Author Note:- Thank you everyone for such wonderful reviews. It's so lovely to see people complimenting my work after being gone so long. I was aiming to have this up before 7 days but my illness flared up. Been on my co-codamol for the last week and today I've been stuck on Dihydrocodeine - So i've been very drowsy and I have the letters QWERTY permanently imprinted where I've passed out on my keyboard lol. Still I finally got this chapter fixed. I have written up to chapter 8 so far but the time is being taken by me ensuring its written to the best of my current ability because they were written so long ago.

Hopefully this was worth the wait. Fingers crossed you all enjoy it :). I'll try to get the next one up in about 7 days again.

Flitt x

P.s Thanks to Peet for beta-ing my work for me :).

P.p.s - Disclaimer. No money. Not just from this. I literally have no money *weeps*.


Chapter Two

Her evening crept by at a painfully slow pace. Every glance gifted to the clock barely erasing a single second from her shift.

It was agonising.

She'd tried to ease the burden of the evening with alcohol. The constant flow of liquor had been an irresistible temptation. Yet, despite the few glasses now thrumming through her veins she was unable to numb her body to the amorous attentions of her 'date'. Stephen's hands were determinedly roving into unwelcome areas. No matter how often she'd brushed his attentions aside, his flirting never seemed to cease. Her skin crawled every time he touched her and with the alcohol aided waves within her stomach, she wanted to wretch.

Stephen's happiness on the other hand seemed to escalate as the evening progressed. His attention toward her could almost be deemed as doting. A constant clamor of caring attention willingly disposed in her direction for all eyes to see. When it came to faking it Andy couldn't fault him. His performance was spectacular. To the eyes of the crowd they were an item.

Especially one pair of eyes in particular.

A shiver danced down Andy's spine as the atmosphere in the room seemed to descend into silence. The air hung heavy as many eyes roved over her shoulder, fascinated by something, or someone, standing barely a few inches away.

'Good Evening.'

A greeting coated in ice whispered over her shoulder. It was a familiar voice. With a fluttering timber that would forever float at the edge of her mind.

Andy would have done anything to die. She would have welcomed an earthquake and eagerly cast herself into crack beneath her feet. A few minutes ago she would have sworn her night couldn't have gotten any worse than it already was. That theory had just been blown out of the water. Like an approaching tidal wave she had no hope of survival. She didn't want to turn. Didn't want to face the figure she knew to be behind her. Once acknowledged the nightmare would truly begin. She just wanted to deny their presence a little bit longer.

She started to pray. A desperate mantra in her mind hoping the woman was addressing someone else; that the voice would vanish into the distance. She clung to any shred of hope. Anything she could cast her mind to. It was a desperate attempt to delay the confrontation that was sure to come when she turned to gaze into the face of her living nightmare.

Her wishes were never granted.

With a grinning Stephen super-glued to her side, his hands forced her to swivel. His actions finally bringing her face to face with Miranda Priestly.

His voice oozed sycophantic glee, 'Good Evening Miranda, this is a nice surprise.'

His comment was ignored as bright blue eyes widened with surprise. Andy had barely remembered ever seeing such an expression on her ex boss's face in her history of working at Runway. Only once and Stephen had stood by her side then. Sending a scathing look before walking away from his wife after she'd waded into the centre of their argument. Why was she always caught between these two?

Andy was unable to look away. Her eyes stung, too fearful to even blink under the intensity of Miranda's gaze. She watched as the older woman's guard crumbled for a split second before the muscles in her face tensed. Any evidence of her emotions was immediately suffocated beneath a mask of control. It was well practiced. Once the walls were up, nothing seeped through her defence. Andy had always been in awe. This was the editor, the icon. This woman was a robot functioning in the wild world of fashion.

'A 'nice' surprise is debatable in this instance, Stephen,' Miranda flicked her head, her fringe fluttering from the motion. Turning her attention away from Andy she continued to speak her focus solely on her husband. Determinedly trying to avoid eavesdropping Andy kept her eyes and ears firmly away from the argument developing between the sparring spouses. Shame their separation didn't extend to events.

Tuning everything out, she turned her attention to Miranda's outfit. The Editor was dressed in a dark navy gown. Flashes of silver peaked out from the underside, escaping into the light through every pleat and fold. It clung to every curve, cascading over her legs like a waterfall. There was slit at the side. The detail would have been almost invisible if it hadn't been for her current stance. Parted barely an inch, it gifted the crowd with a tantalising glimpse of silken skin. As always with Miranda her outfit had a teasing element to add an edge to the elegance. Andy's gaze inched higher, finally drawn in by the cresting edge of the dress where waves of colour washed into silken skin.

Her breathing sounded shallow as her eyes scanned over the expanse of skin bravely displayed above the heart shape bustle. The 'V' dipped dramatically down. Not enough to teeter on the edge of decent but it delivered an alluring impact. She should stop looking. The voice in her head was telling her to tear her eyes away and look anywhere else. There were hundreds of men and women milling around. All of them were a viable distraction. So why was her attention so focused on a single one? Miranda's voice drifted in and out of Andy's thoughts.

'Trust I should find you here and as always with a random woman,'

'Not so random Miranda. I believe you've met Andrea.' His hand came to rest on Andy's lower back, 'In fact I think it's you I have to thank for introducing us.'

Andy tensed, eyes snapping up. Miranda's head tilted slightly to the side, eyes almost seeming to fight the desire to fall on her ex-assistant again. She cast the briefest of glances before darting her attention back to Stephen. The idiot still had a sickening grin plastered on his face. Andy gritted her teeth. She hated being used in any situation but to wound another woman intentionally was abhorrent to her. She knew Miranda was vulnerable even if the woman would never admit it. Paris had been evidence enough. Now here her husband was attempting to deliver a new wound, right in the middle of Miranda's world. Stephen's plan was darkly outlined in all its evil intent and it only further cemented her hatred of him. She knew now. He'd known Miranda would be here and he'd wanted to make her hurt. Any nameless woman would have done it but an ex-assistant was a severely low blow one which would drive the tabloids wild. Stephen chooses a lowly assistant over the queen of Fashion. If only she could leave. She'd give anything to announce the situation she was in. How good would it feel to announce to the crowd that he'd had to pay to have her by his side and that she found him totally repulsive? How could Miranda have ever loved this man? Had she ever loved him, could she even love? Andy scanned her. Again she was met with the subtle flick of her head, Miranda's signature sign of nonchalance.

'Yes she was an assistant of mine, one among many. I'm surprised you remember.'

'I always remember a pretty face.'

Andy saw Miranda's body tighten, her jaw clenching ever so slightly. She felt ill, a sick feeling bubbling up violently in the face of his comment. She hated the thought that Stephen found her remotely attractive. That he could even consider it after being married to the stunning figure in front of her for three years was almost unbelievable. Not to mention totally disgusting. This man was old enough to be her Father. Then again Miranda was old enough to be her mother. Would she find it as repulsive if Miranda dated anyone her age? Andy frowned barely assessing this thought before she panicked. It was quickly filed away. The unnerving emotion exiled with all the flurries of feeling that had ever inconveniently clamoured through her heart. A subconscious pile of denial and it was all related to Miranda. She couldn't focus on anything. Not her ex-boss or her husband. She wanted to run but there was nowhere to hide. She was surrounded by a siege of attention and hundreds of ears eagerly pricked towards every word of the conversation.

'Of course you do,' she smiled a sickly grin at him, her eyes like the colour of ice, 'but most of them never remember you and I keep trying to forget.'

'I've always been unforgettable.'

'In an appalling capacity, indeed you have.'

Andy heard his growl. The tension was crackling around them. She contained her smile at Miranda's low blow, surprised that the woman would be so willingly underhanded while Andy was in their inner circle. Maybe it was unintentional. Maybe Miranda hadn't been aware of the undertones. Then again maybe she'd been determined to hit him where it hurt and humiliate him in front of Andy. Half of her was fascinated. The other half wished she wasn't here, that she wasn't hearing this. She didn't want to think of them in any capacity, especially not sexually.

The word slowly turned over in her head, sex. It was something she'd never imagined the editor engaging in. Now, that seemed silly. Of course Miranda did. She'd had twins and three husbands. Sex was most certainly somewhere in there. Despite the resistance Andy couldn't help but wonder what she'd be like. At this thought a stream of images flooded before her eyes. The sight almost forced an involuntary gasp out of Andy. All she could see was silken skin and parted pink lips. Miranda's hands pinned either side of her silver hair as her skin shimmered in the low light, chest heaving as her orgasmic cry died out. Shit. Closing her eyes Andy tore into her imaginings desperate to regain control. She'd never imagined Miranda like that before. She couldn't even comprehend the woman losing control. Yet in her head she just had, beautifully so. Lust tingled beneath her skin, her mind whirling in surprise. No, no, no, this couldn't be happening. She was having erotic thoughts about her ex-boss. The woman who was currently stood inches away arguing with her husband. The man Andy was tied to for the night.

This was wrong on a number of levels.

Andy kept her eyes downcast as the conversation continued, not even looking up as Miranda addressed her directly.

'Good luck Andrea.' Miranda stepped forward, her shoulder brushing into her as her whispered breath bruised over her skin 'You're going to need it.' It was a threat. The words were soft yet their impact was unpleasantly hard. The deliverance was a flawless imitation of a concrete glove wrapped in velvet.

Miranda was going to get her revenge.

She shivered, knowing the fight was far from finished. The final blow was coming. The editor would be sure to deliver a knock-out punch. Like a follow through with the consequences of her actions, Andy wouldn't witness it before it hit but without a doubt, it was going to hurt.


Andy's eyes hardly left the clock from then on. Her gaze constantly cast over the innocent hands only to witness each minute tick by at a painfully slow pace. She'd seen silver hair weaving amongst the crowd. Her nerves tortured her with every subtle silver flash. In the brief moments she had seen the older woman Andy could have sworn her eyes had zeroed in on her but when Andy had looked over Miranda was consumed in conversation. Her undivided attention focused upon another nameless rich figure amongst the masses.

Andy was waiting for the killer blow. The older woman had made her intentions clear. She'd attempted to talk to herself. Convince her mind her suspicions were simple paranoia. She failed. Andy couldn't fall for the lie. She knew it wasn't over. Miranda never left her unequal adversaries standing and Andy was an easy target. Miranda hated her. If she hadn't before she definitely did now. There was no doubt. The older woman would assume, like everyone else, that Andy was fucking her husband.

She jumped as Stephen's hand smoothed around her waist. Her head whipped round, surprised to find Miranda's attention this time directed intently at her. Her expression was unreadable. Blue eyes slowly flicked to her husband's roving hand before darting back up to meet Andy's eyes, eyebrow inching upward in a mixture of challenge and intrigue. She clearly found it hard to comprehend the idea of Andy dating her husband. Surely she had to grant her a greater intelligence, didn't she?

Andy tore her eyes away. She couldn't cope with this. The world felt like it was clamouring in on her, blue orbs swimming before her eyes. The vision was like a constant stream of images split between realms of reality and dreams. Her fantasy was determined to fuse with the figure staring directly at her. She had to get away, desperate for some fresh air.

'Um, excuse me, I need to...I'm going to the bathroom.'

She extricated herself from his grip. Dropping his arm from her hand like a python she squirmed away from his attention before losing herself in the swarm of people around her. She gasped for breath as she burst from the crowd walking the short distance to the ladies.

She sighed in relief to find it empty.

How long she remained in there she didn't know. Wide brown eyes were staring back at her from a face that was beginning to evolve before her eyes. Changing into a woman she didn't recognise. New desires were hiding behind her eyes. The facts she'd forced away finally flooding to the service. She'd never, ever, thought of a woman that way, at least not with that level of interest. Sure she'd been intrigued, slightly but she'd never thought to pursue it with any intent. At least she didn't think so. Everything didn't seem so certain anymore. Her mind was analyzing every action, thought and feeling towards a female. Anything abnormal was dissected with ravage interest determined to hunt out the honest root of the issue. She couldn't get a grip on it all. The internal flames of doubt licked along her memories blurring everything she'd ever understood. The stab of craving her fantasy formed had inflicted a fresh wound on her heart. It was an emotion that was easy to analyse. The sting of desire now throbbed ensuring it was impossible to ignore. Her fingers flexed, gripping the sink for support. Why did this matter? Why did she care? She couldn't pursue this even if she unravelled it all and found a shred of lingering lust towards the icy editor. Maybe it was the evening getting to her head. Tomorrow she'd wake up alone in her home and think over tonight with a large level of relief that it was over. Her memory might barely grant a fleeting thought to her unfounded fantasies.

Running the tap, she cupped her hands together. The cool liquid pooled in her palms before they lifted and brought it to her lips to sip. It was cool and welcome, helping her to sober up. She needed to snap out of it, clear the haze in her head and get a hold of herself.

Drying her hands she adjusted her dress for the fiftieth time that evening and slipped out the door. The hall was empty. A quick scan gathered no evidence of another party in the immediate vicinity. It was only as slender fingers wrapped round her wrist and tugged her into an alcove that she realised she wasn't alone. She gasped as the wall slammed up against her back. Her mind whirled as Miranda's face swam into focus inches from her own and she found herself staring into an angry pair of blue eyes.

'What an earth do you think you're doing?'

Her head was ringing. Blinking, Andy chose to go on the offensive. The battle was about to begin. 'I could ask you the same thing.'

'Don't be smart with me, answer the question. Why are you with my Husband?'

'I,' she paused stalling, not knowing how to answer. 'You've separated haven't you?' Come on Andy think of an answer, anything that doesn't involve sex or money. She desperately scrabbled to get a hold of herself and calm her hammering heart. Miranda had never been in such close proximity and the scent of her perfume was stinging into her senses as she invaded her space.

'If you think our separation makes it okay then your intelligence is severely lacking. The press will pounce on you like a pack of hounds if they think you're bedding my ex. Surely you're not so stupid Andrea, to partake in his little games.'

'I don't think that. I'm not...I'm,' Andy floundered, money, bills, silence, whirling around in her head. If she spoke the truth her payment would bleed between her fingertips. She shifted slightly trying to ease out of Miranda's grasp only to feel her fingers tighten further. They wrapped around the tops of her arms pinning them by her side. She felt anger bubble up, her eyes narrowing at her ex-tormentor. She was almost disappointed that Miranda would think her silly enough to sleep with her husband. Then again, Miranda had seen something in him. What? Andy would never know but Andy knew Miranda would see every action as an aim for revenge.

'I find it hard to believe you've filled my place in his bed before it's barely cold.'

'I haven't been anywhere near his bed.'

'Semantics, so he hasn't had 'you' in his bed, yet. That just leaves everywhere else. How long have you been together? The answer better be after Runway or god, help me, there will be no place on earth for you to hide.'

'He hasn't had me anywhere. Tonight was the first night I've ever gone out with him,'

'So tonight would be the night then? Would he have had you here in the hotel or would you have headed back to his house?'

'I wouldn't have gone anywhere with him, not here, not his house, nowhere. I'm not stupid.'

'And yet you're here. Why you? Of all the women who've worked for me, why would he pick you?'

'How am I supposed to know?' Andy frowned, noting the emphasis was all wrong. Her frustration simmered under the surface as she hissed in a hushed voice, 'Which bit is it you're most bothered by Miranda? The fact he's sleeping with someone other than you, or the fact you THINK it's me?'

Miranda's eyes flicked to Andy's mouth for a moment, before boring back into hers. The cold immediately settled in as her eyes narrowed. Andy felt her tense, the only evidence lying in the pressure of her hands. They would leave finger prints without a doubt. She'd be temporarily branded, tattooed by Miranda's touch.

Andy fought back a shiver as Miranda's voice rumbled out in a low tone, light but deadly. 'Don't make me ask you again Andrea, why are you with my husband?' Andy eyed her warily, infuriated. Miranda had ignored her own question but demanded she answer hers. She remained silent and defiant. 'Answer me!' Miranda snapped, her voice escalating slightly from the constant calm alto. Her voice wobbled as she shook Andy, drawing her towards her barely an inch only to bang her against the wall again. It was too much. She was torn between two poisonous players with her heart swelling up with venomous intent. It was like she'd been bitten by the lust bug as the heat from Miranda's skin flared into her in a constant wave of awareness of the other woman. Andy had a headache. Her body was clawing inside out torn between closing the distance and running away. She had to escape. Her head swam as her heart choked, fighting for her attention. Andy gasped for breath. Her body desperately called for calm as her eyes darted down, trailing over every contour of the editor's body. Her eyes fell on her chest, her bosom heaving from the angry onslaught of emotion triggered by Andy's silence.

She had to get away.

Head devoid of sensible thought she shoved Miranda aside. Pulling her arms from her grasp, she darted round the corner only to collide with something solid. A familiar scent invaded her head. It was revoltingly sweet, tainted with old cigar smoke. The smell made her heave. Arms wrapped round her even as she struggled, his voice coming close to her ear. 'Miss me?'

She tried to pull from his grasp. The wriggling was futile unable to break his grip. She heard heels behind her and knew Miranda was close to approaching. Still Andy was unable to escape. The silence cracked in the air as the staccato of the editors stilettos died. In unison she felt Stephen's fingers tangle in her hair forcing his lips onto hers.

She wretched as the bile finally bubbled into her throat. She was sickened by his touch, his taste. She hit his chest, her nails clawing for his face trying to break away. Miranda would be watching no doubt waiting to finally finish her off in the face of her fury. Andy never expected to feel warm fingers wrap round her wrist or a very rough tug ripping her from his grasp.

'How dare you!'

Andy blinked, hands flying out in an attempt to steady her-self. She opened her mouth, preparing to answer only to find Miranda's anger wasn't directed at her.

The editor's body was now barring his access to Andy, her fingers possessively holding her. The air seemed to sizzle around them. Her anger made her even more formidable, strength oozing from every pore. How Stephen could have ever taken her on in an argument? Andy couldn't even imagine. Miranda was the definition of power and he was the epitome of weakness.

'Jealous?' He smirked, undeterred by her sudden outburst. To Andy he was almost egged on by her reaction. He seemed happy to have hurt her.

Andy felt Miranda's fingers flex around her wrist. The silence hung between her and her husband for a second before he delivered the final blow. 'You should be. Andy's amazing in bed.' Andy choked, 'you on the other hand were always a disappointment. You definitely don't live up to the dream Miranda. It's why all your men hunted it elsewhere. How does it feel to be a failure, against an assistant no less?'

The editor lurched forward her hand swinging out. Her calmness had long fled, the ugliness of uncontrollable rage rearing its head.

'Miranda!'

Andy reacted without thinking tugging the woman back into her. Holding her arms down Andy was determined to prevent an attack that the coward now smirking over at them would love to witness.

'Not as controlled as you like everyone to think? You'd hate for people to find out the true failure you really are, as a mother and a wife. Being bad in bed is the least of your problems, you're as icy as everyone thinks. Is it any surprise your men welcome warmth elsewhere?'

Andy was frozen unable to believe the things falling from his lips. The violent vitriol a vicious dagger intending to maim the women she held in her arms. She felt Miranda still. Her body had gone ridged beneath her fingers as she desperately tried to draw back the control that had long fled under his onslaught of insults. He was a horrid, horrid man and no matter the damage Miranda had done over the years she didn't deserve this. Andy would not be involved in this anymore. She'd seen Miranda broken in Paris, was aware the woman had a heart and here Stephen was attempting to shatter it piece by piece.

She just wanted it to end. She should lie. It was her duty but she didn't want to. She couldn't, not anymore. In all honesty she'd had enough of tonight and the disgusting pretence that she was his other half. Sure she could keep the lie going when it involved many unknown, nameless nobodies but not with Miranda. She wouldn't do this to Miranda.

Besides, Andy was well aware it wasn't in her interest to lie even if it cost her, her money. If Miranda left this argument as angry as she'd entered it Andy would lose far more than that. Stephen didn't care about what happened to Andy in all this. He was getting his own kicks and like always she was nothing but a pawn on his board, ready to be sacrificed in the ultimate aim of the game.

She wouldn't take a fall for him. Miranda meant more than that.

Andy knew how much the answer would cost her. Not only a blow to her wallet. Tonight was a bad time to discover Miranda's opinion of her mattered more than she thought. In the face of her feelings she realised the evening was over. She couldn't continue feigning interest in him. Miranda was the final subject in the equation that made this evening too sour for Andy to take.

She paused for a moment, watching Stephen take a breath, 'You're just the cold hearted, frigid little bitch everyone thinks you are.'

*CRACK*, Pain echoed through Andy's palm, Stephen's head wrenching to the side as a handprint blossomed over his cheek. A shocked silence descended between them. Then two sets of eyes turned on Andy as her voice ripped it apart.

'STOP! Just stop it. You evil son of a bitch how dare you say such things? How dare you drag me into all this! How can you say such things to her? She doesn't deserve this. You lying, cheating, low life little sleaze. You make me sick. What she saw in you I'll never know but I've had enough. '

Stephen's eyes narrowed, sensing he'd over stepped the line. If Andy spoke up a pivotal part of his plan would be damaged. 'Andy' he paused, forcing a smile on his face as his arms reached out for her, 'darling, calm down and remember why you're here.'

'Don't touch me!' She slapped his hand away. All her energy was focused on him now, forgetting the other set of eyes watching her wide with surprise. Every reaction followed through without thinking, her mouth running away in her anger. 'No amount of money is worth listening to this.'

Miranda's voice pierced Andy's anger. She froze; her body stiff as she turned to the older woman aware she'd given the game away.

'Money?'

Andy sighed, her attention turning to Miranda, 'He's...'

'Andy! Remember the rules.'

'Screw the rules,' her words were spat at him. 'I've had it, you've dragged me into some silly game and I'm not part of it anymore, I refuse.'

'If I'm right, you don't have a choice. So I'd shut up before you get nothing for tonight.'

Andy gritted her teeth her fingers balling by her side. The Money was running through her head. How much would she lose? How much had she already lost? She could get fired for this. Giving the game away and embarrassing her client in front of his ex no less was career suicide but she no longer cared. With Miranda angry at her and his sickening insinuations she'd cracked. All she wanted to do was run out of here and head home. She could break away from it all and curl up clean and cosy with a bottle of wine.

'Andrea, is he paying you?'

Miranda's expression remained passive, not giving anything away as Andy's turned to look at her. At her words the anger seemed to seep away, shoulders falling in defeat. She felt ashamed of behaviour and sickened at making herself sound like a whore. To her a job was a job and she did it to live but under those bright blue eyes she felt dirty. She was tainted by each client's touch, especially his. She hadn't ever slept with them but without a doubt it was what Miranda assumed the moment she heard her answer. Andy attempted to swallow back the tears as they stung behind her eyes. A subtle nod was all Miranda needed as confirmation.

Silence descended around them for a brief moment. Each member of the trio collected their thoughts in the face of the recent revelation. They took the time to reassign their position in the argument, trying to plan where to take it from there. Miranda's voice was surprisingly calm and controlled when she spoke.

'Money? Is nothing beneath you Stephen?'

'She needs the money, it's a job. I'm doing her a favour which is more than you ever did. So we'll be walking out here arm in arm ready for the photos to hit tomorrow's papers.'

Miranda didn't look at Andy as she spoke. Her eyes now fixed resolutely on her husband, 'I'll double it, what he's paying you. If it's about money more should solve this issue once and for all.'

Stephen clenched his fists, 'Miranda you can't be serious.'

'Deadly,' she cast a glance at Andy, 'if you wish to walk out of here with him then do so but remember you'll lose more than money if you do.'

Stephen sneered, his voice only showing a slight warble indicating his nerves. He was well aware he was losing the battle. 'Threats Miranda? What were you saying earlier about nothing being beyond me?'

'I'm paying to protect my reputation and my children. I have no desire for them to see you parading another floozy on your arm, especially one that used to work for me. You on the other hand are paying for a personal vendetta and god only knows what else. There's a big difference.'

'A whore's a whore. You're still paying for her whatever it is you want out of it.'

Andy scowled, opening her mouth to argue. How dare he call her a whore? She did nothing more than stand by his side all evening. It was all she ever did and to describe her in such a disgusting and demeaning manner was too much to take. Her words were cut by a wave of Miranda's hand ending the argument immediately.

'Enough, Stephen leave. Andrea, I believe you'll be coming with me for the remainder of the evening.'

Andy paused, staring down the man before her knowing she had no choice. She wouldn't walk out with him for any amount of money but being paid to remain by Miranda's side didn't tempt her in the slightest either.

She was confused, angry and still half hung over. Her mind was whirling over her emotive reaction earlier. She was amazed she could hit anyone let alone Miranda's husband. She'd stuck up for Miranda. After many months of cursing her name Andy had come to her defence without a thought.

Not that Miranda would remember.

The editor would no doubt focus on Andy's betrayal and would happily pay to escalate the evenings torment. Still, money was money and Andy needed all she could get. So with a sigh, she nodded, the words forever imprinted on her lips falling with ease, 'Yes, Miranda.'