A/N: Hi again. Sorry for the wait..schools started and I'm extremely busy :( Thanks everybody! :) I LOVE reading all of the reviews and PM's and etc. :) You guys rock!

I still didn't understand why Miranda made me come with her to this meeting, since she never had her assistants accompany her before, but here I was. Sitting next to Miranda, trying really hard not to inhale her perfume as I hurriedly scribbled notes. The meeting was with the editor of Italian Runway, and she and Miranda were "negotiating" things. Rather, Miranda was making all of the important decisions while the poor editor was scribbling down notes like I was. When that part was done, a file of nameless Italian designers filed into the conference room to try and make their mark on the fashion industry by showing the two editors (mostly Miranda) their collections. Predictably, Miranda didn't like any of them, except for a young man named Clio Santino. His design aesthetic was very classy and modern, and I would've worn most of the clothes he showed.

Miranda ended the meeting with a soft 'that's all' and she swept out of the room with me following close behind. I was exhausted, although I couldn't figure out why. I mean, I had gotten up at the crack of dawn, but I still had enough energy to run. Usually exercise helped wake me up in the mornings, but today it didn't do its job. I felt bloated and lethargic. I must have trailed behind, because Miranda's sharp voice penetrated through my hazy thoughts.

"Andréa?"

She halted abruptly, and I almost ran into her before I caught myself. She peered at me, and I returned the look with guarded eyes while I tried to fidget as little as I could stand. I had to keep my features schooled since I would do something irrational (like burst out into tears and hug her) if I let my 'happy mask' drop. It was first 'real' time that I had actually stared into her beautiful eyes in a long time. Sure I had glanced at her and looked to the corner of her eye to make it look like I had made eye contact before, but I hadn't actually looked at her. And I missed it. Miranda's eyes, unlike mine, were open, unguarded, letting me see her. The old cliché about the eyes being the windows to the soul was definitely true in this case. Her irises were drawing me in, and my heart swelled up with all of the feelings that I had tried to repress before. I looked away before I ruined my façade and answered.

"Yes Miranda?"

I could feel Miranda staring at my dropped head. I realized that it was a position of ultimate submissiveness. Feeling a cool hand gently tilt my head up, I suppressed a gasp when I looked into her crystal blue orbs once more.

"Have lunch with me?"

Those 4 words filled me with such happiness I could hardly contain myself. Depression clawed at me every single second of every single day, but being in Miranda's presence took some of that away. She was my drug that kept me alive and going each day. And I loved her for that, even though she didn't even know it.

"I would love to."

"Hmm. I'll pick the restaurant Andréa," Miranda said, shocking me. She never chose restaurants. It was always Emily or me. Her finger was still under my chin, forcing me to look at her, and I gave her my best smile which seemed to throw her equilibrium off a bit. My smile, I've been told, can melt hearts. Apparently my combination of full, pouty lips, and large innocent doe eyes were the perfect match for the perfect smile. Although, I must disagree with the 'innocent' part of my eyes now. They had lost most of it when Nate had started being abusive.

I came so close to squeezing the life out of Miranda, but I snapped out of it before I got fired for sexual harassment and became blacklisted. Her slender finger was still on my chin, so I nodded carefully, trying to convey with my smile that it meant a lot to know that she was taking the time to eat with me. She wordlessly nodded back, and put her hand on the small of my back to guide me to the elevator. I was breathless. This gorgeous creature was touching me, but I could not understand why. Before I could go down the road of 'to ugly for her' though, I tried to push the voices in my head away and focused on the tingly nerve that Miranda was currently possessing.

I sighed quietly as we descended in the elevator. And when we got out, I was grateful for Miranda's hand guiding me. My legs were jelly, and I had no idea where we were going.


"White is a good color on you Andréa," Miranda commented as she sipped her wine.

"Thank you," I replied as my cheeks flushed and I quickly looked away to hide my burning face.

She had taken me to a lovely restaurant that was tucked away from the usual bustling crowd. It was small on the outside, and I would've walked by it without a second thought if I was by myself.

"It's a wonderful contrast to your beautiful pale skin," Miranda continued.

A small gasp slipped out of my mouth when she uttered those words. I never, in my wildest dreams, would've imagined that she would find me attractive. I peered up at her through lowered lashes and gave her a tentative smile. "Thank you again." I sounded like a broken record.

Since I hadn't eaten much due to my lack of appetite in the past months, my stomach couldn't handle the rich Italian food so I ordered a salad to slowly introduce 'real' food back into my system. Poking at a piece of chicken, I ran my fingers through my hair and crossed my legs under the table.

"So," I swallowed a bite of salad and carefully chewed before swallowing, "are there any designers this year that you find...pleasing this season?"

"Prada has always matched my expectations," Miranda responded, tracing her fingers across the rim of her glass. I watched it, memorized for a while before I snapped out of it.

"Anybody else?"

"Versace has always designed collections that I find acceptable. I hope to feature them in a spread for Runway," Miranda took a dainty bite of her steak and continued. "And of course Valentino will be there. His collections are always wonderful."

"I still can't believe a top designer knows who I am," I chuckled. "It was amazing to meet him."

"Yes," Miranda said. "I'm glad that I introduced you to him."

"Mmm," I agreed.

"What are you going to wear to the runway show?" Miranda changed the subject.

"I don't know yet," I responded truthfully. "Probably either the Vivienne Westwood dress or the Alexander McQueen. I didn't pack that many fancy dresses. How about you?"

"A red Dolce and Gabbana dress."

Wow. I nodded in response, trying to control my libido when I pictured Miranda in red. I yawned before I quickly apologized. "I'm sorry Miranda."

"For what?"

I frowned slightly-usually Miranda would have already chastised me. "For yawning?" I phrased it as a question, since I was confused.

"Andréa, you were up at five this morning, running. I would say that you have a reason to be exhausted. I shall get the bill, and we can go back to the hotel so you can rest before the show," Miranda waved the waiter over before I could get a word in edgewise. Miranda's behavior was strange. She touched me again, called me pretty, and pardoned my lack of social skills. Maybe, a little voice whispered, she likes you too. I stomped on it hard, effectively squishing it.

Miranda rose from the table and I hurriedly followed suit, throwing my napkin carelessly to the side of my plate. We rode back to the hotel, making small talk. Miranda didn't touch me again, and I found myself both relieved and sad that she didn't. When we got to our rooms, I thanked Miranda for a wonderful morning, and then let myself into my suite. I hadn't even taken two steps in before I was bombarded with questions.

"Andy! How was it? Was it like a date? Did she pay? Did you have an awkward conversation? You do know that she didn't need you this morning, right?"

"Hello to you too Em," I joked. I slid my purse strap off of my shoulder and dropped it into the nearest chair after I dropped the room key on the table. I made my way over to where Emily was sitting, and plopped on the couch beside her. Kicking off my heels, I tucked my legs up underneath me and gave her a hug. "It was lovely. She took me to a small restaurant that had a really good chicken caesar salad."

"So it was a date!" Emily squealed.

"No!" I protested loudly. "It was strictly business."

"Did you talk about 'business' while you were eating?"

"Well, indirectly. We talked about the runway show this afternoon. And what we would be wearing..." I trailed off. "We didn't really talk about that much, now that I think about it."

"Well, anything else happen?" Emily's green eyes were dancing with excitement, which I'm sure my face mirrored hers.

"She touched me," I almost whispered.

"She's done it before!"

"I mean, on my back," I shivered, thinking about her feathery light touch. "Like my lower back!"

"Wait, your butt?"

"NO!" I flushed. "It was the space in between. Not my upper back, but not my butt either. Kind of where my spine ended."

"Ah," Emily nodded.

"She also said that I looked pretty in white," I couldn't help the goofy grin that slowly spread across my face.

At that, Emily squealed. "That's awesome!"

"Yeah. Pretty remarkable," I giggled.

Emily grabbed my hands and we engaged in a silent scream together as we scrunched up our faces. I was becoming convinced Miranda liked me back, but of course, it was probably my love-struck imagination. I tried to keep my wits around myself and pull myself together, but every time I tried, I pictured her soft eyes looking into mine and failed.

"Gosh Andy," Emily shook her head in disbelief, "I can't even imagine."

"Me neither," I chuckled.

Emily looked over at the clock. "We have an hour until we should probably leave."

"CRAP!" My hand flew up to my forehead. "So much for my nap."

I stood up and ran to the closet before I pulled out all the dresses Emily and I had packed-which were a lot- and spread them all out on the bed. She and I-well mostly me- wasted about fifteen minutes of our precious time just trying to pick out a suitable dress. I knew that I told Miranda what I was going to wear already, but I couldn't decide which one I should wear between the two, or if I should wear something completely different and surprise her. After careful deliberation, I decided on the Alexander McQueen dress. It was a black strapless dress with gold embroidered detail on the bodice. (I loved the Closet for supplying both Emily and I with gorgeous dresses and accessories that neither of us could've afforded on our own.) I slipped on a pair of sky-high strappy black heels that had a strap which ran up the bridge of my foot and above the ankle before it wrapped around the back. With the little time I had left, I used a curling iron that made my hair lay in soft curls that framed my face nicely.

Emily was wearing a nude Gucci strapless dress with tan pumps, but she accessorized it with a brightly colored necklace so it wouldn't look so bland. The primary focus of her outfit was her face. She had straightened her red hair so it hung just past her collarbones, and wore brightly colored eyeshadow that really made her green eyes pop. Snatching a Christian Louboutin clutch and swiping an extra coat of mascara on my already made-up face, I checked my reflection quickly before heading out the door with Emily right behind me.

Miranda and Nigel were waiting for us in the lobby. I was right. She was absolutely breath-taking in red. My breathing hitched as we approached, and I had to forcibly remove my eyes away from her tantalizing backside and focus my attention on something-anything else. Miranda turned around and gave both of us a sweep-over before allowing a tiny smile to creep onto her face. "Acceptable," she murmured. I felt like jumping up and down while punching the air, but refrained and instead grinned back at her. We swept out of the Four Seasons and into a waiting car that would drive us to the fashion show.


It was marvelous. I loved going to Runway shows and seeing all of the beautiful clothes that designers have poured their souls into. I also took the opportunity to study Miranda's facial expressions. I counted a total of four nods and nine pursing of the lips, which was actually pretty good, considering that the designers had large collections of almost fifteen pieces each. After the show, I hung back with Nigel and Emily while Miranda was busy giving interviews and getting her picture taken with famous designers. Valentino was indeed there, and I had the privilege of meeting him again, shocked that he still remembered me.

After Miranda had given countless photos and interviews, we left to go to the dinner. I was still tired, and couldn't figure out why I had sudden fatigue within the past couple of days. I knew that I hadn't had a decent night's sleep after that night, but it was getting ridiculous. I was tired of being tired! I found myself standing by myself, as Emily went to the restroom, and Miranda and Nigel were talking to other editors/designers.

"Hello, remember me?"

I gasped, startled and turned. There in all of his stunning-ness stood Emiliano Gallo. He was wearing a dark suit, which really accentuated his dark features.

"Uh..." I stuttered.

He let out a loose easy chuckle, and grabbed two small flutes from passing waiters. He handed one to me, and I sipped it carefully, not wanting to become intoxicated.

"Why haven't you called?" his eyes were playful though.

"I'm sorry," I sighed. "I just haven't had time, and I don't know if I want to indulge in a fling. You were right before, I'm only here for Fashion Week, so I'll be leaving soon. Besides, I can't handle getting close to someone again so soon."

"Again?"

I groaned internally. "Well, um. Yes. My previous boyfriend was...abusive. He beat me and stole my innocence," My eyes filled up with tears. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm telling you this."

"No, no. It's alright. I'm sorry I asked and I'm so sorry that it happened to you," Emiliano gasped. "You seem like such a lovely lady!"

I smiled a wobbly smile at him. "Thank you."

He handed me his handkerchief and I gently dabbed at my eyes, feeling embarrassed when more tears joined the first few. I stained the cloth with black streaks, but when I looked at him apologetically, he didn't seem mad at all. Just sympathetic.

"So it occurred to me, that I do not even know your name," he tapped his chin. "But you know mine. That is not fair, no?"

"Andrea Sachs," I responded. "Everybody calls me Andy though."

"Andréa," of course the one person who didn't call me that showed up.

Before my brain could even fully register her presence, her scent enveloped me and with a jolt, I felt her arm wrap around my back and her hand rested just below my right shoulder.

"What did you do to her?" Miranda's voice was ice cold as she glared daggers at Emiliano.

I had so many emotions swirling around me, it was hard to focus. The love of my life was holding me and defending me because she thought that the man across from me had hurt me. I couldn't sort all of the feelings I had, so I focused on protecting Emiliano from her.

"It wasn't his fault!" I interjected, looking at up at Miranda before warning Emiliano with my eyes that he should say nothing about why I had cried. "I promise, Miranda."

I was both physically and mentally exhausted. I couldn't handle her so close, so I had allowed a few tears to slip out. She looked at me and wiped away the new moisture that had gathered under my eyes. I gasped softly and fluttered my eyes closed, parting my lips a bit as I savored her touch. I heard her breath hitch, and opened my eyes again in shock. She let her fingers drop away and looked away from me to glare at him one last time. She nodded curtly and said, "We will be going now. Good-bye."

"I'll text you," I whispered to his panic-stricken face. He nodded and made a hasty retreat.

After he left, I realized that Miranda still had her arm around me, her grip tight, but not painful. She was the closest to me than she'd ever been before.

"Miranda," I shyly whispered.

She stepped in front of me and cupped my face with both hands. I trembled. She looked directly into my eyes and asked, "Are you sure he didn't hurt you Andréa?"

"I promise," I breathed back. I tentatively reached up and covered her hands with mine.

"What did you mean when you said 'I'll text you'?" Miranda's voice hardened.

"He gave me his number on a sheet of paper. That was what Emily and I were reading in the car on the way to the hotel," I said. When Miranda's eyes flashed dangerously and she tried to withdraw her hands, I gripped them tighter and said fiercely, "I wasn't going to contact him though. I wasn't." I repeated. She softened and nodded in understanding. Suddenly, I realized where we were and panicked when I looked around. Luckily nobody had spotted us, since we were towards the back.

"It's alright Andréa," Miranda murmured, bringing my attention back to her.

I inhaled sharply, but before I could do anything, she pulled away from me. My hands stung from the sudden loss of contact, and my heart constricted painfully. I looked away and tried to regulate my breathing. I could not fall apart in front of her. Obviously I had misread the signals, and it was all my fault. She didn't want anything to do with me. I was just a silly girl who obviously had no control over her tear ducts. I coughed and yawned to try and cover up my eyes that were misting over again.

"So, uh, is there anything you want me to do?" I was proud that my voice didn't shake.

"Andréa-"

"What is that smell?" I cut her off and looked around. The awful scent was pungent, and I soon found the source. A waiter who was passing us was carrying a plate full of fish appetizers. It made my stomach flip, and I knew that I was going to lose the salad I ate for lunch. I clapped a hand over my mouth, gathered my dress with my other hand, and hastily retreated to the nearest bathroom. I never looked back at Miranda for fear my soul would break even more than it already had.

Hopefully this long chapter will make up for my lack of updating! :) As always, please R&R! More reviews=more chapters :) Thanks. PS. Miranda is taller than Andy in my head. :) Also, sorry for me reviewing my own story! My sister thought it would be funny...it only happened ONCE though! PROMISE :)