Miranda paused at the top of the stairs, regally surveying the gathering spread out below her. Before she took the first step, she could sense Andréa's presence in the room. She was eager to see what the young woman had donned as the bait in their little game of seduction. So far Miranda had been able to resist the pull provided by a beautiful young woman with an amazing body well displayed. She was the first to admit their last encounter had been a near thing.
The last six months had proved an ever intensifying challenge to Miranda. She had previously seen Andréa at certain events fulfilling some role for the unimpressive rag she wrote for. Miranda had never acknowledged Andréa's presence. After all, she was Miranda Priestly and Andréa was simply a highly forgettable second assistant who had the temerity to walk out on Miranda during the most important week of her professional year. The young woman deserved nothing short of full and swift retribution. Why Miranda had chosen not to mete out just punishment was a reality she resolved not to examine. Now she questioned the intelligence of her choice.
Every event she attended seemed also to be graced with the presence of one Andréa Sachs looking increasingly more desirable and inflaming with each meeting, though Miranda supposed meeting was a loose term as she never actually spoke to the young siren. Instead, they circled each other like two prizefighters, each waiting for the other to show an exploitable weakness. So far it was a silent battle fought at a distance.
Andréa circled the edges, working the periphery of the room to obtain the quotes she needed when working, and making light conversation to network when not. Not that she ever had to move far. The crowd of men and quite a few women that engulfed Andréa grew in reverse proportion to the yardage in her gown. Miranda, for her part, held court just left of center, varying her position just sufficiently to keep the young woman in her sites at all times. With each passing event, she found her anger increasing in perfect ratio to the fawning crowd around her Andréa, as her libido escalated proportional to the amount of skin Andréa had on display.
As she took her first steps to descend down the grand staircase, Miranda's eyes sought out Andréa. There, that flash of red, that was her. As if by silent command, the mass of bodies which had turned to watch Miranda's descent, parted slightly to reveal … Miranda froze for a split second, resuming her elegant movements before all but the most knowing became aware. What that small hesitation suggested, the widening of eyes and subtle increase in respiration verified. Miranda's vision narrowed in on the long expanse of bare skin before snapping to observe the lustful gazes of more than one person that even her own entrance couldn't deviate. Glad she had opted to dispense with some frivolous male as escort, Miranda growled low in her throat. Enough! This ended tonight before the world was permitted to look upon more of what should be reserved only for her.
Eyes flashing fire and challenge, Miranda reached the bottom of the stairs and moved to her chosen spot for the night. Banking the fire for the moment, she plastered on a fake smile and greeted those worthy of her notice while keeping Andréa firmly in her sights.
-,-'-
Andy kept one eye on the staircase even as she chatted with several acquaintances. This wasn't a working night for her and she never really understood why she came to these events without being assigned to cover them. When the first dress had arrived a few days prior to attending a charity ball she was assigned to cover, she'd assumed it was from Nigel though she'd only had limited contact with him since leaving Runway. She covered such events periodically since she was one of the few people on staff who had suitable attire hanging in her closet.
With no return address on the box and the courier service refusing to give out that information, she was stuck with the dress whether she wore it or not. She would never openly admit it, but she was thrilled each time because it put her in the same room with the one person she knew she would never forget. Though they never spoke or acknowledged each other in any way, Andy was always aware of Miranda's presence, knowing exactly when the woman arrived and when she left just by the change in the way the atmosphere felt on Andy's skin.
Two weeks later another dress had arrived this time accompanied by an invitation. It wasn't the type of event the Mirror usually covered so Andy really had no reason to go, but something about the whole mystery intrigued her. The fact that Miranda was sure to be there, if only for a short appearance, had little to do with her decision. No, she wasn't attending to see Miranda, but to find out who her mysterious benefactor, or benefactress, was. Once or twice she'd idly wondered if it was Miranda herself, but Andy quickly pushed that thought away. Surely, if Miranda were sending the gowns and invitations, she would have said something by now. Each successive dress was just a bit more risqué than its predecessor, a fact that Andy found intriguing. None were indecent; she would have balked at wearing any that were, they merely put her body on display in progressively more blatant manners.
At the fifth such outing, after a half hour spent in boring conversation with a man who spent the entire time talking to her cleavage which was generously revealed by the black strapless she wore, Andy had decided that would be the last time she spent her evening in this way. That decision vanished a few moments later when she realized that no matter where Andy moved to in the vast room, Miranda was facing her. Deciding to test her theory, Andy moved behind several tall men and used them for cover to work her way several feet from where she had just been standing. She struck up a conversation with someone she had interacted with during her tenure at Runway while keeping one eye on Miranda. Sure enough in less than a minute Miranda had subtly shifted so that Andy was once again in Miranda's direct line of sight over the shoulder of whomever she happened to be conversing with at the moment.
Thrilled with the knowledge she had obtained, for the first time Andy left prior to Miranda's exit. She needed time to think about what she had just learned and what it might mean. After a restless night, she'd convinced herself that it was merely a fluke. Miranda really hadn't been keeping an eye on her, or had she? When the next dress arrived several days later, Andy decided to put her theory to a real test. At the subsequent gala she stayed on the move, pausing here and there to speak with people in passing, each time checking on Miranda only to find the woman consistently orienting herself in Andy's direction. So it had begun. Andy had Miranda's attention and though she had not previously known she wanted it, she now basked in the knowledge. Having Miranda's eyes on her throughout the evening made her feel special, somehow sexier and more intriguing.
As if she wore a sign above her head that said "You should want me because Miranda looks at me," others began to notice and were drawn to the beautiful young woman who practically oozed sex appeal and vivaciousness. Andy's circle of acquaintances began to grow and along with the increased attention came tips on stories once an admirer learned of her occupation. Andy never moved beyond the periphery of the room, didn't stray into the center where the power players mixed. That was Miranda's territory and Andy didn't encroach. No, Andy stayed amongst those who greased the wheels for the movers and shakers. She found that though these assistants and middle executives were hesitant to offer up their own immediate superiors to gain her favor, they had no such qualms about opening the closets of someone else's and dragging skeletons into the light. Subsequently, Andy broke quite a few headline grabbing stories by diligently researching the tidbits she gleaned. With her by-line appearing with increasing frequency on page one, the sharks that prowled the center of each event's sea of humanity began to take notice and were drawn to the edges in search of the provocative beauty that seemed to always be in the know. So Andy's sphere of influence widened, her quotes came from higher and higher sources which thrilled her editor and increased her stature at The Mirror.
Through it all, Andy kept a close eye on Miranda. She smiled at her and flirted in a light manner that could as easily be seen as an overture of friendship as it could a deliberate acknowledgement of interest. Though she never once got an answering response from Miranda, Andy noticed that as her circle of admirers grew Miranda's plastic smile became increasingly false and brittle. That knowing sent tingles down Andy's spine. Whatever else Miranda Priestly might be, she wasn't indifferent to one Andy Sachs.
Andy hugged that knowledge to her and began a campaign to get Miranda to acknowledge her openly. She didn't expect Miranda to leave the center, but rather, Andy wanted to be invited in. So she flirted and flaunted and wore each dress with an air of entitlement that only a woman confident in her beauty and appeal could manage. She put as much strain on Miranda's willpower as she could manage. Andy almost thought she had Miranda at the last event, but just when she thought she saw signs of Miranda breaking, a faint tremor to her hands, a certain tightness around her mouth, the woman left abruptly.
Opening the box on tonight's dress, Andy knew she had her. Tonight Andy would stalk Miranda with every weapon available in her arsenal and as Miranda began her descent of the grand staircase, Andy made sure she would get the full effect of tonight's gown when Miranda's gaze turned her way as it always did. Avidly watching, Andy caught the slight hesitation and felt the sear of that blue fire. Oh, yes, tonight Andy Sachs would have what she wanted.
