Chapter Nine
The next few weeks passed much the same, except with Andy making the phone calls every now and then. Andy's phone interviews with the publications in San Francisco and Indianapolis didn't pan out, and the independent LA paper she interview with just couldn't seem to get past the fact that she was willing to take a pay cut from her swanky government job.
By August, Andy had three interviews scheduled in New York, all back-to-back on a Friday, which she suspected Miranda had something to do with. She took a long weekend off work, and made arrangements to fly out Thursday morning. That way, she would have time to get settled before her early morning interview on Friday.
Of course, when Miranda learned of her plans, she insisted she stay the weekend with her at the townhouse. It simply wasn't up for discussion. Miranda would not let her spend her money on a hotel when she had four perfectly suitable spare bedrooms. It was the girls' week with their father, so they wouldn't even be home until Sunday evening when Andy would be on her flight back to Los Angeles.
Miranda took Thursday afternoon off and arranged to work from home on Friday (and Saturday, if needed). In all honesty, she was looking forward to spending time face-to-face with the young woman, but wanted to keep "work" as a back-up in the event that Andy had other plans, or if it was just too much, seeing her in person.
She called her several times Thursday morning, reminding her that she would have her car and driver waiting at the airport. Miranda debated whether or not to ride to LaGuardia with Roy, and finally decided to instead wait for Andy at the townhouse.
It was a good decision—taking the afternoon off. Even though Andy's flight wasn't scheduled to land until early evening, the editor spent the afternoon nervously pacing the hallways, checking that everything was set in the guest room, that her refrigerator was well-stocked, and that she had some extra clothes in the young woman's size just in case. That was actually easier to fulfill than she had expected. It seems there weren't many young women on her staff fighting over the size four or six clothes, especially the classic, simple wardrobe staples she knew the detective to favor.
Promptly, at 6:35 PM, Andy called Miranda to tell her that she was safely tucked into the backseat of the town car and would be arriving shortly. She was starving, and if it wasn't for Miranda's text message from earlier, promising lasagna and garlic bread, she would have been asking Roy to stop at the nearest McDonald's. She hoped Miranda wasn't the type to put a giant plate in front of her with some fancy presentation and like two square inches of food. She would certainly need more nourishment before her interviews.
Back at the townhouse, Miranda was anxiously waiting in the foyer, peering out the window. Her palms were sweaty and she knew there was nothing she could do to slow the beating of her heart. She was nervous, plain and simple. She checked and triple-checked herself in the mirror. She was wearing a cobalt blue knit summer dress and her pearl necklace, paired with casual white heeled sandals. Hair and makeup were impeccable—she went for understated, with a little lighter eye makeup than her usual evening look.
Today would be the first time Andy truly saw Miranda Priestly. The first time she saw her with makeup, with her hair styled, with fitted clothing, without bruises, and without tear-stained cheeks and puffy red eyes. Miranda took a deep breath and forced herself to exhale through her mouth. She was worried that she wouldn't live up to the image the young woman had of her.
Before she could let her mind wander down that road, she heard a car door close out front. She took a deep breath and slowly cracked the door open.
"Thanks, Roy, I've got it," Andy said, taking her small travel suitcase that he had just lifted out of the trunk. "Am I supposed to ring the doorbell?"
"No need. She's there. The door's open," he said.
Andy looked up the stairs, then back at Roy. It didn't look like the door was open.
"She doesn't bite—especially not you," Roy said with a chuckle. "Go on. She's been waiting for you all afternoon."
With that, Andy smiled and made her way up the steps. Sure enough, when she reached the top, the door cracked open before she could even lift her hand to knock. She carefully stepped inside and set her luggage down gently on the hardwood floor. "Hello?" she called.
Miranda slowly pushed the door shut and stood inches away from the young woman.
"Oh, hi," Andy said, smiling brightly and looking around the foyer.
"Andrea," Miranda said, reaching her hand out and touching the young woman's arm. Their eyes met for a split second, and Miranda immediately threw her arms around the woman's shoulders, burying her face in her neck as she squeezed her tight.
"You're really here, aren't you?" she whispered.
Andy felt the woman's breath against her neck and gently pushed her away just far enough so she could look in her eyes. "Yes, I'm really here, Miranda," she said.
"Oh god, I must look like a mess," Miranda said, turning and lifting her hand in front of her face. She blinked several times and looked up to the ceiling in an attempt to keep from crying.
"No, no. It's fine," she said, reaching down and taking Miranda's hands. "You look beautiful."
Miranda softly bit her lip as she blushed at the unexpected compliment.
Andy's stomach growled loudly, punctuating the awkward silence. "So, what's this you say about lasagna and garlic bread?" she asked.
Miranda smiled again and looked up at the young woman. "In the kitchen—follow me," she said.
TBC
A/N: decided to give you all two chapters today since i missed posting yesterday. :)
