The look of confusion on Miranda's face was enough to make Andy laugh, but she was able to control that impulse. From what she remembered, Miranda Priestly was not a woman who enjoyed being made a fun of; So before Miranda could question her further, Andy reached forward and took the garment bag that was hanging near Mr. Kipling.
Upon opening the bag, Andy gasped and muttered, "Tragic, but not irreparable."
"You can fix it?" Miranda and Mr. Kipling asked in unison.
"Of course I can. Who do you think you came to see, Mr. Kipling? You wouldn't be here if you haven't heard of my work." Andy replied confidently.
Miranda merely pursed her lips at the attitude displayed. After years of working with designs, she knew all too well about the arrogance that could and would be perpetrated if left unchecked.
"Is that so? As you were advised, this is a time sensitive issue. This dress is needed in immaculate condition as it once was in just four days time." Miranda challenged.
"I was told and it will be. You will pay for the expediency, but it will be returned to its former glory." Andy replied with as much confidence as her previous words.
A single raised eyebrow was all that provided from Miranda.
Sensing the direction this was taken, Nigel stepped forward and stated, "I understand you have other matters to attend to." while gesturing to the workstation Andy had earlier occupied, "We are willing to pay for the very best so that is gown is restored not just as quickly as possible, but so that it done correctly." He finished.
Nodding, Andy took that garment bag and turned towards another staircase, "Follow me, please. I complete garment restoration on the third floor."
Miranda and Nigel followed the young restoration artist up the flight of stairs and were greeted with a similar, but drastically different environment from the second floor.
The two took in their new surrounding from the top of the landing; There were multiple workstations that were set up across the third floor, but there was no seating area. It was clear this was typically a work only area. Along the farthest wall, there was a deep tub with multiple dividers and faucets. On the walls on either end, were floor to ceiling shelves with an assortment of cleaning products, towels, brushes and swabs.
Andy walked towards a workstation in the center of the room and laid the dress onto the top. She flipped a switch, a low light began to shine from the surface. Miranda and Nigel walked over as she began to look into a drawer attached to the table. As they reached her, Nigel noticed Andy had selected a scalpel like tool, a swab. Setting the items down, she reached into a deeper drawer and pulled out another bottle of a some sort of solution and a pair of gloves.
As Andy put on the gloves, she inspected the dress and asked, "This dress was made in what year?"
"1980." Miranda answered.
Andy merely hummed as the answered confirmed her own mental guess.
She reached for the sleeve that was stained and spread it to all as much light as possible to shine through. Miranda and Nigel observed Andy inspect the first stain on the sleeve, she begins to mutter aloud, "Solvent based stain. Several years old by the way it has hardened. Polyester fabric." She moved and leaned over the stain on the bottom of the dress and continued to, "Detergent solution and ammonia definitely necessary." She turned it over and inspected the stain that had gotten on the back, "Repeat treatments would be a must before moving onto any violent type solvents."
Standing, Andy removed her gloves and looked at her guest, "It'll be difficult, but you will have it in time for your shoot. I'll give your office a call when it is ready."
She began to move her guests towards the staircase, ready to get them gone so that she may begin on her new project. Miranda was not used to being dismissed and almost began to protest, but as she turned towards Andy, a photo on the wall right near her head, caught her attention and she stopped in her tracks.
Tentatively raising her hand, Miranda touched the edge of the frame and was shocked to see an image of her younger self and one of the dearest people from her past standing with her hands on the shoulders of a much younger Andrea Sachs.
"Orla?" Miranda whispered.
"You do remember." Andy stated as she leaned against the banister.
"Of course I do. I was devastated when she passed away." Miranda answered as she turned to look at Andréa in a new light. Remembering the raven haired, high spirited girl who ran alongside her older sister, Orla Long.
Orla had been Miranda's first friend when she arrived from London for university. She had been the only one who reached out to quiet girl with an odd accent on the first day at Columbia. Ensuring Miranda was able to navigate the city and making her feel at home with her family. Recalling the small family unit, she remembered them fondly. Orla and Andréa were well loved by the adults in their life. Orla's great grandfather, Nevan, her grandmother, Ileen, and their mother, Dara.
They had all welcomed her in with open arms.
Miranda remembered speaking with Ileen at length about fashion. The older woman would regal her with tales of restoration work that her family had been apart of.
Alas, like all things that had been the case with Miranda's life. Tragedy struck and she lost the one person who had become her family since her own family had been taken from her.
Orla had been killed in a mugging their senior year. Miranda had been distraught and then became focused on completing the goal she and Orla shared: Graduating at the top of their class and taking the world in their prospective careers by storm. After the funeral, despite their best efforts, the Long family became a reminder of the loss of her closest friend and the time that had been spent together dwindled into nonexistent.
Miranda had begun as at Vogue, of all places, in their beauty department. Working longer and longer hours, until she was able to work her way up to Assistant Editor in Chief and when she was passed over for EIC, she made the lateral move to Runway and never looked back.
A cell phone rang pulling Miranda from her memories.
Looking down the stairs, she saw Nigel speaking on his phone.
Focusing back on Andréa, Miranda stated, "You've grown quite a bit."
Throwing her head back, Andy laughed and replied, "Yeah, I guess I have. Then again, I think I had just turned five the last time we saw each other. If not the pictures of you all over Orla's bedroom, I don't think I retain any memory of you past your eyes." Looking into Miranda's eyes, Andy continued, "The are as blue and beautiful as I remember."
The comment was so unexpected, Miranda felt the blood rush to her cheeks and knew her blush was visible when Andréa looked pleased.
Luckily for Miranda, prior to her being able to comment on it, Nigel called from his place after ending his call, "Miranda. We must get back to Runway. The freelancer has shown up at the office and is causing quite the scene due to you not being there awaiting him."
"I'm sorry?" Miranda questioned darkly.
"I know. Believe me, I know, but he is refusing to leave and Heather is moments for calling security and the police because he is apparently being very belligerent." Nigel quickly explained.
Miranda pursed her lips and turned to Andréa, "I do apologize, but I must go deal with this and I know you have a large undertaking to get to."
"Of course. I'll see you out." Andy stated and gestured for Miranda to proceed first.
Moving through the studio, Andy lead Miranda and Mr. Kipling outside and to the waiting car at the curbside.
"I shall speak with you soon, Andréa. We have a wealth of details to work out, professionally and personally." Miranda stated without waiting for a reply and climbing into the back of the Mercedes.
