Chapter 1
"Emily." Miranda called out from her office.
When no one appeared, she called again, "Emily."
"She means you." Emily Charlotte said monotonously as she continued to correct Miranda's schedule after the run through was pushed up again.
The other Emily, whose name was actually Heather, stood quickly and rushed towards the open office door with notepad in hand.
"Yes, Miranda?" Heather questioned unsteadily.
"Why must I call you repeatedly in order for you to do your job?" Miranda queried offhandedly before continuing without waiting for an answer, "Has the vintage Lagerfeld dress been delivered? It needs to be ready for the cover shoot on Tuesday. The article with Valentino needs to be completely redone and the writer of the one submitted needs to be fired immediately. The girls are returning this afternoon and will need to be collected from this train station along with Patricia. Tell Stephen I will not meet with him again. The divorce has been final for over a year and I refuse to be bothered with any more of his pathetic attempts to reconcile since he has blown through his wealth."
Heather worked furiously to jot down everything before replying, "The Lagerfeld is being delivered by courier this afternoon and should be here before the run through at 11 am. Roy has been informed and will be at Grand Central to retrieve the twins and Patricia at 2 pm before returning in time for the meeting with the new freelance writer from the New Yorker piece. All calls from Stephen will be forwarded."
Miranda just glanced at the new girl and waved a hand away in dismissal. This may be the one to allow Emily to move to the art department; She's certainly earned her stripes this year.
Miranda turned her chair towards the window in thought. This past year had been a headache, but not without its rewards. Upon the divorce being announced, her precious daughters expressed their delight in seeing the back of their former stepfather. Apparently, her Bobbseys needed no one else aside from their Mum; They just needed her to be more present.
Miranda has worked tirelessly over the past year to give them the stability they voiced with the help of their newest therapist. It was very rare for her to miss dinner with the girls or an important school event.
Irv was finally fired after his embezzlement was revealed following the Paris debacle and Diane was proving to be a true ally in continuing to create her vision for Runway.
All in all, there wasn't much Miranda could complain about and yet, there felt like something was missing.
Miranda's thought were broken by a screeching in the outer office. Turning, she saw both Emily's gesturing to the black bag that had been delivered, but the courier was long gone.
Standing, Miranda made her way toward her doorway.
"What is causing such hysteria? Honestly, do you not have enough to do? If that's the case, I can surely find something else." Miranda commented from behind both women.
Without hesitation, they moved to block the view of the dress and turned to face Miranda.
Neither spoke for a few minutes.
"Well?" Miranda prompts when no answer is forthcoming.
The two women before her said nothing still. Before Miranda could prompt them again, Nigel arrived in preparation for the run through. He paused upon seeing all the women in the outer office. Rather than comment, he turned his attention to the piece that was to be the centerpiece of this month's issue.
"Oh my Goddess! No!" He exclaimed after seeing the dress.
Miranda having enough of their antics, walked over to the dress and was struck speechless.
The black 1980 dramatic lace cutout dress that Jennifer Lawrence was to wear in the cover shoot in just four days had been delivered, but had white stains that were covering several areas on the bottom, back and sleeve of the dress.
It was unbelievable. Never had a dress been delivered in such a state. The restoration specialist employees by Runway had never been tasked with something like this. Vintage and lace were difficult to treat, Miranda knew from experience.
Taking a deep breathe, "Find me the best restoration expert in the city. Everything else is to put on hold. Get the Lagerfeld estate on the phone and find out where this dress was stored prior to it being provided to the courier and what state it was in and get the courier who delivered this back in here now." Miranda stated in a deadly whisper before moving back into her office.
Simultaneously, the three employees jumped into action. Nigel was on his cellphone, reaching out to every contact he had trying to find a restoration artist. Emily was speaking with the horrified representative from the Lagerfeld estate and Heather was tracking down the courier.
With an hour, they each walked into Miranda's office with a necessary piece of information that would hopefully keep them from paying the price of whoever had damaged the centerpiece.
"Well …" Miranda prompted.
Having decided beforehand that the solution was the most important thing to disclose first.
Nigel placed a sheet of paper on Miranda's desk with the name and address of the studio as well as the name of the restoration artist.
Knowing from experience, less is more in this situation, Nigel simply said, "Athchóiriú Iomlán."
Miranda simply raised an eyebrow in lieu of a request for further explanation.
"It means Total Restoration: the owner and artist is Andrea what I've been able to gather, her family has owned the business since the early 50s and she is considered the best restoration artist, not just in the city, but in the country. If there is a hope for this be corrected, she is who can make it happen." Nigel supplied before taking a step back and clasping his hands.
Miranda simply took the piece of paper, stood and asked, "Is Roy downstairs?"
"Yes, Miranda." Both Emily and Heather replied.
"Coat and bag." She stated as she walked past them towards the elevator.
"Come along, Nigel and put that back in the bag before anyone else sees it. Emily, tell the girls that I may be late tonight. If this Andréa is as good as I hope she is, that won't be necessary, but in case she is not, well." Miranda stated as she took the coat and bag offered and made it to the elevator as the doors opened.
Nodding her head, Nigel joined her.
As the elevator began its descent, she simply closed her eyes and took another deep breathe.
"I know, my friend. I thought it myself." Nigel commented upon seeing her expression.
The grief of his passing and now this was taking a true toll on his friend of over 40 years. It was still a shock to him, but the dress would hopefully, willfully if could, be restored and the tribute issue would be one of the greatest issues to hit the stands in just two weeks time.
No other word were said as they reached the lobby and made it to the Mercedes. Nigel hung the garment bag and provided Roy with the address. Anyone traveling with Miranda knew, that nothing was discussed unless Miranda initiated it. Today more than ever, seemed like the silence was required.
Miranda looked out the window and began to think of contingencies just in case this dress wouldn't be able to be fixed in time. She hadn't taken a good enough look at the damage to see if the stains were new or old. That one detail would make all the difference in whether it could be salvaged.
Fortunately, before Miranda could become frustrated about being forced into inactivity long, Roy pulled to the curbside before a building on a quiet street on the upper West Side. Looking at the seemingly nondescript building. It was clearly an older building, but was well kept, Miranda asked, "Are you certain this the correct location?"
"Absolutely." Nigel replied as he took the garment bag and walked to a buzzer. After pressing, a voice called, "Can I help you?"
"Yes, is this Athchóiriú Iomlán?" Nigel asked as he held the intercom button.
"It is. Who is asking?" the voice confirmed.
"Nigel Kipling. I work with Runway." Nigel replied.
Rather than any additional questions, the buzzer sounded and the door was unlocked.
Nigel glanced at Miranda and held open the door.
The pair made it through the door and were instantly within the floor room of what appeared to be a gallery. On the second floor, a young woman called out, "Come on up, Mr. Kipling."
Walking up to the second floor, Miranda and Nigel found a young woman, dressed in a well-made tailored suit with the jacket off and the sleeves rolled up leaning over a table. She appeared to be wearing magnifying glasses with a swab in one hand and bottle of some sort of solution in another.
"Don't be afraid to come closer. I just ask that you touch absolutely nothing." The woman asked from her position.
"Ms. Sach?" Nigel queried.
"Andy, please. I do apologize for not shaking your hand, Mr. Kipling. This solution is bit time sensitive. I have to neutralize it in order for this restoration to progress properly." Andy replied. "I believe I was told you have a bit of a time sensitive situation of your own.
Minda pursed her lips at such a ridiculous nickname being used for what appeared a very well dressed young woman.
"It is, yes. We've just received a piece that is be used in a shoot in four days, but, well, I think it's something you should see for yourself." Nigel suggested.
"Sure. If you want, you can just take a seat in the corner, I'll be with you as quickly as possible." Andy stated and gestured to the corner where there was a small seating area offhandedly.
Miranda and Nigel made their way to the seating area and found that they could still see the young woman. Miranda was curious as to how this woman, who couldn't be more than 25 was the best restoration expert in the city, or country as Nigel claimed. However, Miranda understood the artistry behind such work so she held off her instinct to ask questions.
After about 15 minutes, Andy stood from her position and stretched to work out the pain in her back. Looking towards her guest for the first time, she realized Mr. Kipling was not her only visitor. Andy was uncomfortable knowing this woman had been silently watching her all this time.
Walking towards her guests, she extended a hand and stated, "I do apologize for that. Usually, I try to avoid having anyone over while I am working on such pieces as it does not lend to my focus on anything else." Shaking Nigel's hand first, before turning to his guest and seemingly for the first time. The hand that had been extended dropped before Andy could control her reaction.
Standing slightly straighter, Andy grasped her hands behind her back and nodded at the woman who she had heard about growing up and since moving to New York, her name was everywhere.
"Miranda Priestly. It's a pleasure to see you again." Andy said sincerely.
Miranda was struck at the sincerity in her voice. Tilting her head slightly, Miranda took a closer look at the woman before her and questioned, "Again? Have we met before?"
Andy smiled and replied, "You could say we've met many times."