Chapter 10

Miranda rose Wednesday, almost as tired as when she went to bed. She took more time with her make-up to hide the damage of a sleepless night. She checked her email as she drank her coffee. Just a backlog of work.

Miranda reminder herself that this was for the best. It wouldn't be wise to be distracted right now. She had a million things to do and New York Fashion Week began tomorrow. With a final click of her mouse she left for work.

It took her thirty minutes to arrive at work. "Jolene, move my flight from Friday the 14th to Thursday after 9pm. Call the girls and find out where they want to go for dinner. Remind them I'll be flying out to London directly from dinner so choose a place to eat that serves early. NOBU would be acceptable." Miranda tossed her coat at the second assistant. She turned on her pc and opened her email. There was nothing from Andréa.

Lunch came and went. There were no emails. The work day ended and there were no emails. She arrived home at 10, looked over the book, filling the pages with post-its and red ink and there were no emails. Good, she thought to herself. I have a million things to do and I can't be bothered with this now. She went to bed early. First show was at 9.

Thursday dawned bright and cold. The snow had been cleared and everything was perfect. The designers and models were in place. She would be meeting Nigel at The Pavilion right before the show. She had front row seats to the entire circus.

She wished the girls a good day at school, had a second cup of coffee and checked her email. Just to make sure there were no last minute problems. There wasn't. There also weren't any emails from Andréa.

She left the house with a feeling of discontent.

She attended all the shows that day, and the after party for Tadashi Shoji. It was a successful day. She did not check her emails. Instead she headed to bed. There was another full day ahead.

It was 2 am when Miranda got up and opened her email. She had been unable to sleep. There were no emails from Andréa. Despondent she went back to bed. This is what she wanted.

Friday, Saturday and Sunday, Miranda checked her emails in the morning. She checked them after she came home from that days shows, she checked them before bed or she woke up and checked them at night. There weren't any emails from Andréa. On Monday she chastised herself for acting like a love-sick fool. There would be no more checking of emails. They were friends, nothing more and checking her emails every 15 minutes was both absurd and extremely childish. Especially since she drove her away, she reminded herself.

On Monday night, after a long day Miranda finally acknowledged she needed to apologize to Andréa. She missed her banter and the flirting. She found herself staring at the framed photograph, which on Sunday night moved from her study to her bedroom. There had been a number of dreams where Andréa was the main star. The fact she didn't quite remember what she dreamed about, only that she and Andréa were both there, was probably the only thing keeping her sane. And telling herself that she needed to focus but then spending every free minute checking her email was asinine.

Miranda sat down at her desk and turned the pc on. She opened her email account and at the top was an email from Andréa. Miranda clicked on it with a sense of trepidation.

Chère Miranda,

The last email has given me pause. I believe an apology is in order. I had assumed that you enjoyed corresponding with me. I understand that I was too forward. I apologize. I see that I have already taken too much of your time. I understand this is your busiest time of year and I am intruding on it.

Forgive me.

Whatever you use my picture for, I am still glad you have it.

Votre plus grande deception,

Andréa

Miranda let out a small sob before her hand covered her mouth. Your greatest disappointment. That's what she had written. Miranda flicked off the screen hiding those damning words and went to bed. Tomorrow would come. She'll decide on a course of action then.

Miranda slept through the night for the first time in 6 days. The combination of pure exhaustion and crying had worked better than a sleeping pill. She woke up Tuesday morning and felt better, calmer. She got up and dressed before getting a cup of coffee and returning to her study.

She thought about the last week. She had been a mess. Not sleeping, the stress of fashion week and waiting to see if Andréa would respond to that last email, had sent her into overdrive. She hadn't been able to focus and just made herself crazy. Miranda looked at the picture of her girls. She abruptly stood and went back to her room. She grabbed the picture from her nightstand and took it back to her office. She caressed the frame with her finger tips before placing it back on her desk.

She needed to make a decision. She needed to be in Andréa's life, that was obvious after this last week. The question was how. She could just be friends and write an email apologizing and asking her how her day was. Or she could try to be more, to pursue, Miranda searched for the correct label, a relationship of some sort, and she could email an apology and tell her she missed her. Both options had their pluses and the minuses.

Miranda took out a blank piece of paper and divided it in half. She'd make a pros and cons list. The last time she needed one was when she found out that she was pregnant. She had just taken over as Editor-In-Charge and the time had been difficult. The list helped her decide what she wanted. She never regretted the decision, even when she found out there would be two children instead of one.

It was very rare that Miranda needed help figuring out what she needed or wanted but it did happen. This was the easiest way to sort it out. Pros first she decided.

*Andréa was wealthy and wasn't looking to use her to climb higher up the socio-economic ladder.

Yes, she thought, that was quite attractive.

*I find her physically attractive

Miranda thought about that statement. She tapped her pen against her lips. She was 55 now and hadn't felt attracted to anyone since Stephen. If she was being honest with herself, she had stopped being attracted to Stephen long before they divorced.

*She knows me.

Not just Miranda and not just the Editor. She knew Miranda on a deeper level that very few people ever managed. Andréa had seen her at her worst and still accepted her.

*She makes me smile and laugh.

It's sad, she thought, that so few people do this. Her daughter, Donatella, her first husband before he was her husband. Andréa had managed it even while Miranda was angry. She managed to make her grin every time she looked at the picture of her covered in mud.

*She listens when I talk, no matter what it's about.

Her husbands just nodded at her when they thought they should. She could always tell when they were tuning her out. Speaking softly helped because they had to pay attention to hear the social cues but still they weren't hearing her.

*She notices what I'm interested in and when I like something.

Andréa sent a coffee machine because I admired hers once. Stephen took 2 years to figure out that she always threw away the freesias he bought her because she was allergic.

*We share the same taste in decorating.

It seems like a silly reason but she remembers how it was when Stephen moved in. That ugly leather sofa and matching chairs with the oversized TV. He wanted comfy, she remembered his words. He said everything about their house was too perfect. How something could be too perfect when the meaning of perfect was that everything is as it should be.

*She wouldn't embarrass me in front of other people.

Not like Stephen calling my boss little guy in a room full of that "little guy's" employees. Andréa had tack. Jeremy had been worse, caught with his pants around his ankles and a known "working girl" on her knees. She was lucky that police report disappeared and there weren't any photographs.

*She understands the commitments and long hours my job requires.

Miranda looked over the list. 9 things. Going over the pros was making her wonder why she ever settled with Stephen and Jeremy. Shaking her head, she moved on to cons.

*She lives in another country.

It was a big point but she traveled to Europe two months a year for work and there was holidays and vacations. Andréa herself traveled often for work. It's not like they'd move in together. She dated Stephen for 3 years before they discussed marriage.

*Paparazzi would be relentless.

She was royalty and Miranda was the Ice Queen. The headlines almost wrote themselves.

*There could be a host of issues from her and Andréa's.

She thought about that for a moment. No, her job was safe. She drew a line through that. She had an iron clad contract. Andréa, well she wasn't sure what the rules were for same sex dating if you were the Queen of a country.

*Andréa was 25 years younger.

Miranda felt older just reading that sentence.

*She doesn't need me to help her up the socio-economic ladder.

A double edged sword she thought. Miranda would be on equal footing as far as a relationship went.

*Her daughters might not approve.

Although they had never seemed bothered by anyone else's choice of partners there was a difference between someone else and their mom.

*She works long hours and travels frequently.

Another double edged sword. Miranda sighed.

*She has a young daughter.

Miranda sat and looked at that sentence. While she was unsure about wanting to raise any more children at her age she also wasn't planning on moving in or having Andréa move in. Besides Andréa had a nanny. No, she crossed that out. It wasn't a con.

Miranda looked at the lists. 7 cons. But 2 of those cons were also pros.

She didn't write on the list that Andréa was a woman. That didn't bother her. It might shock the people around her to know that Andréa wasn't the first woman she had been attracted to. When she was much younger she met a woman who she could have pursued. But at the time she had just started seeing Jeremy so she hadn't. Honestly the thought of Andréa kissing her was thrilling.

And at that thought, she crumpled the list up and threw it away. If she felt, that even a kiss from Andréa could be thrilling, then she would pursue Andréa. At least as long as Andréa wanted to be pursued. Everything else was manageable barring her daughters but she didn't plan on telling them unless she needed to. Which brought her right back to the beginning. What should she write in the email?

Miranda looked at the time. She picked up her phone.

"Nigel, I won't be at the Tory Burch show. I'll meet you at J. Crew instead."

"Oh, my God. Are the girls okay?"

"They're fine. I just have something I need to do first. That's all." She hung up before he could try to get information from her. Next Jolene.

"Jolene, tell my driver to arrive in 30 minutes. I'll go straight to J. Crew." She clicked her phone shut and pressed compose.

Dear Andréa,

Do not apologize. You have done nothing wrong. I have had a stressful week and took it out on you. I was wrong to do that. I won't promise that I will never do it again but I will try to restrain myself from inflicting my anger on you.

The picture still sits here on my desk. I take great joy in seeing your smile every day. Your impression of a grown up Little Bo Peep is quite endearing.

I've missed your words. Tell me about your week. Tell me about the weather. Tell me anything you want. I have all the time in the world to email with you.

Miranda

Miranda looked at it with a critical eye. Was it too much? Over the top? Maybe, but if she ruined this thing with Andréa before it could become something more than a few emails and an almost kiss… Well it wouldn't be the first time she's sabotaged her own happiness or even a possibility of happiness. She hit send before she could over think it. The car should be outside, she thought as she shut down her pc. It was time to start her work day.

Her missing the first show did little to lighten her work load. The knowledge that she had apologized to Andréa made the day bearable. The clothes today seemed superior to yesterday's offerings, the models prettier, the shows more organized and the designers more risky. Even the starlets who flocked around her seemed more tolerable. Miranda wasn't even upset when she called security to remove a woman who was trying to get those same starlets to pose with her underwear. Miranda didn't know if she was selling them or they were her actual underwear but either way she was ejected from the tent.

The day moved briskly and she was home and in her study by 1030 with the book and a glass of red wine. She checked her email before she began the book. Fourth email from the top, Andréa.

Chère Miranda,

My week? My week has been strangely busy and yet completely desolate. I've missed you too. I felt that maybe I had misread our recent interactions but the last email has cleared that up for me.

The rain has stopped her and turned to snow finally. The ski resorts are up and running. Do you ski? I've mostly downhill skied but last year I went cross-country skiing with Haakon and Mette-Marit from Norway. Have you met them? I know they were at the MET Gala in 2011 and they regularly attend Paris Fashion Week.

They're lovely people. I was invited to go sailing this summer with them but I don't care for boats. Bea was too young for skis but it was fun to pull her behind in a sled.

You have all the time in the world for me Miranda? Should I take you at your word? I feel like I am emailing too often as it is. If I email you every time I think of you, I would never do anything else.

I am glad, as I said before, that you have my picture. I am happier to know it makes you smile than what you claimed it did for you last time.

How's Fashion Week going? Better than last year?

Andréa

Miranda smiled and read it again. She missed me and she is definitely flirting. Miranda decided to write back and work on the book after.

Dear Andréa,

My week had also been empty yet busy. For reasons I am not willing to discuss in an email.

Fashion Week has gone better than last year. But that is not a crowning achievement since last year I believe I told Nigel that the designers had resorted to using rags and shower curtains instead of actual fabric. Most of the craziness that stalks these shows has been surprisingly absent. I'm not sure if I miss it or am grateful for its disappearance. Either way this week has led to an array of wonderful designs and styles. Of course my editors will need to find appropriate places to use them and match them with the right models. Something I'm unsure they are capable of doing at the moment but I have hope.

And if they can't well then I will hope that their replacement can.

I have met the Crown Prince and Princess of Norway once. When they attended the MET. I am not on first name basis with them though. How did you meet?

Miranda.

Smiling she logged out of her pc and started on the book. Today had ended monumentally better than yesterday.

It was Wednesday. Fashion Week was coming to an end. Miranda traded one more email with Andréa before work. It was a full day of shows and then an after party for Michael Kors. It was midnight before Miranda made it home. She checked her email but not seeing anything from Andréa she went to bed.

She was awake at 6. She needed to go over the book. It was the last day of New York Fashion week. Most of her staff would be flying from JFK to London at around 7. She would be leaving an hour later so she could have dinner with her daughters. Miranda dressed as always and retrieved her cup of coffee along with the book from the foyer.

Agnes would finish packing her things today and all Miranda had left to do was look over the book once more and attend the shows. Tomorrow, it would all begin again but without her at the helm. Thank God. She needed a little down time. She circled page 157 Jump into Spring "Does not jump yet". Looking at the book, half her editors had fallen asleep on the job. Page 175 she circled a half sentence. "And what…where has the text gone?"

Miranda flipped on her pc and opened her email. Still nothing from Andréa. She sent two emails to Nigel decrying the state of the book and asking what is happening in his department because it seems as if they have either staged a mass exodus or they no longer wish to work for Runway and this is the clever way they are writing their resignation notice. Which, she would be very happy to accept. Fix it, was how she signed the email.

After she clicked send an email popped up. Andréa

Chère Miranda,

Will you be in London on Friday?

Andréa

Miranda quickly wrote back.

Dear Andréa,

Yes. I'll be arriving Friday morning.

Miranda

Only moments later another message popped up.

Chère Miranda,

Will you have dinner with me on Friday? I will be in London from Friday until Wednesday.

Andréa

Miranda felt her heartbeat speed up.

Dear Andréa,

I'd like that. The last show ends at 9. Is 9:30 too late?

Miranda

There was no answer. Miranda went to retrieve another cup of coffee. When she returned there was a reply.

Chère Miranda,

9:30 is perfect. I too, must work late. I'll be staying at The Dorchester, Terrace Suite. Do you mind if we eat in the suite? Or is there somewhere you'd like to go?

Andréa

Miranda wrote back that she had nowhere she particularly wished to eat. Privately, she thought it would be nice to have dinner without gawkers or people who were looking to overhear conversations so they could sell the information to whatever rag was buying. She had never stayed at The Dorchester, as she kept her own home in London. Andréa sent another response.

Chère Miranda,

Wonderful. It's a date. I'll send a car to pick you up from your house. Unless you'd like me to send the car to retrieve you from another location.

Have a great day at the shows. I'll see you Friday.

Andréa

Miranda smiled. It's a date. She logged off. It was time to go tackle the last day of New York Fashion Week.

The fashion shows raced by until the last show reached its conclusion and Miranda escaped the tents to go have dinner with her girls. Miranda arrived first at NOBU. Her daughters called and said they were stuck in traffic and would be arriving shortly. She pulled out the tablet she had received at Christmas. She clicked through today's pictures along with any shows she had been unable to attend from the last week. She pulled up the Rodarte show.

Thankfully she had sent Nigel to Rodarte while she attended Naeem Khan's show so she wasn't there to witness this atrocity. Most of the dresses were appalling. Flicking through the 70's inspired clothes Miranda saw a picture of Anne Wintour, smiling. Good, thought Miranda. Let her magazine show those dresses. She might find something to say about the Star War inspired dresses but she would not be featuring them. She continued to flick through the photos when the scraping of chairs broke her concentration.

"Hi mom," Cassidy greeted her with a smile.

"Sorry we're late," Caroline offered with a slight tweak of her lips.

"Traffic was a mess," Cassidy finished speaking for the both of them.

A cocktail waiter appeared at their table to take their drink orders. After ordering they indicated to the waiter they were also ready to order dinner. He excused himself to find their waiter, who arrived within seconds. Since this was a favorite restaurant of the girls, they had their orders memorized. Ordering was finished in a matter of minutes. Which was great as time was at a premium, they only had an hour before Miranda needed to go.

"How was your day, girls?" Miranda asked once they were alone again.

"Eh." Caroline shrugged.

"Great!" Cassidy exclaimed at the same time.

Before Caroline could expand on her answer, Cassidy started talking. "Matthew asked me out. He said that he wanted to ask me out right away but he thought maybe we should talk first and make sure we liked each other first. And besides, starting to date right before Valentine's Day is like a lot of pressure. So we're going out on Saturday."

"So you're not going out tomorrow?" Miranda tried to keep up with Cassidy's excited squealing/talking.

Caroline answered for them both "No, we are going out tomorrow but not like a date. It's just some of us hanging out, at like, a group thing. We're going to Chelsea Piers, with the batting cages and stuff."

"Stuff?"

"Yeah, bowling and basketball. Stuff." Caroline said with a grin.

"But I'll also go out on Saturday with Matthew." Cassidy chimed in.

"You've talked to your father about this?" Miranda wanted to make sure they weren't just running around the city.

The waiter returned, bringing their food. They waited for him to leave before they began eating and resumed their conversation.

"Yeah he said it's cool. He wants us to hang out with Amber." Cassidy rolled her eyes and made a face.

"Give it a rest Cass." Caroline chided her sister. "She's okay just," she shrugged "not like a step parent or anything."

Cassidy snorted. "She's so…" she paused looking for the right word.

Miranda waited for the word young to pop out.

"Blonde." Caroline offered.

"Yeah, that's it. Blonde" Cassidy nodded.

"Blonde?" Miranda was confused.

"Yeah! Okay she's like younger than dad and everything but that's okay." Cassidy said.

"Yeah that's not the problem. She's too pink." Caroline supplied.

"She's blonde and pink?" Miranda asked, after she swallowed the bite of food she had been chewing.

"Pink" Caroline agreed before taking another bite of her own food.

"You remember that guy with that line of clothes you said were too tacky to be considered awful?" Cassidy asked.

Miranda nodded. It was hard to forget something that hideous.

"Well she likes that. She likes everything that's tacky and pink and fake nails and blonde hair." Cassidy explained.

"She tries too hard. She's always bringing up celebrities or saying yolo or swag, like it's cool." Both girls rolled their eyes. "She can't be like that all the time. At least I hope not." Caroline explained as she pushed her empty plate away.

"Oh?" Miranda wasn't sure what to say at this point.

"It's not that she's 26 and dad's 58. It's more that she acts like she's 16 and that's weird." Cassidy said also pushing her plate away.

"So the age doesn't bother you?" Miranda asked.

"Not really." Caroline answered.

"Kind of." Cassidy said at the same time.

Cassidy explained. "It's not really about her age. It's more about how mature she is. She's never gone anywhere or done anything. She giggles at dad's jokes, even when they're not funny. She talks about going out to concerts and parties. I'm not sure how dad met her or what they have in common and then a couple of weeks ago he announces that he's getting married. It's just strange."

Miranda felt a little lost. Obviously the girls had talked about this with each other. She on the other hand had just learned that Jeremy was getting married week and a half ago and now was finding out he was marrying someone who the girls found to be immature.

They both nodded at Cassidy's pronouncement of it being strange.

"We're not even 18 and we both think she is childish. She could be trying too hard. We'll find out while you're gone I guess." Caroline added trying to give Amber the benefit of doubt.

"Speaking of which, your 18th birthday. It's only two months away." Miranda hijacked the conversation. "Have you thought about it?"

"Yeah, we want to have our parties together. It's too strange to have two parties on the same day." Caroline answered.

"And it's hard for one of us, to decide to just have parties on two weekends." Cassidy quipped with a pointed look at her sister.

"I have to study." She defended herself.

"Yeah, I would hate for you to skip the library two weekends in a row." Cassidy answered with a smirked. Caroline rolled her eyes.

"Girls," Miranda's voice reminded them to get to the point. "Caroline, don't roll your eyes at your sister.

Have you…" Miranda began to say.

"Talked to Jolene? Yeah. She found us a venue. We'll check it out after school on Monday. We've almost decided on a menu and a caterer. We chose Alice's Tea Cup to make our cake. It's based on" Where The Wild Things Are"." Caroline answered.

"Where The Wild Things Are?" Miranda's eyes went shiny and her voice caught.

Both girls blushed but it was Cassidy who spoke. "It's our favorite memory, you reading that to us. We just thought," she looked over at her sister, "that if we could have something from when we were little at the party it would be nice."

"It's lovely." Miranda agreed.

Caroline cleared her throat. "We also decided on a dj instead of a live band and no, we haven't picked the dj.

"Well it sounds like it will be a wonderful party and you have everything under control. Did you want dessert?"

"Nah, Agnes said she'd make us cheesecake today."

Miranda paled at the thought of so much sugar.

"Yeah." Cassidy laughed. "She said carbs don't count when The Priestly is out of the country." Both girls laughed at Miranda's glare.

"So full day tomorrow?" Caroline asked while they waited for the waiter to bring back the credit card slip.

"Yes, I'm afraid I won't be able to call you. I'm not sure when I'll be free." Miranda took a sip from her water glass.

The girls looked at each other and then Cassidy asked innocently "Oh? Isn't the last show at 8?"

"Well yes, but I have dinner plans after." Miranda took another sip.

The sisters looked at their mom and then back at each other. It wasn't what she had said. It was the light blush on her cheeks after she said dinner plans.

"Dinner plans?" Caroline pounced on the new topic.

"Yes." Miranda felt hunted. She could feel the girls and their curiosity circle her like little lionesses. Where was that waiter?

"With?" Cassidy took up the conversation.

"A friend." Miranda was feeling caged in.

"Just a friend?" Caroline asked sweetly. "On Valentine's Day?"

"Well, uh…yes a, uh friend." Miranda stumbled over her words. The waiter appeared. Miranda almost ripped the paper from his hands as she stood. "I have to go darlings. Be good for you father." She kissed them both and headed to the car. Miranda headed off to the airport, sighing in relief.

The girls sat quietly in the restaurant sipping the last of their drinks.

"Do you think it's serious?" Cass asked.

"Have you ever seen her blush or stumble over words?" Caro answered.

"Should we ask her again?" Cass worried her lip with her teeth.

"No, not now. When she gets back. I want to see her when we ask again." Caro replied.

Cass nodded. They stood and left. It was time to go home.