A/N: Second update today-enjoy!

Chapter Nine

The following week at the office was relatively quiet. Andrea was busy interviewing new assistants. Miranda was feeling much better once she started wearing the maternity belt, and she actually found she was less tired than she was earlier in the pregnancy.

She had her twenty-week appointment on Monday and everything was progressing beautifully, according to Dr. Assaf. The babies were each just shy of one pound, and the doctor assured Miranda that the belly and back pain she was experiencing was round ligament pain and not contractions, as her cervix was still fully closed. She suggested some exercises to strengthen her pelvic floor, and advised Miranda to wear the maternity support belt for no longer than eight hours a day, as it could cause her body to rely on it too much and actually weaken the muscles she would need for childbirth.

Miranda explained that she had been thinking more about her birth plan and decided on a natural childbirth. Because it was a high-risk pregnancy, there would be a higher chance she would need an emergency cesarean, so Dr. Assaf strongly advised her to use one of the birthing suites at New York Presbyterian Weill Cornell Medical Center with its state-of-the-art surgical center and NICU. Not that she anticipated complications, but she explained to Miranda that she wanted her to be in the best possible place. Weill Cornell was one of the few hospitals in the area to allow midwives, and Dr. Assaf gave Miranda a list of several she had worked with recently that she recommended.

Miranda convinced Helen to stay for a few weeks, and she agreed only if Miranda would give Cara the two weeks off, which Miranda was happy to offer. Andrea didn't spend the night again after Saturday night, and while Miranda was curious, she didn't have time to dwell on it, as Helen kept everyone busy. Miranda secretly loved the extra attention from Helen, and it often made her wish her own mother could have been there for her these past thirty years.

On Thursday, Andrea received a call from Adam Moss's assistant at New York magazine, explaining that Adam had a chance to look over her portfolio and was interested in meeting with her. Andrea was floored—Adam was the Editor, and New York had just won a slew of awards the past year. She eagerly accepted the interview, and scheduled it for the following day, Friday, April 11.

The next day, Andrea spoke with Human Resources and hired Rachel Woodruff as the new second assistant. She would start immediately on Monday April 14, and would be compensated at a base hourly pay for the initial two-week training period, which was strictly limited to eight hours per day, forty hours per week. Andrea spent the rest of her day putting together a training program, complete with all the necessary information Rachel would need to learn. Promptly at 4:10 PM, Andrea stood from her desk, whispered something into Emily's ear, then headed out.

"Hi, Andy Sachs to see Adam Moss. I have a 4:30 interview."

"Oh, yes, hello, Ms. Sachs. We spoke on the phone. I'm Carla, Adam's assistant. He's on a call right now, but should be ready for you shortly, she said as she reached to take Andrea's coat. "Can I get you anything while you wait?"

"No, I'm fine. Thank you, Carla."

"Of course. And Ms. Sachs, I must say I love your shoes. I saw those online at Bergdorfs—Charlotte Olympia Monroe Slingback, right?"

"Yes," Andrea said, blushing slightly as she twisted her ankle. "These are way more comfortable than Louboutins, I have to say."

"Oh my god, I would die for a pair of Christian Louboutins!" Carla exclaimed.

Andrea smiled. "Have you ever been to Century 21 in Brooklyn? They have some steep discounts on pumps."

"No, I'll have to check that out. Thanks, Ms. Sachs."

"Please, call me Andy."

She smiled. Several minutes later, she stood and approached Andrea. "Ms. Sachs—I mean, Andy—Adam is ready to see you. Please follow me."

"Ms. Sachs, pleasure to meet you," he said, extending his hand.

For a split second, Andrea was shocked at how good-looking he was. He looked as if he was a middle-aged model, plucked from the pages of Details or something. Thick, salt-and-pepper hair was piled on his head in a messy, but contained sort of way. His thick-rimmed glasses and baby blue eyes sparkled, and his velvet Dolce & Gabanna jacket made her want to reach out and pet him.

"Yes," she said, returning her focus to the interview. "Mr. Moss, the pleasure's mine. Thank you for taking the time to meet with me," she said, not missing a beat.

"Ms. Sachs, I won't deny that you name has been circling lately. You are apparently highly recommended by Miranda Priestly herself."

Andrea blushed and looked down at her hands folded in her lap. "A fact I'm still struggling to comprehend. She really has been an incredible mentor."

"Yes, I'm sure. But strangely enough, she has not sent such recommendation over to us here at New York magazine. We received your portfolio five or six weeks ago, and it wasn't until I ran into David Remnick at a charity event last week that I learned of her regard for you."

"Oh, um, I'm sorry, but I'm not in a position to explain Miranda's actions," Andrea said.

"Nor should you have to. I just wanted to meet you for myself and see what you have to offer."

Andrea's eyes widened. "Thank you. I appreciate that."

"So, I really only have two questions for you, but we can talk about anything you'd like. I'm not going to ask things like your strengths or weaknesses or what you do when you're in a difficult situation. That might work for an hourly employee, but not for my writers and editors. I need to know what makes them tick, how their mind works, you know," he said. "So, first question: When did you know that you were a writer?"

Andrea took a deep breath. "In sixth grade, we learned how to diagram sentences. For the first time in my life, I felt like this sentence written on the chalkboard with its linear diagram reflected the language inside my head. I'm highly logical, and from a young age, I embraced the economy of words. I fell in love with the English language—which of course led me to study other languages, German, French, Spanish—and have since been in awe of the emotion that can be conveyed through rearranging somewhat common words in a different pattern. I contributed some short articles to my junior high publication, but in high school, I wasn't part of the paper. No one read my high school paper, and the teacher in charge of it was very unsupportive in terms of new ideas. In college, though, I found a different situation. As young adults, we were suddenly interested in what was going on in the world, and I contributed many times. My senior year, I was editor of The Daily Northwestern. I loved knowing that our editorial choices, our perspective was sometimes the only perspective some people got about some of these issues. College students don't watch the news all day long. For the most part, they don't have time to think about much more than their class assignments and projects. It was pretty empowering knowing that we were responsible for keeping most of the students in touch with the world."

"Excellent," he said. "I read your piece on the janitors' unions. That's solid reporting, Ms. Sachs."

"Thank you, and please, call me Andy."

"So, Andy," he continued, "why Runway?"

Andrea smiled. "Even though I anticipated this question, I'm afraid I don't have the perfect answer," she said. "I was desperate, and I submitted my application to every single newspaper from the Times to the Village Voice. When that didn't pan out, I began applying to magazines, hoping to gain some sort of experience that could help me get my foot in the door at a newspaper. I met with Human Resources at Elias Clarke and at the time, there were two openings—Runway or Auto Universe. I hadn't heard of either, though the title of the latter suggested it was about cars. I took the interview at Runway, and honestly my life has been a whirlwind since then. I was supposed to interview with Miranda's assistant, but by some fluke, Miranda walked in and wanted to interview me herself. It was hardly an interview. She wouldn't even touch the C.V. that I set on her desk. I tried to tell her about my experience as editor in college, and she did this thing where she flicks her fingers at me, signaling for me to leave. She was judging me by my looks—my hair was frizzy and I was wearing a tweed jacket with no shape from Casual Corner. I was so appalled that she hadn't even considered me, I told her just what I thought. And then left. I was so humiliated, I just wanted to crawl into a hole. To my surprise, she sent her assistant down to the lobby to bring me back upstairs and hired me on the spot. At first, I had all these thoughts about maintaining my integrity and not becoming another fashionista roaming the halls of Runway. But one day, it kind of hit me that in order to be successful in life, you often have to look the part. Not that you need to wear designer labels to work for a fashion magazine, but more like you have to carry yourself with an air of sophistication and snobby confidence to be recognized. It isn't that much different than what Aristotle argues about disguising your language based upon your audience, and when I realized that, I didn't feel as if I were letting myself down so much as I was making myself heard. No, I wasn't a fashionista, but I deserved to be there just as much as anyone else. And that, I guess, is why I chose to stay at Runway. Not to mention that working for Miranda instills the fear of blacklisting in you from day one," she added with a chuckle.

"Did Miranda ever threaten to fire you?"

"There were a few times that she insinuated if I didn't complete the task sufficiently, my services would no longer be needed, but I mean, that comes with any job. If you don't do your job correctly and don't perform up to standards, you risk losing said job. It's just that Miranda's standards are incredibly higher than most."

"And yet she never fired you? I hear there are some days she fires half her staff in one go."

"That's not true. She does have high standards, but she always lets you know if you're not meeting her expectations. Some people simply don't have it in them to work any harder, and then, well, working for Miranda probably isn't the best fit. She pushes each and every one of her staff to do better than they ever though possible."

"Well surely, you remember last fall when she fired the entire accessories department?"

"Miranda relies on her staff to bring fresh, creative ideas. The industry is built on being the first to identify trends—much like newspapers strive to be the first to break a story. When the staff becomes to comfortable, they don't take risks and they don't look outside the box, which is by definition the very essence of their role."

"So, I'm not going to get you to criticize Miranda Priestly on the record, am I?"

Andrea grinned. "She's a bitch. She's ruthless, and she will do whatever it takes to survive. Happy? She's also an incredible mother to her children, and a very thoughtful and kind woman."

Adam smiled. "Do you have any questions for me?"

"Actually, yes. Which position am I interviewing for? I really don't want to waste any more of your time if this is a lateral move for me."

"I completely understand, and, no, this would not be an assistant role. To be perfectly honest, we have one staff writer position open at the moment, though in the next few months we will have a few additional, slightly better positions. I still have a few other candidates to meet with before we can best decide who would fit where and formally make an offer."

"Excellent, thank you."

"Anything else?" he asked.

"No," she said, standing and reaching out to shake his hand.

"Andy, are you free on Sunday evening?" Adam asked.

Andrea's heart began racing. He couldn't be asking her—no—it couldn't be.

"I'm only asking because my boyfriend Daniel and I are having a small gathering at our home, and I'd love for you to join us. There will be a few other writers and editors from the magazine there, and I'd love for them to meet you, as well."

Andrea sighed in relief. "I would love to, thank you," she said.

"Of course. Carla can send you the details. Look forward to seeing you," he called as she headed out of her office and back to the front desk.

Once Andrea left the building, she hailed a cab back to her apartment, still reeling from the unusual interview and ensuing invitation. She was relieved to learn that Adam had a boyfriend, but was concerned that he had something against Miranda.

When she got upstairs, she let herself into her apartment tossed her bag on the ground, walking over to the bedroom to change out of her clothes. Just then, she saw Miranda curled up on her side, fast asleep on Andrea's bed.

Andrea quietly slipped out of her shoes, then curled up behind her in bed.

"Andrea?" Miranda said, waking and turning onto her back.

"Shh, yes, it's just me. Go back to sleep."

Miranda shook her head and propped herself up against the headboard. "Why didn't you tell me about the interview? Or Rachel? And why haven't you been over all week?"

"I'm sorry," she said, burying her face in Miranda's neck. "I don't know why."

"Is it because Helen is staying here? She can go back at any time, you know."

"No, that's not it at all. I just kind of got nervous. Someone's going to find out about us and it will be a mess," Andrea said.

"Oh, darling, please don't worry about that," she said, gently stroking Andrea's back. "So tell me about your interview."

"How did you know?"

"Emily told me."

"What? I told her not to tell anyone."

"Apparently she's more afraid of me than of you. Who was it with?"

"Adam Moss."

"Really?" Miranda asked as she pulled back in shock.

"Yes. Why are you surprised?"

"Oh, well, I haven't spoken to him in twenty some years, that's all."

"What happened between you two?"

"Why did something have to 'happen?'"

"I know you, and there's something you're not telling me. Plus, he was really trying to get me to cut you down in the interview."

"Pfft," Miranda huffed. "Figures."

"So?"

"Fine. Back in 1980, which was well before you were even born, I was working as a Junior Editor at Runway. I had only been at the magazine for a year, and I was seeing Daniel Kaizer, a copyeditor at Random House, on and off. I don't even remember all the details, but he certainly wasn't my boyfriend. We just happened to be photographed together a few times, and there was a rather incriminating picture of him leaving my apartment in the early hours of the morning that made it onto Page Six. The next day, I received a call from Adam, who was working at Rolling Stone at the time, and he accused me of having an affair with his boyfriend and demanded that I stop seeing him. I was rather appalled that he thought it appropriate to pick up the phone and call me, but Daniel was nothing to me, so I had no problem backing away. I certainly didn't want to be caught up in their relationship, that's for sure."

"So, this Daniel…that's the same Daniel he's still with?" Andrea asked.

"Yes, they've been together since then. Why?"

"Ughhhh," Andrea groaned. "Adam invited me to a dinner party Sunday evening at their place. Daniel will be there."

"Well, darling, it's not like you have to walk up to him and introduce yourself as my girlfriend or anything," Miranda said.

"I know. But Adam was just so damn interested in you. I'm sure Daniel will be the same. I wish I could bring you as my date."

Miranda laughed. "That would be perfect. Are you going to their party?"

"Yeah. He basically told me there were a few positions open—one for staff writer and a few editorial positions that would be open in the coming months. He seemed impressed with me, and I got the impression that this dinner party would be my sort of final impression with the other staff."

"Well yes, that sounds like a wonderful opportunity. Did he say which sections he was considering you for, or do you not care?"

"Honestly, I'll write about anything."

"Do you mind my asking what you said about me?"

"I tried to be honest. He told me you didn't send a recommendation to him, so I was already suspicious of your relationship. I didn't want to come across as defending you too much. I basically told him what I thought of you at first, but then how I came to realize you did what you had to do, and that I'm grateful to have you as a mentor."

"Andrea, I need to point out that he may just be offering you a position to get back at me, since he knows you're one of my employees and that I'm personally recommending you elsewhere."

"Yeah, I know. I'm okay with that. I mean, it doesn't matter, right?"

"Well, if we do come out, what will he say then?"

"Oh shit. I guess he would be one of the few who would have the balls to fire Miranda Priestly's girlfriend, huh?"

"Probably."

"Well, let's just wait and see if I'm offered a position and what the details are," Andrea said.

"Okay. When will your last day at Runway be?"

"What? Oh, I didn't plan that yet."

"Now that you're training a new assistant, I need to give Irv a heads-up when he sees changes to our expenditures."

"So, Rachel agreed to a two-week training period at base hourly pay, forty hours per week. I should be able to have her up to speed by then. Then, I was thinking—"

"I could move Emily to Nigel's team, and Rachel could fill Emily's role while you work on training someone else."

"Exactly. Would that work? If not, I could give my two weeks and Rachel can replace me. Whichever."

"I will talk with Irv. I think it will be best if I switch you to contractor effective immediately. You can be responsible for training new assistants, and I can arrange for Elias Clarke to pay a portion of your fee, while I would supply the rest."

"Whatever, I trust you. Would anything be different?"

"I think you would have to forfeit your insurance coverage. I can make sure you are covered through a temporary plan until you find a job. As long as you don't have any substantial medical costs, it shouldn't be a problem."

"Not a problem. Listen, I'm starving. Will you stay for dinner?"

"I'm here all night. James and Helen took the girls to dinner, and then a play. I actually think they're going to stay with James this weekend."

"Perfect," Andrea said.

Sunday evening's dinner party actually went really well. They lived in a loft in SoHo, and it was a gorgeous space. Adam introduced Andrea to several other staff writers and they all seemed so down-to-earth. The exact opposite of Runway gatherings. Towards the end of the night, Daniel approached her as she was admiring some of their artwork. She thanked him for his generosity in hosting that evening, and Daniel said how highly Adam spoke of her after their interview.

"So you work for Miranda Priestly right now?" he asked, quieter.

Andrea nodded.

"She's an old friend of mine. Well, not old, but you know, we knew each other long ago. I hear she's pregnant, is that true?"

"Yes," Andrea said with a smile, turning her focus back to the Kandinsky on the wall.

"When you see her, will you give her my best? We haven't spoken in decades, but, well, I'm glad she's happy."

Andrea quietly nodded.

"Don't say anything to Adam, okay?"

"Of course."

Two seconds later, Adam walked up to the pair, placing his hand on each of their shoulders. "So, I see you two have met," he said.

"Yes, Daniel was just telling me about this remarkable Kandinsky," Andrea said. "How was it you said you acquired it again?"

"In Toronto," Daniel said.

"Oh, right, right. I was getting it confused with the Gaugin over there," she said, casually pointing to the opposite wall. "You have an exquisite collection," she said.

"Thank you, Ms. Sachs. If you'll excuse us for just one moment," he said, pulling his partner away. They were standing in the corner, out of earshot of most everyone, except Andrea, who had trained her ears to translate the slightest vibrations into words. "Well?" Adam hissed.

"Well what? She's brilliant. Fast-thinking, witty, charming, and would be a perfect addition to your staff."

"You really think so?"

Daniel nodded and walked away.

The following week, Andrea hadn't heard any more from New York magazine. An associate editor at the Wall Street Journal had offered her another interview, which was scheduled for two weeks out. They didn't have an open position, but were rather proactively interviewing.

Helen returned to Boston later that week, and Andrea saw how all three Priestly women were going to miss her presence. It was something that made her consider how her own mother would get along with them. Of course, her mother was only ten years older than Miranda, but still. She could see her fitting in.

On Monday, April 28, Andrea was at the doctor's office with Miranda for her twenty-three-week appointment. It was Rachel's first day as second assistant, and Emily's first day on Nigel's team. The babies were 18 and 19 ounces, and her belly was measuring 31 centimeters fundal height. As Miranda was getting dressed, Andrea's phone rang. She excused herself and quickly took the call.

"Hey Andy, it's Adam Moss."

"Oh, hello, Adam."

"Do you have a minute?"

"Certainly."

"Good. I wanted to tell you that we were all very impressed with your work and we think you have a bright future. If it wasn't obvious, the dinner party was really the second part of your interview."

"I assumed as much, thank you."

"Well, I think I have even better news for you. I'd like to offer you the position of Style Editor for New York magazine."

"Seriously?"

Adam chuckled. "Yes, seriously. I take it you're surprised?"

"No, I mean, yes, a little. Wow, thank you."

"Andy, we'd love to have you on our team. Please, take some time to think about it. I'll have Carla send over the offer letter that has specifics about salary, benefits, and what not. Don't hesitate to call me this weekend if you have any questions."

"Wow, thank you so much. I'll look everything over right away and get back to you early next week."

"Perfect. Take care, Andy."

"Bye."

Miranda walked out of the exam room and met Andrea in the hall. "What's wrong? Who was that?"

Andrea smiled. "I just got a job."

TBC