A/N: Hi and thank you for your patience while I finished my book and managed to keep my deadline! I always go through withdrawal when I submit a novel to my publisher, but now I'm ready to start posting chapters regularly here again. :-) Yay!

Part 41

Logan International Airport is buzzing with people, which is both a good and bad thing. Miranda steers them to the closest ladies' room and then watches Andrea disappear into a stall before she enters the one next to it. After using it, she pulls the clothes they bought in Geneva from her bag and hangs them from the hook on the door. The garments are rumbled, but not too bad. After putting them on, she bunches the old ones together and shoves them into the shopping bag. Stepping out of the stall, Miranda makes her way to the row of sinks and washed her hands while waiting for Andrea.

She barely recognizes the luxuriously and eclectically dressed young woman that emerges from Andrea's stall. With her hair tucked in under the hat, Andrea has completed the transformation by darkening her eyebrows and adding kohl to her eyes. Dramatic and beautiful, and if you looked into the cognac-brown eyes, certainly still Andrea.

"You look lovely, Melinda," Andrea says, winking at her.

"Thank you. Likewise." Miranda wipes her hands and checks her face. Deciding she needs to alter her features more, she digs into her messenger bag for her small makeup pouch. Adding some contouring and lots of mascara, but leaving her lips bare, she is happy to not look too much like herself. She ties the long, narrow, scarf she initially put around her neck, around her hair instead, letting the ends fall down her back, which completes the look. "Ready?" she asks and runs a finger along Andrea's cheek.

Grabbing Miranda's hand, Andrea pulls it toward her full lips and kisses the palm gently. "Yeah."

Striding through the airport, Miranda is acutely aware of one mistake they've made. They have changed their looks dramatically, but they still carry the same bags. Not that any of their bags stood out, but it is a rookie error. They sail through customs and nobody has an issue with Miranda's passport. On their way to the part of the arrival area where the car rental companies are lined up, Miranda grips her bag harder and keeps scanning the crowd for anyone suspicious.

Miranda rents a small, plain sedan. Silver metallic, it looks like any other car, which she knew didn't guarantee that they would not be spotted. This tactic has not always worked before. She thinks back to their escape in the Volkswagen and has to smile. What a ridiculous getaway car—but it worked. She prays their luck won't run out before they unravel the mystery of who's behind it all.

"I have to stock up on burner phones," Miranda said and enters one of the shops in the arrival area. She buys four different brands of phones and sim cards. Starting one up immediately while Andrea carries her bag, she dials Nigel from memory.

"I'm not interested in whatever you're selling," a sullen Nigel says in lieu of a hello.

"Nigel. It's me." Miranda's heart aches at the sound of his voice. She misses everyone at the art restoration workshop, especially Nigel

"Mira—"

"No names." Miranda interrupts Nigel's incredulous voice. "I'm all right. So is my assistant." Miranda sent Andrea a quick glance.

"You assis—oh, right. Thank God." Nigel exhales loudly. "Where are you?"

"It's better if you don't know. We're trying to figure a few things out and I wanted to touch base and let you know we're still here." Miranda keeps walking to the exit and Andrea walks right next to her, clearly as vigilant about their surroundings as she is.

"What can I do?" Nigel asks.

"Listen. In my safe, there's a document that gives you, Serena, and Emily, the full power of attorney to run the company until we return. And if we don't, there's also a will that in time will divide the company between the three of you. The combination is located where you stash your tobacco." Miranda snorts. Nigel sometimes smokes a pipe, and he probably never knew she knows about his hidden stash of tobacco in his workshop.

"Oh. Right. Got it." Nigel's voice betrays his distress. "Will you call me again?" he asks tightly.

"I will and just so you know, you can't return my call on this cell. I'm getting rid of it. Do you understand?" Miranda hopes he does.

"No. But yes." The cryptic remark settles something in Miranda. Nigel understands that this was how it had to be, at least.

"Good. Thank you, my friend. Stay safe and be mindful of new, unexpected customers, all right?" Miranda says. "If someone approaches the firm, and you're wary of them, make sure their faces end up on the surveillance tapes."

"Got it, boss." Sounding more composed, Nigel clears his throat.

"I'll be in touch." Miranda feels her throat constrict and she disconnects the call. She removes the sim card as they approach the car, letting it fall to the ground. The phone stealthily ends up in a bin.

Andrea slips in behind the wheel after tossing their bags into the backseat. She waits until Miranda has buckled up and then leans over and cups the back of Miranda's neck.

Surprised, Miranda snaps her head up and looks over at Andrea. "Yes?"

"It's all right to miss them. I know you're good at being stoic, but it's okay, you know." Andrea slides the back of her fingers along Miranda's neck.

"I know you mean well, but I can't—I just can't afford to acknowledge all these damn emotions. Not right now. I can't allow it. I've never been able to." Miranda knows she isn't being entirely truthful, but the depth of Andrea's feelings is reflected in her eyes and it makes Miranda feel, or fear, she might drown if she gives in. There's no time for that.

"Things are different now. No matter what happens, things are coming to an end," Andrea says, sounding remarkably calm.

Miranda stares at Andrea. "Are you truly that fatalistic? Or optimistic?"

"Well, the way I see it, either they get ahold of us, or we of them. I think finding out the truth about the stalkers is the only way to deal with this and I have faith in us. And in Nigel and the rest of the staff to keep your business afloat until we can return with you as Miranda Priestly, and nobody else." Andrea leans in and kisses Miranda lightly. "That said, I'm not naïve. We're ahead right now as there's a chance they don't know exactly where we are. Considering their talent for tracking us down when we were in Europe, though, I'm not holding my breath. They'll find us again, but we'll be ready for them. We might even find them first. So, where to?"

Miranda tries to process Andrea's words, but her brain is fatigued still because it is hard. "Plymouth. I'll book a hotel room there in my new name. Tomorrow we'll go to my hometown and go over the census records. I know they were sketchy in the late 1700s and early 1800s, but the churches kept records." Miranda tries to speak matter-of-factly, but the lingering feeling of Andrea's lips against hers distracts her. "What do you think?" She really isn't used to checking with anyone else about her decisions, but as Andrea risks her very life to help her, to be with her, it is only fair.

"Good plan. I've never been to Plymouth, actually." Andrea checks the rearview mirrors and over her shoulder before she pulls out into the busy airport traffic. "And either way, I'll be very interested to see your hometown."

"My memories from my childhood home are mixed, but with you by my side, perhaps it'll be more endurable to revisit the area." Miranda shrugged. "Either way, it's the best I can come up with. I'll be able to compare notes with my ledger, and a name might pop up if we're lucky."

"That'd be great." Andrea nodded. "Also, I wish there was a way to check in with Rosalee. To know she's okay still, and if she's found out something we haven't."

"There might be a way. She's somewhere in the French countryside, or perhaps the Dutch or Belgium, but I bet she still reads Le Monde when possible, to stay connected to what's going on. We could take out an ad and see what happens."

"Wow. An encrypted ad like in old spy movies. Cool." Andrea winks at Miranda and then changes lanes. "Okay, how long's our drive?"

"It's not very far. About forty-five minutes. Just keep going south on MA-3." Miranda leaned back against the neck rest. "If you see some unassuming shopping center on the way, pull over so we can buy some normal clothes."

"All right." Andrea briefly touches Miranda's knee below the hem of the dress. "Just relax. I've got this."

Miranda normally would have scoffed at the 'just relax' comment, but now she feels that it's entirely possible for her to do just that with Andrea at the wheel. She can actually hand over responsibility and let someone else take the lead for a bit.

Huh. Imagine that.

xxxxx

Continued in part 42