"Flowers, Miranda."
"What flowers? From who?"
Tell her, they hadn't, Miranda pushed her glasses more into her nose bridge, as Emily because of crutches had Serena bring the arrangement to her.
Emily was still insisting she could manage every coffee run, Miranda put her Blahniks down, clearly Emily being struck by a cab, which broke her leg and obviously knocked what if any logic, she had out of her, by the time Emily hobbled down on the lift to cross a block to get her coffee, and got back, Miranda summarise her hot as hades coffee would be tepid, a fed ex courier could send it from Colombia faster.
Miranda had almost forgot herself, and said her name.
She'd caught herself in time.
No, Andrea was gone, abandoned her duties at Runway with not an increment of business etiquette, just walked away from her. Not one word of warning, or giving Miranda any idea she was deciding on terminating her role as her assistant so suddenly, maybe between one rue she could have mentioned this, how she decided in a short span of a car ride with her, to just get out and walk off the job, in the middle of fashion week, her busiest week, just like that, she'd turn and Andrea Sachs just ran away.
Yes, she'd recieved later, the ever so polite letter of resignation, knowing Andrea was in the air flying back and her phone switched off for days. At first Miranda had actually worried, really became worried about her assistant's wellbeing, she actually thought maybe Andrea was ill or had recieved bad news, a death in the family or something, after a week Miranda realized Andrea Sachs was just a large brown eyed commotion causing to her Parisian diary arsehole.
She'd come very close to crucifying Andrea's dream of being a writer, yet maybe it was the seperation, now finalised divorce today from Stephen, Miranda just couldn't.
Andrea was a marginally very switched on assistant to her, and she grew to a tiny bit like, no, shaking that thought away admire but never praise, Andrea's tenacity and able to predict her instantly skill, Miranda was not seven years old, holding grudges.
Andrea deserved to now write for that mediocre newspaper, if that was her dream. She silently helped Andrea achieve that setting sights far to low, job placement.
Miranda only made her goals at Andrea's age, to be the editor of 'Chic' in Paris as her publishing goal and got it at 29.
It was a shame, she could have shaped Andrea's future in publishing with so much more then The NY Daily Mirror.
That was Andrea Sachs choice, she was only once her boss not a mentor, she'd compared them and clearly Andrea didn't agree and see the similarities and drive they shared, Andrea just obviously wasn't wanting to be successful in life like her.
Some people settled to be living a life of mundane like Andrea had, where as Miranda didn't.
Putting all thoughts of that brunette from her mind, Miranda reached for the card, wondering who had sent her flowers on the day of her divorce finalised.
Her fingers stroked the petals as she opened the card and eyes scanned, brightening as she read the scribbled message and took a call, Emily put through.