Notes: Mention of main character's death. Quick reminder though, my stories always have a happy ending.

Three

"We are running around in circles here, Andrea. I've already told you – exactly five times in the last ten minutes - that I have no desire to participate in your little project."

"And I told you just as many times, that you have to."

"I don't have to do anything I don't want to. One of the perks of being me.

"Now you are just being a snob."

"I'll gladly take that if it means you stop bothering me with this absurdum."

"Miranda. You took the book and with that the responsibility of fulfilling those wishes and dreams."

"That's nonsense. I have my own "Book" to handle."

"What happened with the, and I'm quoting, 'Come and find me. I believe I can help with that list some more'?"

"That was a very different situation."

"Different? How?"

"Just different. Now let it go."

"You can't just shut me down like this, Miranda. I deserve an explanation."

"I'm not going to explain myself, Andrea. One last time. Forget it. I am not going to do it."

"WHY?"

"Because…Because you were alive then, damn it. Now every time I look at that journal my heart breaks, it's a constant reminder of your death. I should have left it there."

"I should have left that bloody book there." Miranda murmured. "Or I shouldn't have gone there period."

Miranda was exhausted both physically and emotionally. Sleep didn't come easy last night and what little she maintained was restless. She heard the girls arguing on their way rumbling down the stairs. The faint noise of sirens down the street. The impatient horns of the cars held up by the garbage truck. Monday morning. She hated Mondays.

48 hours earlier

"Emily. Coat. Bag."

Miranda's first assistant Emily exchanged glances with the second assistant, noting the bewildered expression on the young girl's face. The editor arrived at the office five minutes ago and according to her schedule was supposed to stay there until ten am. Emily checked the digital calendar and scanned through her notes, but could not detect any appointment or event that would have required Miranda to leave. Emily did not like the unpredictable. Sudden changes in Miranda's program made her anxious. When she was anxious she became extremely hungry, but she couldn't satisfy her hunger or she would compromise her main objective, staying size zero. Hunger increased anxiousness and it felt like being stuck in a loop. But it wasn't just all about that. It also bugged her, when she did not know what was going on with Miranda. Like now. Out of nowhere, cancelling her day. Wait. Cancel? Everything?

"Emily. If completing this simple task is beyond your depth, maybe you should start looking for another job."

Miranda breezed out of the door not wasting any more time on her useless assistant.

Some might argue but Miranda Priestly had the patience of a saint. Well not quite and definitely not in areas related to work, but still. When needed she was capable of waiting, not rushing things. She waited almost a month before she decided that enough was enough. She had to see that girl again. Their bathroom encounter that ended with a kiss – the sweetest one ever- affected her deeply, no matter how hard she was trying to hide, even deny it. Getting the girl's phone number and address was easy enough, she had both the following day. She was quite certain, that Andrea was going to contact her as soon as she figured out who Miranda was. Days came and went. Nothing. What was that girl thinking…making her wait? Was she playing some kind of game? Or maybe she was waiting for Miranda to affirm her interest? At the end of the second week she called the girl. It went right to voicemail. As did the second, third and the fourth attempts. Andrea never called back. Now on the one month mark Miranda was about to make either the worst or the best decision of her life. She was heading to Andrea's apartment. The newly renovated four story apartment building situated in a quiet, dead end street, not far from Miranda's town house. A huge U-Haul was blocking the road but luckily she found an empty spot, opposite the entrance. She hurried inside before she could change her mind. Entering the hall she was almost run over by two rugged looking men, who were dragging a massive Steinway baby grand piano. One of them lost balance and the piano hit the wall. The men did not seem to care about the damage they had caused and continued to manhandle the antique piece.

"Barbarians." thought Miranda. No doubt, the workers had no idea how much their cargo was worth. "So sad."

Miranda ignored the old lady standing at the elevator. She never engaged in conversation with strangers and she did not intend to start it now. The old lady had a different idea and tried again, clearly addressing Miranda.

"Poor girl."

"Excuse me?"

"The girl. From the loft on the top floor. She played the piano so beautifully."

Miranda didn't bother to answer, she pressed the button again, wishing the elevator would speed up. It arrived, the doors slid open, revealing boxes and a clothes rack, full of clothes.

"Wonderful." Miranda turned to take the stars, when something caught her attention. There was an uncovered basket, filled with shoes and on the top there it was. A bright pink journal, peppered with shiny crystals. Andrea's bucket list.

"Her friends are moving her out." The old lady said. "So sad. Everybody loved her here."

"Who?"

"The pianist. The one who died last month."