She is – The Fray

The run through was going disastrously. Nigel watched as Miranda stared down a new fashion assistant that had dared to suggest that two dresses – one turquoise, the other cerulean – were the same colour. As the young woman stuttered to explain herself, the doors to Miranda's office flew open.

Accompanied with Emily's flustered shout of "She's busy now, you have to make an appointment for later." Irv strutted into the room. Nigel sighed in anticipation of the inevitable fight; Irv's face was a was between smugness and irritation, while Miranda had turned on her iciest, most terrifying persona. "What the hell is this, Miranda?" he cried, slapping down a handful of papers on her desk. "Do you really think that your actions wont impact RUNWAY?"

"I believe, Irv," Miranda replied, calm but with a livid undertone, "that what you are holding is called a newspaper. Being in publishing, I would hope that you would know that." Nigel clearly remembered her once saying "Hope, I live on it." but Irv seemed not to catch the reference. Miranda continued, her voice cold enough to form icicles. "As for my 'actions' I must assume you mean my relationship with Andrea. If that is the case then no, I don't think RUNWAY will be negatively affected by my lesbianism, and it is surely none of your business."

Leaning forward Nigel could see that the papers were in fact Page 6 of The Times. The heading "Ice Queen Melts for Hot Young Woman" soared at the head of the page. Under it, on the left side of the page, was a photo of Miranda and Andy at some restaurant or another. That in itself would not usually be considered 'scandalous'. Andy must have said something funny – her face was lit up with a wide smile, while Miranda's head was tipped back in laughter, more radiant than Nigel had seen it in years.

To the right side of the page was another photo, clearly taken at night. Despite the dim lighting, one could clearly see it was Miranda's front step. Andy was holding the town house door open for Miranda, who was facing Andy, safely enclosed in her arms. The photographer had been there in exactly the right moment. The two women were just about to kiss, their faces no more than centimetres apart. Andrea's gaze was pure want, lust seeping from every pore, but there was a careful, loving way about how she held the older woman that spoke of the depth of her feelings. Miranda's face was harder to see, but their was more emotion in her eyes than Nigel had ever seen directed at anyone, even the twins. While neither photo was explicit, there could be no mistaking the pairs relationship.

Nigel had known about it for months, and was aware that the pair had been planing on attending an upcoming Gala together, but Irv, with no preparation, was simply not accepting the couple. Indeed, Miranda's calculating words seemed only to have annoyed him further.

"I will not allow you to ruin Ellis-Clarks most successful magazine with your.. your... your mid-life crisis! Three divorces was bad enough, this is unacceptable!" The small man's face grew more and more purple until it matched the plum belt of the mannequin behind him. Miranda's pale face narrowed as she asked, with fire in her voice, "What, exactly, are you saying? Are you ordering me within my personal life?"

Irv's eyes widened at her words, a shrewd look on his face. "Either you break up with your little lesbian mid-life crisis, or..." Miranda's face was furious with his description of Andrea, " you're fired." Nigel almost groaned. He had know Miranda enough years to know that she would never, ever leave RUNWAY, and dreaded the thought of having to comfort both Andrea, and Miranda, when to two broke up.

Miranda's face was a blank mask. "Emily," she called evenly, "get me Andrea on the phone." Nigel was unable to choke back a surprised cough – surely Miranda wouldn't break up with someone over the phone, right? "She's on line one, Miranda." Emily responded. "Thank you, Emily" Miranda offered before picking up the phone. "Andrea, darling... I'm just calling to say I will be home in time for dinner... yes, the run through ended early for me... I'll see you soon."

Finally, Nigel spoke. "Miranda?" The woman in question paused in the door way. Her face was radiant, serene, with a small smile playing across her lips. "You don't understand, any of you. Andrea, she is everything. Everything I want, everything I need, she is everything. Of course I would choose her over RUNWAY, and spend less time thinking about it than a Hummingbirds heartbeat. Have a pleasant evening." With that, and a small "Thank-you" to the startled second assistant who passed Miranda her coat, the silver-haired fashion queen swept out of the RUNWAY offices for the last time.