I am still working on TAKE CARE, But I've hit a bit of a road block, but this story seemed to fall out of my hands and into yours, so here we are… There will be a link to the outfit I am talking about either at the top or bottom of each chapter! (: Enjoy!
Just kidding! They won't let me put links in the chapters- So they'll be in my bio!
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She knew it was daring, wearing something other than a ballgown to a Runway gala, but she hadn't found a gown, and she had been dying to wear this dress. Andrea had found a true Chanel little black dress, all on her own, in some boutique in Tribeca, it was gorgeous, and she was in love. It had a high neckline, with a white collar, and long sleeves. The bodice clung to her like a second skin, showing off her size 6 curves, the skirt had two parts, the top a silver like gossamer fabric over a tight black sheath, she knew it would move deliciously if she was asked to dance. She curled her hair, letting it fall loosely around her face, her bangs gracing her forehead in fringes. Andrea had begged Nigel for a week to let her borrow a pair of blood red, 6 inch, Prada heels from the closet, the only thing she was missing was jewelry, but then Nigel had informed her if she wore anything other than pearls, she was honestly an idiot. So she chose a pair of small pearl earrings that had belonged to her grandmother and duel layer pearl braclette, which was a present from her mother when she had graduated from high school.
Smearing a dark red lipstick against her pouty lips she smiled into the mirror, she was ready.
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"What the bloody hell are you wearing?!"Emily shreeked feast urging wildly at Andrea's attire. The red-head was dressed in a white lace Valentino, which flowed to her feet which were encased in a pair of navy Loubitons.
"Chanel." Was Andrea's reply, she gave her best 'Miranda glare' Impression. She did a small twirl to show off the movement of her dress.
Nigel decided to show up just in that moment to let out a low whistle. "Well, well, well, six. Haven't you just pushed right out of that envelope?"
Andy chuckled, "I couldn't find a gown. And this dress is not exactly office material. So, obviously, I chose the gala. Not that big of a leap really."
"Are you kidding? Miranda will slaughter you. She'll be here soon, I need a drink." Emily scampered off in search of a waiter and Andrea laughed again.
"I hope she won't be too angry..."
"That woman is putty on your hands, she's never mad at you darling."
Andrea scoffed, "Nigel. I love you, but you are utterly full of shit."
Just then Andrea felt the air change, whipping her head to look at the vision that is Miranda Priestly. The white Dolce and Gabbana dress fell over her body deliciously the tight beaded bodice relived itself into a long flowing train. With a off the shoulder strap of draping fabric, the dress held itself up by sheer will. With her hair perfectly done, and face painted in shades of grey and nude, diamonds gracing her ears and wrists, ending in a pair of deep grey Prada heels, she looked every bit ike the queen she was.
Emily squeaked before racing to Miranda's side, Andrea on the other hand was rooted to the spot, her eyes never leaving the goddess in front of her, traveling down her slim neck, pronounced collar bones and narrow shoulders down across her chest, which was mostly covered, dipping to a sweetheart neckline, much to Andy's chargin. Across to her left hip, where the tightness dropped off into a sea of white fabric, the entire piece was stunning.
Miranda came to stand in front of her, "Andrea, is there a reason you are staring at me, instead of doing your job?" Miranda let a small smirk play at her lips, before quickly replacing it with an icy glare.
Watching Andrea swallow she was ready for a fumbled apology, instead Andrea smiled sweetly and said, "How could I not? You look absolutely wonderful, like the queen you are."
That had shut the editor up, and most around them too.
Emily squeaked again, she was shocked, what was wrong with this girl today? She was planning on getting them both killed in the next five minutes.
Miranda smirked, letting her eyes roam the young woman's delicious body, "Acceptable." She turned, motioning to her assistants to follow her through the room.
Exactly one hour later, Andrea realized all she has not uttered a word to help Miranda, but had been helping herself to the glorious image that is her boss's backside. Well, her back is nice, but her ass actually. Andrea had spent 60 glorious minutes watching the editor's ass sway with her hips. It was beautiful and mesmerizing. What she wouldn't give to feel those full globes in her hands and against her now weeping cunt.
"Shit." She muttered under her breath. Andrea Sachs was turned on, as horny as a 16 year old boy actually, she needed a drink, or seven.
"Andrea, is it so hard for you to keep your plebeian language in your pretty little head? Bloody hell- did I just. No Miranda. She is your assistant. Nothing more. Ever.
Pretty?! Really?
"Uh no, sorry Miranda. May I be excused to get something to drink?"
Miranda pursed her lips, "yes, and I need a scotch, on the rocks." She turned and led a gob smacked Emily to a group of designers.
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Andy stood by the bar, she had already downed a glass of champagne and another glass of some other alcohol- she hadn't known what it was, she simply asked the man for something strong. The young woman was quite aware she needed to get back to her position, but in all reality she wasn't really sure that was physically possible at that point. She needed to be as far away from the star of her fantasies as possible.
"Six, our lovely dragon is asking for you, I'm sure you've had enough time to get over the way she looks tonight." He wiggled hiis eyebrows at her, but at her lack of response he realized, she had not gotten over it. Not at all.
"Oh Andy. Well, you need to get back there or you'll be fired, I'm sure she needs that scotch by now. Irving just joined her group." Nigel have her a reassuring pat on her arm and walked off in the direction of some hot waiter.
Taking a deep breath Andy walked back into the dragon's line of fire.
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Andy smiled lightly, handing the drink to her boss. "Here Miranda."
Miranda nodded her head in the woman's direction before continuing her conversation with the elderly man about a stock report or something. Andrea took this time to study the back of Miranda's neck. It was perfectly visible, because of her short, glorious, probably soft, beautifully silver hair- not to mention the way the dress was cut. Her upper back was also visible, the movement in her shoulder blades noticeable to Andy, as she gave a fake chuckle to a joke, that was undeniably idiotic, the man had made.
Andy decided she hated him, this old man, who ever he was, she should know, she mesmerized the entire binder... And in all reality she probably did, but she didn't care about him, well not totally, but what Andy wouldn't give to have a conversation with the lovely editor.
"Andrea isn't it?"
Andy snapped up at the sound of her full name falling from the lips of someone who wasn't Miranda.
"No. Well, yes, but A-Andy. I prefer Andy."
She gave a half assed smile and looked at the man in front of her, he wasn't old, at least not like the 1/2 dead one still speaking with Miranda, closer to 45 or so. He also wasn't hideous, actually if Andy was into men, he would be a beautiful specimen. But as of... How long has she been working at Runway? However long that has been, she has been man-free.
"Good to know." He flashed a toothy smile.
"Right, and you're..." Andy thought for a moment "Ah! You're Henry Olsen, the director, right?"
The tall man smiled again, "You are smart, aren't you sweetheart? Yes, Henry, please. How are you this evening?"
Andy cringed. Okay so wrong genitalia, and a condescending ass-wipe. His blue eyes, while sparkly, and beautiful in their own right, were the wrong shade, too... Green-y. And his hair was too dark, almost black, and much too tan. Andy gave a fake chuckle and have a smile, "I'm lovely, thanks for asking Henry. And you?"
"Much better now that I have a beautiful woman to speak to, and hopefully dance with?"
Andy hid her repulsion by chuckling, "Well Henry, I'm working, so I cannot, I apologize."
She have what she hoped came across as a apologetic smile to him.
"Ah, yes, of course. But you'll call me?" He asked, not waiting for her response, he brought her hand to his lips and then somehow slid a business card between her fingers and left her side quickly.
She breathed a sigh of relief and grimaced in repulsion at the same time. Henry was... Smarmy.
"If you're finished finding a hook up, I suggest you get my wrap." Miranda whispered into her ear at an icy volume.
"No Miranda! I was not, I mean I didn't-"
She held up her hand, "today Andrea."
The woman let out a sigh of defeat and went to fetch their wraps.
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It took all Miranda had not to growl when she saw the sleaze ball, Henry Olsen speaking to her Andrea. The girl looked both slightly uncomfortable, and wholly beautiful, which did not help Miranda at all. She wanted to kill him. Slowly. Painfully. No one caused her beautiful Andrea discomfort or pain.
She recalled hearing Andy complain about a young man who worked for security, he was somewhat handsy and spoke too freely with her, it had unerved the girl. So naturally, Miranda had him blacklisted, from both security, and police academies around the USA.
Edward Lindt was still speaking to her, she gave him a fake laugh and a tight smile. I need to get out of here. Soon.
When the odious man in front of her Andrea took a breath, Miranda Turned to whisper into the beautiful brunette's ear. "If you're finished finding a hook up, I suggest you get my wrap."
She knew it was evil, really she did. But it was either that or she would punch the man talking to her. So, she went with that. The two stuttered something you could barely call a conversation and then Andy scurried to get their wraps from the coat check.
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Seeing Andrea make her way back across the room made Miranda's heart clench. She should be angry with the silly girl. She wore a definite cocktail dress to a gala, but she looked... Gorgeous, just simply... Breath taking. Miranda could barely form words, and she had felt the young woman's eyes on her all evening. But, she didn't care, she didn't care because the only thing she wanted more than Andrea's eyes on her, was her own body.
A shiver ran through the editor. Son of a bitch
Andrea stopped at a respectable distance behind Miranda and spoke softly, "Your wrap, Miranda." The older woman nodded and excused herself. "Emily, you're free to stay," Emily let out a shocked gasp as Miranda continued, "Andrea, you're with me. Let's go."
She motioned for Andy to follow her, Andy took the initiative and sent Roy a text text, letting him know that they were on their way out.
After sliding into the car Miranda spoke, "Well, come along, Andrea."
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"What do you think you were doing? Flirting with that man, at a work function!" Miranda's voice was still quiet, and icy, but there was something else too, that Andy couldn't place.
"I-I'm sorry. I really just wanted to smack him, but I did not want you to look bad, Miranda. So I let him speak to me. I apologize wholeheartedly."
Miranda nodded, "Fine." The car pulled up to the drive of the townhouse, "come in for a drink, Andrea?"
Andy knew it wasn't actually a question, it never was, but she took a moment to decide anyway. "Sure, I can come in for awhile."
Miranda gave the girl a small smile before nodding, "Roy, go home, That's all."
Sliding from the car, Miranda turned and held out her hand to a shocked Andy, "Andrea, let's go."
Andy gave her a blinding smile and followed her out of the car and into the town house