A/N: I wrote this story about two years ago but never got around to post it in the Devil Wears Prada Fanfiction community in Livejournal or anywhere else, for that matter. I never quite liked it, in fact, I very much dislike it. But hey, it is part of my creative process and while I look at it and cringe with horror at the cheesiness, it was written by me. So anyway, without further ado, here it is; not my best work but mine it is, nonetheless.
M.
~~~
Her eyelids fluttered a couple of times.
Lazily bringing her thin arms above her head she yawned; her body resisting the dawn of a new day.
As she stretched a bit more, her left ribs encounter a blunt object against them. She opened her eyes quickly to locate the source of her discomfort only to find Daniel; their three year old son whose knee had lodged itself against her side in his sleep. She smiled tenderly but found it a rather odd occurrence; Andrea knew better that to allow Daniel to migrate to their bed without a good reason.
She yawned again and turned to her side carefully manoeuvring Daniel’s wandering limb out of the way. She watched him closely...the tiny freckles on his chiselled nose, his dark brown hair, the pale pinkish skin of his ears and that cowlick on the top of the forehead that Miranda always stressed so much about. She touched the standing hairs and pushed them down lightly and watched, amused, at how they stood up again defying gravity.
She chuckled softly but the amusement quickly gave way to distress.
She couldn’t help it; it always did.
Miranda leaned over to kiss her son’s forehead gently. Sighing, she remembered how difficult it had been to bring that child into the world, how ill he had been and how close; how very close she had come to losing both Andrea and Daniel.
More importantly, she remembered how different their life had been back then.
She sighed one more time -dismally- and turned around to get out of the bed. Swinging her legs she sat and stared at the clock; seven am and Andrea was already gone.
Life was indeed, so very different.
***
“And who the hell ordered Burnt orange? I asked for Copper, not this hideous thing!”
“Miranda...I did say they had run out of Copper...” said Nigel measuring his words patiently.
“I don’t care what you or anyone said! Hermes promised Copper and they better deliver Copper for the shoot in two days! That’s all!”
Miranda turned towards the window and rubbed her closed eyelids in frustration while Nigel sat across her desk and watched her.
Something was eating her up and this time, for a change, it wasn’t Runway. He hesitated for a moment but then Miranda leaned on the wall, crossed her arms across her chest and exhaled.
Nigel could not help himself.
“Is Daniel okay..?”
“Yes...he’s fine...”
The boy’s health always so instable was never too far away from the minds of those very few, close to Miranda. ‘Thank God’ he thought.
“The twins..?”
A bit bothered by the questions, Miranda nodded; it was Nigel and his obvious concern, touched her.
“So...what is it then, Andy..?”
“Hmmm...” was the editor’s only answer as she walked slowly again towards her desk.
When she reached it she pulled the chair back and allowed her lean body to gently collapse on it. “Something is happening...I just don’t know what it is...”
Nigel furrowed his brow in curiosity. “Why you say that..?”
The woman turned to her left and stared at the picture of her partner for a few seconds. “I can’t really say what it is Nigel; she seems...removed, distant...I can’t...” she trailed off softly before drinking some more of her coffee.
“You mean distant like when..?”
“Yes...” she answered, solemnly.
Nigel declined to pursue the matter. A distant Andy could only mean one of two things; or Daniel was not as well as Miranda had just said the child was or Andy was reacting to something in the way Miranda was treating her or the children.
He sighed and finished his coffee quickly. Standing up he picked up his folders and headed towards the door. “I’ll get the copper...”
The editor nodded once again turning her eyes towards the framed picture on her desk.
She sighed.
***
Andy tapped the heel of her elegant Etienne Aigner ankle boot to the floor of the car.
Miranda pursed her lips in discontent.
Emily sighed.
When they finally arrived at Elias-Clarke Miranda leaned in to peck Andrea’s lips but the young woman turned her face and the kiss landed on Andy’s right cheek. Miranda leaned back for an instant, narrowed her eyes at her lover and sighed.
“Andrea, please make sure Emily is back before 5 o’clock, sharp...”
“Yeah...I mean, yes...of course...”
Miranda stepped out of the car and Emily deposited the load of folders on the space between them.
“Crikey...couldn’t you have been a bit more obnoxious..? What in the bloody hell is wrong with you?”
Andy rolled her eyes in frustration; first Miranda, now Emily.
“Go on, then...what’s wrong?” insisted the redhead who had folded her arms over her chest in a clear sign of disgust.
Andy took a look at their assistant and exhaled, loudly. “Miranda is having an affair...”
Emily’s eyes widened and immediately a loud laughter came out of her mouth. “Are you out of your stupid mind? Who is she having this affair with, Nigel? This is utter rubbish!”
“I knew I couldn’t say anything to you...” mumbled a distressed Andy who sighed in sorrow.
***
“Nigel..?”
“Yes, Miranda..?” asked the bald man as he draped the layers of the chiffon skirt on the skeletal model standing in front of them.
“Have you any idea of Christian Thompson’s whereabouts..?” asked Miranda whose eyes never departed the crepe jacket laid on her desk. Handing the garment to Lucia, Miranda mumbled,
“...that is appalling...use the silk shantung instead...”
Nigel adjusted the skirt again and took hold of the rich, Byzantium coloured jacket Lucia was handing him.
“Oh yes...that’s perfect...” mumbled the editor.
Smirking, Nigel looked very satisfied with himself and circling his index finger, he motioned for the model to turn around. “So...-he paused stretching a bit of the fabric as the woman turned-...how is it that you want to know about that pitiful joke of a man, may I ask..?”
“I asked first...” she said as she stood next to him, shoulder to shoulder, in an apparent joint aesthetic trance.
“I am the one that holds the information, though...”
“Oh...as if I were incapable of finding out that information on my own...”
“True...but it would be rather awkward for you to call Jacqueline asking for Christian, don’t you think..?”
“I can ask Emily...”
“Right...like Madame Follet is going to talk to your assistant...Miranda, please...”
She stared at the model and then at Lucia and through a particular movement of her fingers, she dismissed them both. The women picked up the clothes and left quietly.
“So what’s the matter, darling..?” asked Nigel who had sat on the sofa and was by now, very engrossed in feeling the texture of several fabrics attached to a sample book. “Miranda...did you check this organza? It’s fabulous!”
“I think Andrea is cheating me...” she said, letting the words drop as casually as if she had just said that French was the official language of Burkina Faso.
“She’s what?” screamed Nigel dropping the book of fabric samples.
“Don’t make me repeat myself or regret having told you...-she paused-...you want some coffee..?”
Nigel shook his head; words and taste buds succumbing to shock.
“Emily...”
And when the young second assistant hurried in, she just said, “Starbucks...hot this time...”
The blonde girl nodded and left without saying a word. Miranda stood from her desk, reached the knobs on the door and swinging her arms, she closed and locked the entrance to her office.
With her hands still on the bronzed knobs Miranda leaned in till her forehead rested on the white doors. “She’s having an affair Nigel...” she said.
Her voice...breaking.
***
After Cartier, Bulgari and Tiffany, Andrea just gave up; it was obvious neither her heart nor her mind were geared up for this. While she longed to express her feelings through a tangible object not one of the exquisite pieces she had just perused in the last two hours had made any impact on her.
“You still have time Andy...”
Swinging the straps of her Balenciaga leather handbag over her shoulder, Andy sighed. Yes, time -she thought- was in abundance...momentum was what was lacking. “Want to grab some coffee..?” she asked Emily.
Emily glanced at her watch and nodded; she still was not expected to return for another two hours. “Lead the way, then...”
While the two could not be called mates, a friendship of sorts had developed between them. Inevitably, Emily was the first one to get the news about their newly formed liaison and while she could not fathom the reasons behind Miranda’s feelings, she had grown to appreciate the girl even more than she would admit. Now, sitting in the cafe of the Plaza Hotel, amidst tea sandwiches and fine china filled to the rim with aromatic infusions, Emily had to admit that she felt bad for her former colleague.
Some form of tragedy had obviously befallen the two people that governed most moments of her life.
“So tell me...why do you believe that Miranda is being unfaithful..?”
The brunette’s head snapped up in a second. Narrowing her eyes she examined Emily’s face for any sign of mockery but she found none. “Are you gonna laugh at me again..?”
“Nope...”
The young brunette dropped her eyes onto her coffee cup and inhaled deeply. Her head shook slightly as her lips turned downward as if they could not refrain themselves from showing the misery trapped inside the girl’s soul.
At that moment Emily realized that Andrea’s anguish was very real and very grave; it reminded her of years past.
“Is Danny okay..?”
Andy looked up and smirked a half-baked smile; while in pain she could still thank Emily for inquiring about their beautiful boy. “He’s fine...-pausing, she grabbed the redhead’s forearm and gave it a gentle squeeze-...thank you for asking...”
Emily nodded and smiled shyly but her eyes held Andy’s. “Why you said that about Miranda..?”
“She...uh...I don’t know...things have changed...”
“Things change all the time...that doesn’t mean she’s interested in anyone else...”
Andy shook her head and scowled like a preschooler; she was not sure she believed the redhead’s words. “She’s been out a lot more than usual...”
“Well yes but that doesn’t mean anything...”
“Plus she’s distracted and kinda harsh sometimes to the girls...and me...” Andy took a sip from her coffee. “The only one she’s loving to these days is Danny...”
“You were not what I would call a champion of tenderness today, though...”
Andy inhaled sharply, “No, I wasn’t. I wasn’t because I’m sick and tired of being the one that always budges in...it’s not fair, is it?”
“Remember who Miranda is, Andy...”
“Fine, it’s true. She’s the more obstinate woman I ever known but come on Em...what am I supposed to do, just stand by as I see her win all the time? When do I get a chance to stand my ground? Forget it!”
Andy’s distress had deepened. Suddenly it seemed like all grievances that Miranda had willingly or unwillingly bestowed on the young woman, had come to surface. “Besides, what gives her the right to treat everyone like we all are her god dammed servers, uh? This is not what I signed for when we got together...”
“Well...this is the woman you married...”
Andy exhaled and she buried her face on the cup. After a loud gulp, she placed the cup down onto the saucer; she could not help a fat tear that had rolled down her cheek.
“Married...no...we haven’t gotten married...”
Emily’s face changed in disbelief. “What do you mean..?”
“I mean that...Miranda said we would, she promised we would...I brought up the subject up when I got pregnant and she said we would after Daniel was born...but...we haven’t...”
“But Andy...Danny was very ill when he was born...so were you, for that matter...”
“Yes but still...Danny is three now...”
Emily nodded. She put herself on her friend’s shoes and imagined feeling the same feelings of resentment and insecurity that Andy was experiencing; being with Miranda was not the easiest task around and some sort of validation and commitment was perhaps...needed.
Calling the waiter, Emily motioned to get the bill. “My treat...”
Andy smiled sadly and wiped the tears off her face. “Thanks...”
“I need to go...”
“Yeah...-whispered the brunette-...so do I...”
And together they stood up and left the elegant cafe.
***
Andy heard the door opening and she couldn’t hep the feeling of dread inside her stomach; like a vacuum that suddenly pulled her insides. The twins turned around to look at her; she looked back and smiled, kindly; best not to show them what her heart contained.
The door opened and Daniel jumped and turned, ecstatic to see his mother standing at the door.
“Hello my angel!” said the editor to the little boy who, leaping from Andy’s lap, had ran and was now tugging at her coat. Miranda dropped her bag, took off her coat and picked up her son, kissing him on the forehead. “And how are you today little man, good?”
Not waiting for the answer, she walked inside, tucked Daniel unto her left hip and opened her arms to welcome her now teenaged twins who hugged her and kissed her affectionately. “Hi Mom...” answered the girls in unison.
With Daniel still perched firmly on her hip, Miranda closed the distance, smiled coyly at Andy and leaned in for a kiss.
This time the kiss was returned.
Miranda sat down next to her lover and leaned back on the sofa. Andy turned to face her and opened her arms to gather their son from Miranda’s lap.
“Bed time baby...”
The boy pouted a bit lacing his small arms around Miranda’s neck and tucking his head underneath her mother’s chin, he clung to her tightly.
“He misses you...we all do...” said the brunette, gently.
Turning to see her lover’s face, she simply nodded; she missed them too. “I know...I’m just...”
Andy understood the unspoken message and nodded. Miranda hugged her son tighter and after a few moments, she leaned forward and gathered him in her arms again.
“Time for bed Mr. Priestly-Sachs, you heard your mother...”
The boy giggled, amused at Miranda’s seriousness.
“Okay Mom...” he mumbled with a beaming smirk.
Andrea gathered the boy and picked him up. “There’s dinner in the oven, go and eat some...I’ll be right down...”
Miranda nodded and leaning back, she closed her eyes again.
Once the young woman had left, the twins sat next to their mother; concern written on their faces.
“Mom?”
“Hmmm?” Miranda hummed still refusing to open her eyes.
“Did you have a fight with Andy?”
The words brought Miranda back to reality very quickly. “What? What are you girls talking about?
The girls stared at each other for a second seizing the wisdom of what they were about to reveal. They pressed on.
“We heard Andy crying today...in her room...”
Miranda paused digesting the information. Her lips curled, her mind wondered.
“She was on the phone with someone...”
While she appreciated their children’s concern she couldn’t help the bit of anger that crept inside her heart; anger at the fact that her children would immediately blame her for Andy’s distress and anger at Andrea’s need to voice her problem with some stranger over the phone. Exhaling, she decided to finish the conversation.
“No, I have not done such thing and even if I had, that would not be something I would care to discuss with you. You ready for bed?”
The twins gazed at each other once again and silently, they decided at the same time to drop the subject; their mother was agreeable enough tonight and it was simply better not to make her angry.
Leaning over, they kissed their mother and left the study.
Miranda leaned back again and raked her fingers through her thick, grey hair. “Shit” she muttered. ‘Just what I needed now...’ she thought.
After dinner Miranda set out to review The Book. When she was halfway through it she realized that her lover had not come down as she normally did and fearing an unforeseen complication with their son, Miranda put down the mock-up and headed upstairs.
When she opened the door to Daniel’s room she found Andrea asleep in the bed with Daniel and while the sight touched her heart, it also hurt her; they had grown so far apart from each other that her lover rather spent most of her time with the children than with her.
She approached the bed and leaned forward, kissing the young woman on her temple before waking her up with a whisper, “Come on darling, lets get you to bed...”
Andy opened her eyes and stared at Miranda with a hint of apprehension. Miranda offered her hand and Andy took it, still with hesitation. “I just fell asleep...sorry...”
Miranda nodded but said nothing.
When they both reached their room, they headed to the bathroom suite. Andrea went in to brush her teeth as Miranda applied her night creams and moisturizers.
Once she was done with her teeth, Andy sat on the toilette for a quick wee. While she sat she watched her lover who even without makeup, with ruffled up hair and dressed in a bathrobe, looked intensely beautiful. Her private persona; the identity so few were allowed to see was to Andy, even more breathtaking than the public façade she showed the world every single day.
She washed her hands and wondered if she should try to do something to bring them back to where they usually were. Looking at her lover she declined; Miranda did not seem particularly keen on interacting verbally much less, physically. Turning off the faucet, she grabbed the hand towel nearby and dried her hands.
And just as she was to head back to their room Andy turned around and stood behind the editor who looked down at the young woman's hands as they laced around her waist.
“You’ve finished Andrea..?”
“Yes, I’m done…how about you? Want to go to bed with me?”
Miranda looked at her lover’s reflection on the mirror and narrowed her eyes as thoughts filled her mind; the girl had some nerve, she thought. “No, I still need to finish The Book…”
“I can wait…” whispered Andy as she tightened the embrace and kissed the editor’s neck, tenderly.
Miranda sighed, irritated. There was nothing else she wanted more than to make love to Andrea, to feel the girl underneath her, to make them both feel the extraordinary connection and pleasure they both derived from their sexual relationship.
But.
Miranda was convinced that something was taking up most of Andrea’s attention.
And it wasn’t her or the children.
“Perhaps that is so Andrea dear but I do not wish for you to wait for me. I still have a lot of work to do so no, you go on and sleep…-she paused turning in Andy’s arms-…I’ll see you tomorrow…”
Disengaging from her lover, Miranda kissed Andy’s cheek and left the bathroom.
Closing her eyes in frustration, Andy leaned her head back and under her breath she uttered, “Goddammit…”
***
The next morning Andy sat on her desk at The Mirror and in deep concentration, she made notes as she stared at her laptop screen; she had received a great tip on a prostitution ring that apparently disguised itself as a balloons messaging service and she was not going to let it go.
It sounded too far fetched not to be real.
Andy frantically gathered all the support information and spent the better part of the morning and afternoon, talking to her usual sources on the street. Once se had all her prep work done, she headed to her editor’s office.
“I can…”
“You can’t…”
“John…I can do this…”
The man was bothered by the young woman’s insistence; his mind filled with images of Andy trapped in an underworld ring of prostitution and corruption. “Andy please…what if something were to happen to you? Your wife will have my balls on a plate…”
Brown eyes grew in disbelief. “First of all John, please don’t call her that and second, I will not have my assignments filtered by the possible repercussions of my relationship with Miranda Priestly! This is not Elias-Clarke! This is not Runway! Her name should have absolutely no bearing in this discussion!”
“Oh really? Come on! Whether you like it or not, whether she is your wife or not, the fact remains that she carries enough weight to crucify anyone who would put you in a potential situation of danger and this, while interesting, is an assignment that potentially could end up badly! Give me a break Andy!”
Andy collapsed on the chair in front of John’s desk. Defeated, she recognized the truth behind her editor’s words; Miranda’s clout was so immense and absolute than anyone, in any publication, in the same situation as John, would feel exactly the same way.
“So…I guess you’re right…I should just drop it…”
The kind man stared at Andy and knew, perfectly well, that the young woman was playing his buttons to get what she wanted. The truth remained though, that the tip had been real and the story was solid and potentially heavy in terms of the possible ramifications and oh, just too juicy to let go of. He sighed, defeated.
“You will have to work with at least someone else to cover your back and you will have to have it ready for me on Monday morning. That means that whatever you have -if anything- will have to be on my desk by then…”
Andrea’s eyes lit up and her lips curled up in a broad smile. She too knew the story was very good and deserving of some generous amount of centimetres in the columns of the paper. “Thank you! I’ll take Josh…”
John dismissed her with a wave of his hand and a prayer on his mind.
A prayer for the both of them.
Later that day Andy rushed home. She had managed to secure, through a covert contact, an opportunity to infiltrate the dubious operation, offering herself as a ‘balloongram’ delivery girl.
She was hoping that would be enough to get a feel of whether the tip she’d received was true, or not.
Miranda had called saying she was leaving her office early to get ready for a business dinner. One of the twins was spending the weekend at a friend’s home and the other had offered to babysit for their little brother, Daniel.
The moment she had arrived home she kissed her children hello and hopped in the shower. Once done, she turned off the tap and opened the glass doors leaning over to get the fluffy terry cloth towel neatly placed on the rack. She dried herself up quickly and put her panties and bra in seconds; she really did not want to encounter Miranda before she left and the sooner she got ready, the better the chance for that to happen.
At that moment, Miranda opened the bathroom door.
“So what is this assignment you now have? What was so pressing you couldn’t stay home with the children..?”
Andy rolled her eyes away from the intense gaze of her lover who stood at the door waiting for an answer.
“Don’t talk to me in that tone Priestly, I also have a job…This just came up this afternoon…I got a tip on a story that I need to follow…” answered the younger woman with resentment obvious in her voice.
“And this story…it couldn’t wait, Andrea? I mean, these are your children, your family…”
Andrea snapped as she finished donning her jeans and blouse. “Oh, just my family, Miranda? Just my children? Are you for real? These are your children too! This is your family too and I don’t see you cancelling out on your business dinner now, are you?”
With those words, Andy left the bathroom and walked into the walk-in closet in search of her shoes and jacket.
Miranda looked up and breathed in deeply, ‘be nice’ she repeated like a well-greased mantra, ‘be nice’.
“Darling…-she paused, gently placing her hands on her lover’s bare shoulders-…I did not mean it like that…”
Unfortunately, the well intentioned manoeuvre came a bit too late.
“And what did you mean, then? I may not be the main bread winner for this so-called family but my job is as important to me as yours is to you so please, watch your words the next time…”
Miranda nodded and pursed her lips; not the outcome she had hoped for. Sighing, she decided to drop the matter; there would be enough time the next day to hopefully attempt to mend the broken bridges. “I got to get ready. You’re leaving soon..?”
“Yes…-answered Andy leaning forward and kissing her lover on the cheek-…I shouldn’t be later than ten, okay?” She said in haste and left.
Miranda watched Andy’s back until she disappeared sighing in sadness; the kiss on the lips had been replaced by quick pecks on the cheeks.
How low had they sunk.
***
So yes, she was the new girl who was supposed to deliver balloons that night.
After leaving home, Andy had taken the subway to Flatbush, Brooklyn, where the main office of this so-called balloon delivery company was located. From Miranda’s stupendous townhouse -at 144 East 83rd street- just a couple of blocks away from the The Met, Andy walked a few blocks till the subway station on 86th street and took the route six on the green line all the way to Flatbush avenue.
It was definitely a change of scenery.
“Toto, I’ve the feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore…’ Andy whispered softly to herself trying to ignore her surroundings and the feeling of dread she felt on the pit of her stomach.
An hour later, Andy had changed into crisp black tailcoat with silk facings, a perfectly immaculate white cotton shirt, a stiff-winged collar, a white pique bow tie and a white waistcoat. Other girls were dressed as bunnies, clowns or in formal, long gowns, depending on their destination and the company they were supposed to entertain.
Her duties were easy enough; she was supposed to be dropped at her destination, deliver her balloongram with a song and stay for about an hour or so, to keep the party going. That last bit she didn’t quite fathom; was this a message delivering service or an entertainment service? And that’s when she started to perceive the cracks on the well made up façade of the respectable and innovative company it was supposed to be. Once she had gotten the instructions, she had spent the time talking to a group of other girls who also had deliveries that night. They all seemed somewhat apprehensive about talking to the journalist who had disguised her true identity and was posing as a college student, struggling to pay her tuition for the semester. After the regular initial questions, there had not been any real piece of information that Andy could use.
The women’s attitude however, spoke volumes.
The time finally came for her to go and deliver her message. The van dropped her at Le Bernardin located south of central park, on 51st street. Andy found this quite convenient because all she had to do at the end of her shift was walk two blocks up to 5th Avenue and get a cab that would take her home in five minutes.
She held her music cd close to her and talked to the maitre d’ to be allowed the appointed delivery which was supposed to take place in a separate and private dining room.
When she walked in, she gasped; the dining room was exquisitely decorated in etched glass and maple wood and dozens of well lit tea candles. It provided for a serene ambiance that invited the guests to enjoy the food, the conversation and each other’s company. Andy thought of it as romantic without being too over the top and she decided that if her relationship with Miranda survived the current crisis, she would take her to this fabulous restaurant.
She just hoped no one would remember her face as the balloongram delivery girl.
The girl that took over when the maitre d’ left off, brought Andy to a side room where the balloons had been left after their delivery and asked for the cd. Andy gave it to her and asked for a bit of water to help clear her vocal chords. She was supposed to sing Cole Porter’s “So In Love”, a song she was very fond of. The delivery was meant for a woman named Martha Pennington; a New York socialite whose husband had requested the service.
Andy found the whole thing a bit too common and vulgar for her taste but, at least for the night, it was her job.
Checking her tailcoat, shirt and bow tie breathing deeply as to calm the slightly shaken nerve, she nodded to the girl and headed out, balloons on tow.
As she walked, the few introductory bars of music started and she hurried up her pace.
In seconds she had started singing.
“Strange dear…but true dear…
When I’m close to you, dear…
The stars fill the sky...
So in love with you, am I...”
***
Miranda leaned closer to her companion and struggled to hear what was being said to her. There was a bit more noise than usual inside the restaurant and for a second or so, Miranda made a mental note to mention this to her dear Eric, head chef of the place. However, she quickly focused again on the words being spoken to her.
She knew her companion quite well. In fact she had known her for the better part of the last 15 years. Friend and foe all wrapped in one, Jacqueline Follet was -nonetheless- one of those formidable people that both fascinated and bothered Miranda till no end.
And tonight, perhaps because her own relationship with Andrea was so rocky, or perhaps because she wanted to forget or maybe even because she wanted to remember what it felt to be able to be on the prowl again, she leaned closer and smiled.
“Miranda..?”
The silver haired editor heard the beloved voice of her lover from afar, as if she had been trapped in a box and the sound was just a trace of something much louder.
She ignored it; Andrea could not be there.
But Jacqueline’s face expression changed from a cheeky grin to a wide eyed smirk and that made Miranda’s face turn.
To face the devastated look of Andrea’s face.
***
Andy had finished delivering her message and thankfully, the client did not request her presence for longer; one look at her from head to toe and he declined for which Andy was utterly grateful.
The last thing she had wanted was to spend more time away from her home and her children.
Oh yes, and Miranda.
So she retrieved he music cd and left.
This time, however, she had to exit the private dining room through another door which forced her to walk through the main dining room of the restaurant.
As she checked she had everything she needed, she walked past by two tables and something, a very slight image she barely saw through the corner of her right eye, made her turn.
Miranda.
Miranda sitting with some woman.
Miranda sitting on a table in the company of Jacqueline Follet.
Smiling.
***
“Andrea?”
Miranda’s perception felt somewhat delayed as if her brain processes had slowed down to a sluggish crawl. She could see her lover standing in front of her but her cerebral cortex was having difficulties interpreting the input her neurons were receiving.
This was not happening.
She really had not been doing anything wrong and, in all honesty, her intentions at that very moment would have never taken her to push for anything further with her companion. However, she felt as if she had been caught red handed in the middle of a compromising situation.
“Miranda?” asked the young woman.
Miranda’s brain frontal lobes finally kicked her into action and she stood up in the hopes of calming her girl down. “Calm down, everything’s alright, Andrea...”
But Andy’s expression did not waver. Her eyes kept drifting from her lover to the woman sitting at the table who looked so pleased at the spectacle. “How could you? What is this? Why are you here?”
Miranda took hold on her lover’s wrist which proved a fatal move.
“No! Don’t touch me!” shouted the brunette with rage on her voice. She recoiled her arms away from Miranda’s grip at the same time as all patrons around them, turned to watch them.
“Andrea, calm down...” hissed Miranda who had been hoping to appease her lover and avoid an embarrassing and very public scene.
Brown eyes turned darker with rage. “Don’t you dare tell me to calm down, you liar! No wonder you’ve shown no interest in me! No wonder you wanted me home with the children, you...you...!”
The next thing she knew, Andy felt herself being led by the very strong hand of Miranda on her wrist. Miranda walked quickly and silently through the tables as all eyes locked on them with surprise; too stunned to react at loud. They finally arrived at the secluded entrance of the bathrooms and Andy yanked her wrist with force away from Miranda for the second time that evening.
“Enough Andrea! Enough!” said the editor with a very dangerous edge on her voice.
A dangerous edge that the young woman chose to ignore.
Completely.
“Or what? What? You have some nerve Miranda Priestly! You’re the one who’s out with someone else, very cosy and romantic and I’m the one who is supposed to keep quiet? Go rot in hell and leave me alone, you liar! This is your idea of love, huh? It’s shit!” shouted the young woman whose level of rage had grown exponentially in the past few minutes to the point that all she really wanted to do now was to leave that stupid restaurant so she wouldn’t have to see the face of the woman she loved more than anything in the world, besides their children.
Her lover’s words cut though her like a hot blade, slicing her soul as efficiently as a katana would have gone through the body of a rival samurai. Miranda’s heart stopped; she loved Andrea more than she loved her own life and to listen to those words was more than she could bear.
Tears quickly filled the azure eyes.
Tears of remorse, anger, frustration...devastation.
Andy took notice of the reaction but her fury was too immense and her pride too great, to yield. “I’m leaving and don’t you dare come into our bedroom tonight. Leave me the hell alone...” whispered the brunette with a broken voice.
And just as she was to turn and leave, her blackberry went off.
It was their daughter Cassidy and that call could only mean that something was wrong with one of the children.
“Hello?” asked Andy with fear.
“Andy, it’s Daniel. He’s running a very high fever...”
“Take Roy and meet me at the Presbyterian ER. I’ll call his doctor...”
As soon as she hung up with their daughter, Andy looked up. “Daniel is running a high fever...” her voice full of panic.
“We’ll go through this as we always have, Andrea...-said Miranda trying with all her might to be calm and collected even if her insides were pushing her over the edge of despair-...Call Doctor Mezitis and I’ll get my handbag and call Charles to take us to the hospital...”
Andy looked up with tears of dread; a silent plea in those brown eyes.
Miranda recognized the need in her lover and gently cupped her face. “He’ll be fine, my love, I promise you...” she whispered and kissed her girl, very gently, hoping her gesture would convey hope and peace.
Even if she herself, was not completely sure of the outcome of the situation.
The brunette smiled coyly and nodded nervously as her fingers pushed the buttons needed to retrieve the number of their son’s specialist.
Forgotten lay the angry words of minutes past.
And Miranda did not know whether she should be frightened or grateful.
***
Three hours later, a sleepy Daniel had wrapped himself around Miranda’s torso. His head lay on his mother’s shoulder as she held him very close to herself while she listened to his doctor’s words.
“You have got to remember that you’re all very lucky. Yes, he does have Barth syndrome but his case is so mild that sometimes a fever is just a regular cold and not necessarily an indication of anything major. Nor all his colds will end up in severe cases of bacterial pneumonia...”
“So he’ll be fine?” asked Andy as she held Miranda’s hand who in turn, squeezed the fingers laced in hers.
“Yes Andrea, he will be fine...he’s already better...it's just a cold. Nothing on the blood work or the culture we did, indicates anything more serious than that...”
“Okay, okay...Thank God...”
“So go home, give him the meds we prescribed, love him a lot and enjoy him...he’s fine...”
Both women nodded and exhaled at the same time; relief washing over their souls like a balm.
Andrea gathered their belongings as Miranda carried the boy in her arms as he peacefully slept.
Minutes later, the couple, Daniel and Cassidy stepped into the spacious limo. Miranda still held their son tight.
“So he’ll be fine..? It was just a cold?” asked the teenager with some anxiety.
Andy slid her right arm across Cassidy’s shoulders and hugged her gently. “Yes sweetie, he’ll be just fine...thank you for acting so fast...”
The teenager just shrugged and closed her eyes enjoying the warmth of the woman who had become a second parent to her.
When they arrived at the house, Miranda went straight to Daniel’s room followed by Andy. Together they lay the child on his bed, took his shoes off and covered him gently. Andy leaned forward to kiss his forehead while Miranda watched; her girl had been so frightened that seeing her at peace now was as wonderful as knowing that their son was fine.
Some minutes later, Miranda left the boy and stepped into Cassidy’s room to kiss her good night. The girl had fallen asleep in her jeans and t-shirt. The editor smiled at the sight; pride and amusement combined. She opened a door in the hallway and retrieved a comforter; no point on waking the girl up. She covered her daughter gently, kissed her on the cheek and turned off the lamp on the night table.
Finally, she arrived in her own bedroom. She walked to the walk-in closet and took off her heels. Exhaustion was finally taking over at 1 am. She also disposed of her jacket and walked towards the bathroom only to find Andrea apparently, waiting for her.
The pain, the anguish and the fear that Miranda saw before, were back in full swing.
“What were you doing having dinner with Jacqueline Follet?” asked Andy point black.
Miranda was somewhat taken aback by the accusation implicit in the question but inhaling deeply, she decided to answer truthfully.
“It was just a business dinner...”
“A business dinner? For a business dinner you seem very snug and comfortable with that woman...”
“I won’t deny it was rather a pleasant occasion, no...”
Andrea’s face changed from bother to angry. “So you’re not denying you were having a great time, then?”
Miranda decided this had gone far enough. Walking towards her lover she motioned to grab Andy but the brunette turned around. “Don’t Miranda...”
The older woman ignored the plea and wrapped her arms around her lover’s waist who was now, leaning onto the marbled counter of the bathroom suite. Tightly holding Andy, Miranda brought her closer to her body, relishing in the feel of that lean body she knew and loved so well. “Don’t what? You don’t want me to hold you?”
In a whimper, Andy yielded to her lover’s touch; that was what she was craving for after all...Miranda’s embrace...Miranda’s love.
Looking at the mirror, with tears forewarning a flood, Andy’s lower lip quivered slightly.
Her whole body spoke of the terror she felt.
“Are you going to leave me?”
Miranda was so astonished by the question that she opened her mouth to speak but found herself at loss for words. She immediately disengaged from Andrea and turned her around with some haste in her movements.
“What? What makes you think I want to do that?”
The tears rolled freely now. It was the final scene of many lived in the past few weeks. After all those hours, the brunette found she couldn’t cope with the thought of not having Miranda’s love any more.
‘The ironies of life’ she thought as she remembered her own feelings of insecurity and dread at the thought of losing Andrea. Reaching for the brunette’s face with her left hand, she brought it up to face her making sure her lover would not miss what she had to say.
“Andrea...”
Impossibly dark eyes opened at the sound while a soft thumb graced the velvet skin. “Andrea, I am never going to leave you...”
The girl’s face turn into a painful grimace; her words rushed and chopped. “But...but...you...I thought...”
Miranda stepped in and again, just as she had done earlier that evening, she brushed her lips softly over the ripe lips of her lover who moaned gently. As she moved her lips tenderly on Andrea’s, Miranda remembered their first kiss and all the promises it entailed.
All the promises she had made.
And the one she had not delivered yet.
Breaking the kiss, she pulled back and cupped her girl’s face as she stared intently and smiled tenderly. She leaned in to peck Andrea’s lips once again and whispered, “Wait here...”
Andy nodded.
Two minutes later, Miranda was back. Standing tall in front of Andy, Miranda let her blue eyes wandered over the formal attire of the brunette. Smiling, she kissed her again. Parting she mumbled, “I would have never thought you’d look so stunning in men’s’ formal wear...”
Andy smiled coyly, blushing furiously in a matter of seconds. “It was for the assignment I had to cover tonight...”
“Well, I should hope so...” added the editor holding her lover’s left hand. “But next time...perhaps...just for future references...I should be the one wearing it...”
The brunette looked puzzled and just as she was about to ask why, her eyebrows shot upwards in surprise and awe; Miranda was bending down to kneel on one knee.
“Oh shit...”
Blue eyes looked up in reproach. “No need to restore to vulgarity, my love...”
“Oh God...Oh God...”
Miranda knelt on one knee in her luxurious Oscar de la Renta skirt and blouse. She brought her hand to the right pocket of ample skirt and brought out a little box. She opened it to disclose an exquisite round cut, Tiffany setting engagement ring.
Miranda’s silk clad legs shone against the halogen lights and Andy started to hyperventilate.
This was just not possible.
“Andrea...will you marry me?”
***
In the middle of the colossal walk-in closet, a young redhead no more than sixteen years old and a little boy, no more than three, smiled broadly as they watched Andy collapse onto Miranda nodding and repeating “Yes, yes” as she draped her body around her kneeling lover.
Cassidy picked up her little brother and whispered with a smile, “Finally!”
And the sweet, brown eyed boy with freckles, a cow lick and the most beautiful smile this side of the Hudson River, smiled back and nodded, “Yeah”.
FIN.
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