A/N: As you may know, I don't own DWP :)
Strangeness and Charm
Chapter One: Enter the Dragon
New York traffic itself seemed to sense the mood emanating from the black Mercedes. The cars all moved quickly, almost frantically trying to get out the vehicle's way. Roy, the chauffer, stared straight ahead, determined to make it to his destination in the next two minutes. He forced himself not to glance up when he heard the methodic tapping of manicured nails on a door handle. His passenger was clearly getting impatient, despite having made nearly every light from here to the townhouse. Upon making it to the desired location he pulled up to the curb, mindful not to park near any puddles. He all but flew out the car to round its corner and open the door. He stood at attention and sighed mentally when he received no belittling remarks about his navigational skills.
Miranda stepped out of the Mercedes, adjusted her Louis Vuitton sunglasses and proceeded to glide towards the revolving doors of Elias-Clarke. The lobby was littered with half-starved models, burly businessmen, disheveled writers, eager promoters and nervous investors. All manner of life thrived in this lobby, like a giant petri dish. Said ameba's all caught sight of her and seemed to visibly propel themselves away, as though she had some sort of force field surrounding her. The noise within the lobby dropped several octaves, just enough to hear the clacking her red Jimmy Choos made on the marble floor. Every click struck panic into each of them, reminding them momentarily that she was one to be feared.
She ignored the security guard, who nodded curtly to her, not needing to see a pass. As she approached the elevators two wispy models practically fell over themselves to get out of her way. They muttered a bashful "Morning Miranda" to which they received no reply. The editor entered the elevator, mashed the floor number for Runway and starred ahead as the doors slid closed.
The ping signaling the end of the elevators assent to Runway struck at exactly 8:30 and was just loud enough to alert the entire floor of Miranda's arrival. From an outsider's point of view, one would think they were gearing to receive the pope himself. Racks of clothing were being flung to their proper corners, designers ran around rustling papers and muttering prayers, assistants typed away nervously trying to look competent and visiting models did their best to seem effortless. Anyone who was not having a nervous breakdown was either going to or had already collapsed. Everyone wanted to do their best, to both gain recognition and refrain from becoming target practice for their boss's soul shattering criticism.
Miranda ripped her glasses from her face and nearly knocked Emily over as she made her way towards her office. The scowl she held could turn anyone to stone. Her ice blue eyes narrowed and darted from left to right, looking for any sign of imperfection to release her fury upon. Every back visibly straightened as she passed, and no one dared meet her gaze. Nigel approached, intent on discussing something, took one look at Miranda's face and neatly headed in the opposite direction.
She entered her office area and was greeted by Andy who was just throwing away the empty Starbucks holder. Andy smiled and was about to give her usual greeting when Emily (who was scampering behind Miranda) shot her an irritated look as if to say 'Don't even bother trying.' Miranda tore her coat from her body and flung it along with her purse in Andy's general direction. She caught them both but nearly stumbled from the force.
Once Miranda was in her office she began to fire off a list of "impossible tasks" for both Emily and Andy to have done this morning. Andy hurried into the room just as she began.
"I need Lagerfeld confirmed for the winter spread, if Opal answers tell them I want Lana. That girl is such an idiot. I want jackets for the shoot tomorrow, not those horrid monstrosities from last week. Have Marie set up the accessories that were decided upon. And relate to her that if I see one more carnelian piece come from her department she can pack her things today. Confirm lunch with Donatella at that French café. Cancel my 10:30 meeting and reschedule for next week, that should give that incompetent fool time to redo those ghastly designs. Move my 11:15 up to that time slot, and make sure there is plenty of space. Last time" and at this she gave Emily a withering look "someone decided we could make do with a room that wasn't even fit for Patricia. Contact Cara and have her retrieve the girls from school, they let out early today. Call my lawyers and set up a time to meet tomorrow, preferably before lunch. Contact Iman about the spread for next month. And tell Raoul no, I don't agree with the direction the collection is taking and if he wants to make it into the next issue I strongly suggest he rethink the entire thing or perhaps look into a brain transplant."
The list continued much in this fashion for nearly ten minutes. It was a wonder if the woman had bothered to take a breath through it all. With every new task Emily looked closer and closer to a panic attack. They were both finishing their scribbles when Miranda paused. They looked up and found she had begun typing furiously onto her laptop, no doubt some scathing email to a poor designer. "I don't understand why I have to deal with such moronic fools…" she trailed off, and not looking from her laptop she practically hissed "That's all."
Emily visibly stumbled back into the waiting area and sat shakily at her desk, preparing to make calls and mumbling that all familiar mantra "I love my job. I love my job." For someone who loved her job so much, she looked very close to jumping out the nearest window. She began blinking rapidly, whether that was due to the alarming amount of eye shadow she donned or her impending tears, was unclear.
Andy made it to her own desk and hurriedly turned on her computer. Today was clearly going to be a double shot after hour's kind of day. As the machine booted she looked towards Miranda apprehensively. The woman was now pacing her office, prowling around like a caged lion. She was muttering something eligible into her phone, gesticulating absent mindedly towards the New York scene outside. Her body radiated frustration: the fine lines her makeup strove to smooth appeared faintly in the natural light, her lips were pursed into the firmest of lines, and her forelock fell loosely over her face shaking with every move of her head. She had taken off her suit jacket to reveal the figure fitting blouse underneath, clearly finding it uncomfortable.
Andy sighed and typed in her password. She snuck one more look at her boss before looking at the schedule she had set up. Miranda was abnormally beautiful today. Well, she looked great every day, but today… Andy didn't know. Maybe it was the way her cheeks flushed angrily, how her hair fell defiantly against her forehead or even the wrinkle of disgust that threatened to appear on her well-structured face. Andy could think of a hundred things she found beautiful about Miran-
A much exaggerated clearing of the throat could be heard from across the room, interrupting Andy's thoughts. She snapped her head up and sure enough Emily was giving her the best snarl she could manage given her shaken appearance.
"Is there some reason you haven't left yet? Are you finally too fat to lift yourself up?" she snorted and proceeded to punch another number into the phone. Andy rolled her eyes. She was not going to feed into Emily's mood today. The last thing she needed was an angry Miranda and a peevish Emily. That was sure to be a recipe for disaster. She finished the adjustments to the schedule and sent it off. As she did she noticed a new email in her folder. She was tempted to ignore it for later but went ahead a clicked on it.
Upon reading it she stifled a gasp.
It was from Miranda.
'I'm attending a gala tonight, be ready to leave by 8. Let Emily handle the book.'
That was all it said. No explanation as to why she had to attend or anything. Things like this; charity balls and benefits for groups with nothing to do with Elias-Clarke usually fell under "solo trip". But for some reason Miranda wanted Andy to come along. Perhaps something important was going to happen and she needed a note taker? Or maybe she simply wanted to make sure she had a backup in case she forgot a name? By now Andy had become pretty good at naming faces of celebrities and the New York elite. Even so, this was still weird. Would not people find it strange that Miranda Priestly was lugging her assistant to such an exclusive gathering of the rich and famous?
Andy began to ask her why in response, but thought better of it. When did Miranda ever explain her intentions up front? She'd find out as it happened, as usual. So she sent a simple "Yes Miranda." And deleted it. Just in case Emily decided to put her snooping skills to use. She stood up and went to grab her coat casting a sidelong look at Emily who was busy verbally sidestepping Opal for Lana. She shook her head and wondered what Emily would think of her going to an unplanned event with Miranda. She quickly abandoned the thought, grimacing at the idea of Emily having some sort of convulsive seizure in response.
She trotted out of the office, bracing herself for the amount of tasks she had to accomplish before the evening. Just as she made it within sights of the elevators she ran into Nigel who was heading towards Miranda's office. Apparently he'd built up his courage enough to try again.
"In a hurry six?" he asked, critically eyeing her disheveled jacket. Andy noticed and quickly made to fix it, fidgeting visibly.
"That bad huh?" Nigel said eyeing Mirada's office over the rim of his glasses.
Andy failed to mention her nervousness was due to a certain invitation and decided to go along with the obvious. "You have no idea Nigel. Geez I don't know what she's mad about but God help the person who caused it."
Nigel bit his lip "Honey please, whoever caused this has likely been put out of his misery already. We're the ones in need of mercy." He shot another apprehensive look towards the office and sighed. "I better get it over with. Marie just gave me the photos of the pieces she chose."
"Oh not carnelian I hope."
"Ugh yes, I don't know who she thinks would want to wear- wait how did you…?"
Andy winced "Miranda mentioned not wanting to see it. You may wanna hold off on that. Maybe get Marie to switch it out with something else. Anything else."
Nigel rolled his eyes and placed a hand on his hip. "Oh great, that'll be fun. Now I get to navigate my way through yet another bitch-fit. If she gets in my face again I'll show her she's not the only one who has claws." He muttered as he began to walk away. Andy pressed the down button for the elevator. Just as it opened she remembered something and shouted after Nigel.
"Can I borrow something later?" he waved his hand without turning around giving the okay but clearly to preoccupied to ask why. With that Andy entered the elevator and began the decent to the lobby and the rest of her day.
