"No, no, no, no, no," Andy chanted under her breath as she hurried through the lobby of the Elias-Clarke building. So far the day had been a complete disaster. First, her alarm didn't go off, which was a direct result of her forgetting to set it the night before. Then she'd dropped toothpaste on the blouse she was wearing. After changing, she managed to give the second blouse a coffee bath. By the time, she ran out of her apartment, she was on her third top.
If all that wasn't bad enough, the subway car she was on stopped mid-tunnel, delivering Andy on a quick visit to commuter hell as the other passengers started complaining loudly. Finally, she got to Starbucks only to find they didn't have Miranda's coffee order ready. Whichever idiot stuck the new girl with the most important order of the morning should have been shot in Andy's opinion. At last, with the coffee firmly in hand, Andy made a mad dash across the street, narrowly missing being hit by a cab.
Venturing far enough across the lobby to have the elevators in sight, Andy's litany of non-acceptance began. The left-hand set of elevators were cordoned off, and there was a large crowd waiting before the other pair. I'll never get through there, unless… Taking a deep breath, Andy shouted, "Miranda's coffee coming through!" Not surprisingly, at the mention of the editor's name, everyone moved aside. Andy shot through the opening and into the elevator whose doors had just slid apart. She jabbed the button to close the doors before anyone could join her. Sliding her ID card through the scanner, she punched the button for Runway's floor, effectively turning the car into an express. It had cost her two bottles of very expensive bourbon to get her name on the list of employees with that privilege, and it was worth every cent.
Once out of the elevator, she hurried past the reception desk and along the corridor to Miranda's office. Checking the time on her phone, Andy breathed a sigh of relief. She was going to make it with seconds to spare. That is until she rounded a corner and slammed into someone heading in the opposite direction. Andy went down, the other person landed on top of her, and coffee covered the closest wall.
"Welcome to my bad day," Andy muttered before opening her eyes and looking into the ones staring down at her. That's when her day went from bad to disastrous. She was looking up into the startled blue eyes of none other than Miranda Priestly.
"Really, Andréa, a simple invitation would have sufficed. You didn't have to literally knock me into it," Miranda said with the tiniest of smirks.
"Miranda! I'm so sorry," Andy gasped out, trying not to think of how soft and warm Miranda felt lying on top of her. Her hands closed over the small of Miranda's back of their own accord.
"Since this isn't my first choice of location to enact this scene, perhaps you should let me up," Miranda advised.
"What? Oh! I'm sorry," Andy apologized yet again, removing her hands as if they'd encountered something hot. Well, actually they did. Miranda was totally hot!
Miranda rose to her knees, her smirk deepening slightly as Andy gave a soft moan when one knee came into intimate contact between her legs. Andy sat up and scrambled to her feet, offering a hand to assist Miranda. Andy bit her lip to contain another moan when their hands clasped.
"I-I should go get you more coffee," Andy managed, hoping her voice wasn't as shaky as she felt.
"Splendid, but do watch where you're going this time. It wouldn't do to have you rolling around on the floor with just anyone," Miranda stated before turning on her heel and heading back the way she'd come.
Andy shook her head and made a dash back for the elevator. Can this day get any stranger?
It turned out that it could.
Andy made it back and placed Miranda's coffee on her desk just as the morning run-through was beginning. She tried to slip in and out quietly but was stopped by Miranda calling her name in that soft, lethal voice. Turning back, Andy tried not to fidget as she replied, "Yes, Miranda?"
"Put this on," Miranda directed, shoving a dress into Andy's hands.
"Pu—what?" Andy stammered. One look into those icy blue eyes and she turned, intending to change in the nearest ladies room.
"Where are you going? I said to put that on. Did you hit your head during your little fall this morning? Should I call the company nurse to perform a CT scan?"
Andy looked around at Nigel, Jocelyn, and the others standing around and blushed furiously. "Umm, Miranda…" she began only to be cut off.
"Behind the screen," Miranda snapped, gesturing to the folding panels that had been set up in the corner of her office.
Hurrying behind the screen, Andy began to undress. Since when did Miranda have a screen set up for a run-through? She seldom used models, and when she did, they tended to strip off without any qualms or modesty. Holding up the dress to get a better look at it, Andy swallowed hard. The bodice was little more than two strips of material that ran from the skirt over each shoulder and down to the skirt in back. If that wasn't bad enough, the skirt didn't begin until several inches below her navel and barely came high enough in the back to cover her butt. Any form of lingerie was out. Hell, stepping outside the screen in this concoction was out. She'd be basically naked.
"Andréa, surely even your country-bred mind can figure out how to put on a dress," Miranda said in a chilly tone.
Oh, damn! Yanking the dress over her head, Andy smoothed it down over her hips. Standing as straight as possible to keep her breasts from slipping out from under the strips, Andy took a deep breath and stepped out. She kept her eyes fixed above everyone's head. No way was she meeting anyone's eyes, especially not the frigid blue pair that she felt like a touch on her skin.
"Stop hiding and come here." Miranda pointed to the floor in front of her.
Suppressing a sigh, Andy moved to the appointed spot.
"Turn around," Miranda directed.
Andy spun slowly in place, wishing she were anywhere but where she was currently at. She couldn't stop herself from jumping when a hand suddenly ghosted over her butt.
"Does it seem a bit loose here, Nigel?" Miranda asked.
"No, not at all," he responded.
Though his tone was serious, a quick glance showed Andy that his eyes were brimming with mirth. You are such a dead man, Andy threatened him silently. A small "eep" escaped when the fingers of that same hand stroked the skin of her lower back.
"The skirt seems to be cutting just a bit. Can it be loosened?" Miranda inquired.
Andy's eyes widened. Any looser and the damned skirt would fall off. It was the tightness that held it in place. A slender finger slipped under the edge of one strap and traced up her back and paused at the shoulder.
"Turn around," Miranda instructed.
So help me if she does that down the front I'm going to stroke out right here. Andy turned slowly, biting her lip to keep from saying anything that would irritate Miranda and thereby making this even more embarrassing than it already was. As that one finger started down, Andy's eyes flicked to Miranda's and held there. She opened her lips slightly and sipped at the air. Just before contacting Andy's areola, Miranda removed her finger, and Andy breathed a silent sigh of relief.
"Andréa, bend forward."
Shocked, Andy's response was immediate. "Umm, no."
Everyone froze as Miranda's eyes spit blue fire. "I gave you an instruction. I expect it to be obeyed."
Andy shook her head. "I'm not bending over, Miranda. Unlike the average model, I have breasts. If I do as you ask, everyone will know it because they'll be making an appearance. You might not care if the world at large sees my breasts, but I do."
Miranda's eyes traveled to the breasts in contention, then to each of the people in the room before returning to Andy. "Everyone leave," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Andy blinked back tears as the others hurried from the room. Miranda was getting rid of the witnesses before she killed her. Andy only hoped the stupid dress was ruined in the process. When the door closed with a decisive click, Andy dared to glance at Miranda.
"Very well. They're gone. Now do as I instructed," Miranda told her. Leaning back against her desk, Miranda waited expectantly.
This is total lunacy! This day just kept getting worse. There was no way Andy was exposing herself to Miranda. "Can't you just take my word for it that I'll pop out if I bend over?" she asked hopefully.
"Are your breasts deformed, or do you just have a poor body image?" Miranda sneered.
"Why are you so determined to see them?" Andy shot back. Her mouth dropped open when Miranda blushed.
"Get out," Miranda ordered in a trembling voice. She walked over to her desk and sat down, slipping on her glasses and staring at her laptop screen as if it held the answer to all of life's mysteries.
Quickly, Andy gathered her clothes and did as she was ordered. She ignored Emily's astonished stare as she caught sight of the revealing dress. Once changed, Andy returned the dress to the Closet, hanging it where Nigel could easily find it. She really didn't want to talk to him, or anyone else, about what had transpired in Miranda's office. Back at her desk, she buried herself in work, all the while mulling over the events in the back of her mind. The entire day was proving surreal. Had Miranda really blushed? And did that mean she really did want to see Andy's breasts? Was the whole production in her office about just that?
Andy became even more confused when a short time later one of the more well-endowed women in the beauty department came through wearing the same dress. She entered Miranda's office, closing the door. She emerged a few minutes later and left without a word.
"Emily, call James Holt. Tell him the dress he sent for evaluation is not stable in the bodice," Miranda called softly.
Andy groaned. Miranda really had been simply trying to find out if the dress would contain the wearer's breasts. That wasn't a blush of embarrassment; it was pure anger on Miranda's part. Andy tried not to think about the fact that she wasn't at all pleased with the idea of another woman walking in there and flashing Miranda. Deciding that she needed to get out of there, Andy sent a quick email to move the pickup of the Chanel jackets from the next day to that afternoon. Grabbing her bag, she mumbled an excuse to Emily and hurried out.
Andy did a good job of avoiding Miranda for the rest of the day by running every errand she could think of. True, Miranda wasn't going to be happy that she'd have to come up with a whole new list of errands to keep Andy's replacement busy the rest of the week, but that really wasn't Andy's concern. She just hadn't wanted to face being fired in the office and having to see Emily gloat. It was much better to be fired when she delivered the Book. Then she could slip back and clean out her desk while the office was empty. No one would see her go; she'd just be another assistant who vanished without a second thought from anyone else at Runway.
Clutching the Book to her chest, she let herself into Miranda's townhouse. She hung up the dry cleaning and placed the Book just so on its assigned table. With a heavy heart, she placed her copy of the key to the front door on top of the Book. She stood for a moment, head tipped back and blinked at a sudden rush of tears. She was going to miss Miranda, not the job, but the woman herself. She waited silently until the call that she'd been expecting came, barely disturbing the silence.
"Andréa."
"Yes, Miranda."
"Have your feet taken root in my floor? Bring the Book."
With a sigh, Andy picked up the Book, key on top, and paced off the distance to Miranda's sitting room. She offered the mockup to Miranda with both hands to make sure the key didn't slide off. Miranda set aside the book she had been reading and glanced over the top of her glasses.
"Is there a reason you've forgotten to return the key to your bag?"
Andy looked at her in surprise. "But I thought…"
"No, you evidently did not think. Perhaps you'd like to do so now, if you can manage to do so without hurting your little brain," Miranda sniped, pulling off her glasses and looking up at Andy.
Andy set the Book down on a nearby table. She twisted her hands together nervously.
"I, uh, I'm sorry, Miranda. I didn't mean to be rude today. I, uh…" Her voice faded off because she really didn't know how to phrase an apology without admitting things she didn't want to admit.
Miranda frowned and huffed in exasperation. "I don't believe I asked you for an apology. I asked you to think."
Andy clenched her hands in frustration. "Think what? I don't know what you want me to think about, Miranda."
"No, I don't suppose you do," Miranda conceded. She folded her glasses and laid them on the Book beside the key. Nodding toward the small piece of metal, she asked, "Why did you think I would want that back?"
"Because of what I said in the office. I mean, I thought you blushed when I said it, but then I realized you were angry with me and I figured you were going to fire me," Andy finished in a rush. She clamped her lips shut, realizing that she'd been babbling.
"I wasn't angry," Miranda stated and then sat quietly, watching Andy.
"You weren't?" Andy asked in confusion. "Then what…? Oh. OH!" She suddenly realized she'd been right the first time. Miranda had blushed. "So, you, um, you really did, I mean, you did. Oh."
"Mmm, yes," Miranda agreed with a tiny smile.
"Why are you telling me this now? I mean, you threw me out of your office." Andy was only getting more confused by the entire conversation.
"I find it rather disconcerting to be shown that I'm allowing ulterior motives to influence my work decisions. To have it brought to my attention by the very person whose presence instigated that choice? Well, let's just say that I reacted negatively," Miranda explained.
Andy couldn't believe that not only was Miranda letting her ask questions, she was actually answering them. The bizarreness of the day was clearly still in effect. "This has been the strangest day," she muttered, unaware that she was speaking aloud.
"You did welcome me into it," Miranda said in a teasing tone.
Startled that Miranda had responded, Andy laughed. "Yes, I guess I did. If I'm not fired, I suppose I should get going."
"I wasn't aware that we were finished."
"We're not? Was there something you needed for me to do?" Andy couldn't help wondering if she'd ever stop being confused around Miranda.
Miranda nodded toward the chair opposite her, and for the first time Andy noticed a garment bag draped over the back of it.
"Did you want me to take that back to the office?" Andy guessed. She was at a loss when Miranda shook her head. "Then what?"
"Open it," Miranda directed.
Crossing to the chair, Andy lifted the bag and unzipped it. Inside was the dress that had started all this. "You want me to put it on?" Andy couldn't believe that was it, but when Miranda nodded and gestured to the powder room across the hall, Andy turned in that direction. She had thought Miranda had settled the issue of the bodice earlier, but maybe James had made changes to it. Though it seemed awfully fast, Andy was used to people moving at lightning speed to keep Miranda happy. She did it herself, after all.
Once she had the dress on, she was even more confused than before. She couldn't tell whether there was any difference in it. However, she wasn't an expert on fashion, so maybe Miranda would see the difference. Walking back out, she paused beside Miranda's chair and waited.
"Lean over," Miranda instructed.
"Miranda, I don't think the result is going to be any different than last time," Andy objected.
"It will be entirely different," Miranda assured her with a hint of a smile. "This time we're not in the office, and there's no one here but us."
Andy's breathing increased as she realized what Miranda was saying. This wasn't about the dress at all. It was entirely about Andy being willing to take a step that would alter their relationship. It didn't require thought. Andy had long known what she would do if ever presented with this opportunity. She didn't hesitate. She moved closer and leaned over, resting her palms on the arms of Miranda's chair. As she expected, her breasts slipped free, and Miranda was there waiting to capture one in her hand and the other in her mouth.
Andy moaned as Miranda's lips pulled at her nipple while busy fingers fondled the other. Reaching down, Andy pulled the dress above her knees and straddled Miranda's lap. The hem rose higher on her thighs as she settled closer. Andy shivered as Miranda's free hand slid up her thigh to disappear under the material. That hand molded and stroked the curve of her ass, pulling Andy even closer.
"Oh, Miranda. Oh, please," Andy gasped, rocking her hips as she sought to relieve the ache between her thighs.
Humming around the flesh in her mouth, Miranda obliged by moving her hand forward to slip between Andy's legs.
"Yes!" Andy hissed between clenched teeth. She wanted this to last, but she was too far gone the moment Miranda touched her. Andy pulled at the dress, yanking it up and off her body, tossing it to the floor. Now fully naked, she cupped her hand over Miranda's and pressed against it. "Take me."
Miranda groaned as her fingers dipped into Andy's center. "So wet," she murmured, releasing Andy's breast to capture her lips in a heated kiss.
Andy released a loud, guttural moan as three fingers slid into her dripping core. She threaded her fingers into the white, silken strands that haunted her dreams and flexed her hips, riding Miranda. She pushed herself down repeatedly, setting a fast, hard rhythm that left them both gasping between ever deepening kisses. Her orgasm came on her in a rush as Andy screamed her release into Miranda's mouth. She felt as if her body were shattering, only to coalescing into someone who now fully belonged to Miranda Priestly. She only hoped Miranda wanted to keep her and that this wasn't a onetime thing.
Collapsing against Miranda, Andy murmured into her neck, "I don't think you even have one button loosened while I'm sitting here naked." She could feel the laugh that rumbled in Miranda's chest.
"You have been having a remarkably difficult day," Miranda teased.
"It just got infinitely better," Andy giggled.
"I can promise you it will improve even more if you accompany me upstairs. I have a very large bed, and I'm more than willing to loosen as many buttons as you desire," Miranda promised.
"All of them." Andy lifted her head to kiss Miranda, slipping her tongue in to stroke over Miranda's. She wanted to just go with Miranda's suggestion, but there was one thing she needed to know first. "Are you just scratching an itch?" she asked hesitantly.
Miranda met Andy's eyes squarely. "As itches go, this is a head to toe rash that will last a lifetime, I sincerely hope."
"Sweet talker," Andy teased, before hopping off Miranda's lap and standing before her in just a pair of black stilettos. "I think you promised me a bed."
"And so I did," Miranda agreed, rising. She toyed with the top button on her blouse, slipping it loose. "One orgasm gets you one button. I hope you're still able to reciprocate by the time you've earned them all."
"Somehow I think this day hasn't raised half the havoc with me that you will tonight," Andy laughed. Taking Miranda's hand, she allowed herself to be led out of the room. If only every bad day could end this way, Andy wouldn't mind them at all. She might even look forward to them.