Andrea had barely stepped foot through the Runway doors of Elias-Clarke when Miranda appeared out of nowhere and attached a pincer like grip on her upper right arm. Startled, it took the brunette a moment to realize she was being dragged across the room towards the Dragon Lady's lair. A quick glance at Emily's desk told her the woman wasn't there, but a few others were staring open mouthed at Miranda's display of physical conduct; well. This was lovely. She would be the talk of the entire company at this rate.
Once inside the office, Miranda slammed the door and threw Andrea towards the chairs sitting in front of her desk, though made no indication for her to sit. Andrea stumbled, catching her footing as quick as she could in four inch boots, then lifted her still startled gaze to Miranda. The white haired fashionista looked absolutely terrifying; her eyes were blazing, and her expression was nothing short of pure fury.
"What did you say to her?" Miranda snarled, and Andy's eyes widened considerably.
"Huh?"
"Save the incoherent bullshit, Andrea," Miranda snarled again, causing Andy's jaw to drop slightly; she had never heard Miranda swear outside of 'hell'. "Emily. What did you say to her?"
"What do you mean?" Andy asked, thoroughly surprised she had managed to make her voice work. The lack of informative response seemed to further enrage Miranda.
"She came in this morning, stormed straight into my office, and informed me that I could go fuck myself," Miranda said, sounding no less angry. Andy gasped.
"She...she what!"
"Oh yes," Miranda replied, taking a few steps towards Andrea. Andy stepped back without thinking, hitting into one of the chairs behind her. "So do you mind explaining to me exactly what happened between you two that led her to the conclusion that I had something to do with it?"
Andrea reached behind her and gripped the back of the chair, taking a deep breath, then swallowing hard. This was going to be interesting. "Um...I accidently let slip...what happened the other night with us..."
Miranda's brow went up. "What happened the other night with us," she repeated, almost deadpanning.
"When you showed me how to please her," Andy supplied. "She didn't take it well."
"I wouldn't assume she would," Miranda replied, and the fire in her eyes intensified. "Please explain to me why that daft little brain of yours would think telling her that would be logical. Just because I helped you, doesn't mean it was right."
"And yet you did it anyway," Andy snapped in response, suddenly starting to catch up with the situation. "She quit because she thought you ruined her relationship. Fuck, you did ruin her relationship. Was that some sick little ploy to split us up so you could have her back?"
"What?"
"Well what am I supposed to think!" Andy shrieked. Miranda came forward immediately, clasping her hand over Andrea's mouth and shoving her towards the private bathroom on the other side of the office.
"Be quiet!" she hissed, pushing her into the bathroom and shutting the door. She threw Andrea against the door and removed her hand from her mouth, though pinned her to the door with her body. "What kind of fool do you think I am? I may be an ice queen, but in no way do I go out of my way to ruin the relationships of others. You asked for my assistance, and I gave it to you. If anyone ruined your relationship, it was you and that hideously big mouth of yours."
"You know, you can stop insulting me any time now!" Andrea practically yelled. "I'm tired of you calling me stupid, and ugly, and fat! I'm over it, Miranda!"
"And what are you going to do about it?" Miranda challenged. "Quit? I hear you want to be a writer, Andrea; you will never see the inside of another publication."
That shut Andy up; the threat of not having her dream career always did. She had never hated Miranda more than she did in that moment; the woman had the ability to give her everything she had ever hoped for, but the same ability to rip it away.
"What do you expect me to do about it?" Andrea asked, her voice calmer, though obviously upset.
"You're to go to her and you're to make sure she is at work for her shift tomorrow," Miranda replied. "And if you fail in doing so, you're fired."
Andy stared incredulously at Miranda, but said nothing; she had already spoken freely enough without getting fired. She wasn't going to push her luck. So instead of responding, she pushed off the door, forcing Miranda back a few steps, pulled it open, and left the bathroom.
~I~I~I
Andrea spent the rest of the day attempting to come up with logical arguments to get Emily back to work. None seemed reasonable, since Andrea couldn't even convince herself of any of them. By the time ten o'clock came around and The Book arrived at her desk, she had spent the day accomplishing absolutely nothing.
When she delivered The Book to Miranda's townhouse, Miranda was waiting for her in the sitting room. "Andrea," she called, and Andrea rolled her eyes, picking up the book from the table she'd deposited it on and heading for the room in question.
"Yes, Miranda?" Andrea asked as she handed The Book to the woman, summoning the most fake tone she could manage.
"Have you spoken to Emily?" Miranda asked, taking The Book and setting it in her lap.
"Working on it," Andrea responded. She didn't add that she really couldn't have gotten very far while doing both hers and Emily's jobs for the day.
"You haven't called her?"
"I figured I'd see her in person," Andrea replied with a shrug. "I'm heading over to her apartment when I leave here."
"Good," Miranda said. "Though it doesn't leave you much time, seeing as she has to be at work in..." she paused to check her watch. "Twelve hours."
"I said I'm working on it," Andrea ground out, a little sharper now. Miranda's brow lifted, but she only waved her hand.
"That's all."
Andrea turned on her heel and headed for the hallway, mouthing a mimicked "That's all" on her way. She hadn't been in this bad of a mood in a very long time; exactly how was she supposed to convince Emily of anything like this? They would likely end up killing each other. Opening the front door of Miranda's townhouse, she exited, heading down the steps and slipping into the town car.
"Home?" Roy asked, looking in the rearview mirror with a smile.
"Emily's," Andrea responded. Roy's brow arched. "Just do it, please. And don't mention to anyone I went over there."
"Sure thing," Roy said, pulling away from the curb and heading away from the townhouse.
I have a goddamn death wish.
~I~I~I
When the town car pulled up to Emily's apartment, Andrea told Roy to wait for a second in case Emily wasn't home. Andrea had no idea where the woman would be at this time a night otherwise, and she really didn't feel like going on a manhunt, so all she could do was pray.
Emily's apartment was not private entry, unfortunately, so Andrea had to ascend a small set of cement steps in order to ring a shiny silver buzzer with Emily's last name on it. The place was in good condition, all things considered; it wasn't the best neighborhood, but it definitely wasn't the worst. Andy couldn't see Emily living somewhere she deemed unfit, no matter how crappy the pay at Runway was. Even before her first time showing up at the place, Andy knew Emily lived in a far better neighborhood than Andy herself, judging by all of the scathing comments about tearing through every shit hole in the city until she found her and ripped her face off.
Three more rings, and Emily still hadn't answered the door. Furrowing her brow, Andrea pulled out her cellphone and hit the speed dial for Emily's, raising the device to her ear. It went straight to voicemail.
"Hey, Em," Andy said into the phone. "I just wanted to talk to you about a couple things. Call me, kay?" Hanging up, Andy cursed, turning on her heel and heading down the steps and back towards the town car. Miranda was going to fire her. It wasn't exactly fair, seeing as it really wasn't her fault; if Emily wouldn't talk to her, how was she supposed to convince her to come back to work?
Come on, really? Andy thought to herself. Since when has Miranda ever been fair about this?
She was screwed. As she climbed into the town car, Roy glanced in the rearview mirror; as much as Andy liked him, he really couldn't read moods very well.
"Everything okay?"
Andrea nodded. "Yeah," she said. "Don't bother waiting around for me after you drop Miranda off tomorrow."
Roy raised a brow. "No Book tomorrow?"
Andy couldn't bring herself to talk about the situation. So she just shook her head. "No."
~I~I~I
Andrea didn't bother getting out of bed the next morning. She was fired anyway. Her phone went off a total of thirteen times before her shift was even due to start, and she hit ignore on every call. The voicemail alert ringing loudly every five minutes (a setting she regretted putting on that phone in the first place) finally pulled her out of bed at a quarter after ten, and, after settling on the couch with a piece of toast and a bottle of water, she listened to the messages left for her.
There were four, all from Miranda.
7:15am: "I don't appreciate my calls being sent to voicemail, Andrea. Call me immediately."
7:25am: "If you are honestly sleeping through your phone calls, perhaps you better start going to bed earlier. Call me."
7:50am: "This is the last time I am calling you. If I do not receive a return phone call in ten minutes, you're fired."
9:30am: "Goddamnit, Andrea, where are you? Get in this office as soon as you get this. We need to talk about Emily."
Sighing, Andrea hit the button to mass delete the messages and took a long drink of her water. She had a feeling this wasn't going to end well. Something in the back of her head was shooting off warning signals; Miranda was the type to use Andrea's feelings for Emily to corner her and rip into her. What if she went in there, and this had nothing to do with Emily?
Hesitantly, Andy called Emily's phone again. Voicemail. Hanging up, Andy finished her toast and got up, heading into her room to find something semi-decent to wear; she wasn't going in to work, so she wasn't exactly concerned with how well put together she was today. Pulling on a plain white button up blouse, a pair of brown slacks, and two inch brown boots, she pulled a brush through her long hair and applied minimal makeup; nothing more than a layer of mascara and eyeliner. She didn't really care much what she looked like today, but she did know the business she was about to step into, and being the talk of the entire office was the last thing she needed, even when she wasn't there to endure it.
Grabbing her bag and her phone, Andrea headed out of her small apartment and towards the subway. It felt nice to be moving around at her own pace, instead of the lightning fast speed she had to maintain in order to keep up with the fashion world and Miranda's impossible needs. She was halfway to Starbucks when she finally got off the subway when she realized she didn't need to be making that run today.
Taking a deep breath, Andrea stepped into Elias-Clarke, preparing herself for the worst. Today, it really did feel like she was stepping into the Dragon Lady's lair.