Chapter 10
The worst, most unimaginable thing occurred that Wednesday. The press had gotten a hold of some rather interesting, if not incriminating photos of Miranda. They were plastered everywhere from online blogs to juicy gossip magazines.
It had not been the employees of Runway who had brought it to Miranda's attention, nor her driver, or any of her press informants. No, it had been her own two daughters who came running and bounding into their mother's room, Caroline's pink MacBook in her hand as they jumped onto their mother's bed, waking her from a restless night of sleep. "Mom!" Cassidy cried, gently shaking her.
"What?" Miranda frowned, suddenly coming out of sleep, turning onto her back, rubbing her eyes. "What is it, girls?" She hadn't been awakened like this since her second divorce had been tossed around in the media and some interesting pictures of her and Henry had surfaced.
"Look!" Caroline held her MacBook open, sitting it on top of her mother's chest.
It took Miranda's eyes several minutes to focus, but when the picture finally came into view she could hardly breathe.
"Mommy, when did this happen?" Cassidy frowned at her mother.
"Why did they take that picture of you; are you smoking?" Caroline was once again scrutinizing the picture, trying to make out what exactly it was that her mother was doing and trying to register who her mother was with.
"I really wish you wouldn't look me up on the internet." It was the only response Miranda could think of to make. She was absolutely furious, but she wouldn't take it out on her babies.
"Mom!" Caroline protested, attempting to explain that it had popped up, but Miranda didn't want to hear it.
"Girls, it's not what it looks like, I promise." She didn't feel the need to explain herself, her actions. After all she was the adult, they were the children. She pulled herself out of the bed and into her bathroom. A quick shower might clear her mind, but she realized she would have a lot of work to do that day. A lot of covering for herself. She was going to kill Irv.
"…caught kissing after a romantic dinner…" she heard her girls reading the article. Hadn't she told them to stop, to ignore it?
She really needed to keep an eye on herself. She sometimes forgot she was always being watched, monitored. She forgot she couldn't trust anyone.
When she finally emerged from a hot shower, she pulled on a smart outfit for the day, made final touches to her face, and returned to her bedroom where the girls were still mesmerized by the different articles they'd come up with.
"Who is this person?" Caroline dared to ask.
"Caroline, that is none of your business. You will never meet that person, I will see to it that you never, ever meet that person. Your mother was set up, that is all there is to it. Okay, girls?"
The girls looked at one another and then nodded.
"Now, stop looking at that trash and go get ready for school before I take your computer away from you." Miranda instructed, trying to keep her rage from her children.
The girls quickly jumped to and then raced out of her room. She closed the door behind them and then went to her lingerie drawer where she hid a pack of cigarettes. Moving to the window, she opened it and lit a cigarette.
Today was going to be hell all over again.
~*~
The instant Miranda set foot in her office she knew she would have to deal with this situation. She would have to minimize any more press and make sure that the supplier got a good lawsuit slapped on him. Though she knew who the real snitch was, she wouldn't turn it into a big deal. She would play nice, because that was exactly what he didn't want her to do.
When he had the gull to walk into her office that morning and slam Page Six, with incriminating photo, on to her desk, she almost smacked him.
"Jacqueline wouldn't have brought us such horrible press." He had the nerve to utter.
"Jacqueline wouldn't be smart enough to see it as bad press. Tell me, Irv, how much did you get out of this little picture? Hmm?" She bore in to him.
"Enough to pay for next month's issue and the one after that." He boldly admitted to his wrongs. "You'd better watch your back, Ms. Priestly."
Miranda had the mind to snap back, but she knew that she would get her revenge soon enough. She angrily flinched at Irv's retreating form, as if she were about to pounce at him, and then calmly went back to e-mailing her attorney.
The one thing she did not want to do was make the phone call she was about to make.
She made sure that prying ears and eyes were not around before she picked up her phone. She moved to her furthest window and dialed the familiar number.
She didn't expect anyone to answer, and when she got the machine she decided it was better than nothing. She hated doing this, she'd never lowered herself this low for anyone else; but she was worth it. Miranda could feel it in her bones, her body.
"…leave a message after the beep…" her voice was so pure, so childlike. Miranda hated her, yet envied her a little. She could be so careless…Miranda on the other hand had to watch every step.
"I know you saw it, how could you not see it? But I just want to go on the record and say that I told you what happened before this surfaced. And everything that happened last night is real and true, and I don't…It should not have happened. Sorry."
She hung up. The sorry had almost been inaudible and she knew the message was weak. And the unsaid words I don't want to lose you again had been too hard to articulate. Even harder to say was the backbone and reason for the message.
I care about you.
Miranda wasn't sure what she would do if the girl never contacted her again.
She supposed she would go on living. She would find someone else…
…but it would never be the same.
She had to make things right. She just had to.
~*~
Andrea had seen it. She wasn't blind. It was everywhere.
She felt humiliated.
Humiliated to have believed that this icon, this fashion goddess, or devil, could ever return her feelings of unabashed love.
There she was, beautiful as ever, maybe even a bit more beautiful because of her relaxed expression, leaning drunkenly against the most handsome man Andrea had ever seen in her life. He was gorgeous, nothing like Andrea's boring, scraggly figure. His face seemed chiseled out of stone; Andrea's own looked rather plan. Of course Miranda would sleep with this gorgeous man. Of course. Why had Andrea thought otherwise?
But that kiss…the previous night at Torre di Pisa. Oh God that kiss.
But Miranda had fucked up. And it had taken the early morning light to show Andrea the truth. Miranda needed to get erased from her life. And these pictures of the silver-haired woman with a one Mr. Clinton Russell just punctuated the need for her to get away.
And as Andrea stood in line at the local bakery, waiting to get her hands on a bagel and a warm cup of coffee before heading off to work, she felt her phone beginning to vibrate.
She quickly reached into her purse, wondering if it was her boss over at The Mirror. However, when she got to her phone and turned it right side up, she realized it was not from her boss. It was from her former boss.
Miranda.
Miranda was calling her. Wonderful. What could she possibly have to say?
Andrea didn't want to know. She didn't want to talk to the woman. She never wanted to see her again.
She tossed the phone back into her purse after silencing it and stepped up to order.
~*~
Once at work, Andrea sat down and got to work. She had several articles to research for that day and she didn't need any further distractions. But when her hand grazed her cell phone in her search for Chap Stick, she flipped it open, noting a new voice message.
Pathetic. She decided. Miranda was pathetic. She wasn't going to listen to that message. Nope.
~*~
The voice message sat restlessly in the corner of the phone's screen, waiting to be checked. It sat just as the huge pain sat in Andrea's stomach.
It was at the back of her mind as she typed, researched, pulled files, made phone calls.
All morning that message annoyed her.
She wasn't going to listen to it.
~*~
Her lunch break came around. She grabbed her purse and her phone. But upon seeing that ugly purple symbol, suggesting she had a voice message, she sat the phone down on the counter and decided to leave without it.
She hoped she didn't get kidnapped because she wouldn't have a phone.
~*~
When she returned from her break, the message, mysteriously, was still there.
~*~
She couldn't keep this up! She couldn't concentrate and have that message sitting on her phone.
She finally gave in. During a quick break to walk around the corner for more coffee, she pulled out her phone. She pressed 1 for voicemail. She typed in her four digit code. She waited as the annoying operator voice monotonaly dictated that she had one new message and four saved messages that would be erased in fourteen days. She nervously paced back and forth in front of the bistro she had just walked out of, fresh coffee in hand. Her fingers taped nervously against the cup.
She nearly fell down when Miranda's voice sounded on the other end.
"I know you saw it, how could you not see it? But I just want to go on the record and say that I told you what happened before this surfaced. And everything that happened last night is real and true, and I don't…It should not have happened."
And what sounded like a muted sorry completed the message.
Andrea didn't know what to feel. The woman was really eaten up by this. She really wanted her to know how sorry she was and how much she meant to her. But why? How could Miranda possibly want her so much?
And what had Miranda been about to say? 'I don't…' what? Why couldn't she just say what she wanted?
Andrea hated how frustrating and infuriating the woman was. She could never just say what she was really feeling. Only a few times had she ever actually opened up, and it had been a scarce few.
Feeling more confused than ever, Andrea returned to her work.
A week. She was sticking to a week.
Perhaps in a week things would be different.