Title: That Summer

Author: EllieWrites

Disclaimer: I do not own the Devil Wears Prada or the characters but I have taken the liberty of borrowing them for this story. Please forgive any injustice I do to them as I have tried my best to stay true to them.

To all of my DWP Friends: I truly appreciate the reviews, and I must say that they do inspire me to continue. Please take this as it is. I intend to write more, but as I am not a planner I cannot say for sure, for now. Thank you for dealing with me in my indecisiveness.

I can hardly help but roll my eyes at the imbicile from Hermes on the other end of the phone. He must be new as I have never spoken to him before. At the last second he cancelled his morning appointment with Miranda claiming he was ill, and now expects me to fit him in this afternoon. I'm trying with all my patience to explain to him the procedure here, and why this in fact will not be possible. Heather, who finally graduated from Emily to her real name, is overhearing my end of the conversation from her desk opposite me. Fortunately, she is eager to learn and is better than my first choice of a new Emily who barely lasted three weeks.

Francois, is the designer's name from Hermes. He seems to think that Miranda will be at his beck and call, and alter her schedule simply because he is in town from France. He must be kidding himself. Even if he was the Prime Minister of France he would have to schedule an appointment to see Miranda. Regardless, she will be out this afternoon, which he will never know, taking the girls to their grandmother's. I tell him the earliest he will have a chance to see her is tomorrow at 2pm, and I'm doing him a favor granting him that slot. He swears at me in French, which I understand perfectly of course, and then proceeds to hang up on me. I tell Heather what just occurred, and have a laugh about yet another arrogant Frenchman who thinks he can bully a woman, particularly an assistant. Ha!

An hour later I get a call from one of the vice presidents of sales from the US office of Hermes, which is intercepted by Heather but she asks for me and not Miranda. Within seconds Heather transfers me the call, and I'm being apologized to profusely by a woman I met in Paris at the shows. She begs me to put Francois on the schedule for tomorrow even though he fucked up and cancelled this morning. As I'm considering my response I hear Miranda's voice carry from her office. She had heard Heather mention who is calling. She demands that I transfer the call to her phone. I tell Eileen to hold, and put her through.

I hear Miranda greet the VP with the sweetest, fakest voice she can manage. She doesn't let the woman say a word, and tells her to pass a message onto Francois that is in fact a directive to the entire management of Hermes. Miranda makes it clear that next time she is in Paris she will consider having one of her assistants meet with their designer, but in the meanwhile he may want to brush up on his English and French. She says specifically to the woman, "You see Eileen, Andrea is ever so meticulous when it comes to details. She wanted to make sure she understood everything Francois said so she wrote it down for me, at least that what she could make out with his strong accent. I would read it to you Eileen, but what she heard…well…it must be incorrect because no professional," she emphasized this to be clear, "would ever dare say such things during the course of business, and certainly not to anyone in my employ if they expected to do business with Runway." She threw on the sarcasm to finish, "I would advise an English course prior to having him represent Hermes in the US in the future to avoid any confusion…that's all."

I sit back with a smile, and shake my head laughing to myself. Heather is wide eyed at all that has transpired. She thinks I'm a rock star, as she's only been here a few months and is still easily impressed. She has to learn that Miranda answers to nobody, and Miranda's schedule bends only to Miranda, not the other way around. It is the most important task of Miranda's assistant to protect her time, as it is her most valuable asset. That was the only way to keep this ship floating, without constantly having to bail water off of the deck. It was the assistant's job to ensure that Miranda had every opportunity to focus on the most important issues, and on the most important people. If Heather could learn to do that well then she would thrive in this position.

As if on cue Nigel arrives by my desk, tilting his forehead as I'm still giggling. "Siiiiiiixxxxx?" I give him a nod that Miranda is in fact free. He is the only person besides myself actually, who could walk into Miranda's office without notice as long as the door is open.

On the way in he pauses. He leans back and places two fingers on the edge of my desk, turning his head to look back at me said in a low voice, "you can thank me for this later." He then winks at me and walks into Miranda's office, closing the door behind him.

It's been two months since that day in the Hamptons and Miranda and I are going strong aside from the lack of actual time that we spend together outside of Runway. Miranda's divorce went through months ago, before we got together even, but she is nowhere near ready to tell the twins about us. It's too soon. This is too new. There are just too many complications right now to go there.

What we have though seems more real than I ever could have imagined. The first month I tried to protect myself, thinking there was a good chance Miranda would have me a few times for the thrill of it and toss me away. Now, knowing her better I am embarrassed that I even thought that about her. Frankly, it was probably pointless anyway thinking I was protecting myself because I'm over the edge. I was in too deep even before it started.

Sometimes, despite my fifty shades of Miranda, I feel she's even more attached than I am. While I wear my heart on my sleeve, she guards hers in a vault. Despite that she manages to find a way every single day to show me that she's thinking about me. She is about a hundred times more affectionate than I could have dreamed, and I take advantage of it at every opportunity. We are both adamant about being professional and would never dare go near each other at Runway, the lines are very clear, but otherwise when we are together we are lovers. I have the privilege of spending time with the loving, caring, human who is normally disguised behind the Editor's persona.

It's funny actually because she told me that very first Sunday in the Hamptons that she had wanted to take things slowly with all of the flux of the past year, and while I am still her assistant. Miranda had originally planned to wait until I moved on from Runway to explore whether or not her feelings were reciprocated, but when I made the first move in her kitchen she gave in. Nobody had ever been brave enough to touch her, and apparently it was then that she knew. When I think of the numerous times over the past two months that we have discussed our tales of longing, I can't help but smile knowing I was not alone. I'm caught in yet another daydream of that moment when Nigel comes bursting through Miranda's door, and I catch her looking at me through the reflection of the glass as he's leaving. He struts away with a knowing smile on his face, and I can only imagine what he's up to now. I'm just happy that he and Miranda have made peace with each other over the past few months, and aside from lying to him about our relationship he and Miranda are friends once again.

That night Miranda and I have dinner together at the townhouse. It's convenient that I waited for the book, and she had a meeting until late anyhow. Her housekeeper Barbara, and older women in her sixties who has been working for Miranda for more than ten years prepared a meal for us. I walk into the Townhouse, take off my shoes, and leave my bag by the door. I carry the book with me and make my way to the kitchen to find Miranda sitting at the island on a stool in front of her computer with two place settings ready and waiting for us. There is a candle between them and a bottle of wine next to Miranda that she has already started on. She looks up and pushes her computer to the side standing to come and greet me. I almost drop the book as she takes me into her arms for a passionate kiss which seems to continue longer than I had hoped for.

"I've been waiting for this all day," she says to me and I melt once again and can't help but moan in agreement. The kiss ends too soon as I step away for a moment to put the book down, but now that my hands are free I grab her with two hands pulling her body into mine. I kiss her again to show her that I feel exactly the same way, and after another minute we separate and she pours me a glass of wine as we sit to eat. I take the glass from her and take the time finally to really look at her, which I am never comfortable doing at Runway for fear that someone will notice. She allows me this moment as I've told her how it makes me feel and after a second I breathe out and finally say, "hi." We're sitting now and she kisses me again giving a little laugh but I know she likes it.

We fill our plates from the serving dishes, share a few laughs over Francois, and after a few minutes she hits me with a serious, "Andrea, we have something to discuss." Apparently Nigel's visit today had been about me, and my future with Runway. I'm shocked but excited to hear that one of the junior editors was just poached by another publication, and a slot opened up that Nigel though was a good opportunity for me. Leave it to Nigel to be looking out for my well-being. He has always been a good friend, and if not for Nigel I would have never survived the first month let alone over a year now.

Miranda admits to me that she was originally pushing me out the door, particularly when trying to introduce me to other editors, but it was due to her own self-interest. She figured that once I was out of Runway, I was fair game to pursue. During this entire conversation I am in an alternate reality where I am in fact a desirable partner for Miranda Priestly, but I try to set aside this insecurity to focus on what she's saying.

Now she is torn. She tells me I have a lot of potential and I'm a good employee for Runway, but she had imagined I would go elsewhere if we ever got together. The new position would put some distance between us at Runway though which was better. In terms of my future she had to admit it was a great opportunity to move up the ladder quicker than I would by going elsewhere in an entry level position. Shaking her head at herself she tells me that despite the fact it is not ideal for our personal lives, it is the best for me professionally and I should take the job when she allows Nigel to offer it to me. She then asks me what I think about all of it and my mind spins.

I had initially entered Fashion as a fluke. It was that or Auto-Universe, but now it seems I have an opportunity to start a career using Fashion as my launch pad. The idea of working for Runway, even in an entry level position brings me a thrill. It means that Miranda believes I am a capable writer and editor. Runway means the world to her and she would never compromise the magazine for anything. That I know for sure and just knowing she thinks I am capable of this job gives me a flash of confidence.

By the next morning we have decided together that I am going to take the job. We are both fine concealing our relationship for the time being for many reasons, and it makes sense as the next step. Miranda tells me she will miss me as her assistant, but I promise her in return that she can always text me and her coffee will arrive scalding hot in less than eight minutes. I tell her that I will always want to take care of her. I hope she believes me, but I know I still have a long way to go before that sinks in.

As I emerge from Miranda's shower I laugh at how much my life has changed in the past two months. I wrap my hair in a towel and go to grab my bag from downstairs where I left it but Miranda has already laid out clothing on the bed for me. Figures she would have something prepared, just as she hides my spare toothbrush in her bottom drawer. I have to smile at how nice it is on these days when the twins are away and I can stay overnight to imagine life with her and how great it could be if this lasts. My daydream lasts as I dry my hair and make my way downstairs in the new clothes that emerged from some closet somewhere. I walk into the kitchen and find Miranda drinking a hot cup of coffee, probably the third since the one I brought her when we first woke up this morning. I move her hair off of her neck to touch it with my lips, and thank her for the lovely suit. "Yes, well I thought you should look the part this morning when Nigel steals you away from me. For all I knew you brought along some off the rack skirt from, what was that Emily said, the Hideous Skirt Convention was it" Miranda smirks at me and I can't help but start laughing and I put my arms around her. I tell her in my most sarcastic voice, "thanks cupcake, sometimes I'm not sure how I ever survived without you." She grabs my behind and squeezes and as I start to jump she grabs me, kisses me, and I'm lost in the taste that is coffee and Miranda. Sometimes life just can't get any better.