This isn't love. It was insomnia.
Or the champagne she had not sipped, glibly toasting Jacqueline's new job with James Holt was to blame for this difficulty with falling asleep Miranda was suffering from.
Miranda was in the most luxurious four poster bed, cocooned under the finest woven bed linens.
It had nothing whatsoever to do with Andrea leaving her, so suddenly without a word, or a deserved explanation said to her face, or even a good reason given for walking away like that.
Like that Andrea perhaps lost her mind.
How dare Andrea do that to her.
Andrea Sachs was a milquetoast and mostly spineless coward.
She tried to phone her and saw with narrowed blue eyes behind her dark sunglasses, Andrea threw the phone in the fountain and just walked away.
Miranda couldn't believe it.
Stephen with the divorce papers sent last night she thought was unsurpassed in hurting her deeply but now Andrea doing this in the middle of fashion week to her took the cake.
Miranda water breaking and in labor with Roy on Lexington and Madison in mid-morning traffic was less stressful.
At the show, Miranda couldn't focus on the gowns and could have said they were fuchsia and magenta with zebra stripes.
Nigel saw she was upset.
She only thought of her. She needed her. That was the simple fact, she need that smiling girl to be right here beside her.
That infuriating and insolent girl was someone she should never have given a chance to.
Miranda had built defenses against a person like her.
Yet she fell like an old fool for her warm trust her eyes.
She'd built icy walls around herself so she'd never be seen as weak, she was cautious, Miranda protected herself and she was always cool and independent needing no one and believed herself to be unbreakable.
Indifferent.
At least she thought she was. Before Andrea.
Who came barreling ungracefully into her life, in such ugly shoes, Miranda winced at that memory.
The coltish thing had no clue of who she was.
Glancing at the ornate clock, reading 2am. Exhaling out with a growl, she couldn't sleep, she had a long day ahead with the shows and interviews and she was not able to stop flickers of Andrea and her hurt eyes playing over on her mind.
Pushing at a large pillow in frustration, as if its lumpy form was Andrea, taking her irritation out on the plump pillow, Miranda's mouth thinned.
She was just a silly little assistant.
The impertinent brunette just fetched and delivered her dry cleaning nightly.
Nothing more.
Sleepless because of her brown eyes.
Miranda once forgave Andrea for coming upstairs and witnessing her and Stephen arguing but she went too far with this.
She would call around to every periodical back in New York and ruin her career. With one word from her, Andrea would never work in publishing ever. Just like that.
Andrea didn't know how sharp her talons were.
She should and would call Helen in HR, to make a note on Andrea's file, to warn anybody seeking a reference for Andrea, how she was unreliable and also on her orders not to hire back that big smiling fat brunette.
She should…
She should stop thinking about that unstylish brat right now and get some needed sleep.
Pushing her snowy white head back into her pillows with frustration, turning on her side so she was now overlooking the lights of Paris.
Her favorite city.
Stephen should be here. Next to her.
She thought he was joining her. No he instead just faxed her divorce papers. After four years, he thought ending their marriage like that was acceptable treating her like that.
Stephen just like everybody else except her babies and her dog couldn't stand being in the same room with her.
Squinting at the sparkling lights, she needed to start wearing her glasses more often, she was getting old, running her hand through her white hair, curling up her fist to the fine cotton sheet.
She had work she should get to at 2:05 in the morning, she had to do something to get Andrea off her mind.
She'd have to contact her lawyer about the divorce, Page Six would devour this news of another failed marriage and she'd call to warn Greg that the girls must not be subjected to being harassed by the press and also since she was up, Miranda rubbed her lids, yawning she'd call down to room service for some coffee and perhaps some warm buttery croissants.
She'd do it herself and not phone Andrea to do so and let her sleep longer…
Miranda stopped with eyes wide at that thought instantly.
Andrea wasn't here. Andrea was gone now. For good.
She was fine with that. She was perfect. She had got by without Andrea before. For years.
She could do without her again.
Not wanting to think about what Runway Paris would send her to replace Andrea with. No one could.
Why had she even hired that troglodyte to style and fashion that morning when her facialist ruptured a disc?
The girl was a complete disaster.
The girl was mouthy and all wrong for her…her magazine.
Pinching her nose bridge, she knew why.
She liked how Andrea captured her interest instantly. She'd noticed her for more than a moment as Emily strode with her and took her tasks assigned.
Behind sunglasses, Miranda took her in.
Grimacing behind her shades at such a sad shapeless bargain basement casual corner dresser but her eyes. Her eyes struck her.
It was so obvious even Nigel hinted at it lately, right to her face.
It was not true.
No. She was not attracted in any shape or form to unfashionable Andrea.
Andrea was though quite lovely even before Nigel did a makeover and she was so not like others around her, Miranda's mouth firmed, it's just she was so very different to all of her past assistants.
She wasn't simpering or stupid.
Andrea had a brain.
Talking to Irv Ravitz about John Cheever ghost writing and charming him with her wholesome Miss Ohio grace, helping her save face for Stephen being drunk.
Andrea was also teeth grating ignorant about fashion which was Miranda's air and also she was unfiltered and raw and not like a typical shallow Runway employee around her.
Call her just Andy boldly spoke up and back.
Paul and Lucia almost swallowed their tongues that morning.
Miranda retaliated and made her earn being called by her real name.
If she'd stayed by her side, Andrea could have been a Junior Editor in a few years.
Under her care and generous guiding Andrea had a future with her.
That stupid girl today.
Miranda had been married twice and now twice divorced to two men who couldn't live with her or stay married to her.
Greg and Stephen.
Wealthy and handsome, both had pursued her. Wanted her. Seduced by the image and legend she was.
Greg or Stephen never knew her.
Just Miriam.
Both were nothing like Andrea.
She was so perky and kind and she pressed her lips together in cute deep concentration when taking down only legible to her shorthand.
She ate grilled cheese sandwiches. Tripped daily in heels clumsily that it was a wonder nobody at Runway had posted it on YouTube yet and if they did Miranda would fire them and she knew each of the security guards names.
She had big brown eyes and a smile you can hear through the phone.
Once brightly but accidently transferred Karl's call to the mail room. Complimented one new couturier's pet Pomeranian Panda dog as cuteness overload.
Andrea was dorky but was switched on more than Emily.
Miranda was charmed by Andrea's comment about one new collection looking like a spring garden Impressionist painting.
She thought the exact same.
Slowly the silly girl made Miranda like her. Andrea seeped her sunniness with ease which got under her porcelain cold blooded skin, more than anyone's ever been able to.
The dragon of the 17th floor, noticed everything about Andrea.
Often Miranda heard how she was with Emily. Both of them were completely unaware she took in everything Andrea spoke about.
Andrea talked a lot.
She also was not just smart but well-read and funny at attempts of pronouncing names.
Miranda had to school her face at some attempts.
Then she discussed Nate and his obsession with porn that almost made Miranda gasp and thus be known she was eavesdropping.
Miranda Priestly did not eavesdrop on her staff. Except on Andrea.
Andrea's boyfriend liked porn. Miranda's arched brows drew together.
Now he sounded on the line like a pervert to her. Miranda once had spoken to him, taking the phone from Andrea. Telling dear Nate that Andrea would call him later.
"It's all he talks about." Andy complained as she clicked on Miranda's appointment diary.
Cut and Pasting a reminder.
"Last week it was Thai and now he's into Japchae. Can't get enough of that. He wants me to watch it for hours and enjoy it with him and try it out."
"If it's what he likes. Let him get on with it." Emily suggested.
Emily was so casual about it.
Miranda was listened riveted but disapproving, fingering her necklace, Andrea's Nate was a pig about sex.
Andy was fed up with Nate and his food porn. How many pictures could he snap by his phone, plates of runny eggs with maple bacon and clicking Andy's brunch of ricotta chive hotcakes with honeycomb butter was getting out of hand.
Andy was pulling the plug on the Food Network.
"I'm tired of giving in and tasting his out of this world mouthful of his coq..."
Emily typed one key and interrupted Andrea's words.
"Didn't you almost choke on his cemen dip?"
Nate just ambushed her, coming home sore in her Choo's, held spoon out to try it, and Andy glance read the container and almost choked.
It beat shrimp flavored crack she saw once with Nate in Chinatown as he was sampling weird animal parts she refused to taste.
She was only ever adventurous on holiday with bat milk she'd tried. Her sis Jill was still disturbed by Pet Sweat water.
"It was just so spicy. I like Nate's to be creamier maybe some zest to it."
Miranda had heard quite enough. Quite scandalized.
Andy filed with her head ducked down. "I suggest one night let me have go at it, but he gets all possessive of his Bain-marie which I bought him, warning me, don't Andy, you'll bend my chive-Miranda…Andy stopped talking to Emily at seeing her in her office doorway.
Her eyes fell on hers.
"Andrea sharing coitus stories is not what I call working is it."
Andy gulped.
Coitus. Huh.
Andy blushed at her waspish elegant boss saying coitus, scrambling up from her chair in her Donna Karan slacks. Emily almost suffered whip lash to straighten her desk up with Miranda standing there.
After fetching Miranda coffee at a record time, a printout was left of living with partners with sex addiction.
Andy just stared at it the whole afternoon.
The girl made her actually worry about her.
Miranda felt concerned hearing about her stories on riding the subway. Miranda had Roy drive her on late nights. Anything could happen to the new to the city Ohioan.
Emily was fine she'd survived Woolwich for a date.
Andrea could end up lost in South Bronx and told to hold a paper bag of Alice B. Toklas brownies and she would.
It was like Miranda sent Bambi to survive the concrete jungle.
Nigel was horrible suggesting to Andy to follow breadcrumbs back to Miranda, The Wicked Witch when she got out her map like a tourist to do one errand.
That or wear a tag labelled return to Runway.
He was simply cruel making Andrea believe she had to raise her hand to ask permission to go pee.
Of course Nigel thought Andy was from south of Neanderthal after discovering her not knowing who Bill Cunningham was or Isabella Blow or about Miranda's annual designer ball at the Met.
Just an intimate night of 700 of Miranda's closest friends.
Nigel asked after if she opened beer bottles with her toes or her pearly veneers.
Her dearest friend Oscar thought she was sweet and for the first month picking up samples from many designer showrooms who normally sneered had never encountered anything like friendly beaming Andrea before.
They had voiced if Miranda hired a real life insipid Disney Princess or a fresh out of Charm school girl from Utah.
She even a few weeks ago, sent Nigel, a delivery of Ice & Vice for a bad break up he'd had.
Smiling fully at that gesture, Andrea had left for the day but had truly surprised Nigel with ice cream delivered, it was rather sweet way to cheer up as he tried to tempt Miranda with a choice of flavor, holding out one of the cartons.
Red wine cocoa flavor.
Miranda declined that late night. Sugar couldn't help this layout.
Nigel of course, brought it up. That she liked Andrea.
Rigid in her chair.
He could see it. There was something.
There wasn't.
No Little Miss Wholesome had not got to her.
Andrea could out nice everybody.
Nigel was perfectly wrong. He continued buoyed on by Madagascan vanilla with Mexican dark chocolate swirl as he glanced at the framed photo of her and Stephen. Their wedding photo and honeymoon. It looked forced.
"She likes you."
Miranda bent head raised slowly, staring at him from her folders of work. Her mouth curved up.
"Nigel don't lie." Miranda pressed her pen with a flick, that gown was not appearing in Runway. She truly despised sycophants.
"Six does. She's not scared of you anymore.'' Miranda feigned half listening, slipping off her heels under her desk.
"I shall have to terrify Andrea tomorrow morning." Miranda retorted.
"We talk about you." Nigel shared.
Miranda pressed her lips together dangerously.
"Really what does Andrea say about me?" Miranda gripped her Cartier pen tightly.
Andrea would be getting coffee hot as Hades till midnight tomorrow if she heard Andrea had uttered even one rude profanity that many called her.
It never fazed her before, it was what she was after all but if Andrea said it, it would really hurt.
''This and that. She thinks you have an incredible mind and you look very beautiful in Valentino and often wonders what you look like without anything on. She's also frozen with desire every time you speak or walk pass."
Almost sputtering on her sip of cold coffee, Miranda choked out as she blinked. "What!"
Nigel smirked at his Editor's shocked face, her flawless pale skin flushed pink.
Offering his cobalt blue Irish linen pocket square, which Miranda took, recovering as she mopped up her papers and glass desk irritated by the realization that Andrea had developed a crush on her.
Great. Superb. That now explained her gormless expressions lately when she spoke.
If it got out of hand, Miranda would distribute her elsewhere.
To Laurie or Mhaire.
"She has a crush on me?" Miranda said this very disgusted. As if Andrea burped.
Wonderful Andrea had been afflicted with the inevitable worship her clacker syndrome. The dreaded fawn and kiss her Louboutins heels.
Nigel shook his bald head. "A crush is what Emily has. Six likes you. There's a difference."
"Is there?" Miranda snarled.
"Yes. Six is different. "
"Is she? How is she different Nigel? Tell me."
"Andy cares about you. Last week when Stephen yelled on the phone at you running late. Didn't you see how protective she was about you? I did. Emily did."
"Miranda she called Stephen a self-centered putz. You let it go."
Miranda stilled. She had noticed it, but Andrea was only an employee, she was not close to her, they weren't friends hardly that and yet she had stayed late as Miranda worked quietly in her office and Andrea wasn't even needed by her that evening, as she sat loyally at her desk reading, she even got Catriona an intern in Art to bring dinner to go from a bistro Miranda had once mentioned she liked to try.
Andrea ordered for her. Nobody dared at Runway.
"Miranda. Andy knew how you hate beets. Does Stephen know that?" Nigel questioned.
Miranda's lips pursed.
That didn't mean anything. So Andrea knew what she liked to eat.
"Last Monday your face lit up when she smiled at you at the smallest garden in the city."
Miranda froze, she did not smile like that. It was the exquisite Raf Simons worn behind her.
"Don't you see how she looks at you? Does Stephen look at you that way?" Nigel pressed on.
"Nigel. Andrea lives with that fry cook. She doesn't need to care about me." Miranda icily informed.
"Miranda. She does care. Just let her."
"No. I need her do her job Nigel. Only that. Her caring I do not need or require." Miranda knew Andrea was a kind thoughtful good person.
She likened her to a human golden retriever dog.
Take how she put up with Emily's snarky disposition with a never waver big smile.
Emily was plain vicious for the last week towards Andrea about being picked for Paris instead of her but Andrea still thoughtfully went to Emily's place and brought her things to her hospital room, and even brought something Emily loved and had on her desk.
Her Kissy Pig.
Which made Emily dissolve into giggles courtesy of painkillers and only stopping to glare at Andrea as if she'd run over Emily herself.
Andrea was adorable, feeling so guilty she'd downloaded a few videos of swimming with feral pigs in the crystal blue waters of The Bahamas.
Miranda over Andrea's shoulder now knew Emily's wish.
Not only Paris. Her bucket list wish was Aqua aerobics with snuffling piggy's' on a tropical beach.
Nigel teased it should be called bacon cay.
Miranda did not blush like a school girl at Andy's accidently uploaded photos skinny dipping in crystal blue waters in Thailand on her gap year.
She saw naked bodies all the time.
So she stared at Andrea's toned bum longer then Karlie's. It was aesthetic not ogling.
Andrea also bought the redhead in a leg cast, a brown bag of cheese. Emily cut her eyes calling it guilt. Eating a cube of Cheshire.
"Six also doesn't just admire your mind greatly. She likes lots of things about you. Miranda. She's in lo …" Nigel suddenly stopped talking, over what he almost just said and almost just shared with Miranda, Andy would kill him.
Especially about how she had feelings for her boss.
Miranda had pressed her IPhone in a cradle with Yo-Yo Ma playing.
Miranda gave Nigel a piercing lasery blue glare and went right back to her layout in front of her. Ignoring Nigel was the best attitude. Right. Andrea admired her intelligence.
The girl thought fashion was stupid. Her world full of airheads. That snort from the run through proved it.
"Miranda, don't."
"Don't what?" Miranda snapped her white head back up at Nigel who was staring at her.
"Don't be like you are…just don't keep yourself from her."
"Andy's actually someone worth you. Not like him. Just give her a chance and let her in." Nigel indicated Stephen in the frame holding her.
Miranda followed his gaze to the picture of them. Wincing at him and her.
"Nigel I have no idea what you are on about."
"Yes you do." Nigel continued bravely.
"Is unhappiness stuck with him worth more to you than that diamond ring you wear Miranda?"
Miranda's ring was from Tiffany, Stephen proposed with his mother's ring and it didn't fit the day Stephen asked her to marry him.
It had to be resized down.
A prelude to not wedded bliss together.
Mrs. Tomlinson had fat fingers.
She was married, married to Stephen. They were very happily. No not really happy she'd say but in the big picture Stephen was a good choice as her husband.
Even if he was more turned on by the stock market then her.
He was everything she should want.
They never got married for love.
Nigel refused to drop it. Hinting that Andy was perfect for her, to try to get to know her more.
"Ask her to join you and have a drink with Andy in Paris and see how amazing she is. Maybe see and share a sunrise together."
Nigel wiggled his brows at Miranda for emphasis.
"I will not."
"Miranda she's really interesting, did you know she swam with dolphins in …"
Miranda cut him off.
"Andrea is only my assistant Nigel. She works for me. Andrea can marginally now fetch and bring coffee to me without any incident. But today I wonder why I even hired her. Her running around resembling a germinating bag lady, and she answers the phone far too friendly for my liking. She said Okey dokey to the London office. Bronwyn almost dropped the phone. Maxima in Milan hung up on her yesterday. Nigel you know Max is not a morning person."
Yes of course she knew Andy snorkeled with flipper and also had very little on in another snap she'd briefly seen. She also had a tattoo and nearly was killed on a rented scooter and made an ass out herself with baby elephants.
Cassidy and Caroline were more mature then Andrea having a covering her mouth and giggling nervous breakdown over Dumbo.
Raising a brow at her eviscerating Andrea's incompetence today.
"Miranda you're allowed to like her. I see that you do."
"Nigel is this supposed to be a sophisticated photo shoot why does it look like a pool hall in Jersey?" Changing the subject of Six.
Protecting herself.
Nigel sighed, he knew not to push, as he went to get something from his office.
Miranda ran her fingertip over her mouth. She did not like Andrea. At all.
Have drinks with Andrea and see a sunrise in Paris with her, where on earth did he think up such a ludicrous corny rom com idea.
Dipping a new spoon into Nigel's other ice cream carton in temperance.
Red Wine Dark Chocolate Cocoa. Mmm...
Fine maybe a little bit of her did like nerdy Andrea. Grudgingly. What this silly creature was doing to her lately. Heaven help her.
Andrea was not in any shape or form, her perfect person, she was a wrong fit for Runway from day one but yet Miranda couldn't just fire her.
Couldn't get rid of her. She didn't want to.
Miranda knew she came pretty close to firing Andrea after delivering The Book and going upstairs.
Nigel was wrong she cared about her.
Right she really cared about her.
It sure showed. Leaving her like this.
Glancing over at their adjoining door, Andrea was to be close by and on call at any hour she might be needed and now Miranda had no doubt that Andrea had swiftly scurried away and left the hotel hours ago.
She was spineless I'm a hard worker big brown eyed liar.
Fleeing from her, the reptile of Seventh Avenue, the serpent of style, the bitch in heels, Miranda's mouth pursed, knowing she must be on the first flight back to New York.
She hoped Andrea lost her luggage and had turbulence and sat in cramped economy through the whole flight, with one thought, terrified of what she'd do to her for walking away.
She also hoped Andrea stayed hydrated it was a really long flight and with any luck, Miranda vindictively could only wish for a screaming toddler crying through the whole flight home to arrive jetlagged and wallow back to her downtown hovel.
It served Andrea right. Walking away from her.
Flipping on a lamp in her luxury suite. She got up.
She'd have coffee and work to forget about her for a few hours.
It was raining outside.
Her bare foot met slick smoothness, Miranda's head bent, looking down at it, so that's where it landed. After the last show, she'd thrown a folder with her name scribbled on it that the concierge had handed to her, along with her fur coat when she returned in fuming rage.
Miranda picked it up.
Staring at it wordlessly, smoothing the glossy image.
Miranda's vivid blue eyes were wet and smarted as her upper lip quivered at the photo she cradled in her hands. She felt spurned and discarded as she blinked to clear her vison.
Focusing down on it once more. On her.
Andrea's beautiful smile she traced with care.
It was taken last night.
Miranda knew. Her own face told her.
This was love.
She loved Andrea. When the hell did it happen?
Miranda was staring up at the ceiling and wondering how she got to be so cold.
And jaded.
Andrea Sachs was completely off limits.
For more reasons than just one. Their ages was one valid reason, jaws in Manhattan society would plop, at the dragon lady with Andrea twenty years younger and it was nothing but a small spark, she also had a boyfriend. That hairy cook she lived with.
Miranda had seen him once drop off her lunch for her.
Him. The boy resembled a teddy bear with a beard. Who was scruffy and inflicted porn on Andrea.
Andrea wasn't even properly employed now and she spoke to her Mom every day at the office, Miranda heard her many quit Andy conversations, it's not like she was alluring and she didn't have broad shoulders like Stephen did from squash or Greg's ginger morning stubble that scratched her.
That she always calculatedly urged him with small kisses to shave.
She wasn't the most beautiful woman Miranda had seen, but her eyes, her mouth. The way she held herself, made fun of herself easily.
What the hell was so special about that? Why did Andrea take such hold of her?
She disarmed her. Andrea made her shield melt down.
They had nothing in common. Andrea laughed undignified and listened to indie, Miranda needed Andrea in her life as much as she needed to tell Emily to live on white chocolate covered Cheetos and drink five milkshakes a day. They were completely wrong for each other.
Miranda was her boss. Only hours ago she was just her assistant but not now.
Placing the photo down. Andrea had left. She was out of her life. For good.
Now alone again.
Getting her IPad. Reaching for them to put on, where were her glasses?
"Idiot!" Andy said, looking at herself in the mirror and seeing the tears seeping out of the corner of her eyes.
Tearing off a paper towel from the dispenser on the restroom wall, she dabbed at the tears, then saw that her eyes were red.
Which of course made sense since she'd now been crying for most of the last seventeen hours.
Walking away from her was the hardest thing Andy did. She was free from Miranda now.
Blowing her nose loudly, scrunching up the paper. Pulling herself together, she was fine.
The café was around the corner from the hotel.
Going back to a table, Andy sat down.
The waiter who didn't speak English and Andy who hardly spoke french somehow took her drink order.
Andy checked her phone. No luck. She was stuck in Paris.
Another shot of courage in her glass, even if it was really good but fifteen euros for mint iced coffee, Andy was trying so hard to shake away all her fears, after what she did this morning to Miranda, inside she was just a weird wiggly ball of anxiety.
Now she also was jobless and phoneless.
Andy also was feeling like a pathetic puddle of miserable, being in unrequited love with her now last boss.
Hello to surviving on PBJ sandwiches and a half empty studio apartment that Nate vacated last week.
With heavy eyes, Andy guiltily swallowed down the liquid in a big gulp, she was contrite about throwing her phone in the fountain earlier and never working under Miranda or seeing her white haired terror again.
Not daring to look back at Miranda on the steps earlier this morning.
Five minutes after doing that Andy realized she was a complete idiot.
Yet, she wasn't about to go and grovel at The Ice Queen for her job back.
There was no turning back from walking away from the unreasonable Editor.
Andy probably had been replaced in an hour.
That thought unsettled her.
As sure as Andy breathed, Miranda made her question all of her dreams of Nate and her. Being together. And all her wonders of what love was.
With Nate it wasn't love. It was making do. Settling. Andy didn't want to just settle.
Never had Andy wanted something no someone as bad as she did want Miranda.
Irony was Miranda didn't even know how she felt about her or see her really see her past being her disposable assistant who brought her coffee.
She had a better chance of getting hit by lightning for Miranda to feel the same way.
Miranda was cruel but she had her bound to her. How she felt about Miranda, she couldn't undo or unfeel.
Andy tried not to be in love with her. She didn't want to be at first.
It just sort of happened.
Last night looking at Miranda in her robe, upset about Stephen, she wanted to hold her and make it go away and maybe attempt to talk to her.
Them talk.
Emily would gain 150 pounds before that happened.
Of course Andy couldn't convey that handing her seating charts. She realized she was just Miranda's assistant. That's all. Go fetch Andrea. A Miranda girl nothing more.
Andy might as well as be drooling Patricia.
Then she had substitute sex with Christian. That was a big mistake.
Hung over and darting across Paris half-dressed, trying to talk to Miranda for just five minutes who wouldn't listen to her about Follet coup, Andy head hurt and she was mad about Nigel's dream crushed and plucked away by magnificently jettisoning Miranda's saving her own perfect derrière with her cunning and manipulations, Andy walked.
Her flight back was cancelled tonight and everything else was booked up and she hadn't really checked out, so the room she had was still hers.
Holding the key card between her fingers. Still staring at it. For the last few hours.
Running her hand through her dark sorrel hair.
She'd been avoiding returning to her room for hours now, because it was connected to Miranda's, about to ask for another drink, an alcoholic one, seeing that the bar was now closing up.
Andy had earlier changed into casual clothes as she'd packed her luggage so quickly.
Rummaging in her backpack, for money, Andy's hand stopped on it. Her hand held it up and examined her glasses.
Oh hell no.
Miranda wore these special prescription lenses. Made for her.
Andy stared at it. Like she held her doom.
Miranda needed her glasses.
They were probably forged by rare zebra wood or tortoise shell from Bali.
Andy grumbled, paying her tab, leaving a tip, slinging her bag over her shoulder.
She'd just leave them at the front desk.
Good plan Sachs. Hand them over for Ms. Priestly using your terrible high school french and get a cab to the airport and camp out till dawn or be in tears in a stall before boarding call.
Crossing the street to the hotel in the rain. Talking to the rain of why her lousy luck.
Andy groaned inside, no one was on at this hour, she'd have to see her again. Squaring her shoulders, she might as well go and get this over with.
What's the worst that can happen? She no longer worked for Miranda anymore, Andy smoothed her damp shaking palms on her dark jeans, getting onto the elevator and pressing up.
Her wet hair plastered to her face. Shivering Andy got off on her floor, feeling like she was taking a stroll to the guillotine, she'd just hand them to her.
Go and give her glasses back but do it quick and be ready to bolt to the elevator.
Andy ran a marathon once. She could jog from a dragon.
Andy swallowed her fear down. It was just seeing Miranda again at two in the morning for a few minutes, calming down.
She no longer worked for Miranda. Miranda was not going to have tea with Cersei.
Walking down to the hall to Miranda's room slowly.
Andy lip worried. Just knock and hand them quick Sachs. Breathe in. Breathe out. Andy vowed, No eye contact with that white haired siren, focusing on the silk wallpaper on the walls to the Penthouse door.
Andy stilled her strides.
She wouldn't run away from Miranda again not like this morning, Miranda deserved more from her than that, she'd knock on her door and face down the dragon and those ridiculing blue eyes and take it.
Whatever Miranda hurled or insulted or belittled her with. Andy would take it.
She'd done just that for months. Put up with Miranda being a bitch. What's a few minutes more to endure in her icy company?
Andy could vouch Miranda was the reigning queen on being contumelious.
Holding her breath and counting to ten with a weary sigh. Her hand knocked on Miranda's suite door.
Miranda's blue eyes looked through the peephole and saw her.
Actually Miranda could make out first just Andy in a clinging green Yellow Dog Nantucket faded sweatshirt
Looking as if she'd walked in a tsunami.
Opening her door to Andréa.
Her brown eyes met hers steadily holding her gaze. Croaking out with a slight crack of nerves. "Miranda. Hi again."
Beautiful blue eyes saw red connecting to her gentle brown.
Andy just knew she had a full on collision with the Ice Queen.
Miranda said it before she could stop herself. She was so angry at Andrea.
"That is what I want in return from you. Andrea. Your behavior this morning was deplorable."
Her robed arms crossed at the soaked brunette.
"That's unfair. I-I can't pay you for my room." Andy screeched, her mouth slack at how Miranda could be. Colder than winter and being her usual self, an insensitive icy bitch.
What she saw in her was a mystery, it was like Miranda lived to be cruel and acerbic. Had she been breastfeed on acidulous?
"Goodnight than."
Miranda took in Andy's wet appearance with a look of indifference and unconcern.
She was not coming around with what Andrea did to her this time.
Andy shrugged her bag off her shoulder and unzipped her backpack, and crouched down in the hallway rummaging through her things, nope that was a rolled t-shirt, her passport, wait she could have this.
"Here."
Andy held out scrunched up, about two hundred euros, one Parisian Metro card Miranda could navigate, an Amazon gift card hey Miranda could worry about her packages arriving ever, and a tiny jewellery box gift to her Mom that Andy got sightseeing Paris and a necklace, technically it was actually Lily's necklace, she'd loaned Andy once but Lily wasn't speaking to her.
"Andrea this is not barter for a room, get inside. Now."
Andy did so.
Drenched, Andy squelched in.
Miranda shut the door.
Pointing her finger into Andy with each word. "Andrea Sachs how dare you do that to me."
Andy just stared. Her mouth clamping shut wisely.
"You ruined my entire morning and my day. You bothered me in my meeting with Irv. I had to tell Irv, you take medication. What you did after the car to me, did you even think. No, Andy Sachs doesn't think. She just does whatever she wants with no care of consequences."
Miranda was always softly spoken and waspish, even firing people she never raised her voice.
Andy had never seen Miranda so vituperous and livid. Only right now towards her.
"I care."
Miranda lip curled.
"I'm sorry. I, Miranda just please… I'm sorry."
"You're sorry." Miranda repeated. Her eyes narrowing on the damp brunette.
"I didn't come here to upset you."
Miranda shook her head in disbelief, Andrea didn't come to her room to upset her, as her smile was cold on Andy. That smile was her thin nasty one.
"Really? Why did you decide to visit me now?" Miranda asked savagely. Aware of her palm still on Andy's damp chest, dropping it.
Andy's corner of her lips she bit.
"Did you come to beg for your job back?" Miranda mocked. Looking smug. Would Andrea beg her?
"No." Andy didn't want her job back.
Miranda's face fell. Her eyes hardened. "Good, because I don't want you back, working for me or Runway again. Answer me, why are you even here?"
"I came here. Because. I needed to see you again. Just because okay." Andy murmured this out lowly more to herself.
How did Andrea graduate college? Just because.
"Because?" Miranda demanded.
Andy shook her head at Miranda with her resting bitch face at her. She'd kept this bottled inside and didn't want to waste another moment, navigating Miranda so carefully and not say this to her.
She was not leaving this unspoken.
"Because. I love you. Miranda."
Miranda froze, what she was about to say dried on her lips like sand in it. Her brows rose up to her hairline. Her face looked like she'd been given an electrical jolt. What?
"Say something?" Andy pleaded. Her eyes gentle on Miranda's.
"You love me?" Miranda spoke this really softly.
"Yes."
"I lost my heart you and I don't know when it happened. You somehow made your heart in me Miranda. I do love you. Please. Just. Let's. We can just… "
"We?" Miranda just stared.
Miranda realized too late as she not meaning to, chuckled derisively at Andy. "Nigel said you had a little crush."
Tracing her lip with her long finger in that way that transfixed Andy, her lucid eyes crinkling amused.
"My my, the smart lumpy sweater wearing geek falling for me. Are you going to quote Keats or I've always been partial to Lorde 'Recreation'. No. Andrea I think since you love me, we should just do it?"
Andy trembled at her nails running up her arm.
"Take your clothes off."
Andy blinked. Her mouth fell open. What? Just like that. Have sex! Didn't Miranda want to talk or engage in some preliminary romance like dinner or a date …?
"Now where would you like to do it? Bed or sofa?" Untying her robe, Miranda asked.
Wh-hat? Andy mouth was dry. Why was Miranda doing this to her?
Miranda pointed to the sofa. "Andrea do undress. Quickly."
Andy squeaked. Swallowing her words speechless.
Miranda almost cracked up at the way Andrea looked so shocked. Andrea actually believed she'd demand sex just like that.
Tormenting Andrea was fun. Now if she could just make her beautiful eyes look even more scandalized.
Letting her robe fall down over her shoulders, making Andy's eyes grow bigger.
"Andrea how do suggest we begin? Should we do this hard and fast or slow and loving?"
Miranda was delighted at Andrea's face looking like she'd have cardiac arrest or was resembling a guppy.
"I guess hard. I have been quite tense. I want to orgasm twice. No dirty talk or tying you up just yet?"
Miranda was wielding her sensuality like a sadist.
Andy weighed her with growing revulsion. She'd given up Nate for something like her.
"Do take your clothes off. Andrea you silly thing." Tersely impatient Miranda scolded her. Crushes she didn't tolerate, she nipped in the bud cruelly.
Andrea had to stop looking at her like that.
Circling Andrea slowly, her finger ghosted along where her wet sweatshirt clung and hung off her shoulder tracing Andy's collarbone, feeling her shiver. Plucking at her chestnut hair between her fingers.
What was wrong with her? Andrea smelled just like soap, just hotel soap and fresh laundry and mint.
"I guess you're alright, I want to see you when I fuck…now undress. I don't expect stars or the earth to move…that's precious you're shy you want the lights off."
Going out of her way to hurt Andrea.
She saw she had.
Andy looked deeply hurt her dark eyes glassy by Miranda's reaction to her lovely words. Andy pressed her lips together and quietly took out her reading glasses, pressing them to her.
Not looking at her. Andy's eyes lowered to the ground looking at the carpet.
"Here take them. Miranda. Sorry, I'm such a big joke to you. I'll just go."
Andy's eyes showed her heart was breaking.
Her teeth and tongue spoke aloud how she felt about her. Eating the pain. She'd told her, how she felt about her and now she felt like complete crap.
Andy rubbed at her chest. It was tightening, she couldn't breathe. Needing her inhaler. Wheezing out.
Miranda saw something was wrong with her. "Andrea!" The blood seemed to drain from her face. "Andy."
Not able to breathe. Talk about falling to her knees for her.
"No." Miranda saw how her lips were turning blue. "Andy?" She'd taken CPR for the twins.
Going blank. Was she choking? What on her words of venom and vitriol. She didn't mean it. Seeing Andrea distressed, rushing to her.
Andy usually had it in her jacket pocket.
Where was it?
Andy gasped for air again, with a strong urgent yank of Miranda's hand in hers and pushing it to her back jean pocket as Miranda felt for it. Finding it.
Holding the inhaler out, pressing it to Andy.
Using it as she felt relief and able to breathe again as she was caught around her middle. Taking one more shaky puff.
Their eyes locking, helping Andy over to the sofa.
Collapsing with her onto the sofa, taking two steady breaths from the inhaler. In and out.
"Please be okay." Miranda urged. Her eyes worried.
Andy opened her eyes slowly to her. "Mmmm-kay."
Miranda's long fingers began stroking her tresses back from her face, Andy shivered under her warm fingertips on her scalp
"Miranda. Don't." Focusing her expressive brown eyes on her for a moment, Andy turned her face away.
She'd just leave in a minute or two. Almost getting up and away from her, but sunk back down into the couch, unsteady on her feet, great, now she was not just a joke to Miranda but weak.
"Andrea where do you think you're going?"
"I?" Andy mind went blank at what she was about to say, her brows drew together creasing at a caring Miranda.
"Now let's get you out of these wet clothes." Miranda began to undress Andy, starting with lifting her Yellow Dog shirt off her.
