Greg looked back at Cassidy and Caroline, his daughters in the backseat, pretty soon they'd be teenagers, his two little girls, and he loved them, even the many pranks his two reds were still attempting to get away with.
His heart melted the first time they said 'Daddy.'
Sure the frozen pop donor donated but he was Cassidy and Caroline's father.
He once teased Miranda should they get Prêt -à- Porter or Armani diapers.
Becoming a father changed him.
Just because he often said just because your mother says no didn't mean they can't go and try something that never stopped him once spoiling them, they were his kids.
His latest girlfriend Lydia needed to get a sense of humour, his girls making Siri rhyme Lydia's last name with prissy was funny and her designer dress shirt wasn't ruined with Cassy spilling soda on it at the movies by accident, he didn't care for her reaction to his daughter, and they were now over, due to treating Cassidy like that.
Cassidy and Caroline meant more to Greg than long legs and perky flirts, he watched them asleep, stalled at traffic lights, when they slept he swore they're angels.
Greg's father always said redheads were his weakness. He dedicated his life in pursuit of them. Now he had two. Once he had three titanium loves of his life.
Then he messed up hugely. He cheated on Miranda.
Driving Cassidy and Caroline back to Miranda's early, instead of by train tomorrow, he'd see if next week he'd take his ladies out to tea at the Plaza. It was a date. Maybe he could persuade Miranda to join them. He missed her.
Not just sex and her great body. Her.
Miranda with the most stumbling blue eyes, who was once the object of his attraction, the minute he saw her he had to meet her. Have her.
She was right during a fight just before they decided to call their marriage quits, most of the women he was seeing weren't her. Bitterly hoping he was happy with sex with bimbos, because she'd never take him back. He'd hurt her.
Nobody was Miranda, he was an idiot to ever cheat on his ex-wife. With Jacqueline.
He sent her freesias' begging for her not to separate from him
She was the first woman who kept him on his toes the first time they met. She ignored him completely, showing her his prized horses, his winner at the Kentucky Derby.
Greg was use to women falling over themselves for him, Miranda wasn't one of those women and he liked that about her, she was a challenge.
She turned him down at his ranch for having dinner with him. That was a first. Greg was not dissuaded by that, he sent her a thousand red roses to accompany her to Paris. He would have loved to have seen her face as they arrived and kept arriving delaying the Concorde.
His note with the roses read.
'I'm thinking about visiting Paris, for the first time, where do you recommend, I start my appreciation of your city. Miranda?''
Elspeth watched strangely as Miranda crumpled it up at her desk.
That Texan wanted her.
She didn't accept being his tour guide. Through his secretary, Greg was thanked but turned down, couriered a guide book to Paris.
No he hadn't met any female like her. Miranda was really good at playing hard to get.
Greg sent her jewellery she donated it to a charity auction. Thanking him for his abundant generosity to the displaced children of civil war torn Sierra Leone.
Greg always got what he wanted. He wanted her.
Miranda had, had it with her admirer. Fuming at his many romantic gestures sent to her.
The roses were the least of his constant pursuing her.
Couldn't he just take a hint, she did not want him, and she would never be naked with him.
She liked a small painting at auction last night. Bidding on it. She lost out to a higher bidder. The next morning, it was delivered to her apartment, he bought it for her over the phone, and the price was dinner with him.
She had it sent back.
No doubt any girl would swoon over him and fall head over heels with his dimpled smile and exceedingly good looks and Gregory had a good head of hair on him.
Not her.
He was a change women like he changed socks. Which was frequently, Miranda read the social pages of Houston even in Paris.
Didn't he have a model or heiress to go bother?
Elspeth thought it was dogged fruitless persistence. Miranda had a real problem with this guy. He was a hunk. He was wealthy. Showering her with gifts and flowers despite Miranda's cold shoulder.
This week an invitation to ski in St Moritz with him.
Miranda turned him down. Just like that.
He'd FedEx a box of white sand from Aruba, with his and her snorkels and fins. Miranda gave the trip to Aline in accessories as a bonus.
What was wrong with Miranda, he was a blond JFK Jr. from Houston and he was dead set on her.
''Miranda the girls and I have taken a poll. Just go out with him.'' Elspeth implored. ''This has been going on for a month. Just give him a chance. Its sweet, he really wants to take you out. Try one date with him.''
Sweet! Try stalking her for coitus.
Her nostrils flared as she scrunched another message from him into her bin.
Was she free to trim his tree?
Miranda wouldn't be doing that ever, her knees were shut from any man like him, and she had a meeting with a new investor who invested a week ago, and wanted to see a preview of what would be featured in next month's issue.
She'd been asked for specifically. Hiding her nerves behind a confident smile, smoothing down her off shoulder sheath black Alaïa dress.
She was adamant about the oil baron. He was behaving like she was some prize to win. Or tame. She was neither.
''Elspeth tell Mesiel no to the photo with Axel and Stephanie not in Chic. I want Christy, Linda and Naomi on the cover. That's all.''
It was a Friday, the couldn't come soon enough holidays were a few days from now, she just wanted to go home and have a bubble bath, read that novel she just bought, go shopping on Saturday at the market for a wreathe, wear her jeans around her apartment and cook for one.
Wishing she'd meet some long haired guy with kind eyes who was sensitive and sculptured or welded and liked collecting old vinyls and wasn't some typical guy who thinks only with his….
Stepping into the salon, blue eyes narrowed on her investor, what the hell was he doing here?
Greg gave her a gorgeous dimpled smile as he pulled out a seat for her, right next to him.
Curt and icy to him, hissing out. ''What are you doing here?'' Clutching her folders of charts to her.
''Miranda, I crossed an ocean just to see you. Not even a kiss hello.''
''It's Ms. Priestly to you. Mr. Northcross.''
Greg sat across from her. Miranda stared down at each name on the list. Good, others were attending, distance was something she wanted with him around, waiting for the other investors.
Tapping her Cartier watch, twenty minutes later, they weren't very punctual, Mr. Daniel. Mr. Jeremy and a Mr. Byrne. Mr. MacAllister.
She'd have Elspeth check with reception. Picking up a phone, Greg's large tanned hand caught her wrist, he stroked her inner palm.
''Miranda don't bother. Their all here.'' Greg shared.
A conference call meeting wasn't arranged, Elspeth hadn't been told about one. It wasn't set up. Chic wasn't looking professional to these investors.
''How?'' Miranda's was confused. If this was some joke on her magazine.
''I used my middle names.''
Miranda almost left.
''Wait I'm still your new investor, you have to have this meeting with me.'' Greg said with a twinkle in his eyes.
Of all the…
Fine he wanted to see what he'd invested a few million in, she'd show him. Exhaling, Miranda had the collection preview begin.
Her eyes like fire at him.
The models loved him. Gregory didn't speak a word of French but still charmed them. Elspeth thought he was dreamy like a dirty blond haired Tom Cruise. Given a glare by Miranda. He was not.
Greg watched her explain the issue, the sections, and the layout. She was remarkable in her position.
''Not bad. January's issue will be good. I also want something else from you Miranda?''
Miranda looked up at him. ''What is that, Mr. Northcross?''
'' To wear that last dress on a date with me.''
Taking in her bosom and figure.
Miranda ivory face blushed tinging pink then pursing her lips, she was rigid, she was not the closing deal bonus.
''I think Monsieur Armand will be handling anything else you wish to know about your investment with us. Goodbye. Mr. Northcross.''
Greg was unfazed by her affronted glare on him. '' No. I want to see you, Miranda. Spend time with you.''
Miranda was not sleeping with him.
''That is not possible. I'm busy.'' Miranda snatched her hand back.
''Sure it is. Cancel whatever you're doing. Then you're free for me. I won't be a happy satisfied investor if you don't.''
''I'm not going out with you.'' Miranda stated this.
''Well I guess I'll have to find somebody to fit that dress by Christmas.'' Greg shrugged, he saw Miranda admired that dress.
Miranda looked at him seething. That would really be a hard thing to accomplish, finding a female companion for the evening, but what must really be a big adjustment for him, turned down for once.
Miranda sniffed, examining her samples.
''You don't like me much do you?'' At a loss to what he'd done to offend her so. Did she ski with any of his exes?
'' Can I start again I'm Greg. I'm a nice guy. Miranda. Some say a catch.''
Not answering him. Miranda ignored his small talk as she handed him Chic's quarterlies.
''I make a great friend.''
Miranda rolled her eyes at him. She was sure he did. To every female.
''Can I buy you lunch. We can discuss only business and I will refrain from complimenting your body just your mind. '' He was unbelievable.
''Booked.''
''Coffee?'' Miranda shook her head at him. ''I don't drink coffee.''
''She does so. '' Elspeth was heard in the hallway.
''Have a coffee with me? We can talk about Seinfeld.'' Greg grinned at her face on him.
''I do not watch Seinfeld. I've had my daily caffeine intake today.'' Miranda took her papers back.
''Dinner then. What time do you want me to pick you up? I have this guide book sent to me, which recommends this little place on Rue...''
Miranda finished his words. ''How about no and never in this lifetime.''
''Miranda just say yes Greg I will love to go out with you.''
He was so cocky.
''It's my civic duty to feed you.'' Running his bemused eyes up and down her figure appreciatively.
Miranda stood up, huffing at him. ''No. No thank you, please desist this or I will call this harassment.''
Oh boy she was fiery. Red hair was the giveaway. Mercurial. He liked it, going at him.
''Fine but please don't beg to go out with me, it's embarrassing.'' Daniel quipped, holding the door for her.
Walking through it, in determined strides away from him.
'' I will take you out by the end of this week. You'll say yes Miranda.'' Declared this confidently to her. Winked at.
Left Miranda Priestly speechless. Bristling. Oh will he now.
''Go out with me.''
Waiting near her car. Miranda's driver almost smiled as much as Gregory did, but sobered at Madame Priestly's glacial look.
Held a full bouquet out to her. That Miranda didn't take, pushed it away.
''Listen I do not want to go out with you. You clearly are not picking up on, I'm not interested. I don't want to have dinner with you. Or share any nightly activity with you. Ever.''
Greg looked at her surprised, his killer smile fading. ''What do you want than Miranda from me? I'll get it. Tell me.''
Miranda stilled at his question, her heels halting.
''What do I want?''
Turning back to him. ''Someone who doesn't think I'm buyable. I'm not. Who'll love me even with red eyes in a bathrobe, who'll bring me something that truly surprises me and no not the most expensive piece of jewellery like you gave just something simple and be corny for me or make me breakfast. That is what I want in somebody.''
Greg watched her slide into her car. ''I can only make instant and I don't know how eggs work but my housekeeper Mrs Ochoa does.''
Pulling away, leaving him on the curb.
Miranda slid into her tub, warm water relaxed her, wetting her naked limbs, surrounded with lit candles and playing Jeff Buckley low.
Gregory Northcross wasn't sensitive, he wasn't anything at all what she wanted.
He should be neutered. Sending her something every day for weeks to pressure her to go out with him. All he wanted was to have sex with her.
Curling her hand into a fist with a small splash, water spilling over the antique tub.
Elspeth was wrong he was not gorgeous. She wanted someone who she could slip into their favourite large shirt and make it smell like her because she wore it all the time.
Though never a team jersey. Not on her.
He'd have to be tall, tender and adore her. Not dirty blond like Northcross.
She liked brown hair. Elspeth thought Lucky from the Diet Coke commercial was the perfect male specimen. He was okay.
Making a list in her mind as she sponged herself. He could like sports but not be consumed by it. He'd have to know the Linton line in Wuthering Heights. And Gabriel Oak's too.
He must love cuddling. That was important.
Be thoughtful. Give her kisses that were long, slow, deep, soft that last days.
He did not need to have a huge….
She didn't need one. It was the electrical age.
Miranda ivory cheeks reddened at it waiting on a towel, there it was, what she'd been given as a gag gift on a girl's night for her birthday last week.
A Silky slider, looking at it. A vibrator. She hadn't even had a real flesh one between her legs.
It was obvious why, she was saving herself for George Clooney on ER.
She was not frigid or an uptight cocktease, what her last date accused her of being because she stopped him.
He was nice. He wore Zegna. He was a broker from Canary Wharf. He owned a villa in Monaco.
He was an okay kisser. As soon as he said let's do it with no condom. Miranda pulled the brakes. ''Off. Up. Up.''
First he didn't have a condom and said he'd really didn't need to wear one and he had unbelievable control, second, it had a turtleneck on and she was Jewish. Her rabbi wouldn't approve.
He could take his bunched CK briefs and leave.
He promised her, he'd happily wear one. Just it was not going to be as good.
Growing up near Pearl River, New Jersey. Miriam Princhek didn't put out. Not for a class ring or if he drove a waxed Camaro.
Looking dubious at it, the rabbit. She certainly couldn't take this home to her mother.
Prep the bunny the instructions said. Staring at the pink shaft. Gulping down a sip of wine.
Miranda felt like she should introduce herself to it. Tell a little about herself. At least it didn't make her pay on dates. No chance of snoring.
Or brag about how much they made or what they drove. Mennist.
Battery operated may just be better.
Picking it up. If the slipper fits.
Now if it could also make her a post-coital cup of tea and spoon her.
Trish suggested to name it. Hers was Brad after Brad Pitt.
Wading in warmth as she tried to think of a name for it, Bob, Bobby, no, she'd think of with braces Bobby Trapido who was in her junior high class, Nick, Nicky absolutely not, Rick no she went to high school with a jerk named Rick, Ambrose was nice.
Scotty. Miranda mouth thinned.
Michael or Johnny. No she'd blush meeting Winona and Mr Depp next week for a photo shoot.
Wracking her mind for a name, she didn't associate with any male she'd ever encountered.
Interrupted from naming it, by a ringing phone, drawing her robe around herself with damp hair, slipping up and out as she went and got it, picking up.
Seeing red. Which idiot in the office, gave him her number? He called her at 11pm to ask her to join him for breakfast unless she was booked. She slammed the phone down on him.
It had to be some perverse set New Year's goal of his, to bed her before midnight because he was relentless in his pursuit of her.
Exiting her elevator on her own, Miranda stopped. No flowers to assault her with.
Everyone at the office noticed he stopped suddenly.
Elspeth was disappointed she'd been making Trent her latest boyfriend jealous bringing home Miranda's roses.
The girls in the office were upset.
Miranda receded into her work, looking through a lens of shots. She needed to start wearing glasses. Elated not to hear from him.
Next day after work, Miranda made a list in her head of her weekend plans, it was just before Christmas, she was staying in, watching that video of Daniel Day Lewis, Elspeth loved Mel Gibson, sorry Daniel in buckskin won over Mel in a kilt, stopping her happy stride, seeing him, lowering her sunglasses down her nose, he came up and met her with an impromptu picnic basket in winter.
Daniel tried to take her arm. ''We're going sightseeing, Miranda be my elegant sophisticated guide today?''
Miranda shook her head with refusal.
Giving her a mischievous boyish smile. ''If you don't, Chic might lose a major stakeholder investor. Shares may plummet.''
Miranda's mouth fell open. How dare he, he was threatening to collapse Chic if she didn't say yes.
He was a double breasted camel hair coat wearing big putz-y snob who dressed like a yuppie catalogue handed out at Goldman Sachs or Merrill Lynch.
Her heels began flouncing away.
''Wait. Miranda, I'm not going to do that. I just want to spend time with you. I want to get to know you, okay, please give me a chance. I won't close down Chic. I swear.''
Greg gave her an impish smile.
Giving in with narrowed eyes. ''Fine.'' She was only doing this for Chic and told him that hotly. Strolling in the cold air, around her Paris.
''What is in there?''
Greg opened it up. The picnic basket was filled with a few thermoses and mugs and Miranda also saw a bottle of Chateau Mouton-Rothschild 1970.
''For you Ms Priestly, Careful. It's hot.'' Pouring and handing a mug of hot chocolate to her. Brushing her gloved hands, taking what he offered from him.
''Thank you Mr. Northcross.''
Pouring one for himself. Clinking hers. Sipping it, Hmmm Godiva hot chocolate slid down her throat.
''The wine is for when?''
''That's for later. I must warn you, two glasses of that and I'm very easy and my eyes do sparkle in candlelight.''
Miranda couldn't help but smile and easily laugh at him. Greg smiled with her, she was enjoying laughing at him, grasping her arm in his. Miranda stilled as he stroked her arm.
''How about we see in there.'' Greg pointed it out.
Miranda stopped. That museum was closed, she'd missed The History of Haute Couture, being in Martha's Vineyard to persuade Narcisco Rodriguez who was fitting Carolyn at her wedding to be featured in the pages in Chic.
''Mr. Northcross.'' Reminded to call him just Greg. '' We can't just go in. It's closed.''
Confidently guiding her along. ''Sure we can. Come on Miranda.'' Guiding her inside.
Greg had made a call. Miranda had a very private preview only for her.
Stopping Miranda realised she'd just talked three hours about cuts and gowns and he'd let her.
Greg honestly hadn't heard half of what Miranda said. Just watching her, smiling boyishly. She was really something to be with.
No one he'd ever dated compared.
He suggested they could get warm in his apartment, offering to her to come up and he'd show her his Triton.
Looked at like he'd made a lewd suggestion.
''It's my new horse. Miranda.'' Helpfully told this.
Miranda shivered as they stepped outside, pulling her black Valentino coat to her, Greg offered again and gave in and took him up on it. He was incorrigible.
''Besides I also have something I want to give you.''
Miranda hoped no more jewellery or flowers.
''I think you'll like it, I have to give it to you early. No returns. I think you've been nice and not naughty.'' Greg studied her as if measuring her.
'' So you think by wearing me down by plying me with expensive hot chocolate and this surprise of yours will succeed, make me want to date you, because it's not.''
Greg grinned at her smugly. ''Yes. It is. Eventually.''
Putting his keys down. Taking her coat and his to hang. Miranda sat down primly on his leather couch. It had a view of the Eiffel Tower and it wasn't a denizen of sin.
''Be right back.'' Greg stepped away.
She saw by the photos he played water polo and tennis. Passing one of him posing near a sports car in Ray Bans. He went to boarding school in Switzerland by a diploma.
''Gregory. I'm going to go. It's late.''
''Just a sec. I'm getting your gift.'' Greg called out struggling.
It better not be lingerie or anything kinky like him in just a bow tied around his...
''Gregory.''
Her blue eyes went huge at him holding it. It wasn't what she expected. Chewing on his Irish sweater sleeve.
It was so cute. A bow around its neck.
''Can I hold it?''
''Sure, she's sixteen weeks. She's a gift for you.''
Taking the puppy into her lap as it chewed on her hands. ''Thank you. Gregory.''
Greg shrugged. ''You are welcome. Name her, why don't you?''
Miranda looked at the wriggling St Bernard, stroking her big paws as it licked her face, looking down into her benign soulful eyes.
Miranda let it chew on her suit lapel, delighted with her gift. ''Patricia.''
Greg liked it.
''So Patricia I expect you to protect Miranda here and snuggle in bed with her this winter.'' Greg spoke authoritative to the puppy that wagged her tail at him and yapped.
''So I feel since we now have Patricia to raise. I need full visitation rights. She might miss me. Patricia might want me to call or check in on her, take her out now and then, but I say Patricia wants us to have dinner. Talk about her dreams of Vassar. Our girl is smart.''
Tugging on his sweater strongly.
Miranda mouth formed a bemused smile. ''You do. I think she and I can cope but for Patricia's sake, yes, I'll endure having dinner with you. Only dinner.''
''Okay.'' Greg smiled at her.
''Just dinner. No dessert and this isn't a date.''
Greg swore as an eagle scout.
Only dinner it was that night, but not a date, Greg almost leaned in to kiss her near the fireplace, instead he waited till walking her to her car, feeling her return it, which turned to that week spending Christmas together and New Year's dancing, out for coffees and dates, attending events as her or his date in January and he gave her a diamond ring asking her to marry him six months later.
Daniel always insisted Miranda was swept off her feet by him. She was different, he didn't even sleep with her till they got engaged.
Chic's sister magazine Runway France was taken on with Miranda as Editor. Then Runway US wanted her.
They moved to New York.
Navigating city traffic uptown, Greg wondered if Miranda was okay after Stephen and the divorce.
He'd have Sarah his assistant send her some boxed truffle chocolate that usually made her happy especially during her time of the month.
He'd make a call to her assistant Andy to go shopping for whatever it was the twins were into this month, the twins liked those Disgusting Anatomy kits or maybe a horse each they'd like.
Andy was great. She was the only woman he spoke often to, who he didn't want to have sex with and she was a knockout.
He'd met her at the girls, sports day at Dalton.
She was a good kid. Goofy and had his kind of sense of humour. She got him when he swore in traffic.
Where was Andy when he was still married to Miranda, remembering stuff he didn't pick up on ever?
Andy was really thoughtful of Mira.
Steering his car turning into Miranda's neighborhood, hoping he could stay for dinner.
Present
Miranda noticed another thing similar. Andy didn't like papaya. He didn't. It couldn't be.
Watching Andy in synch with her as they reached for this and that in the fridge, Andy chopped up a tomato as Miranda wondered was she ever a Winter Ball King at a school dance.
Offering an avocado slice, Andy scrunched up her nose with dislike so much that Miranda wanted to kiss it, she refused to eat avocados because they reminded her of boogers.
''Not even a bite.'' Miranda flirtatiously held her fork out as Andy shook her head. ''I'm still not going to eat it.''
Andy shook her head stubbornly. Those pretty blue eyes weren't working this time on her.
Andy, Andrea Sachs, the blob really got on Emily's tits. First Paris. Stealing it from her.
Being not just a good assistant to Miranda but the best one she ever had.
Emily saw it.
Miranda favored the enormous cow.
Plus Miranda was always watching Andrea. Why do that, still confused Emily. Andrea was fashion ignorant. Plain. Big goopy smile.
She didn't even know who Miranda was that interview day. Yet Miranda must have pitied her or been desperate for any ugly skirt wearing Iowan to fill a desk.
Why did Miranda want her to pack up Andrea's apartment?
''If you can just sign this. Miss?'' The large mover held out his clipboard.
Emily took the clipboard. Signing it.
Pointing to another box for the burly sweaty movers to take, everything of furniture should be incinerated in her opinion.
Ugh Rattan.
It came with the apartment so it stayed, that charming man named Donnie was coming back to make sure she didn't abscond with any fixtures.
Folding a Quantum Leap t-shirt.
Brody's things were fun to pack. Serena had come along to help, bubble wrapping a few things.
''Emily. Do you want a break?'' Serena suggested.
Emily shook her head. She had Miranda's orders.
Staring at one photo of Andy and her family, they looked like DQ eaters. Staring at their chubby wholesome smiles in polyester. Andrea's family, Emily could just tell by looking at them, they'd have second helpings of mashed potatoes. Spying one of Andy in braces dressed like a pilgrim.
Oh he was cute.
A brother, Emily guessed. Andrea never mentioned a brother to her.
She'd go start on the bathroom, opening the cabinet, floss, geeky toothbrushes clearly Andrea was twenty-nine going on ten, her face flushed on it, why did the Nebraskan own a dilator.
Memory in 90s
''Greg where do you think I should put this vase?'' Miranda was unpacking the moving boxes for their new place in New York.
Greg was looking in another box.
''Hon, do you know where my signed World Series ball is?''
Miranda saw Patricia with it. Gnawing on it.
''No.''
Locating her copper pots and Bain Marie. Her mother was coming over on Sunday for dinner. If she didn't insist they come to her.
''Greg, I can't find my muddler. The decorators didn't finish the wallpapering. I explicitly said blush pink rose bushes outside.''
Leaving Paris behind and moving here was a lot. Starting at Runway on Monday.
''Mira, it's okay, don't worry. I'll buy you four muddlers. One for every room.'' Miranda knew Greg didn't have a clue what a muddler was.
There answering machine clicked. ''Hello you two. I'm jetlagged, Trent is grumpy and in search of a pint from room service. I expect your both busy loving each other up. Come up for air newlyweds. See you Monday. Miranda. Bye Mr. & Mrs. Northcross.''
Coming up behind her, wrapping his arms around her. ''Hi there Mrs. Northcross.''
''Hello yourself. Mr. Northcross.'' Kissed by Greg as he rubbed her arms, held into him.
''We can take Patricia to Central Park, try brunch at the Boat House. Do you want to go to The Carlyle for cocktails, make it a date.'' kissing his ear, with a small nip.
'' I think you look sexy in that Timothy Everest.''
Greg was right now in a faded oxford shirt and Levis barefoot.
Sliding up to him, flirty. ''We could stay home in just our socks.'' Stroking his six-pack through his shirt.
''We might get cold.'' Miranda smiled.
''I'll warm you up.'' Greg grinned sexily. ''I'm thinking of a tour of our bedroom. Mrs. Northcross.'' Miranda was scooped up by him.
Hoping this time she didn't have to fake it again.
Ten minutes later, Greg fell back against the pillows satisfied, after giving her a sloppy tonguey kiss, Miranda leaned up on her elbow. ''Greg do you want children?''
Greg looked at her, grinning. ''Yes. I do. '' Pulling on his boxers. ''You want kids right Mira?''
Miranda smiled back at her husband brightly. ''More than anything.''
Greg got up and pulled on his college sweatshirt. ''If it's a boy. He'll go to Collegiate.''
''What if it's a girl.'' Miranda folded her arms.
''That's simple, she'll be beautiful and smart like you and either be top of her class at medical or law school. She'll have your eyes.''
Greg kissed her lazily. ''Let's start trying for one.''
''I think we'll enjoy the creating process.'' Grinning at her, reaching on the nightstand for a TV Guide. ''Hey the playoffs are on. Can I? ''
''Go on.'' Miranda looked up to the ceiling. This was married life.
The class trip was supposed to be to Europe but instead due to Mrs. Mott not booking it in time it was this, a long drive to Boston from Ohio, but the bus broke down in NYC.
Andy slung on a backpack. ''Everybody stay in pairs. Mr. Sachs. I'm watching you.''
Mrs. Mott meant Crosby.
''Andy I'll pair with you.'' Lily offered.
Jesse Danforth looked at Andy as if he was dead. ''Ok-kay.'' Touring the Natural History Museum together. Pointing out the butterflies on display.
Crosby tagged along. Walkman blasting Green Day's J.A.R, it was confiscated by Mrs. Mott.
Lily ''Are you going to The Winter Ball?''
Andy shrugged, disinterested. ''I suppose, it's in three weeks.''
Lily smiled. ''I haven't been asked by Jesse yet.'' Andy didn't pick up on it at all.
Crosby watched Lily and Andy frowning. His cousin had no clue, all summer, Lily wanted him, sharing her lunch, bringing Andy a Big Gulp, showing up and buying tools at Uncle Rich's hardware store for no reason because Andy worked there.
Lily Weeks was hot. Funny and perfect to relieve Andy of his disadvantaged state. Virginity.
Crosby would sell body parts for a chance like that.
Andy was sharing with Crosby in the hotel. ''Bro we get cable. Look what's in this fridge, free snacks.'' Stuffing them in his bag.
Throwing a can of soda to Andy who caught it. ''Lily wants you.''
Andy's mouth dropped open. It never crossed her mind. ''She does not. Lily's just a friend Crosby.'' They sat in class together and she came over for dinner a few times.
Crosby finished slurping his Coke Zero. ''Does she know that?''
''Of course she does.'' Lily knew they were just friends.
''She wants you to take her to the Winter Ball as a date.''
Andy blinked. Lily didn't mean a date. She just said she was free, that Jesse that jerk hadn't asked her.
''Crosby are you going?''
''I'll try to make it. I'm keeping my options open.''
Crosby was delusional. Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera were not coming to Ohio to be his double dates.
All because Crosby claimed Christina winked at him in concert.
About Lily liking Andy. Crosby didn't know what he was talking about, he still thought that Men are From Mars, Women are from Venus was a book on astronomy.
Andy went to get some ice.
Slammed against the machine. ''I'll say this only once. Listen little shit and listen good. I'm telling you in a nice way you stay away from my woman. Comprehende.''
Jesse's face was in Andy's.
Andy was pushed again for emphasis.
Golden Jesse Danforth was a jerk to Andy ever since her first day at school.
''Lily is mine to date.''
Pouring the ice bucket over Andy's head.
Wringing out a soggy Eddie Vedder like flannel shirt, Andy shivered, borrowing Crosby's blanket stripe Seattle sweater since he wasn't feeling well from all that he ate.
Looking at her reflection. Bare-chested Andy frowned at what she saw.
A quiet knock made Andy go over and open it, to Lily. ''Hi.'' Andy covered herself up with Lily's wide eyes at being bare-chested.
''Do you want to sneak out?''
Andy agreed. ''Sure. Give me a minute.''
Joining her in the hotel hallway. ''Where do you want to go?''
Taking Andy's hand. The city was theirs.
Both were not supposed to be doing this. ''I want to live here. It's amazing.'' Lily exclaimed as both were walking along a sidewalk in the Big Apple.
Andy agreed. This city was just incredible.
''Living here would be great. Downtown.''
''Of course I'll be running my gallery here. Discovering artists that I will sell their work for millions at my packed showings by invitation only.''
''Will I be invited?'' Andy teased her.
Lily's eyes shined on Andy. ''Are you kidding, you'll be living with me, writing a future NY Times Pulitzer. Number one. '' Andy blushed at the praise.
''Let's try one?'' Andy pointed for two to the cart. ''Two please.''
Chewing and pinky swearing to living here over hot bagels.
''I like you Andy Sachs.'' Lily said happily.
Andy touched her shoulder lightly. ''I like you too, Lily Weeks.''
''No. I mean I like you, like you, Andy.'' Leaning up and kissing Andy on the mouth.
Crosby was right. Now what was she going to do.
Gregory had his mind on everything but his wife, Miranda looked out the tinted window town car. The driver Roy, great guy getting Page Six to stop following them had been feeding him the Knicks score all night, while attending Miranda's Runway Benefit.
They'd been trying for months for a baby. No luck. They'd seen every fertility specialist. They'd tried different techniques and positions and times of day and night. Greg had too much phlegm was one reason from a practitioner on Chinese medicine.
Greg had rushed home many times to do the deed with Miranda's cycle. Ordered by her, boxers off.
Miranda timed her ovulation, beeping him to come to her.
Greg liked being beeped for sex.
Miranda almost died of mortification when their housekeeper almost walked in on them one afternoon.
Now to be told it was him, made him reticent. He couldn't get Mira pregnant. Her eggs were fine. Greg sperm was low, he wasn't happy about that news.
Their Doctor suggested a sperm donor.
Miranda took the brochure and started to do research.
Squeezing his hand in hers, as he loosened his bow tie with his free hand.
''Will you pick a donor with me?''
They'd hardly seen each other except for intercourse this month. Her schedule and his were hectic busy.
Greg gave in. ''Fine. Show me a few tonight. I gotta make this call. Work. Miranda.''
Using the car phone as they were stuck in traffic.
Her blue eyes fell on two teenagers kissing outside the car's tinted window, the boy looked shell-shocked by the girl's kiss.
Roy drove them home.
Sitting astride Greg in her nightie. Smelling him, his scent of soap and vanilla. Greg shook his head.
''Miranda I am not going to say yes to a donor who is a ping pong champion and dresses up as a Hobbit and is an Audubon Society birdwatcher.''
Miranda went through a few more choices.
''This one has a high GPA. He was a coxswain rower. He's in a fraternity.'' Greg bragged.
Miranda took it and threw it over her shoulder, she was not being impregnated by a keg drinking Delta Kappa Phi frat boy.
''This one played the tuba in school band. He still plays Dungeons and Dragons.'' Whacked by her. Gathering her to him, Greg pressed himself intimately to her.
''Mira I don't want just any guy getting you pregnant.''
Miranda's blue eyes gentled on Greg, his large hands caressing her. ''Greg it's not like I'm choosing a man better than you. He's helping us, have our child.''
''Are you going to tell your mother?'' Greg asked. He sort of didn't gel with Miranda's mother. He tried. She just didn't like him.
Miranda was going tell her. Biting her lip, lying to him.
''No.''
''Good.'' Greg stroked her smooth legs. ''You looked so hot tonight.''
She'd have Elspeth call Park Avenue Sperm Bank tomorrow to be put on a waiting list of new donors. Determined to find the perfect one.
Miranda took off her glasses, pinching her nose bridge, she didn't care for how Irv Ravitz looked at her during the Benefit. It was like he was undressing her all evening.
She immediately liked Nigel. He was seated beside her and his knowledge on fashion impressed her.
''Greg do something for me.''
''Anything?''
''Don't ever stop kissing me back.'' Greg kissed her mouth with a crooked sexy smile.
''Promise me.'' Miranda said this softly to him. ''Because couples stop.''
Greg cupped her face.
''That is something I will always do.'' Greg promised her. ''Anything else I can do for you?''
Sinking into bed with her.
''I'll think of something.'' Her negligee lifted up and off.
Andy pulled her mouth away.
Lily's eyes opened seeing Andy's reaction to her kissing him.
'' Lily I don't…I like you as a friend…I mean, you're - - you're - -you're great. You know, you're- -you're smart and you're - - beautiful.'' Andy meant every word.
Andy liked Lily. Just not like that.
''But not enough to make you want to kiss me.'' Lily said, avoiding Andy's eyes. Rushing away.
''No Lily wait.''
Lily wouldn't talk to Andy who tried again this morning, the bus had been replaced, Jesse saw Andy try to sit with Lily, given a glare, as all onboard the bus saw it, outside the window at a sports car passing them.
Crosby stared. ''I want one of those.'' It was beautiful, a Porsche. There was a dog like Beethoven in the back of it. Cool.
The woman was hot in Crosby's opinion.
Andy saw it, the couple with a dog, glancing back worried at Lily, really wanting to fix this somehow with Lily. She just didn't know how.
The sports car sped up and away.
Miranda's Mother's House
Greg went to walk Patricia. Drying the dishes with her, Miranda softly shared. ''We're trying for a baby.''
Miranda's mother watched him putting a leash on the exuberant St. Bernard.
''That's good.'' Mrs. Princhek was trying to like him for Miri, he was very handsome and charming for her only daughter but something was just missing.
Gregory Northcross could provide for her. That she could see, him and his flashy car.
Through dinner, she thought Miri was trying. Being with somebody was fitting with them. Not trying so hard to.
He was perfect. Just not what she thought, would be with Miriam, her daughter.
''That's good. Grandchildren would be nice.'' Maybe have a little girl like her baby.
Miranda agreed.
''You'll both stay the night. Just don't start tonight making grandbabies, I'm watching Wheel of Fortune.''
