A BIG thank you to my beta MirandaMinerva! I must say I am so glad (and so very grateful) to have had her as my beta. There were so many of my mistakes that I didn't catch and scenes I wouldn't have been able to convey without her help. I'm completely honest when I say, this story could not and would not have made it to this site without you. Thank you again! Cheers!
Therefore, I must say I scribbled in some final touches whilst reading over again, so current mistakes are completely mine.
Set at the ending of DWP movie. Miranda POV.
A/N: Not sure if Roy went with them to Paris, but for the sake of my sanity we'll say he did because Miranda trusted no other driver. lol
"Andr…"
Where is Andrea? Miranda thought to herself as she searched the crowd behind her. The place where her most trusted assistant should have been.
Her heart had begun to race wildly in her chest. Where could she have gone? As she thought that final word, she finally set her eyes upon Andy walking across the street, walking away, from her. Miranda's heart skipped a beat; quite possibly two beats.
Her stomach churned at the sight. All at once, everything around Miranda went away. She began to see spots grow, shrink and change colors in her eyes as her vision tunneled until the only thing she could see was Andy walking away…Her heart beat faster until it threatened to burst. Her legs began to tingle with the warning pricks of weakness.
Miranda couldn't even think or move at this point. She could only stand on those lonely steps as she watched Andrea disappear from her sight.
"It is so nice of you to be here for this event, Miranda!" One of the male attendees said.
To Miranda, it was just a mumbled mess. She turned her head around and realized her mouth was agape and her heart was still racing. Miranda clenched her jaw, took a deep breath and pursed her lips trying feverishly to calm down, but with little success. Having lights flash in her saddened, confused and blurry eyes made the shock of it all worsen for with every flash the reality of Andy being gone sunk in more and more.
Why did she leave me? Where is she going? Who the hell does she think she is?
Making sure her eyes wouldn't betray her, she adjusted her glasses and ducked her head slightly until she was inside the event and avoiding as many admirers as was possibly allowed. Not daring to show any emotion besides the fakeness in her smile.
Once inside, she secluded herself in a corner and tried to call Andy's phone, but there was no answer.
Maybe she didn't hear her phone go off…Should I try again? No…I don't want to seem desperate. What the hell am I thinking? She shook her head at the thought of such foolishness.
As she searched for Nigel, she couldn't help from continuing to think about Andy. Why? I thought we were getting along well. I mean, considering. Maybe she…? No. What if she…? No. Damn it, WHY IS SHE DOING THIS TO ME? Confused questions and angry rants ran through her mind as she walked aimlessly to her appointed spot next to the runway. Nigel walked up and stood in Miranda's peripheral vision.
"Hello Miranda. I just saw Andrea walking across the street, but why was she…" Nigel trailed off when he saw the look in Miranda's eyes as she stared off into the distance through her Honey Gucci sunglasses. It was a look of sheer anger and hurt. Though never once did she move a muscle to acknowledge Nigel was there.
He decided to not say anything further, but ordered them both a glass of champagne as a waiter passed by and took his seat next to Miranda.
The show began and realizing that Andrea was nowhere to be found and was probably not coming back, Nigel took out a thick white notepad and started taking notes on the first model. Every now and then, between notes, he would risk a glance over at Miranda. The usually strong woman was now starting to fidget a bit. He dared not say anything in fear of being castrated, but he was starting to become truly concerned about the editor.
Right after the show, Miranda got up straight away and blazed a path to the restroom. If you looked closely, you could probably see the smoke fuming from the floor where her Monolo's had been. She swung open the door with fervor, stood and stared at the other women that were in there adjusting themselves in the mirror. With one infamously fatal look, they all scattered out leaving Miranda alone. Indeed, she was very alone.
Miranda walked over to the counter and sat her purse down. Digging through it in search of her BlackBerry, she found a box she had all but forgotten about. She opened it up and revealed the extravagant white gold tennis bracelet Andy had given her for her birthday a few months ago. This almost choked Miranda up, had she not remembered about having to call Emily. It was at least one thing she could feel control over; the one comfort she still had: reassurance from the power she held. She placed the box back into her purse and finally reached her phone and dialed her office.
"Miranda Priestly's offi…"
"Emily, I am not going to say this again, but I need you to confirm all of my appointments for the rest of this week. And I want you to pick up my Hermes scarves today, pick up my dry cleaning, take Patricia to the vet to get her shots, call the girls' father and remind him to pick up the twins as soon as they get home from their friends' and take them to his place for the week."
"Yes, Miranda."
"And when Andrea gets back to New York…well, you know what to do about assistants that can't do the job. Remove her things from the desk and immediately start looking for another assistant. One that's more competent and can handle the fast paced lifestyle. Then, um…" This was a word usually not found in Miranda's vocabulary. Very rarely, if ever, does she hesitate or not know what to say when it's Runway related, but as she racked her brain trying to remember what needed to be done, she just couldn't think straight. What has Andrea done to me? Miranda thought as she put her available hand up to her face covering her eyes.
"Yes Miranda. But what's…"
"Emily…That's all." With the last word, her voice quivered. Not enough for Emily to catch, but to Miranda, it was as if she had just set off a bomb. To her, it wasn't just some fault in her speech, but pain from remembering her.
Miranda hit the end button and threw her phone back in her Prada bag. She put her hands on the sink and stared at herself in the mirror.
"Come on Miranda, you can get past this…" She spoke aloud to herself. "…you have to for your own sake and the sake of Runway."
By this time, Miranda had begun shaking uncontrollably from a mixture of conflicting emotions.
Andrea was the only one I opened up to and actually trusted. Well, besides Nigel and my children anyway…but Andrea is different…was different…
At this thought, Miranda became nauseous.
She doubled over and wrapped her arms around her stomach and sat on the nearest couch in the sitting area in the restroom, quietly rocked while hot and cold flashes swept over her like a tidal wave crashing onto the shore. With every breath she took in, reality hit her harder.
She's gone…she's really gone…how could this happen?
Another woman came barging into the restroom and this made Miranda snap her head up as she went from Miranda to "Ice Queen" in 2 seconds flat. The woman looked over and saw Miranda glaring at her from the couch and decided it best to leave the room. Miranda rose up from her seat, retrieved her purse, took a last look at herself in the mirror and left the restroom. Miranda then called Roy to pull up to the front of the building. As she left the restroom, she was once again badgered by more admirers and the paparazzi. She simply smiled at their compliments and their cameras and pushed forward towards her awaiting ride.
She reached her car, opened her door, descended elegantly into her seat, and quickly shut the door to the world. She asked Roy to slide the privacy window closed, to which he meekly smiled, nodded and slowly raised the barrier between them.
To her left, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a small white piece of paper where Andrea had been sitting. Miranda picked it up and read, "Forgive me Miranda" on the note. At the bottom right corner, there was a small print of a red kiss. Miranda returned a tear stained kiss to the print. Using a hand, she wiped away the escaped tear and tried to steal herself once more. She slipped the note in her purse and the back of her hand brushed against the white box still tucked away in her purse. She took it out, opened it and stared at the gorgeous Tiffany bracelet, allowing herself to think of the memory belonging to it.
"Miranda?" Andrea was walking over to me. Can't she see that I'm busy…writing a meaningless email to my ex-husband…What is that in her hand?
"Andrea…" I said in a low but demanding voice.
"I know I know…You hate being reminded of your age…but, I just wanted to give this to you. I won't say 'Happy Birthday', but I will say this…" Andrea laid the simple white box with a glittering gold ribbon upon my desk. "… I hope you have a wonderful day and I wish you nothing but happiness on this day and the rest of your life." Then she turned on her heel and walked out.
I couldn't do anything except sit there and watch her walk back to her desk. She had wished me nothing but happiness when I've made her life nothing but hell…
I looked down at the box and felt both excitement and guilt.
*Miranda opens the box and gasps*
"Dear god it's…" a Tiffany's White Gold Tennis Bracelet! Bloody hell Andrea! How can you afford this on your salary? Even I know your pay isn't that good…
*Andrea chuckles*
Well, just great. She heard me gasp and gush…wonderful. Well, it is very beautiful…just like her.
No.
She'll always be more beautiful. Than anything.
*Miranda closes the box and sets it in her purse. She then looks up and over to Andrea who's typing away on her computer*
"Happy Birthday to me…"
She wiped away the tears that had escaped. She then took the bracelet out of the box and fastened it around her left wrist. Placing her left arm in her lap and resting her right hand on her left, she gently caressed the bracelet with her thumb. The rest of the ride to the hotel was a quiet yet troubling one. Miranda suppressed her emotions as long as she could while thinking of Andy and the time they had spent together at Runway until she could no longer think of her.
Roy pulled up to the hotel and Miranda said over the intercom, "Don't worry about getting the door. I'll get it myself." Roy raised his eyebrows and said "Alright. Have a wonderful night, Miranda". She meekly mumbled "Thank you, Roy. Same to you." Miranda was really acting out of her character tonight. How could Andrea have had such an impact like this? I never thought I would act like this…
She opened up her door and stepped out onto the street in her black pumps. She shut the door and never looked back as she took large strides to the steps and walked into the hotel towards the elevator. As she approached it, bystanders quickly moved out of the way to give Miranda the elevator. This is exactly what she wanted right now: For people to actually respect her and her authority. Which some people lacked, she thought.
The elevator stopped on her floor and she quickly strode to her suite. Feeling the emotions starting to rise again, she quickly closed and locked her door, and made a quick turn to put her back to it. She dropped her bag, let her shawl drop to the floor and slid her perfectly manicured hands to her face.
What am I going to do now? Without Andrea I…
*Thunder clap*
Miranda jolted at the sound and looked up at the window and saw lightning. She wrapped her arms around herself and solemnly walked over to the window where she viewed the vast Paris skyline all lit up in mockingly beautiful lights. It had started to rain since she had reached her room. "What perfect timing…" She said aloud. She sighed and thought to herself Paris will always mean something different to me now and will forever haunt me. She watched the raindrops glide down the window masking the tears caressing the porcelain face of a woman heartbroken.
The little world that abided in Miranda's soul wherein Andrea lived was falling apart and she couldn't do anything but stand and stare out the window. Stare out into oblivion thinking about Andrea…
Miranda had pulled herself away from the window long enough to get changed and there she stood back at the window. "Why the bloody hell do I keep staring out of this window? It's not like I haven't seen this city a million times."
Her British accent always played out when she was frustrated and couldn't figure out an answer. At least nobody was here to hear that…Oh god…I'm alone…
That statement hit hard again. Miranda stalked over to her bed and sat on the edge. Looking down at her hands wringing together, traitorous tears began to fall. Before she could get a grip on those few, she began to sob. The bottle where she had managed to stow away her emotions broke and they all flooded over her. Anger, hatred, sadness, vulnerability, joy, heartache…
It was all too much for the editor…
She flew back onto the bed, curled up into a ball, grabbed the covers and pulled them up to her chin. Still crying, she couldn't control the bodily convulsions the sobs created.
My god I'm having a breakdown…Andrea why do you affect me so?
This thought just sent her into more emotional rant of anger, vulnerability, and heartache.
My god….is this what love feels like? Shit…I just said I loved Andrea…No….no no no NO…I can NOT start talking nonsense now…is it nonsense? Of course it is. You simply don't 'love' your assistants. They're there to make your job easier, and that is exactly what Andrea did. Extreme appreciation is what you're feeling…right...?
Miranda had eventually been able to calm down enough to appreciate the warmth and comfort of the down-feathered bed. She seemed to sink into it as the feeling of it engulfed her.
Andrea…was the last word that graced her lips as the exhausted editor slipped into slumber.