December 24, 1996 —
I was extremely nervous to see James tonight. While I knew that our relationship was leading up to this, I still couldn't help my insecurities. James was a perfect human being, and why he would choose a petite redhead with a crooked nose, I cannot fathom.
But it was Christmas, and aside from watching some sappy movies with Nigel, I had no plans. I am trying to convince myself that this could be the beginning of the rest of my life, but it's not quite sinking in. I am sure I will screw it up somehow.
James made reservations that evening at Carmine's, and when he came by to pick Miranda up, he knew it was going to be a good night. She was wearing an incredibly sexy emerald velvet spaghetti strap dress with a gold lace wrap draped over her shoulders, like the gold had dripped and melted onto her.
Dinner was delicious, and they mostly kept conversation casual, discussing work and the weather and the news. After leaving the restaurant, Miranda suggested walking around for a while. Everything about the evening was perfect: like a post card of New York. Dinner. Walking down Fifth Avenue in the snow while the trailed behind. Stopping for a cocktail at every bar they passed. Driving through Central Park. Falling asleep on James' chest in the car.
"Darling," he whispered. "It's past midnight. I can have my driver take you home, or," he paused for a minute and let Miranda sit up straight. "Would you like to come to my place?" he asked, tenderly brushing the hair out of her eyes and tucking it behind her ear.
"Yes, that sounds fine," she said, kissing him softly as the driver pulled up to the condo.
They made their way inside, and Miranda casually asked whether he was planning to see his family for Christmas. He said that he initially wasn't planning to, but after the accident, he decided to drop by for dinner with everyone.
"I would really like for you to meet my family, but I don't think tomorrow is a good time, given the accident and everything," he added.
"I completely understand," Miranda explained, "and look forward to meeting some or all of your family when the time is right. And speaking of the right time," she said while he unlocked his door. "You, Mr. Priestly, couldn't be more attractive than you are right now."
"Oh really?" he teased, pulling the woman inside and pushing her up against the door. He put his lips to her neck and trailed kisses along her collarbone. "So that would mean you want me to keep this shirt and tie on, then, is that what you're saying?"
Miranda could feel the heat growing between her legs. They had only been dating for three or four weeks, but to her, it felt like much longer. She had wanted to have sex with him that first night after the benefit, but his chivalry was so charming, she chose to follow his pace. Tonight, she was more than ready.
She tugged on his tie and pulled him in for a kiss. When they broke for air, they were halfway to the bedroom. Miranda let her jacket and wrap fall to the floor. "That's not what I meant and you know it," she said.
He grinned and picked Miranda up and carried her to the bedroom. He set her down on the bed carefully, as if she would shatter on impact.
She pulled him closer for a kiss, then whispered into his ear, "Let's save the slow and gentle for another time." She could feel him tense up, so she snaked her tongue around the outer shell of his ear. "It's Christmas, and all I want is you, inside of me."
"Ohh, fuck, that's so hot, Miranda," he panted.
She reached down and pulled her dress up around my waist, then tried to push her underwear and stockings down. He raised himself up a little, enough for her to maneuver out of her underwear, and he unbuckled his belt and tossed it to the side. Miranda grabbed his waistband and pulled him back down, unzipping his pants and quickly stroking him. She slipped her arms out of the spaghetti straps and pushed the dress down past her strapless bra, her fingers quickly finding her aching nipples. She could feel James cautiously hovering at her entrance. Miranda quickly reached around and dug her nails into his ass. "James, fuck me. Right now," she hissed.
Several hours later, Miranda woke feeling pleasantly sore and desperately needing to pee. She extricated herself from James' arms, and apparently woke him up in the process. Leaning over to kiss him, she whispered that she needed to use the bathroom and would be right back.
"Wait," he said, sitting up. "I have something for you."
"What? It's three in the morning," Miranda said.
"I know, just wait there," he said, crawling out of bed and slipping on a pair of boxers as he went over to his closet.
She sat up and wrapped the sheet tightly around herself as she felt the loss of his body heat. He returned with a lavender box from Bergdorfs and set it down on the bed before her.
"It's just a little something," he said with a shrug. "Merry Christmas."
Miranda smiled and quickly opened the packaging and found a La Perla emerald silk negligee and matching robe. Also in the box were a few pairs of modest nude-colored silk panties. "This is such a surprise," she said. "I'm sorry I don't have something for you."
"Don't worry about it," he said. "I hope you don't take it the wrong way, but I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable here. You were going to get up and go to the bathroom, which is what made me think of the robe."
She pulled him closer and kissed him. It was incredibly thoughtful of him, and she was grateful that she would at least have clean underwear to wear home in the morning. When Miranda came back from the bathroom, she crawled back into bed and laid her head on his shoulder. Her hand traced circles on his chest before snaking beneath the covers.
Later that morning, Miranda let his driver take her home. She was freshly showered, dressed in one of James' undershirts, a pair of his sweatpants that she wore cuffed, and of course her Manolo Blahnik gold stilettos.
Christmas morning in New York City never felt more beautiful. When she got home, she quickly called Nigel and he agreed to meet her for a bloody mary and brunch.
Over the next week, Miranda was hard at work finishing up her current projects, or at least documenting them enough for a new person to pick up without much downtime. Once it was announced that she would be the new Fashion Director, Elizabeth began directing all emails and inquiries to her, which was to say the least, incredibly overwhelming. However, she managed to find time every night to talk with James, even if she was too busy to physically see him.
On Friday night, when Miranda was leaving the building, it was after ten o'clock. She usually took a taxi this late at night, but being a Friday, she knew it would be next to impossible to find one. Sighing, she turned and headed for the subway until a car horn caught her attention.
"Ms. Princhek!" Miranda recognized James Priestly's driver and walked over. "Ms. Princhek, Mr. Priestly has asked me to bring you to his condo," he said, holding the door open. "If you'd prefer, I can take you to your place or wherever else you'd like. It matters none to me, ma'am."
She smiled and got in the backseat of the car. It was warm and comfortable and she would be happy spending the night in the cozy car outside of Elias-Clarke, to be honest. The driver cleared his throat, and Miranda opened her eyes and sat up.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Priestly's, please," she said. She was beyond exhausted, and hoped James wouldn't mind if all she wanted to do was sleep.
When she sank back into the seat, she noticed there were a few shopping bags next to her. She peered inside and found a pair of Calvin Klein jeans, a few casual sweaters from Hilfiger, a pair of Valentino wide-leg trousers, a crisp white Ralph Lauren blouse, a Diane Von Furstenburg dress, as well as tights, lingerie, what looked like the entire line of Chanel makeup, and drugstore toiletries like a toothbrush, deodorant, a good conditioner, and a loofah.
Miranda knew these had to be for her, from James, and her heart melted at his kindness and generosity. Tucked into one of the bags, she found a notecard:
M- Should you decide to come tonight, I want you to feel comfortable and not worry about rushing home before heading back to the office. I know it's been a long week for you, so tonight I offer a cup of tea, a hot bath, clean sheets, and a warm bed. xo JP (PS - if you're not coming by, please call to let me know you made it home safely.)
The woman couldn't help the tear that escaped her eye at the note. Not only did this man shower her with expensive gifts, he put serious thought into them. She made a mental note to go to Bergdorfs with him the next time they were out, just so she could introduce his stylist to the mystery woman she'd been dressing.
When the car arrived at his building, the driver helped her out and carried the bags inside. James' doorman offered to help carry them upstairs, but she politely declined and headed for the elevators, swaying and almost falling over as she reached for the button.
"Ma'am, are you alright?" the doorman asked.
"Yes, just tired. Thank you," she replied.
Knocking on his door, Miranda suddenly felt lightheaded, as if she had been standing for hours on end. She dropped the bags and leaned against the doorframe, practically collapsing into his arms when he opened the door.
"Miranda, what's wrong?" he asked, helping her to the couch.
"I'm fine—give me a minute," she said, waving him off. He brought the bags in from the hall and locked the door, then returned to take a seat on the edge of the couch, where Miranda was laying down.
He brushed the hair out of her eyes and gently felt her forehead. "Do you need to see a doctor?" he asked.
"No, I think I'll be okay. I haven't eaten, and all I had to drink today was coffee," she explained.
"Can I make you toast and a poached egg? With some tea or water?"
"That would be wonderful, thank you. Wait—" she called after him. When he returned, she leaned over and kissed him. "Hello. I've missed you," she said, smiling.
"Same," he said, "but you're worrying me." He brought her a glass of water, then went back to the kitchen.
A few minutes later he brought a plate of food and a cup of hot tea. Miranda was at the point where she no longer felt hungry, but she knew she needed something to keep her blood sugar up.
After letting the food settle for a bit, she let James draw a bath in his vintage clawfoot tub, and it was divine.
The next thing she knew, she woke up in bed, the sun shining through the curtains. She was wearing a soft cotton jersey nightshirt, and on the other side of the bed, James was wearing a t-shirt and boxers, reading the Saturday Times.
"Good morning, sleepyhead," he said, setting the paper down.
Miranda turned over and snuggled back into the covers. "Morning."
"How are you doing this morning? Feeling rested?"
"Not really," she groaned.
James suddenly looked concerned. "Let me take you to the doctor, just to be sure it's not something serious."
"No," she said. "I'm just thirsty and stiff. I'll be okay." She sat up and leaned against the headboard next to him. "I don't even want to know what time it is. The fact that the sun has been up for a while says it's far later than I wanted to sleep till."
"Stay here, I'll bring you a bottle of water and some ibuprofen," James said.
He came back with the water and medicine, as promised, as well as a cup of coffee for himself. She took the pills and drank the entire bottle of water. When he brought the steaming cup of coffee to his lips, she immediately leaned over, kissing him on the corner of his mouth, then stealing a sip of coffee from his mug.
He laughed and put the coffee down as he took her in his arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
After laying in his arms for a few minutes, Miranda decided there was something she needed to tell him. "Thank you for being so good to me, James. I want you to know that it's in my nature to look for the faults in things. From everything I can see, you are entirely perfect, and it makes me question what I have done to deserve to be here, in your arms."
"Oh, Miranda, you are beyond deserving. It's I who feel unworthy. You are the best thing that's happened to Runway. I realize it's not evident to you because you're buried in work at the moment, but you are going to be as important to the industry as Christian Dior or Coco Chanel. I can feel it," he said.
She could hardly believe what he was saying, but chose not to start an argument. A change of subject was in order. "You know what would be amazing right now? A massage."
He laughed and agreed, and gave her the most wonderful massage she could have imagined. By the time she was showered and dressed, it was already after noon, so they went for a late brunch before Miranda headed back to work.
"So, tomorrow night is New Year's Eve," James said.
"Yes, I almost forgot. What did you want to do?" she asked.
"Well, I promised to take my twelve-year-old niece to Times Square to watch the ball drop this year."
"Ahh, I see. I have some competition," she said with a smile.
"No, of course not. I mean, would you be interested in joining us? My brother-in-law is dropping her off around 6pm, and we were going to order pizza and play board games for a while, then head over to Times Square around eleven."
"It's going to be so crowded by that time, you know," she said.
"Yeah, but I know she doesn't have the patience to stand out in the cold for more than an hour. As long as there's confetti falling on her, I think she'll be okay," he said with a laugh. "So, will you join us?"
"Does your family know about me?"
"That we're dating? Yes, of course. Why? Is that a problem?"
"No, no," she said. "I just didn't know if I could be myself, or if I would have to pretend to be some work friend or something."
"No, of course not. Everyone is looking forward to meeting you, but my family can be overwhelming. My niece Sabrina will be a good start. She'll report back to everyone else," he added.
"So, win over the pre-teen niece or else?"
"Miranda," he said, reaching his hand across the table to take hers. "I have no doubt that my family will love you, but I want you to know that it doesn't matter to me. I mean, if for some reason they didn't, I still would. Love you, that is."
Miranda squeezed his hand and looked upwards to keep the tears from her eyes as she blinked rapidly. "See, James, you say you're not perfect, and this is what I have to work with." She reached for her glass of water and took a sip before continuing. "But yes, I will gladly join you and Sabrina tomorrow night. Is it okay if I come by around 8 after pizza? Nigel and I sort of have an annual tradition."
"Of course. That will give me some time to catch up with her, too."