There's a lull in conversation as Andy scratches frantically in her notepad.
Miranda watches because it's one of her most developed skills. She can deconstruct an image, a scene, or a person to its most basic parts without much effort at all. But, she doesn't watch Andy for any of those reasons; she watches Andy because she's always enjoyed what she sees. Miranda observes the quick, smooth movements of fingers practiced at the motion of forming words. There is a beauty in the frenzied movements that she appreciates; an efficiency that she didn't realize she would miss when absent from her.
"The answer is yes," Andy says through smiling lips. It's quiet but certain and meant only for Miranda's ears. Her focus has shifted from her notes back to Miranda. The tingle that rushes up Miranda's spine reminds her how much it pleased her to be the singular focus of this particular woman.
"I don't believe I asked a question, Andrea." A smirk plays across her lips. "Shall I do your job as well as my own?" Miranda stares back pointedly remembering how much Andy also enjoyed being the focus of her attention. Miranda's pulse quickens. Andy isn't unsure and shy anymore. Miranda notices the overt glances and casual touches; she allows them. There's no longer a husband, or a strict power dynamic, that makes her ignore the something that has always been between them.
Andy's smile widens and her eyes soften. It's a look Miranda has seen many times and on many faces. But it's the first time she has wanted to return it. She doesn't give in to the impulse. An interview over lunch is not the place to be showing interest in a former employee with whom she occasionally flirted while under her employ.
Andy stands before Miranda can say anything to dispel the unexpectedly intimate mood. "Let me get your coat."
Miranda follows Andy at the implicit request. She allows Andy to slip the coat up her arms and around her shoulders. Because Miranda's observation skills are so keen, she notices brown eyes scan the area for intrusive eyes before seeking permission to secure the belt of the coat around her waist. Miranda nods in permission because Andy still puts her and her hard earned public image first and that deserves acknowledgement.
Miranda tries to ignore how deliciously dangerous and intimate it feels to have such single-minded attention focused on her; she tries to ignore how nice it feels to have hands that want to touch her and first seek permission to do so; she tries to ignore how much she wants to somehow prolong this interaction or continue it at some near future moment.
"When you finally ask me, the answer will be yes." Andy is standing much closer than is necessary to be heard but somehow still too far away.
They walk out silently. They're close but not touching.
Andy waits for Miranda's car to pull around. It's endearing and it makes Miranda smile at the sky.
It's not until the car begins to move forward that Miranda makes her decision. "Stop," she says the command with an upraised hand. Andy appears in full color as she slides the window down. "Would you like to have dinner with me Friday evening?"
Andy's smile is instant and full of excited happiness.
"Yes."