Total, wanton desire. And the girl was doing everything but throwing herself at his ex-wife’s feet in front of them. Action was in order. “Girls, let’s go out and get ice cream and let Andy and your mom visit.”
The twins squealed for a few seconds as they heartily assented to his idea.
John asked, as he pulled the twins from the room, “Would you like anything?”
Miranda smiled, never taking her eyes from Andy’s, “I think we’re fine.”
“I thought you might be. Maybe an hour, Mir. Okay?”
Miranda was surprised by his tone but was jolted when she turned to him and saw only understanding and compassion in his eyes. He knew. She nodded. “Thank you, John.”
“No problem. Take care of her, Andy.”
“Always.”
As John took their children to the ice cream shop, he was powerfully moved by the idea that his Miranda could expose herself so completely, and so very obviously, to a woman. And, perhaps, this exposure was obvious only to him. They knew each other so well. Miranda left nothing undone, nothing to chance, nothing exposed.
He knew this because their marriage had changed her from Miranda Davies into Miranda Priestly. He’d given her, and she’d taken that surname so happily years ago, never knowing how it quickly it would become iconic and how very quickly becoming ‘Miranda Priestly’ would come between them. That Miranda Priestly-the Miranda Priestly of Runway was not the woman he’d married.
He always loved her, although he could not be married to her. And he’d been the first to act on that realization. When Miranda had discovered his infidelity with Cecelia, she’d been incandescent with rage and she’d divorced him, although the twins had been only three years of age. It had taken very little time to decide the best joint custody agreement for their children. Even then, Miranda had understood and admitted that she had had a mistress in Runway as well. Cecelia and Runway had come between them and they’d both chosen their ruling passions. He did not regret this but, in his heart of hearts, Miranda was still the very dearest love of his life, a bit of information he would never, ever tell her or Cecelia.
As the twins chose their ice cream flavors, he sincerely hoped Miranda was moving toward happiness.
***
Miranda was not happy. She was ecstatic. As soon as John and the children had left, she had Andy’s molten lips upon hers, searching and tasting. Andy jumped onto the couch and pulled her into her warm, sweet arms and kissed her in a way she’d never experienced. This was adventure-and discovery and depth.
Miranda pulled away and gasped in what she knew was a sudden question, “Are you sure this is what you really want?”
Andy laughed and said, “If you don’t want me now, you’re going to be so out of luck. I’ll be on your doorstep whining like a puppy every day.”
“Don’t be silly. More kisses, you little ape.”
Andy laughingly complied and after many kisses, Miranda pulled away and simply looked into Andy’s eyes as she gently stroked her face. “I wish it could be tonight, my love.”
“I do, too.”
“Soon. John knows.”
“You told him?”
“No-but you noticed the sudden ice cream decampment? He’s very astute.”
Andy winced as she ran her fingers through Miranda’s hair, “I’m sorry. I knew it’d be obvious the minute I walked in…I’m really sorry.”
Miranda kissed Andy on the forehead and on both cheeks, “I’m not. We’ll be as discreet as we can and take things as they come.”
“So I can’t scream that I’m in love to Manhattan?”
“No. Your first screaming about this issue will happen in our bed.”
“Damn, Miranda. Speaking of incorrigible.”
“I know. Kiss me again and tell me about your day.”
Much to Andy’s surprise, after another smoldering kiss, she did-and Miranda listened attentively. When Andy briefly mentioned some of her career plans, Miranda gave her feedback and advice as she ran one hand through Andy’s hair. Andy decided she’d died and gone to heaven. Miranda Priestly kissed her and listened to her and really cared and life could not possibly be this amazing.
NEXT CHAPTER
DWP: 8th chapter of It’s All Relative started with Chapter 1 at www.ralst.com. This is rated PG for sexual content. The next chapter will be quickly forthcoming, I promise. This is abbreviated because I’m splitting this chapter in half. Feedback appreciated.
****
It was ridiculous in some ways, Miranda thought as she opened the door to her townhouse with a hesitant Wanda behind her, to have so much space for four people. Actually, given her penchant for divorce, more often for three people and an enormous dog, she amended ruefully. Regardless, she rarely felt the weight of her wealth because her small cadre of friends were either similarly wealthy and, therefore, immune to it or were not and merely wished to seem immune to it.
“Ay Dios mio!” Wanda said as they entered the foyer.
“Yes. I know. It’s a little large for my children and me but we like it.”
“Si. What is not to like? It is beautiful.”
“Thank you.” Miranda said as she heard her cook and general head of household walking toward her, “Brace yourself, Wanda. Here comes trouble.”
As tiny as she was, Magdalena Vargas was nearly as imposing a woman as Miranda, which was one of the reasons they had gotten along for nearly 13 years. As terribly as Magdalena sometimes acted in the beginning, Miranda had never fired her for some reason. After a few years, she realized the reason was that, despite the woman’s vehement protestations against her, she actually adored her employer as virtually no one in her life ever had. Magdalena dated no one, had no children and cared for no one, it seemed, beside her and the children and her job.
As the older yet beautiful woman approached, she scowled at Miranda and Wanda with real ferocity and shook her finger, “Ah ah ah, Miranda! If you need the vacation from me, ask me to leave-and vamoose! I am gone. You do not need to get shot all these times-it tires me and the children.”
Seeing the real anxiety and concern in the woman’s liquid brown eyes, Miranda smiled very sweetly and merely conceded, “It tired me too. Magdalena Vargas-this is Wanda Castillo, my nurse in the hospital and my nurse for the next two days.”
Miranda watched as the two women exchanged what she assumed were pleasantries in a Spanish too advanced for her to understand. Wanda turned to her after the introduction and said, “Ms. Miranda, we must get you into your room so that you can rest.”
This was interrupted by an explosion of Spanish from Magdalena, after which Wanda grimaced, “She said I am not to call you Ms. Miranda because it will make your head too big.”
Miranda chuckled as she headed up the stairs, “I’m sure she’s right-my ego is quite large enough as it is. Magdalena knows that better than anyone. I’ll show you this floor later, Wanda. Follow me.”
Magdalena sneered but called up after her employer, “Lunch is soup and you eat the bread, you hear me, or I will do something terrible.”
“Yes, Magdalena. I will. After the hospital food, I’m looking forward to it.”
“I am not kidding you, Miranda Priestly.”
“I know you’re not, Magdalena Vargas.” Miranda called down.
Miranda took a breath and walked forward pointing to rooms along the way, “This is my private study and the girls’ rooms are here….and here. They have an entertainment room…here and there are two guest rooms here, as well.”
As Miranda climbed to the third floor, she offered “My office is here, my bedroom is here, then my closet and the guest bedroom where you’ll be staying is next to it.”
“Pardon, Ms. Miranda-your closet is a room?”
“Call me Miranda and, yes, my closet is a room. Would you like to see it?”
“Oh si. Very much. Please.”
She opened the door to her closet and Wanda’s jaw dropped. The room was probably larger than the square footage of her entire home.
“I know. I know it’s rather…spacious but you do understand my job is fashion, do you not?”
“Oh, si.”
Miranda perused, with satisfaction, the racks upon racks of clothes and shoes, all color-coordinated and separated by season and designer. “I am the most influential fashion voice in the world, Wanda. I’m given more clothes in a week than you probably buy in a year. That’s just true.”
She led the way from her closet into her master bedroom, which was even larger and as Wanda took this in, she said, “That is very good for you. You cannot help being very rich, Miranda.”
Miranda nodded at the use of her name without the Ms. and took a seat on her bed. “Actually, Wanda, I could help it. I did help it. I was as poor as you can imagine when I was young. I’ve worked very hard for every penny I have.”
“Then you deserve it, do you not?”
“I don’t know if I deserve it but I have earned it. Yes.”
Wanda shrugged, “So there it is. Are you tired, Miranda?”
“A little. Maybe I’ll take a short nap and you can relax next door? There’s a television and I asked Magdalena to put some Spanish magazines in the room for you as well. She can get you anything you need. Just ask-and feel free to ask. That’s her job.”
“I will keep it in mind but I think not. It will be good just to relax. If my room is one tiny bit this size-it’s perfection.”
Miranda smiled, “Perfection. My favorite word.”
Wanda grinned and said, “That does not surprise me. It’s something Ms. Andy-Andy said about you. You like the perfection. But perfection rarely happens in this life. It is a very hard thing to want. You know this, no?”
Blue eyes flickered with amusement, “Better than most people on Earth. However, perfection does occur more frequently when you demand it. Trust me on that point.”
Wanda smiled, “I will. You take your nap. After lunch I will help you with the shower and change your dressings.”
“Good. Thank you.”
Wanda went to the room Miranda had indicated and marveled at the opulence of just this one, of many, guest bedrooms. She peered into the bathroom, at the large Jacuzzi tub. Thick cloths, towels, bath salts and oils were placed next to the tub, as well as a thick and gorgeous robe. It was a like a vacation at a hotel she could never afford. And it was really too bad that her husband Carlo was not here with her to enjoy it. But she would-she laughed aloud. She’d enjoy the luxury enough for both of them.
***
Andy was writing the leader for her article when she felt the buzz of a text message and pulled her phone from her pocket as she swallowed another jolt of coffee.
HM
LV U
M
Andy sighed and relaxed back into her chair. Wow. This was really happening. Miranda was happening. To her. She smirked. Fucking wow.
She didn’t hesitate, just dialed the number and heard a very cool “Hello?”
She whispered, “Hello? How are you, buddy?”
Andy heard a tone of mischief in Miranda’s voice. “Buddy. My goodness. How very discreet of you. But you didn’t call for your buddy. Did you want me for some reason?”
“God yes. For every reason, all reasons.”
Miranda voice was approving, “Then, hello my love.”
Andy cast a furtive eye over the newsroom and saw no one interested in her conversation. Okay. “How are you feeling, sweetie?”
“I’m fine-Wanda’s situated and Magdalena’s making lunch. I’m about to take a nap and wishing you were here in bed with me.”
Andy sighed, “Don’t say that when you know I wish I….”
As Miranda interrupted, her voice was quiet and husky, “You wish? No, I wish. I wish you were here, my darling, and do you know what we’d be doing if you were?”
Andy shot another apprehensive eye around her, “No-tell me.”
“We’d be making love.”
Andy’s hand trembled as she closed her eyes. “W…would we?”
“Yes. Because you left me, through no fault of your own, very on edge last night. And I didn’t touch myself because I wanted your touch. Only your touch.”
Andy swallowed, hard. “Oh.”
“Yes. Oh. You’re at your desk, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Surrounded by coworkers.”
“Yes.”
“Coworkers who don’t know Miranda Priestly is going to fuck you senseless at the first opportunity she gets.”
Andy opened her eyes, coughed and took a sip of coffee. “No. I mean yes, that’s true.”
“Do you want me to?”
“You know I do. More than anything.”
“Andrea?”
“Yes?”
“Are you as wet as I am right now?”
Andy whispered, “If it’s hard to believe how much, yes.”
“Are you going to take care of me, Andrea? Of how wet you’re making me? Do you want to?”
Andy knew she was blushing and ignored the rest of the room as she tried to keep her voice even, “Yes. Of course I do. Of course I will.”
“How? I think I’ll need your mouth. Will you use your mouth?”
“I’ve been thinking about nothing but doing that for hours.”
“Really? You’ve been thinking about my pussy? Your mouth and my pussy?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
“You may drown.”
“If I do, lucky me.”
“No, lucky me.”
“Can I see you tonight?” Andy crossed her fingers.
“The girls and John will be here so we’ll have to behave but I’d love that.”
“I could be there about seven?”
“Seven will be fine. I love you, Andrea.”
Andy coughed again, then laughed with elaborate casualness, “And you know how I feel.”
“I do. And Andrea?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t you dare touch yourself-anywhere. You’re mine.”
Miranda had read her mind. Andy had been thinking about taking a quick trip to the bathroom to let off a little steam. She ran a hand through her hair, “Alright. But I expect the same courtesy from you.”
“As I told you, I gave you that courtesy last night but it’s a deal.”
“Deal. See you at seven. Can’t wait.”
When Andy clapped her phone shut, she laughed loudly enough to draw the attention of a few coworkers. She waved them off but sat and mused at the fact that Miranda Priestly loved her and wanted her. How lucky was that? She looked up at the ceiling and crossed herself. “Thank you.”
***
Minutes later, Andy’s cell rang and, as she grabbed it, she smiled, “Mirror-Andy Sachs.”
“You know it’s me.”
“I do.”
“I’m calling to tell you that….”
Miranda paused so long and the phone was so silent that Andy felt the need to ask, “You still there?”
“Yes, of course I am. I did tell you that I enjoy talking rather frankly, did I not?”
“Uh huh. And I like it. A lot. A lot.”
“Yes….well, be that as it may, I was calling to tell you that I’m perfectly capable of having a civilized discussion with you without interjecting sex into it every time.”
Andy grinned into her monitor, “I’m perfectly aware of that, as well. I was thinking about you, too. I just wanted to remind you that when I help out the way I said I would earlier….”
“Hmmm? Ah yes. With your mouth?”
“Yep. Just remember that I’ve never…” she lowered her voice, “never done that before. I mean, I’m so…way beyond willing but I’m probably bound to make some rookie mistakes.”
Andy could almost hear a smile in the silence before Miranda said, “Andrea?”
“Yes?”
“I’m absolutely sure that any spirited effort on your part in that regard will pay off very, very quickly.”
Andy cackled, “You got it then, chief-one spirited effort coming up.”
“Not one, my darling-just the first of what I hope are many and mutual. And I’ll be the one who’s coming just feeling and knowing it’s your touching me that way.”
It was everything Andy could do not to groan and she heard Miranda sniff before she said, “This has devolved yet again into sex talk, Andrea.”
“I know it has but it was my fault this time.”
“I’m glad you recognize that.”
“I do-please get some rest.”
“I will. I love you.”
“Not like I do you.”
“Do me, Andrea? See? You’re incorrigible. And we will see.”
“That we will.”
As Miranda snapped her phone shut, she rolled her eyes. She’d told the girl yet again that she loved her, which seemed to be some new Andrea-related Tourette’s-like symptom she was incapable of quelling or denying. And she’d entirely invalidated her own point in making the call in the first place. As she sighed and hugged a pillow closer she found, yet again, where her Andy was concerned, she did not care. She would submit to inanity.
***
Emily was as happy as she could possibly be around lunchtime on a Monday. Miranda was at home, thank God, and the enormous bouquet of flowers on her desk was nearly obscuring her vision of the desk the new Emily would eventually be taking.
Miranda’s flowers had, admittedly, sent her into fantods when she’d seen the note thanking her. Even as she’d read the note, she realized it was definitely odd to be insanely glad not to have someone in the office and yet insanely glad for that very person’s attention.
When Serena finally worked her way toward her desk, Emily blushed deeply, because of the flowers and because of the kiss they’d shared the night before.
“Nice flowers, English.”
“Yes. They’re from Miranda.”
“La Priestly? Really? Because?”
“Because I saved her life, the note said.”
Serena smelled a few of the blossoms, “Our employer has good taste.” She smiled rakishly, “In flowers and personal assistants.”
Emily didn’t know what to do except blush more deeply.
“Dinner-soon, English?”
“Name the time.”
“Tonight? Seven?”
“Yes to dinner. Yes, actually, to anything at this point.”
Serena laughed and tapped Emily’s desk. “I promise I’ll make you happy you were bold enough to say so to me.”
“I’ll hold you to that promise.”
“More and more bold. Just as I like you,” Serena said, winking as she left.
“Mother of God,” Emily said as she turned to her monitor and told it, “I love my job.” An appreciative Miranda and a sexually suggestive Serena. Things were definitely trending upward.
***
Doug called right after lunch and when Andy saw the caller ID she, she automatically lowered her voice. “Hello.”
“And? Can you talk?”
“Yeah. Just for a second.”
“Ssup?”
“Love. Life. Everything.”
“No kidding? So Miranda’s still on board?”
“We both are. Entirely.”
“No shit? Man, that’s wild.”
“Yeah-just a bit hard to hold it together in the office today.”
“Naturally. I’ll let you go-call me when you get a chance.”
“You’ll be the first. Love you, Doug.”
“Love you too, babe.”
As she hung up, she quickly realized she’d spoken more loudly than she’d intended. Alicia, who sat directly across from her, said “Now we have a name. Doug, huh? That your new stud?” Andy almost sprayed coffee on her keyboard.
****
What had she been thinking? Miranda smiled at her children and ex-husband as the girls continued to relate the details of their days away from her. They were sitting in the den and had eaten an early dinner. Magdalena had gone home and Wanda was upstairs. Years in hostile boardrooms had made her preternaturally skilled at listening and reacting appropriately, all the while thinking her own thoughts irrespective of what was being said.
What had she been thinking to invite Andrea, for whom she was feeling a nearly frantic carnal desire, into this sweet domesticity? Miranda smiled again. No. What was she thinking, knowing that she already, decidedly and entirely prematurely wanted the woman to be part of her life forever? Was she going through a mid-life crisis? Was she out of her mind? She glanced at her watch. Where was she, anyway?
When the doorbell rang five minutes later, the girls jumped a bit and Cassidy asked, “Who’s that, Mom? Another reporter?”
“No-I believe that will be Andrea. She said she might stop by.”
John leapt up and, after a few moments, brought a shy Andy into the room. “Look who I found.”
Andy waved at the girls, “Hi Caroline, Cassidy,” she said in correct order, which impressed them deeply yet again. She crossed to kiss Miranda chastely on the cheek and knew, immediately, that this was a bad idea. Miranda was blushing and she was, too and what could she do except…
“Take a seat,” John said. So she did.
Andy was dying. “How are you feeling, Miranda?” That sounded okay, right? Miranda’s eyes were scorching into hers and she knew hers must be blistering Miranda, too.
“Wonderfully well. The girls were just telling me about what’s been going on.”
“Oh, cool. Well, I don’t want to hold you guys up-just wanted to see you, check in on you.”
“Can you stay?”
“Nah-just a few minutes. I have to finish an article but I’m glad you have everybody you need around you.” She stood and crossed again to Miranda’s chair. “I knew you’d have enough flowers in the house for your homecoming so I just thought I’d give you a picture of a flower instead.”
Andy reached into her bag and pulled out a small framed picture of a very fragile purple flower growing between the seams of two pieces of gray New York sidewalk. “I took the picture outside the hospital. Who knows why it bloomed so late-but things bloom where they will, don’t they? I was impressed.”
Miranda smiled into the picture, then up at Andy and said, “I’m impressed, as well. Beautiful things do bloom when and where they will and aren’t we fortunate they do?”
“I think so.”
As John watched this exchange, his ex-wife looked at this woman as he’d never seen her look at a person in her life, including him. Total, wanton desire. And the girl was doing everything but throwing herself at his ex-wife’s feet in front of them. Action was in order. “Girls, let’s go out and get ice cream and let Andy and your mom visit.”
The twins squealed for a few seconds as they heartily assented to his idea.
John asked, as he pulled the twins from the room, “Would you like anything?”
Miranda smiled, never taking her eyes from Andy’s, “I think we’re fine.”
“I thought you might be. Maybe an hour, Mir. Okay?”
Miranda was surprised by his tone but was jolted when she turned to him and saw only understanding and compassion in his eyes. He knew. She nodded. “Thank you, John.”
“No problem. Take care of her, Andy.”
“Always.”
As John took their children to the ice cream shop, he was powerfully moved by the idea that his Miranda could expose herself so completely, and so very obviously, to a woman. And, perhaps, this exposure was obvious only to him. They knew each other so well. Miranda left nothing undone, nothing to chance, nothing exposed.
He knew this because their marriage had changed her from Miranda Davies into Miranda Priestly. He’d given her, and she’d taken that surname so happily years ago, never knowing how it quickly it would become iconic and how very quickly becoming ‘Miranda Priestly’ would come between them. That Miranda Priestly-the Miranda Priestly of Runway was not the woman he’d married.
He always loved her, although he could not be married to her. And he’d been the first to act on that realization. When Miranda had discovered his infidelity with Cecelia, she’d been incandescent with rage and she’d divorced him, although the twins had been only three years of age. It had taken very little time to decide the best joint custody agreement for their children. Even then, Miranda had understood and admitted that she had had a mistress in Runway as well. Cecelia and Runway had come between them and they’d both chosen their ruling passions. He did not regret this but, in his heart of hearts, Miranda was still the very dearest love of his life, a bit of information he would never, ever tell her or Cecelia.
As the twins chose their ice cream flavors, he sincerely hoped Miranda was moving toward happiness.
***
Miranda was not happy. She was ecstatic. As soon as John and the children had left, she had Andy’s molten lips upon hers, searching and tasting. Andy jumped onto the couch and pulled her into her warm, sweet arms and kissed her in a way she’d never experienced. This was adventure-and discovery and depth.
Miranda pulled away and gasped in what she knew was a sudden question, “Are you sure this is what you really want?”
Andy laughed and said, “If you don’t want me now, you’re going to be so out of luck. I’ll be on your doorstep whining like a puppy every day.”
“Don’t be silly. More kisses, you little ape.”
Andy laughingly complied and after many kisses, Miranda pulled away and simply looked into Andy’s eyes as she gently stroked her face. “I wish it could be tonight, my love.”
“I do, too.”
“Soon. John knows.”
“You told him?”
“No-but you noticed the sudden ice cream decampment? He’s very astute.”
Andy winced as she ran her fingers through Miranda’s hair, “I’m sorry. I knew it’d be obvious the minute I walked in…I’m really sorry.”
Miranda kissed Andy on the forehead and on both cheeks, “I’m not. We’ll be as discreet as we can and take things as they come.”
“So I can’t scream that I’m in love to Manhattan?”
“No. Your first screaming about this issue will happen in our bed.”
“Damn, Miranda. Speaking of incorrigible.”
“I know. Kiss me again and tell me about your day.”
Much to Andy’s surprise, after another smoldering kiss, she did-and Miranda listened attentively. When Andy briefly mentioned some of her career plans, Miranda gave her feedback and advice as she ran one hand through Andy’s hair. Andy decided she’d died and gone to heaven. Miranda Priestly kissed her and listened to her and really cared and life could not possibly be this amazing.
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