19.
"Good morning, Ms. Martin."
Ed's long time, elderly PA, Martha marched into the office, and placed a hot cup of Earl Grey in front of her.
"Good morning, Martha" nodded Ed, her eyes glued to the computer screen. She was wearing the same clothes from the previous day, her face was ashen and worn out, her hair messy. Even if Martha noticed her boss' disheveled appearance, the dried blood on her shirt's collar, not to mention the discolored cut on her face she did not comment on it.
"The workers arrived. Based on the foreman's estimation they should be finished by noon."
"Thank you, Martha. Efficient as always." Ed took a sip and groaned as her taste buds met the aromatic liquid. "And your tea is divine"
"No problem, Ms. Martin. Anything else I can help with, Ms. Martin?"
Every time Martha addressed Ed, she emphasized the name. And every time she did it Ed flinched. It didn't matter that it had been going on roughly eight years now, she couldn't get used to it. Martha had been with the company more than forty years. She'd known Ed since she was a little kid. Knew her better than anyone else. She'd been a faithful companion through the years, supporting Ed in those days, when Ed made questionable decisions. She stayed following Ed's infamous breakup that transformed the once kind and compassionate artist into someone she couldn't recognize anymore. There was one thing Martha wasn't willing to disregard though. She had never forgiven Ed for driving Andy away. While their relationship remained professional, she had stopped calling her Ed the day after Andy stormed out of the CEO's office and had become cold and distant.
"Yes, Martha, there is one more thing I'd like you to look after. Please get me a copy of Andy's new book. It was released two days ago. The book store at the corner must have it."
"You know about her book?" asked Martha genuinely surprised. "I could get you a complimentary copy from her publisher. They reside here, in this building."
Shaking her head, Ed answered softly.
"No. I'd rather pay for it. And" she added more quietly "regardless what anyone thinks I still care for Andy and try to look out for her."
"Yes, right."
The comment had a skeptical undertone and Ed couldn't blame Martha for questioning her sincerity. Losing Andy and Martha, at the same time years ago, hurt Ed beyond words. She decided that she didn't need anyone on a personal level. She kept herself busy with work, demolished anyone and everyone who dared to stand in her way, earning herself the non-flattering name, The Barracuda. She hated it. Hated herself. Hated her life. Then a chance encounter with a certain redhead changed everything. It was like waking up from a never ending nightmare. A glimpse of hope. But hope was a bitch, just like karma, a high-end one, not easy to please. Ed spent the whole night in her office, thinking, soul searching, analyzing and finally she understood. To be able to move forward she needed to make amends. And it was the right time to begin.
"And Martha?" she called after woman. "When you're done, you are free to go."
Martha stopped and inhaled sharply.
"Am I fired?" She asked, not turning around.
"What? No. What I meant to say was that you can go home and you are not expected back until the fifth of January. I'm offering you a holiday Martha. A paid one of course."
"All right then." she answered "I'll go get you that book." She left the office, without looking back.
"That went well." Ed tiredly rubbed her face forgetting about her injury and she accidentally peeled off the cut cover. Pressing her palm against the bleeding spot she searched for paper tissue in the drawers.
"This will do." she mumbled picking up a well-used eyeglass cleaner.
"What do you think you're doing? The micro wipe was snatched from her hand and replaced with a sterile antiseptic one. "Are you out of your bloody mind? A dirty rag? What are you, five?"
"Red." grinned Ed. "The all-round girl scout for the save." She wiped her face and tossed the tissue into the garbage can, under her table. "What now? Going to stich the cut and lock me up in a sterile room?"
Ed was clearly teasing but Emily, who for some unknown reason was already fired-up, didn't receive it well.
"You know what Ed, it doesn't concern me if you die of sepsis."
"Sepsis? Come on Red. It's just a minor cut." Lifting the tea she gulped down half of the now lukewarm liquid. She winked at Emily above the rim of the mug. "Careful, one might think you care about me."
"In your dreams, Ed." Hissed Emily. She indeed was on the edge and she didn't wait to lash out at the unsuspecting CEO. Her palms flat atop the desk she leaned forward forcefully.
"What are you up to Ed?"
"Up to? Am I missing something Red?"
"Don't play dumb Ed. I'm talking about the Closet. The security door is being removed. Why?"
Ed put the mug down, a bit more forcefully that she intended, but when she spoke there was no vehemence in her voice. Quite the opposite.
"I don't get you, Red. You were right about the Closet, so the door is being uninstalled. You wanted it gone. You should be happy. Yet here you are. Breathing fire with your hostile attitude, confusing the hell out of me." Mirroring Emily's posture, Ed angled toward the redhead, looking straight into her eyes. "I'm trying to resolve things here, Emily. But no matter what I do, it irritates you." Her shoulder slumped forward and she inhaled deeply. "I irritate you. And I don't know how to fix that."
Ed sounded beaten. Just like the other night and Emily's adamant armor cracked a bit. She knew she wasn't being fair in her total rejection, but there was just too much to lose and she couldn't risk it. The irritation she felt in the presence of Ed was fed by her own fears and insecurities and had little to do with the CEO's cocky attitude. In Emily's mind, irresistible sexual attraction was not a thing. It was a hoax, invented by trash novel writers, who wanted to write smut and had no talent to carry on a plot. Sex was just…sex. Bad sex, mediocre sex and hardly ever good sex. And there was the sex with Ed. That experiment blew up everything Emily thought of herself and her own sex life. And it wasn't just that. There were feelings. Spending time with Ed resulted in developing stupid, no good, itcanbrakeyouandwillneverecover type of romantic feelings. They were planted, ready to grow and bloom. It was frightening. She didn't do love. Ever. So, in theory she had no reason to imagine how it would feel to wake up next to Ed every morning. How it would feel to cuddle and vent after a long, crazy day in the office. She had absolutely no business envisioning all possible and perhaps impossible sexual scenarios. Yet, literally it was what she had been doing. It pissed her off. She had to stay angry, suspicious to balance the insane chemistry and somehow keep herself from falling. Falling for someone, who was the enemy, a threat to Miranda, therefore to Emily too. However, wasn't there a saying about keeping your enemies close? Maybe she should do that. Be friendly. Figure out whether the Ed's changed approach was for real or just a trick to conquer and win. Yes, she could that. For Miranda and Runway, of course. Of course. Confident in her decision Emily relaxed and stepped back, not releasing the eye connection.
"I might have overreacted. I'm willing to listen, but it'd better be good Ed." Emily winced at her own words. It didn't sound entirely friendly. On the other hand it wasn't unkind either, was it? She'd taken the role of the mean girl ages ago. It became her second nature. Acting nice didn't come easy, she needed to practice for sure. Fortunately, Ed graciously received it as a peace offering. A huge, smile brightened up her features, and she looked as handsome as ever making Emily's heart ache a little, not to mention the effect it caused on her other body parts.
Ed plopped down on the couch, kicked off her shoes and popped her feet up on the coffee table.
"Boy, I feel every second of my forty plus years. Staying up all night used to be fun. What happened to that?"
Emily sat on the armchair opposite Ed. Forty plus. Was that Forty-one? Or more? It hadn't occurred to her before that Ed was that much older than her. Did it matter to her? Hardly. There were too many other concerns to worry about. Age wasn't one.
"I spent the night here, in my office, going through documents, contracts and most importantly emails I received from…" Ed's voice faltered "From my source."
Emily rolled her eyes. "Irv Ravitz."
Ed didn't say anything, just grimaced. Emily rolled her eyes again.
"Ed, it is common knowledge that he's been trying to get rid of Miranda since, forever. You can't trust anything he told you."
Ed nodded.
"I see it now. Re-reading those emails, with an open mind and without any prejudice, I came to realize that again you were right, Red. I am an idiot. I only met Ravitz in person once. About a year ago, he proposed a brilliant business offer to me. One that I couldn't refuse and it concluded in buying those EC shares. Do I still think that it was a smart decision? I do, yes. Business-wise. However, this mess… Anyway, he insisted on interacting via email and I didn't mind. The first couple emails were about business, then the subject shifted, and suddenly it was all about Miranda, exclusively."
She motioned toward the computer. "These emails, whoever wrote them, that person knows me. Knows me well. Knows my way of thinking. My pet peeves. My borderline paranoia of being used. I blindly followed their lead and ended up in a swamp where I got stuck. My brain focused on solely one thing. The danger called Miranda Priestly. When she came out as a lesbian, I got an email form Ravitz. Two words. "Told you". At that moment, I believed, truly believed, that Miranda was the devil in Prada."
"She is, Ed. While Miranda is my idol, I'm aware of her dark side. She can be ruthless in this business. As a woman, sometimes she has to be. She makes grown men and women cry on a daily basis. She ruins those, dare to get in her way. But, she would never pretend to be a lesbian or use someone's sexuality to reach her goals. She is bigger than that."
"I'm so screwed Red. I was so afraid of being used again, that I let them use me. How pathetic is that? And what's the purpose behind this con game? Who are they after? Miranda or I?"
"Either or both of you. Irv wants Miranda's head, we already know that. The question is, who wants yours?"
"Many. The list is probably endless. I'm not kidding Red. There is a reason I'm called the Barracuda."
"You are not a Saint. Old news Ed. Everybody has enemies. You are successful and a woman of power. Many must envy you."
"True. Although, we are looking for someone who knows me on a personal level. Smart enough to influence Ravitz, who I believe just a puppet in this show."
Ed abruptly stood and pressed her palm to her forehead.
"This is hurting my head. I need some fresh tea." Grabbing her mug she looked questioningly at Emily.
Emily shook her head in refusal.
"All right." With that Ed strolled out, not even bothering to put on her shoes.
Making sure that the CEO was out of earshot, Emily sat at the desk and checked the computer. It was turned on and thankfully no password was asked to wake it from sleep mode. Not too smart. Emily had no doubt that Ed would let her go through those emails, but old habits die hard. It wasn't the first time, she sneaked around and collected information from someone's computer. Working for Miranda, and fulfilling her sometimes impossible tasks required unusual methods. Reading other people's emails was one of them.
The electric kettle's shrieking whistle almost stifled the discreet beep of the cellphone. Ed fished the phone out of her pocket and read Martha's message. And read it again. It made absolutely no sense whatsoever. She decided to call the PA, but she was interrupted by a visitor. The older gentleman, standing at the door of the small kitchenette was familiar, Ed remembered seeing him in the building before.
"Yes?" she inquired, putting the phone back into her pocket.
"You don't know who I am do you?" asked the old man with a slight scowl. "It's very arrogant of you, Ms. Martin. After threatening to destroy my business the least you could do is recognize me. Then again, possibly I'm not the only one and it must be hard to keep track of all your prey."
"What?" Asked Ed, the intensity of her tone must have sounded threatening, because the man backed off and held up a hand.
"I'm not here to fight ma'am. I am too old and too tired for that. I'm here to inform you that I sold my business and by the order of the new owner, the book you did not let me sell won't be held back anymore. Part of the bargain was to notify you about the transaction and also deliver this to you." He placed the box he was holding on the kitchen counter and nodded "Good day, Ms. Martin"
The tea was forgotten as Ed walked back to her office, the book sized box, heavy as lead in her hands. What was going on? She had no clue what the old man was talking about. She was certain, that they had no business or any other dealings with each other. Reaching the office she put the box on the desk and opened it. There was a small folded paper on the top of a book. Andy's book. She unfolded the note and read it. Her brain tried to hold on to the meaning of it. She read it again. And again. She heard Emily's voice from a distance, asking her whether some name sounded familiar. Why was she asking that? How did she come up with that name?
"What? What did you ask?"
"I was asking, if the name Cordelia Black sounded familiar? I scrolled through your emails and I found something. Two of the emails Irv sent you were forwarded to someone called Cordelia Black. I assume he was reckless and forgot to set it and it wasn't bcc-d."
Cordelia Black. It wasn't happening. It wasn't real. Ed stared blankly at Emily then shifted back to the note. The room started to spin around her and suddenly all the oxygen vanished. Breathe. Just fucking breathe.
"Ed? Are you all right love?" The endearment slipped out so naturally, none seemed to notice. Tentatively Emily laid a hand on Ed's trembling ones, still holding the note.
Ed swayed slightly and Emily held on to her wrist to steady her.
"No." said Ed. She eased out of Emily's touch, crumpled the paper and let it drop on the floor. "No." she repeated.
Reaching out, Ed gently framed Emily's face and brought their foreheads together. Emily closed her eyes, savoring the moment of unexpected intimacy. She felt Ed's warm breath on her face, it smelled like bergamot, and she could almost taste it. But instead of the sweet, citrusy flavor a different sensation hit her lips. Salt. Eyes wide open now, Emily jerked her head back and starred bewildered at the silent tears, crawling down Ed's face. Dropping her arms to her side Ed retreated. Her forlorn expression was so heart wrenching, Emily had her own tears welling up at the corner of her eyes.
"How do you mend a broken heart Red?" Asked Ed, her voice so low, that Emily almost missed the question. It wasn't a question to be answered, before she could say anything the tall woman was gone.
Emily picked up the folded note and gaped at the familiar handwriting.
You had the love and respect of the most precious woman in the world and you threw it away. You broke her spirit but she is far from defeated. Most importantly she is not alone anymore. I'll cherish and protect her with everything I have. Enjoy the book.
Miranda Priestly
The war had begun.
