Part 2

Miranda sat motionless at her desk. She didn't even bother pretending to work on her computer. Nobody dared question her lack of movement anyway. Emily and Serena scurried around, carrying out their assignments, but Miranda could tell they had difficulties focus. Who could blame them? Their friend and colleague was missing and they feared the worst. Everyone did, but Miranda refused to give in to it. Andrea could not be gone forever. It was impossible. If she was, Miranda confessed to herself that neither she nor the entire office floor would ever be the same again. Having only worked at Runway for ten months, Andrea Sachs had put her easily distinguishable stamp on them all.

What was it about this young woman that made it impossible to remain indifferent to her? Miranda had taken a chance on hiring girl who was as far from the usual clackers as could possibly be. She wore deplorable clothes those first weeks. Lumpy, ugly, polyester knitwear. Skirts that would have fit someone's older aunt in the seventies. And that horrible corduroy jacket blazer…Miranda shuddered. Then one day when Miranda returned to work after a day off, Andrea had transformed—with the help of Nigel, one of her biggest fans.

It was as if Miranda could finally see Andrea when she discarded her ugly clothes like a butterfly crawls out of its cocoon. Miranda realized it may appear shallow that she required a person to dress with taste and style in order to properly appreciate them for who they were. Perhaps she was shallow that way. And spoiled. Now when Andrea dressed like a clacker the huge surprise was that she still was as far from clacker-esque as before regarding her personality. Her smile was a broad as when she dressed badly. Her laughter held the same plebeian cackling tone. That said, Miranda now saw what Andrea had been hiding—a sparkling intelligence, a knack for adaptability, and a genuine kindness.

And who was she kidding? The girl was sensual with an innate sexuality that hit Miranda l full force. Andrea moved differently when in heels. Earlier, she had stomped around in her flat, bulky shoes, but as soon as she donned her first pair of pumps, her hips swayed and she straightened up and squared her shoulders.

With each assignment, Andrea grew before Miranda's eyes, until she had surpassed Emily by far. Emily was still quite capable, but Andrea seemed to be able to read Miranda's mind. Anticipating what Miranda wanted and providing it before she asked, Andrea streamlined Miranda's workflow seamlessly. This was not why Miranda's stomach was in a tight, ice-cold knot. She wasn't going to decipher the motivation for her violent physical reaction to the situation, mainly because she refused to fully accept there was a situation in the first place. Still, part of her insisted Nigel was right. Her feelings for Andrea were complicated, but he was correct. She felt differently about Andrea because Andrea was different.

"Miranda? Detective Gilmore is here to see you." Emily stood in the doorway, her face pale and her hair a little mussed.

"Very well." Miranda stood as a tall, lanky woman entered her office.

"I'm Detective Alicia Gilmore," the woman said, extending a hand. "I've come to take your statement regarding Andrea Sachs disappearance."

"Miranda Priestly. Have a seat, Detective," Miranda said after shaking the proffered hand.

Gilmore sat down and pulled out a pen and notepad. She flipped through it and folded it open. "I'm going to let you tell me about your morning when it comes to interacting with Andrea."

Miranda nodded and described how she had gotten in just on time and found Andrea waiting by the elevator with her latte as usual. They spoke briefly and then Andrea made a list of assignments, returned some phone calls for Miranda, and then headed out to do her errands.

"Was she in a good mood?"

"As far as I can tell, yes," Miranda said. "Focused, energetic. As always."

"And she was going to," Gilmore consulted her notes, "Donna Karan and Hermes? Which did she go to first?"

"Hermes confirmed she was in and out of there in less than two minutes at 10.10 am. Donna Karan's office said she never showed up." Miranda furtively pressed a cold hand against her midsection. "She should have been back here at 10.25 am at the latest, even considering the nightmare traffic situation around here."

"Has Andrea every stayed away like this before?"

Her ire growing, Miranda pursed her lips. "Let me get this across, once and for all. Andrea is not staying away, nor has she ever skipped any of her duties while working for me. She is a first class assistant—and loyal…to a fault. This is not any ordinary airhead secretary we're talking about. This is someone who is on a clearly lit path to a successful profession. No matter what you think you must ask as part of your routine, if you doubt the severity of Andrea's disappearance, you're wasting both our time. Most of all, you're wasting time Andrea doesn't have."

Gilmore looked pensive, but not offended. "Fair enough. I've sent uniforms to canvas the surrounding blocks of where her driver saw her last. As for her phone, we're tracking it going south on I-78. We expect to stop the car in question any moment now."

Miranda gasped and felt oxygen leave her office. She drew another breath and curled and uncurled her toes repeatedly inside her Louboutins. "I expect to be kept fully informed."

Gilford developed an annoyed wrinkle between her eyebrows. "We're going to be very busy, Ms. Priestly—"

"If it's too much of a nuisance for you, Detective, I'm sure Captain North explained to you how this will be handled—and who you need to inform." Miranda saw Gilmore visibly flinch at the low, barely audible threat in her voice.

"Fine. Fine." Sighing, Gilmore rose. "I'm going to talk to Andrea's colleagues now."

Miranda stood as well and noted absentmindedly that Detective Gilmore didn't extend her hand to say goodbye, but couldn't care less. She expected Gilmore to fall in line. Miranda needed to know every single new development in their efforts to locate Andrea.

As Gilmore left her office, Miranda rounded her desk and closed the door. When there was no risk of any prying eyes to peer inside, she leaned sideways against it, drawing several raw, painful breaths. Andrea had to be alive and well. With each passing second, it got harder and harder to keep her equilibrium. She felt dizzy every time she closed her eyes for more than two seconds. Her tear ducts hurt from keeping tears of frustration at bay.

A new knock on the door made Miranda flinch. "Yes, enter." Miranda leaned at her desk, the glass top cutting into her left hip.

Detective Gilmore poked her head in. "Ms. Priestly. A Jersey black and white has stopped the suspected car we're monitoring. They were in pursuit for about fifteen minutes and now they have it surrounded. I'm going to go to the location—"

Miranda stood and walked past the detective. "Emily. Coat. Bag. You're with me."

Emily scurried over to the closet and then returned with her things. "Here you go."

"No, no, no. No civilians." Gilmore glowered at Miranda.

"I'm not going with you." Miranda didn't explain, but motioned for Emily and Serena to join her. "Jocelyn. Man the phones."

"WH—yes, Miranda." Jocelyn paled considerably and took Emily's chair.

"Just keep detailed notes of who's calling," Emily murmured as she pulled on an orange leather jacket. "I'll deal with everything later."

"Thanks, Em."

Miranda was already half out the door, but the way her staff rallied around her and each other didn't go unnoticed. She noticed Gilmore and the two officers in uniform she brought with her take the elevator to the right. "You both have your cell phones, right?" Miranda said as she stepped inside the left elevator, motioning with her chin for them to join her.

Emily gaped but nodded as she stood next to Miranda. Serena calmly stepped onto the elevator and joined Emily, pulling out her phone.

"I assume you want to know where they found the car on I-78." Serena didn't wait for an answer, but tapped at the large screen of her phone. "Here. Seems like it's on a ramp perhaps?" She pointed at the phone while turning it to Miranda. "Are we driving there?"

"No. We're not driving." Miranda pressed the button to the rooftop of the Elias-Clarke building and then raised her phone to her ear. "Tell John Miranda Priestly has an emergency."

Emily whipped her head toward Serena, her eyes wide. "Bloody hell."

Serena smiled wryly. "Perfeito! The company helicopter."

XXXXX

Her arm that was pinned beneath the heavy weight and her abdomen was numb now. In a way it was a blessing, but it also worried Andy as she realized in her dazed state that it couldn't possibly be a good thing.

"Help!" she tried again and attempted to bang at the wall with her free hand. The sound barely registered even in the room where she was, which suggested it hardly was audible on the outside.

What was this place? Cold, smelly to a point where she gagged, and completely dark. She had no idea how long she'd been unconscious or how she ended up here. What had she been doing just before?

An image floated to the surface in her mind and she clung to it. A woman. White hair, amazing blue eyes, pink mouth and a velvety voice that—Miranda. "Miranda," Andy whimpered. What if something had happened to her? Had they been together when this, whatever this was, happened? Had Miranda and she been in the towncar with Roy…and perhaps had an accident? That didn't make sense. Why would Andy be here, in this awful room that stank so badly?

She thought of her parents. Doug. Emily. Serena. And Nigel. Where were they? Did they know she was in trouble? Or did everyone assume she was somewhere perfectly fine? Panic erupted and she thrashed under the heavy weight. "No, no, no…please…somebody help me. I'm here. Please help me!"

Realizing she was only hurting herself, Andy stopped moving and wept silently. She wanted to see Miranda's face…just one more time. She loved her boss. Having always assumed nothing would ever come of it, Andy made a vow right then and there. If she survived this, if someone found her and she was able to see Miranda one last time, Andy would her she loved her and always would. Clinging to that thought, she kept pounding as hard as she could against the wall. Even her legs were numb now. What if it was too late?

Continued in Part 3