Phone ringing. ''Come on. Come and pick up the damn phone. Mom.'' Andy Sachs grumbled this was a call out at 1am. All Moms were supposed to be on speed dial ready to give espousing good advice to their kids. Even to drunk children or sober in New York City at 1 in the morning. Andy Sachs was well past her alcohol limit and far from sober.

Andy drank Jäger shots and a few Dark'n'Stormy.

She shouldn't have gone out with work colleagues and boy could they drink and Andy was quarter Irish and because it was a crappy Thursday at work and Andy Sachs just wanted to get good old drunk tonight.

Andy was now more than a little drunk, up a tree send help no shoes blotto. Scrolling through her contacts, pressing the familiar number on her contacts.

Waking Miranda who heard her phone, it was ringing, she had just sunk into her pillow. She'd had a very long day with incompetent staff and a teeth gnashing meeting with Irv Ravitz.

Picking up. If it wasn't an emergency like Cassidy or Caroline or Elias Clarke Building on fire, whoever it was phoning her at 1:30 in the morning, would never work in fashion or publishing or Manhattan again.

Andy heard it be picked up. ''Mom…its Andy… this morning you asked me, why I just quit suddenly in Paris on my boss Miranda and Runway.''

Her voice startled Miranda to sit up in her bed.

Her voice was the last voice she'd ever expected to hear again.

Miranda's elegant arched brows came together, she was calling her. Had the nerve to call her, clenching her teeth.

Andrea.

It had been four months since Andrea had left so suddenly and like a blind old fool for a 100-watt smile, Miranda gave a reference for Andrea should have blackballed her from all publications from the Eastern Seaboard. Then seeing Andrea on the curb with that insipid cheerful wave to her.

Tomorrow she would personally call that rag, The NY Mirror at dawn and see that Andy Sachs was let go from their employment for waking her up. How dare she do this? Who in hell did a little nobody like Andy Sachs from Ohio think she was?

Calling her and bothering her in the middle of the night.

That impudent bumptious hateful of everything about her and Runway little brat.

"I'm a… a…A Lesbian! Mom and I just couldn't continue being at Runway. No. Nate and I are not getting back together. I'm sorry."

Andrea thought she was her Mother. Cold fury was building in Miranda realizing Andy Sachs was slurring and drunk. Did she just hiccup in her ear?

Miranda despised lushes. Drunks were like her father and Stephen. Had very little tolerance for them.

''You want to know why Mom. I love someone at Runway. It's impossible to love her but I do. She doesn't love me. I don't even exist to her.'' Andy made a raspy snort.

Miranda remained silent just listening to Andrea. Pinching her nose bridge with her sheets pooling around her waist.

Rationalizing this, Andrea quit for being gay, Runway had a wonderful policy on alternative lifestyle with no discrimination even to an Ohioan who first wore such ugly clunky shoes.

Sachs was in love but not involved with someone in her office, unrequited, Miranda glared wondering who. Narrowing her blue eyes. It was probably a perky intern or a clacker.

Sachs did sound plain pitiful on the line. Almost about to speak to her. Miranda could every now and then do sympathetic.

''In Paris I had to just leave. Leave Runway. Leave Miranda and walk away and just listen Mom. I need to get this off my chest. To put it in a nutshell. I want her. Not Nate. Her. No other. I am in love with Miranda Priestly.

I finally said it. I can't go on living, keeping it hidden inside me. There. Happy now, you know. And it's not a crush…it's not just lust though I felt that many times…Miranda's a very sexy woman… Mom. It's just that night I saw her cry for her daughters, her twins did I ever tell you about Cassidy and Caroline, Miranda loves them and was so upset for them and that's when I knew that I love her. For a thousand other little things in between.

I LOVE MIRANDA. '' Andrea yelled that drunk.

''I fell for her. I know it's crazy and stupid but I do. If she knew she'd rip my heart out and probably no she would, no doubt just throw me away like Nigel or worse if she knew I loved her.''

Miranda Priestly almost dropped her phone with those words.

Andrea loved her. Speechless it was 1:30 in the morning in her lonely bed. The twins were with their father. Patricia was with them.

Still on the line to her.

''Ahn-dre-ah.'' Weird. Mom's voice sounded just like Miranda's. Drunk. Andy hiccupped.

Feeling lighter confessing this to her Mom in Cincinnati. Sluggishly. ''I'm going to lie down now.''

''Andrea where are you?''

''On my apartment steps, there not comfy.'' Thud.

''Andrea.''

No answer.

Long fingers were running through her hair. Andy leaned into it more. That felt nice, really nice as french manicured nails gently scraping her scalp.

Last night was a blur to Andy. Woke up lying next to someone in a bed. This someone wasn't male, by the curves between her hands, felt warmth and breathing under her hand.

Cupping part of them.

Unable to open her eyes yet, or ever, trying to crack one lid open, clutching her head in both hands instead with a mantra of she was never drinking again. Never. Ever. Her head was killing her.

The anonymous bed mate slid away from Andy and moved off the mattress. Did she sleep with somebody last night? Andy wasn't the type to do that normally.

Andy slowly opened her eyes, which even hurt so much to do, relieved she was still partly dressed and not naked, was in her underwear though.

Just really badly hungover to deal with this morning.

Soft hands smoothed down her back, handed a tablet to take with a glass of water. Andy spied a Hermes Kelly bag of polished crocodile on the floor. Not a knockoff. Odd, Miranda carried a bag like that.

Brown eyes saw their shoes first. Andy knew those shoes and trailing up her legs, she knew those toned legs but not in black jeans. It couldn't be. Meeting her concerned blue eyes.

''Hello again. Andrea.''

Andy was tongue-tied. What was Miranda doing here?

Made to move up to quickly, but her head still ached. Getting up without her pounding head falling off was insurmountable.

''No. Stay in bed or I will be most displeased.'' Miranda warned her. Holding one finger up. Making a call.

''Good Morning. John yes this is Miranda Priestly of Runway. Andrea Sachs is unavoidably detained today with me.''

John. As in John. Andy's Editor at her work. Miranda was on the phone to. Trying to make her brain catch up.

''No trust me Andrea will make copy by 7 tonight. On volunteer dog walking. My word. She will work vigorously on this assignment.''

Was Miranda mocking her?

Andy attempted unsuccessfully to get up to find her jeans, felt a laser blue glare from Miranda of 'Don't you dare get up and out of this bed. Sachs.' still on the phone with John.

''Yes. I am borrowing Andrea for today.'' Miranda was amiable to Andy's Editor.

Andy rubbed her lids. Borrow her. Why?

Ending her call with John who Miranda persuaded to borrow Andy. Pressing her phone to make one more call. ''Emily. I won't be in today. That's all.''

Borrowing Andy?

Andy had heard correctly Miranda would be staying here all day with her, in Andy's place.

Miranda was rummaging in her fridge.

Binning a leftover pizza slice and a carton of leftover Chinese delivery. Sheepish Andy just shrugged but that hurt, hey dining alone wasn't fun.

Andy didn't like Miranda's hand on her box of Lucky Charms. Gave Andréa a raised brow.

Andy moaned again. ''Do not expect my sympathy since it's self-inflicted.''

Pouring from a water bottle the liquid into two glasses and selecting wholegrain bread for toast. Placing the slices into the toaster. Andy mutely watched her. It was weird Miranda Priestly knew how to make toast.

Weirder making toast in Andy's kitchen.

Miranda made herself at home in Andy's kitchen, found a squeezy bottle of honey for toast. Turning on Andy's coffeemaker.

''Try to drink this and eat this. Even just a little.'' Miranda's voice was waspish but authoritative.

Now wait a minute, this was her place. Andy didn't know how to handle Miranda Priestly her ex-boss here making her breakfast. Waking up hungover to a fantasy and part nightmare.

Watched by bright blue eyes over the rim of Andy's coffee mug as Andy did as she was told and drank and began to nibble slowly on toast.

Miranda sipped from Andy's mug as Andy ate a piece of toast in silence.

Glancing at the clock it was just turning 8am. They had hours together. For what. What in hell was Miranda doing here?

''I want you to have a shower and then we'll talk about your phone call to me last night. What you said to me.''

Andy froze. Holding her slice of toast in her mouth in shock. What did she say to Miranda?