Andy noticed it slide up to her along the sidewalk, it was following her.
Stuffing her hands in her leather jacket it was something she'd kept from Paris as she strolled making her way home here on Broome.
An ivory hand tapped the tinted window open, a flawless white head popped out.
Andrea was either ignoring her or in her own little world.
Continuing to walk one foot in front of the other as Miranda's wisp of white hair caught her attention in a store window's reflection, seeing in the glass with one raised finger curling to come over to her Mercedes car window.
Now.
Andy did so.
Slowly she mustered the courage to say what had been tossing around in her head since Paris last week and hearing about Miranda's reference.
"Miranda, what do you want from me?"
Miranda's eyes were obscured by her signature shades, sitting still alongside her. Just studying her silently like Andy was a piece of Dior or a collection from Milan or a dress hanging and presented for the run-through in front of her.
By the time Andy felt like a decade or more had passed with Miranda just watching her so intensely, Miranda finally spoke, waspishly asking the chirpy brunette by her side, "What do you mean, Andrea?"
Honestly Andy didn't know what it was between them.
This thing.
This thing that Nate made her very aware of, with his words about her being only fully invested in that relationship, with Miranda's call.
Sure most of the fashion world wanted Miranda.
Miranda was yes, very attractive, no she was exquisitely beautiful with her white hair styled like that right now and those lips and her crystal blue eyes, and when she didn't sneer or say vicious things to just about everybody in her general vicinity, she was the most beautiful woman, Andy had ever laid eyes on and she was in a very out of most New Yorkers league.
That meant for Andy, she didn't stand a chance with her.
Not that she did.
If comparing Miranda to baseball, she was the major leagues and Andy was stickball.
Miranda had been married.
To two men.
Both arrogant self-entitled jerks, in Andy's opinion this was formed from their many calls Andy took, regarding the many missed school events and Greg's whining about changing his weekend times with the twins.
Stephen and Gregory had to be reminded via text from Andy about all of the twins' recitals and even the date of their birthday.
Miranda pressed her lips together at Andrea's silence.
"I . . . I just meant what is it do you need from me? I don't work for you, so," Miranda had Emily for all of her needs 24/7.
Miranda only stared at her.
"Andrea, I simply wanted to see how you were doing now with being so suddenly from unemployed to now with a new job at The Mirror."
Trust Miranda to make the way she said unemployed and The Mirror sound like Andy had a STDS or was lining up for food stamps.
"Miranda, just, o-o—k, just stop, please, can you just not be you for a sec," Andy saw her words made Miranda shoulders straighten.
"I waved earlier to you, you probably didn't see me." Andy babbled on. Miranda had this aura to make her do so.
"You were on the phone." Andy gave that excuse for her. "You looked-look really good today." Oh god, this was coming out all wrong.
Miranda still wore her sunglasses concealing her face from her.
"Oh. You waved at me? When?" Her Chanel rouged mouth tilted upwards in the corners.
Oh, Andy knew she had seen her, there was no way she hadn't, and she'd been looking right at her. Across the street from her.
Unbelievable Priestly asking her When, was Miranda enjoying this? When? Seriously? Only earlier this afternoon, Andy gave a dirty look at Miranda's signature La Priestly detachment.
"I saw you Andrea." Miranda shared. Thankful Andrea had stopped babbling on.
She knew it, she did see her.
"Is The Mirror what you desire?"
Swallowing at the way Miranda's lovely shaped mouth quirked up saying that word, only to form into a lip curl.
Desire.
Andy desired her.
Clearing her head of all of her lustful Miranda thoughts. Her voice chirped. "I wouldn't say desire, I think I'll like it there. It's a good fit for me. I always wanted to write for a newspaper. Ever since I was in junior high. It's not anything like Runway but I learn fast and I'm," trailing off.
She'd said that once before, the first time she met her.
Miranda blinked behind her glasses at Andrea. How dare she rub it in, how much she'd like it and fit in, did she really in all honestly like it more than at her Runway?
Hurt by the brunette.
Again.
She knew how Andrea hated her.
Finding fashion and clearly her shallow, and also snort-able with Andrea behaving so obtusely about a blue suede belt at that run-through.
Hadn't Andrea seen the vast differences in both?
"I see how you've managed to easily fit into being such a casual reporter. In your wardrobe." Her shaded blue eyes narrowed and were sweeping the length of Andrea in denim and raking to linger back up on her fitted leather jacket.
"I start on Monday." Andy shared this, feeling dumb, of that, Miranda was an expert at making her feel that way.
Usually every day working at Runway.
"Listen," Andy stuffed her hands in her pockets, "Thank you. Miranda and I am sorry for how I left you, I'm not proud of how I ended us,"
"Don't." Miranda said this softly. "Talk to me about there."
Andy knew that tone. It was tread carefully around her dragon lady.
It was almost exactly like the time, Andy almost brushed against her, when Miranda was in a one of a kind silk coat that did not react well to perspiration least of all a drop from Andy's damp panting face who'd been perspiring from her second day on the job from being assigned by such a joy to work alongside Emily the task of morning coffee fetching which was a cruel enforced jog to Starbucks in a less than ten minutes time limit.
Miranda had looked at Andy like the ceiling was caving in.
Andy had missed her with her sweat by a whisker.
Miranda griped it was rare silk. Emily had just looked at Andy like she'd almost squirted ketchup at Miranda and Andy thought it vaguely reminded her of the creepy straightening the towels in 'Sleeping with the Enemy.'
Really anal.
With a let out sigh, why was doing this to herself, she just started walking along the sidewalk away from Miranda.
"Andrea. You do not walk away from me again!"
This made Andy just avoid a parking meter as the Mercedes came to a stop right near her, the Mercedes lingered.
"Fine. I'm not walking away. Happy?" Crossing her arms around herself.
"Overjoyed. Tell me what is so terrific about this new job of yours?"
Miranda had just asked her a question. Twice now, Andy snuck a glance upwards, looking up at the city sky. The apocalypse had not started.
Yet.
"Well, I umm, think it will be rewarding to start writing about things in the city . . . it's a great job, It will give me back free time again, unlike my last one." Andy was sure Miranda's eyes behind those shades, could freeze her at say, rival Omyakon minus 51 C.
The La Priestly freeze was far colder to Andy.
"I'll even have weekends off now, so I can sleep in, and turn my phone off and I can even go out now on dates."
Andy could see Miranda's lips thinning at this news.
"Splendid, may you have many, many dates with the fry cook." Miranda almost snarled this.
Fry cook?
Andy looked puzzled as she shook her dark head at Miranda. "Fry cook?" Wait, Miranda knew about Nate being a chef. Dawning on Andy, she meant her ex. "Do you mean Nate?
Miranda sniffed, yes she meant him.
What, did Andrea date many kitchen workers?
"Miranda. No, Nate and I, we're not together. We're done. He's in Boston."
Oh.
Miranda inclined her head of signature white waves to Andrea in a tilt. It reminded Andy distinctly of a snake ready to strike.
Earnest brown eyes saw Miranda's red reptile clutch was in her lap.
Miranda did favor her fellow cold blooded species and furs.
"I'm not with anyone." Andy shared this with her.
Miranda traced the sill with her pale fingers. "Tell me more about this new job of yours."
Andy could hear it in her silky tone. It was like Miranda had yelled at her.
Andy knew this well, Miranda never yelled. Knowing Miranda so well, she was seething with her body language and thinning lips and if only Andy could see her eyes.
Then she'd be able to navigate her. Plowing on, deciding to just try to be civil for the both of them. "I like it. It's different to Runway."
"Oh, how so?" Her brows arching up to her white hairline usually could only mean verbal laceration was incoming.
"Loads of ways. I have a desk, I can sit at, and I'll do that often and I can tell you now I will enjoy sitting at it. I get an hour for lunch. I don't run around in any painful heels in this city on errands for coffee and skirts."
"My contrite apologies, did we not provide an adequate desk along with a chair to you, Andrea, for you to sit at or a lunch Monday to Friday?" Her voice was brittle.
"Yeah. Of course you did Miranda." Andy tried.
Cut off by La Priestly.
"I seem to recall you frequented our cafeteria often enough." Andy gave her a I can't believe you can be such a bitch Miranda look, Andy could see, even with those sunglasses on, and hiding her eyes, Miranda was savagely enjoying this, yes, especially.
So stab her with a Jimmy Choo stiletto, she liked food.
Lunch at the cafeteria. It was part of the not many benefits of being an assistant to Miranda.
Allowed less than fifteen minutes for lunch.
HR just never informed (warned) her, that any lunch you had was burned off running around the whole damn city on one of Miranda's countless errands.
And she was not fat.
"Listen Miranda, I do mean this to you, I'm sorry about Paris." There Andy got that off her chest.
Holding up a palm. "No. We are not discussing Paris." Andy instantly knew that bringing up Paris again was a big hell of a no no with Miranda.
Feeling like banging her head against say this parking meter with this woman.
Through gritted teeth. "Look, Miranda what do you want from me?"
Miranda's mouth spread to her pearly teeth, baring them, her eyes were still covered. "What do I want from Andrea?" She slid those words around her tongue viciously.
Andy could see she was enjoying this, torturing her on a public sidewalk in her Fendi designer sunglasses, that Andy couldn't see her damn pretty eyes to gage her.
And Miranda had, and Andy wished she didn't have such pretty eyes.
Yet she did.
Damn, Miranda and her pretty eyes.
They had this power over Andy to get lost in them.
"After Paris, I did often fantasize how you'd come groveling to me for your job back." Miranda smirked. "I also considered putting a Sisyphus obstacle in your writing aspirations. Andrea."
Miranda continued on. "Just the East and West Coast, The Midwest I'd leave for you to find some small Gazette to write for. Like in Nebraska."
Andy swallowed. She knew Miranda could do that with ease.
Yet she hadn't.
Not yet.
"I know now, you'd never come back to Runway, begging me for your job back." Miranda listed that on her hand. "You could never be remonstrance to me if you were forced to."
Hey . . . That was completely unfair.
Andy could be sorry. She was very sorry for Paris and how that turned out for them.
"I considered giving you a bad reference, but I couldn't." Miranda confessed.
Andy looked puzzled at this.
"After what you did in Paris to me, I wanted you to suffer, like at some late night shift at McDonalds for next ten years, typing up only orders but I decided against it, I am not petty."
Just hurt. Miranda didn't share this.
"I also decided, I would make you return all the clothes and shoes you were given. Including the Parisian ones. They were Runway's. Just, so you're aware, Emily is looking after them wonderfully."
Staring at her, Miranda knew about that?
"They suit her better."
Miranda was leaning her chin on her palm which was propped up by her elbow. Mocking her.
Andy exhaled through her nose which made Miranda's pink mouth twitch up.
Andy now just got in her face. "Great for her. Miranda just stop being like this, for what it's worth. Thank you!"
Taking her fingers and lacing them with hers.
Feeling Miranda tense.
Andy completely forgot, the don't touch Miranda rule.
"Truly thank you. I'm grateful for what you did for me, because you helped get me this job, it's mainly all because of your reference that really I got it! So thanks for that and you don't really have to see me ever again."
Miranda's perfume was doing funny things to her brain now, her lips inches from hers, Andy had missed that scent a lot, as it filled her nostrils.
Getting control of herself, if she didn't she'd . . . Andy only just managed to jam her hands into the pockets of her jeans before they did something foolish, like grab her and never release her and kiss her like nobody's business.
Miranda's scent was still lingering.
God she was going have to go buy it and spray it on her pillows now.
She was simply pathetic getting aroused by Miranda's perfume.
"That is true. I do not have to see you ever again. Andrea." Sliding her sunglasses down her nose, revealing her piercing eyes.
Staring at Andrea in that creepy way, Andy both learned to enjoy and fear.
"For any professional reason." Miranda's eyes were unreadable holding Andy's.
"You are someone, I wouldn't normally ever see again aren't you Andrea?"
Andy mouth went dry as Miranda without warning, gently let go of her fingers and placed her ivory manicured finger under Andy's chin.
"Andrea. As my assistant, you were the most badly dressed person I've ever met, you had no clue with how to take my calls for the first week, you were and still are absolutely totally ignorant about fashion and you ask me, too many questions, I should've fired you over asking Stefano how to spell Gabbana,"
Andy stared, Miranda had heard that.
"Yet I didn't, not for that ignorance of fashion, I should've let you go, on the night you went upstairs when Emily clearly told you where to put The Book."
Andy held her eyes guiltily.
"Really, Andrea was your little silly crush on me, that bad to decide to sneak around my personal living space that night?"
"Hey lady, your kids told me too. They said that Emily took the damn tome upstairs and did it all the time!" Andy declared this, her face now flushed.
Anything about Miranda's daughters, were off limits.
"Did they? And you, poor set upon college graduate was duped by two eleven year olds, and I'm sure that you think of them as a pair of spoiled indulged brats, don't you Andrea?"
Andy was still gripping the sill of Miranda's car window.
"Yeah, I do."
Miranda gave a sneer at her. The kind that could turn a person to dust. Nobody ever criticized her Bobbseys. Cara was fired for saying 'no' to them. Stephen tried to once suggest, summer camp that going to that would bring them out of their shells.
Miranda was livid. Stephen accused her of being overly protective.
They were shy and they did not need to come out of their shells.
Cassidy and Caroline were in so many ways just like her, sensitive and enjoyed creating things like with their music and both of her beautiful miracles were just taking up painting lessons this week.
A family therapist had suggested this. That and he'd dared to suggest to her to try to be home more.
Starting with dinners together and try do things together to be more of a family.
Holding Andrea's gaze, with having the nerve to think and agree out loud that her Bobbseys, were spoiled and brats.
"Miranda despite being that, I actually find them to be likable, a lot like their mother."
Miranda's nostrils flared. Waspishly asking her last assistant. "How so?"
"Well, Cassidy's got this amazing smile like the one you get when you really like a Marc Jacobs spring collection and Caroline, well she's more guarded and careful just like you and she corrects me when I say 'stuff' which is cute and she's really very sweet when she slowly warms up to you. I'm very fond of them."
Her eyes sparkled. Meaning Miranda too, she was more than fond of.
Andrea had often talked to them? When did this occur? How many times did it happen? Why didn't Cassidy or Caroline say anything?
"Wait, Andrea, I never told you, that you were allowed to talk to them."
"Oh. Well I did talk to them most nights delivering The Book, they kinda started it," Andy not thinking just brushed her hand into hers as she assured her. "Their great girls Miranda. They were so worried about you after the fight with him."
The fight? That made Miranda's eyes flash, Andrea was implying her children had witnessed spousal rows. And frequently.
Did she scar them with that? God, he was right, she was horrible mother, wasn't she?
"Your kids, hate him." Andy stated.
"They hate, Stephen?"
Andy nodded sincerely at her.
Miranda mused. Did he do something to them? "They told you that."
"He hurt them." Andy shared.
How has he hurt them? If Stephen laid one finger on her babies.
Her size couldn't take him on. But she'd slander and deride him and rip his soul out through his testicles with her best weapon. Her words.
Starting with words of his losing an erection to Page Six.
"Yeah. He hurt them. Lots. He's really good at that. To them and to you! He never shows up to their recitals and the girls really hate how he is with you."
Miranda could only just stare, her mask was slipping. "With me?"
"Caroline said he's awful to you and Cassidy told me about him being at you all weekend after that night when I screwed up with the Book."
Miranda winced.
Stephen had been impossible, he'd wanted her to make it up to him. With of course, sex.
She did not ever have sex with her Bobbseys in the townhouse.
Her face tinged pink at Andrea near her, clasping her hand, the warm fingers laced in hers and thinking of sex.
Grinning at the memory of both freckled redheads with fierce blue eyes on fire, protective of their Mommy Dragon, Andy's eyes sparkled bright, not even noticing Miranda's discomfort at her close. Smiling at what one of the redheads threatened. "Cassidy kept swearing to lob him one with her new skis."
Cassidy had told Andy it was the only good use for them, since on her last ski trip to Aspen, her attempting skis had proved she just sucked at it. Like Mom did.
Andy's laugh sobered up at Miranda's acerbic look.
"Andrea I do not care for you encouraging any use of violence to my progeny. Even with skiing equipment."
"Miranda, I didn't tell Cassi to do it! She was being protective about you. Hell, I think it's kinda sweet. I'd do the same, if I owned skis."
Miranda placed her fingers off Andrea's skin.
"Sweet?"
"Yes. Sweet." Andy said so, forming a smile at her.
"Andrea were you frequently in the rude habit of ingratiating yourself on my children, who do not ever engage with my staff."
Miranda continued on, clearly alarmed that Andy who was from Ohio had often been talking to her kids.
"Your familiarity to my daughters is something I would've immediately reprimanded you about, Andrea you were just an assistant. Staff. Hired help. You. You're an ex-assistant now, whom I normally would find no reason to ever see again professionally."
Andy's eyes shattered and her heart sank a bit, okay a lot. Part of her really missed Miranda and now being told there was no reason to see her again, ever, that hurt.
A lot.
Hoping a little for more, like being in Miranda's life, somehow, even just a little was a crazy fantasy of hers, a long shot of impossibility but still Andy had hoped.
Just a little.
She knew she was crazy. Wanting Miranda still.
Not right this second, she was really wanting to strangle her white haired ex, ex-boss.
Shit. She'd broken up with Nate for feeling this way about her. She was such an idiot over her.
Knowing now, she meant absolutely zilch to Miranda Priestly.
Why even would she? She said it, Andy was only just hired help. Not anything else to Miranda.
"I guess there's no reason to see me after now, is there Miranda?" Andy hoped her face didn't show a hint of how hurt she was now.
"So, I'll just," Her arm was yanked back.
"What if I do want to see you again, Andréa?"
Andy's eyes flicked up to meet hers. See her again? Wait, Miranda had to be toying with her? Screwing with her mind in only a way that a Priestly can achieve.
"What does that mean to you? Tell me." Still holding Andy's bicep in her hand.
"It means," Andy was at a lost to what to say back. Their battle of wills was so exhausting. Pressing her lips together. Steadying herself.
Miranda wanted to know what it would mean to her, seeing her again like this. She just said she wanted to see her again.
Didn't, couldn't Miranda see, it meant everything to her? Almost about to say this, Andy stopped herself, from doing so and in turn making a complete fool of herself.
Recalling Miranda words, she knew about her crush.
Miranda had noticed, and had just spoke derogatorily about her silly little crush. Presuming that her silly crush had led her upstairs.
Knowing Miranda, and once being for months near her, Miranda was probably indeed toying with her about liking her. Playing some cruel get even for Paris game with her.
"Why are you doing this to me?" Andy asked this lowly.
"Doing what?" Miranda asked this, innocently.
Andy wanted to yell out, allowing me to be near you again, talking to me like this on a busy street in your chauffeured Mercedes, saying stuff like wanting to see me again?
Getting her arm free.
"Stop. Miranda, if this is a game, I'm not playing it with you, do you know what you're like, first you're so difficult and hypercritical and my Mom thinks you're the Antichrist. You're really hard to please and stubborn and I'm me, just Andy from Ohio and yeah we'd honestly never encounter each other in the same places, before I began working for you,"
Cut off by Miranda who looked away from her.
Andrea's mother said that. Regaining her icy tone. "Yes that is true, Andrea. We'd hardly frequent the same social circles or partake in any similar cultural excursions do we,"
Miranda also never wore denim.
Andrea did.
Seeing it on her face, in her eyes, Miranda was making fun of her. Andy could see that.
Her brows came together at that gleam in Miranda's blue eyes. "I'm not your lowly assistant anymore. Miranda?"
"Yes of that, I've noted." Miranda's piercing eyes held hers.
Searching hers for something that now made Andy freeze in the autumn air.
Running a pattern with her fingers on Andy's leathered arm. "I suppose without you ever being my once assistant for such a short time we had together, we'd never have encountered one another for any reason at all,"
Andy gritted her teeth. "Short time Miranda? I worked for you for almost a year."
"Yes you did almost last a year, such a shame I didn't know then, at how you had such a talent for absconding away in a foreign city and partaking in javelining a company phone into a fountain on one of my busiest days of my career." Miranda held her eyes in hers, coldly.
Musing on more softly now. "No. We would never have even met. Andrea. It is quite comical to imagine if we had met, myself not as your boss and you, not as my lowly assistant." Her grey blue eyes weighing her, narrowing on Andy only staring with her mouth open at her.
"I guess."
"No guessing, that is a fact. Andrea. We wouldn't ever be anything to one another, if not for myself deciding to take a crazy chance on hiring you. And then you repaid me and just ran away." Miranda accused, her eyes glassy.
Silently wanting to say. "From me." If she said that it would wobble out of her.
That was Andy's cue. Turning away, she'd just rush off and down to the subway quick.
Take it to Brooklyn or a few stops out of her way. Who cares if she was almost five minutes from home?
"So, uh . . . as I said thanks, Mira," Andy voice trembled as she made to walk away. "Really, thank you for the reference you gave me. Just know, it really meant a lot to me. Just hired help. One of your staff. I've gotta just . . . I— I have to go."
Feeling despondent and wanting to just kick herself for it. At least she could have Miranda tonight be more agreeable in her dreams. After her out of her way subway stop to Bushwick.
Maybe she could dream up, her Miranda in fantasy to stop being such a bitch around her and just kiss her.
"Wait."
Andy turned back to her last boss.
"Don't go away from me again, Andy please don't." She'd got out of the car.
Taking in Miranda's look, Andy knew them all but she had never seen this one before. Andy just stared. Miranda's eyes weren't cold.
"Just don't run again, Andrea could you please make this a little easy for me, won't you?"
Andy was still rooted to the sidewalk.
"I really don't know if this is anything," Miranda spoke very softly but Andy still heard her. "I have no idea if you feel the same way for me,"
Miranda's eyes lowered. " I don't even know if you even might ever feel the same way as I do and you must see Andrea that I do have feelings for you—"
Miranda had feelings for her. Andy covertly pinched herself.
Good, this wasn't a dream.
"I know you've every reason to hate me. You've never seen any of my good sides, have you?" Miranda plowed on.
Andy agreed with that. Sure, Miranda had them, just deeply welled.
"You're young. I'm old. I've been your boss, only last Friday. I've demanded many things from you to do for me but I'd like to ask you to possibly go out on a date with me," Miranda looked up at her. "If it is, that you would want to go out with me, will you Andrea?"
A date with Miranda, Andy could only just gape like a cartoon character struck by a frying pan.
Miranda looked at her uncertain. "Andrea, do you want to go out with me, sometime this week?" Met with Andy still being shell-shocked mute and resembling something struck dazed.
"Is Friday good for you Andrea?"
"No." Andy muttered this.
"Alright. Tell me a day you'd like to see me."
Every day Andy almost said that out loud to her.
"Andre—Andy will you please say something back, do you want to date me or am I just making a fool out of," Miranda looked worried now and stepped back. "I think I've just made a very stupid mistake, telling you how I feel,"
A beautiful smile tugged at the corner of Andy's mouth, cutting off Miranda's insecure stammering, she pressed a finger to her unsure Chanel lips.
"Tonight. For nine. At that place I like on Park, with the lobster truffle mac and cheese. You're buying, Priestly."
Andy's fingers were on the small of her back.
Giddy with her boldness, Andy saw Miranda blink and she leaned her face closer to hers. "You know, I have a name Andrea."
"One date at a time, Ms. Priestly. I have to make sure, I like, no, I love you still. Miranda." Andy softly said her name out, placing her hand on Miranda's waist. It was just meant to be there. It fit to her.
Brushing her fingers across Miranda's face.
Feeling Andrea brush her waist, and also her face, Miranda liked that. Half listening to her brunette. Wait, she'd heard Andrea say it. Love her? Still love her? Miranda could only swallow at those words said to her.
Now she was unlike herself, just frozen at what Andy had just said to her. Andrea loved her? Really? Her? After everything she'd said, and done to her.
"Oh, really?" Miranda's arched brow raised, trying and failing to look her usual Priestly composed look at her.
Andy just thought it was adorable.
Grinning down at her warmly, Andy whispered breathily into her ear, "Really."
Pulling herself away which only made Miranda make a noise of her discontent at that.
Letting go of her waist. Where was Andrea going now?
"Now, I have to go." Andy was stepping back from her, Miranda pouted at the little bit of distance they now had between them.
"Right now?"
"Yes, I've got to get ready for this great date I have tonight."
Making Miranda smile at her. "I've gotta get her flowers and figure out what to wear." Andy had a great outfit in mind, she'd kept from giving back to Emily.
"Andrea, this date doesn't need flowers, or you getting panicky about dressing for me. Wear those if you want."
Miranda quite liked how they fit Andrea like that.
"Miranda, I'm . . . I'm in denim."
"Yes. You so you are." Nodding bemused at the truly dazed look from Andy.
Andy was adamant. "No jeans for this date, I have to look really good for her. See this date she's really sexy and I'm hoping I get to see more of this side of her right in front of me."
Miranda moved closer, "Oh not her sexy side too?" She was flirting with her, fingering the front of her leather jacket.
"Oh you've shown me that side many times, Miranda."
Miranda looked perplexed at this. When had she ever done that?
Miranda knew she was practically the Antichrist to Andrea at work as Andy's mother had proclaimed her. Demanding coffee and a not yet published Harry Potter manuscript was not at her most sensuous.
"Miranda don't you know how sexy you are, even when playing with those glasses of yours?"
Miranda feigned her face into impassiveness to about her glasses. That was a nervous habit of hers. "No. I don't. Please do tell me more Andrea, about this apparent new to me sexiness I have over you?"
Andy realized Miranda's eyes were actually teasing her. "You. Why don't I just, tell you what I desire?"
"You never did tell me, Andy. What you desire?" Miranda's eyes sparkled, saying waspishly out, near her lips. "Andy ne me dire la liste de votre désir."
She'd finally said it. She'd called her, Andy, which made Andy just wrap her arms around her.
"What do I desire? You speaking french frequently to me is now a new one," Andy shared. " A new laptop would be nice, a 4 day beach vacation would be great, a 65' Shelby Cobra,"— that earned an light elbow in her ribs, "not a new bigger couch, we can fit in, I desire you in that dress that Elie Saab was making just for you last week. You then taking it off slowly for me."
Making Miranda hold her eyes. "Another desire of mine, keeping you close to me for one weekend, with no phones on,"
"Oh, and tell me, what would we be doing Andy with you keeping me close to you with no phones on all weekend?" Miranda asked, her face was softening into a real smile that made Andy almost fall in love with her more.
"Staying in, we can be all dressed down, with a box of wine— fine, not boxed. I'll call that spot we like to get takeout from,"
"We don't have a spot we like takeout from." Miranda looked at her as Andy held her.
"No. Not yet, we will."
"We will?" Miranda traced her jaw, brushing her fingers along it.
"That and you'll be a left side of the bed. I'm a right, I sleep tethering on the edge."
"I'm a middle." Miranda informed. Flushing, they hadn't even had a date yet and here she was just sharing out how she slept in her bed. "You didn't finish telling me what you desire."
"You."
"Me?" Miranda asked.
"Yes just you, you're what I desire and will for the next twentysomething million years Miranda."
Andy went to say something more to make Miranda face color, but Miranda just gently slid her hand to behind her neck and stroked her lovely brunette's face with her grazing pale fingertips and brought her to her in a kiss that made Andy just meet her lips and melt into her dragon lady standing here with her on a sidewalk on Broome.
Forget the place on Park with the lobster, mac cheese with shaved truffles when Andy had Miranda kissing her back tonight at 6:05pm.
She was her only desire, giving Mir a frown with her pulling away from her lips, trying to press her lips to hers, palms flattened on her leather jacket.
"Wait, Andy, I think you should hear all about my list of desires."
Miranda's face was now in her neck, feeling her holding her. Squeezed, "I am a good listener, Miranda. Do tell me?"
Miranda's mouth was on her neck, "I think I'd prefer you helping in visualizing each one with me."
Miranda reminded herself later she would tell Emily to call and hurry Elie Saab along with her dress and have it couriered via Air France ticketed seat so she could wear it for Andy by this weekend.