Chapter 4

Two days. Two days to discover what Andrea likes, what interests she has, what type of gift would prove thoughtful. This was an opportunity to make her smile, to make her happy without having to deal with any awkwardness that might be attached to a gift given by an employer to her assistant. Miranda had dreaded the whole Secret Santa silliness until she found out that Andrea was to be the recipient. But what could she get the silly girl?

She obviously had no time for hobbies, and although her fashion sense had improved substantially, Miranda was aware that it was not and never would be her passion. Perhaps more casual clothes? Something comfortable? She seemed to like the wool scarf and leather gloves...Miranda was rather proud of herself with how she had given those gifts to Andrea so naturally. No doubt the girl would love a pair of Uggs, too. Miranda grimaced.

Striding out of the elevator, Miranda spouted off a list of details that needed to be attended to. Andrea scribbled furiously, nodding her head as Miranda settled in her chair. She studied Andrea, noticing the thigh-high Chanel leather boots, the draping costume jewelry, and the lines of the blouse that showcased a very becoming form. Not the fat, smart girl, then. Not fat at all. Not a girl. Smart though. Extremely smart.

"That's all," Miranda said slowly, watching with interest as Andrea left quickly. Running a finger over her lower lip, Miranda let her mind wander. She would get to the work soon enough. Right now, she decided to focus on what she knew about Andrea.

She was single. Kind. Intelligent. Quick. Determined. Hard-working. Turning slightly in her chair, Miranda opened her lower desk drawer and withdrew Andrea's employee file. Miranda looked at the resume and writing samples with new eyes. Andrea was a writer. A storyteller. A puzzle solver. An idealist. A champion of the weak. Smirking, Miranda put the paperwork away.

She had some ideas now but not much time to implement them. No matter. She was Miranda Priestly. Anything was possible. As far as the fifty-dollar limit—ridiculous and worth ignoring.

A smile tugged at her lips as she thought of the teas she received from her Secret Santa. English teas. No doubt from Emily. A thoughtful gift. Most years she received Starbucks coffee, cups, or gift cards. Easy. But Emily had put some thought into the gift.

Although this week's schedule was light, she still needed to attend a luncheon date with Donatella today. In the meantime, she needed to get Andrea out of the office so she could make some calls to arrange for her Secret Santa gift. "Andrea."

Arriving with an attentive look, Andrea looked ready to do anything, if Miranda so asked.

"I need those skirts for Monday's shoot, the spring Chanel accessories, and a present for Irving," Miranda allowed her distaste for the little man to color her voice and watched with some amusement as Andrea tried to hide her smirk. "And coffee for when I return from lunch. That's all."

"Of course, Miranda. I've confirmed your lunch reservations for 1:00 PM. Roy will be ready for you at 12:30," Andrea said before turning away, intent on fulfilling Miranda's demands.

Nodding, Miranda waited until Andrea left the office before demanding Emily get Adam Moss on the line.

"Adam. How are you?"

"I am doing well. It's been a while since we last spoke," Adam said.

"Yes, it has. Time marches on whether or not we approve," Miranda agreed.

"How are you handling the press on your divorce? Are you okay, Miranda?" Adam asked.

Miranda was touched by his honest concern but chose to make light of the situation. "Oh, please! Rupert Murdock should write me a check for all the papers I sell for him. I am fine, I assure you."

"Well, I know a fabulous single man who would love to meet you," Adam said.

"No, no. I have no interest in meeting a nice man," Miranda quickly interrupted.

"Well then, I know a wonderful lady…"

"Or a nice woman, for that matter," Miranda said firmly, putting an end to that line of conversation. "And how is dear Daniel?"

"He's working hard. It's a miracle we both have the long weekend off. If I have my way, we won't leave the house," Adam chirped.

Chuckling, Miranda imagined that they would hole themselves up, taking pleasure in the precious time they had together. She knew that she would do the same with her loved ones. Her darling daughters would be with her all weekend. She thought of Andrea, her beautiful face-deep brown eyes she could fall into, full lips, flushed cheeks, silky locks.

"Adam, I have a favor to ask of you, but I must insist that she not know this came from me. I believe you are short one freelance writer, and I happen to know of an up-and-coming writer whose style would serve your magazine well," Miranda began.

"Really? Who?"

"Andrea Sachs. She is one of my assistants, but I believe the topics she gravitates toward will not fit as well with Runway. I'd like for you to extend an offer to her to submit content. Will you?" Miranda asked.

"Of course. If you think she has talent, then I'm game. Give me her information, and I'll contact her tomorrow."

"Wonderful! I'll owe you," Miranda said, knowing that a promise of a favor from her would be valuable currency for Adam. And it was done. A Secret Santa gift Andrea would love, something that would propel her forward doing what she loved. Since she would not know it was a Secret Santa gift, though, Miranda would have to give her another gift.

But first she had a lunch to get to.

Two hours later Miranda entered her office to find a wrapped gift on her desk. Another Secret Santa gift? Eyebrows raised, she tilted her head as she rounded her desk, eyes glued to the object. It was an odd shape, and poorly wrapped. She could hear Emily on the phone and Andrea typing away. Refocusing on the gift, Miranda took a moment to appreciate the wrapping paper—navy with silver ornaments across it—before carefully removing it. She gasped at what she saw. Copper-colored, smooth, polished metal formed in the shape of two women intertwined. Exquisite. Exceptional. Erotic.

Who is my Secret Santa? This was not from Emily. No. Perhaps Serena? She was a sensual woman, well-versed in appearances and art. Yet, she would not have sent her tea. It was puzzling. Running her finger over the statue, she took time to appreciate the artist's technique. Lifting it up, she noticed a small placard taped to the bottom with the artist's information and a title for the work: Infinite Connections. Smiling softly, Miranda decided she would have to find out more about this artist. She certainly showed promise.

The rest of the day passed quickly. By the time she left Runway, it was snowing. Small snowflakes came down quickly, covering the roads enough to make them slick. The city looked new and pure. Roy navigated efficiently through the city and deposited her without incident while she wondered how Andrea would react to Adam's call tomorrow.

Entering her home, Miranda heard her children running down the stairs like a herd of wild elephants and winced. No matter how many times she told them, they could not seem to contain their exuberance when greeting her. Truthfully, she hoped they would always be so happy to see her. "Girls, how was your day?"

"Great. Cara took us shopping for presents. And then we went ice-skating in Central Park," Caroline said with excitement as Miranda shed her outerwear.

"That sounds wonderful, Bobbsey. And what will you do tomorrow?" she asked as they walked into the kitchen. She nodded toward the cook as she poured a glass of water for herself.

"We were going to wrap everything and then decorate the house. Except the tree. We want to do that with Andy," Cassidy said.

Surprised, Miranda looked at her two girls. "Why is that?" Usually they trimmed the tree together on Christmas Eve.

"Well, she won't be here on Sunday, and she has no tree or anything to decorate," Caroline said.

"How do you know?" Miranda asked, her brow furrowing.

"We texted her about Friday. She said she didn't have a tree, and since she was living alone it didn't make sense to get one. But, we think she really wanted one, so we're gonna share," Caroline said.

"Going to," Miranda automatically corrected.

"Going to," Caroline repeated.

"I bet she grew up with real trees. Maybe next year we can get a real tree too, Mom," Cassidy said. "I know they're messy, but they smell nice," she added.

"Yes, Bobbsey, they do smell nice," Miranda said absently. It occurred to her that Andrea was going to spend Christmas entirely alone with no decorations, no tree, no family, no boyfriend, no one. Miranda felt her chest tighten. Andrea, such a tenderhearted, sweet woman, alone for the holidays. Unacceptable! She deserved so much more.

Throughout dinner and while she watched a movie with her daughters, Miranda thought of Andrea, of how she had changed and matured during the course of their association. She was no longer naive and untried. She had become a valuable part of Miranda's team, but more than that, she had developed into a more thoughtful, sophisticated woman. Someone worth knowing.

Tomorrow would be a light day for Miranda, no meetings, lunches, or run-throughs. The next issue was well on its way, and many took off the week between Christmas and New Year. Even she had blocked out next week to devote to her family. And what would Andrea be doing? Miranda could not recall approving any days off for her assistant. In fact, she could only remember Andrea requesting one day off, months ago while Miranda was at a shoot on location in Florida. Her father was in town, and Miranda had ended up contacting her anyway when she was unable to fly back in time for her daughters' piano recital. Andrea had only asked for that afternoon off—not even a full day.

Making her take some vacation days would be the right thing to do, but the thought of not seeing the woman made Miranda feel a bit anxious. Perhaps if she took the same days off as Miranda was taking? And of course, she could still contact her. Andrea would take her calls. She always did. Except that one day when she had walked away in Paris. She had watched Andrea throw her phone into the fountain. But she had come back, and Miranda had arranged for a new phone to be in her hotel room by the time she had returned.

Shaking off those thoughts, Miranda looked out her window at the snow. Paris had been tough for many reasons. The attempted coup, the divorce papers, Andrea's temporary desertion. Andrea had surprised her. Her attempts to warn Miranda had impressed her, reinforced her belief that there was more to the woman than originally believed. Miranda had underestimated her. Yet, it became apparent during that trip that Andrea did not give up easily when her mind was made up. It begged the question, then, as to why she had left, why she had been ready to give up Runway, the dreams of becoming a writer, and her. And although she had received a partial answer when she had asked directly why Andrea had returned, she knew there was more to it. If Miranda were so terrible in her eyes, why stay?

And that's what it came down to—why did Andrea stay? Was it fear that Miranda would blackball her within the publishing industry? Was it due to her own innate stubbornness? Her unwillingness to quit when she had not learned everything she needed to know to succeed within the industry? Or was it more personal?

Turning back toward the room, her eyes fastened on her newly-gifted statue, now situated on a side table near the fireplace in her personal sitting room. This was one of her favorite rooms, and the artwork blended perfectly. It was as if the gift-giver had been in this room before. Miranda could count on her fingers who at Runway had spent time in this room. Not many.

Not Emily. Not Serena. So, neither could be her Secret Santa. Perhaps Nigel. Or Andrea.

Andrea.

How interesting that all roads seemed to lead to Andrea.

Hearing the front door open and close, Miranda smiled faintly. She could hear her girls hurrying to the stairs, intent on talking to her assistant. She gave them a few minutes before making her presence known and sending her girls back to their rooms.

"Andrea, this way," Miranda said before returning to the sitting room. Idly, she thought about Andrea's comment that she liked Jamaican coffee. She would make sure she had the right ingredients for Friday. Miranda opened a bottle of red wine, Cabernet this time. Andrea had not cared for the Pinot Noir. Perhaps the fuller, more complex texture of the Cabernet would do. She handed a full glass to Andrea before sitting in her favorite chair.

"Thank you," Andrea said, and Miranda nodded. "I, I probably shouldn't stay long. The snow is really coming down, and I don't like the idea of Roy waiting for me. It's getting really slippery outside."

Miranda felt a pang of disappointment. She knew Andrea was right. "Andrea, it has come to my attention that you have yet to take any time off throughout the course of your tenure except for one half day. Since I will be taking next week off to be with my girls, there will be no need for both you and Emily to work. So, it's settled. You will take your vacation time next week."

"What? But, but I have nowhere to go," Andrea sputtered.

"Why must you go somewhere? Use it to be a tourist, to sleep late, to clean, to write. Take some time for yourself while Runway is relatively calm, before the next set of fashion shows begins," Miranda said impatiently.

"But, what if you need something next week?" Andrea persisted.

Miranda raised her eyebrows. She wants to work in case I suddenly think of something that must be done? "Believe it or not, Runway was able to function before you arrived. Emily is quite capable, and she has adapted to getting around on her crutches well enough that she can complete errands around town without taking the entire day," Miranda said in a no-nonsense voice.

"Oh. Um. Okay. Thanks. I, yeah, I am sure I will find something to do," Andrea said and sipped the wine. Her face lit up, and she took a larger sip. "This tastes great."

Smirking, Miranda tasted the wine, too, satisfied with the quality and complexity of the wine. "It is acceptable." She gazed at the brunette. "Finish up so you can go. I need you both to get home safely. Tomorrow will be more about tying up loose ends, and since we will both be on vacation next week, we will want to prepare accordingly." She watched as Andrea took two large sips and placed the empty glass on the side table.

Following Andrea to the door, she noticed the amount of snow that had fallen and sighed. "Wait." Andrea gave her a confused look but obediently stood in the hallway while Miranda reached into a rarely used closet and pulled out a bag, handing it to Andrea. She nearly smiled at Andrea's incredulous look as she pulled out a pair of Uggs. "You will ruin those Chanel boots in the snow. Wear those."

"Th-thanks!"

Miranda watched as Andrea switched out the boots, and she was glad she had made the decision to have the boots delivered to her home today instead of to the office tomorrow. They were to be a Secret Santa gift, but she had another idea to fulfill that obligation.

"Miranda," Andrea began, and the soft look in her eyes made Miranda's breath hitch. Her heart began beating faster as the beautiful woman stepped into her space, a warm hand resting on her forearm. "Thank you. This was so thoughtful. And unexpected. I've begun to recognize just how thoughtful you are. Like with the scarf and the gloves, and now these boots and the vacation time. I realize you have your reasons for making everything seem coincidental and unimportant, but they are important to me, and I know you put some thought into these gestures." Miranda felt Andrea's hand squeezing her own just as soft lips grazed her cheek, and the whispered thanks so close to her ear took her breath away.

As Andrea stepped away, Miranda felt the irrational urge to pull her back. She liked feeling the woman close to her. It felt exciting and comforting. Instead she stared wordlessly as Andrea gave a little wave and left, Chanel boots tucked under one arm in the bag the Uggs had come in.

Smiling foolishly at nothing, she did not realize her girls had joined her.

"Did Andy just leave?" Cassidy asked, stirring Miranda out of her stupor.

"Yes, dear," Miranda answered as she locked the front door and turned off the hallway lights. "Let's go upstairs, shall we? We can pull out the decorations for Friday so that you will have more time for trimming the tree with Andrea."

"Yay! Does she know? Did you tell her? We didn't say anything yet," Cassidy said.

"No, I will bring it up tomorrow," Miranda said as they made their way up to the top floor where they stored the Christmas decorations.

"Did you get her a gift?" Caroline asked. "We bought her some art books, but we can sign it from all of us."

Smiling at the gesture, Miranda said, "I did get her something, so you do not need to sign my name. Thank you, though, darling. That is very thoughtful of you. What kind of art books did you get her?"

"On Michelangelo and some of the other Renaissance artists. She likes statues and paintings like that. She gave us some tips on them last month for our school project," Cassidy said. "What did you give her? Clothes?"

Smirking, Miranda nodded. "As a matter of fact, I did. A scarf, some gloves, and warm boots."

"All designer, I bet!" Caroline teased.

"What do you think?" Miranda said sarcastically, smiling as they giggled.

They found the boxes of decorations quickly and brought them to the living room where the artificial tree was set up near the front window. "I wish you could help, too," Cassidy said softly.

"You know I have to go to the work party, but I will return home as quickly as I can," Miranda promised.

"How come Andy doesn't have to go but you do?" Caroline whined.

"She's lucky and can be excused, but I cannot," Miranda said ruefully. "Now, why don't we wrap Andrea's gifts so that they will be ready for tomorrow?" With hearty shouts of approval, they ran to their rooms to retrieve the books. With another smile, Miranda admitted to herself that Andrea had somehow won over the twins. And her.