The Guest Editor – Chapter Two
A/N: Well there was a positive repsonse to the last chapter. Some people are concerned I'm not certain on producing MirAndy at the end of it, thats fair enough. With the current idea in my head, I can't see it happening very quickly, but things can change. Anything could happen. The benefit of Fan Fiction is that it is a blank canvas. If there is MirAndy then it won't be explicit.
Here is the next chapter, I hope you enjoy!
Any news? – N Emily's phone lit up. She felt as if she had been waiting around for hours. They weren't letting her see Miranda.
No change they tell me. She typed back.
Go home. – N
Miranda needs me. She replied indignantly.
The Twins are on their way. – N
I'll come back to the office then.
All under control. Go home. Have a restful weekend. It will be all hands on desk on Monday morning. Just an early warning. – N
What was in the envelope? She asked.
You'll see on Monday. – N
Go. – N
I'll go when I see the Twins.
See you on Monday. – N
When Nigel was satisfied that there was no further response from Emily, he took the elevator down to the lobby to meet Andy. Once in the marble atrium, he went to the security desk to get Andy some new credentials – ID card, lanyard, network access key – to go with the company iPhone, credit card and MacBook he had had somebody purloin from HR after they said they'd send him a new assistant. Andy would be getting the use of a driver and blacked out Mercedes to get her between work and home during her tenure at Runway.
In the hours since Miranda's collapse, he'd had Elias-Clarke's press department do a background check on Andy. She was as clean as a whistle as far as they could tell. The innocent, doe-eyed girl who had walked into the office over a decade ago had simply got older and gained more experience – if you count being shot at by insurgents in Helmand as experience.
Now he just had to wait…
He didn't see her come in. He didn't see the small flash of awe on her face as she re-entered a building that she thought she would never have returned to in her working lifetime. He did see the steely look of determination that came down like shutters on a shop window at the end of the day. She did look dressed to kill.
She saw his mouth momentarily drop open.
"Do stop imitating a goldfish Nigel," she smirked. "I guess I've still got it," she twirled.
"You've grown Andy!"
"Grown up, yes. Not grown fat. I'll have you know, I'm still a four. It's called going for a jog in the morning."
"Hmmm…"
"Yes Nigel?"
"Let me see…Mulberry bag, Burberry coat, Chanel blazer but not the skirt. I don't recognise it."
"I bought it on ASOS – that British internet clothing store. I can't remember what it was called. The blazer I got in Paris. It was one of the pieces I didn't give to Emily. The shoes are Louboutins. I had to have one smart set for executive meetings."
"Shall we go up?"
"Don't I need some credentials? I did hand the last ones back in."
"It's all sorted."
"Lead the way then. I promise not to occupy the whole lift!"
"Don't mock her."
"Hmph. Tough room. I always found that particular tradition of letting Miranda have the lift to herself amusing. Understandable, but amusing."
"Come on Nigel, lighten up. You're free to have a laugh every once in a while!"
"Well they say that the thing that doesn't survive this place is a sense of humour."
"Do I have to turn up on Monday in jeans and a T-shirt in order to get a laugh?"
"Nah, we'd just see it as the Return of the Six."
"Huh?"
"You've never seen Star Wars?"
"Nope."
"And they say I have no knowledge of anything beyond fashion…"
The elevator dinged open and Andy found herself looking into the overly familiar reception area of Runway America. The crisp almost clinical cleanliness of the empty office made her heart miss a beat. She audibly gulped.
"Six?"
"Yeah," she sighed, "this is really happening isn't it."
"It will be great."
"Yeah…listen, I'm as surprised as you are that this is happening. You know, I don't even know why I'm here…"
"You're here because Miranda believes in you."
"You think? Part of me thinks…well…I don't know…"
"Listen, she specifically requested you. I can show you the letter."
"But-"
"Did you learn nothing all that time ago? Don't question Miranda Priestley."
"Well, Miranda isn't here and I'm asking you Nigel," Andy's tone darkened. "I don't want to put my career at risk here. It took me years to build myself up to where I am at the Times. You know, in my first interview at the Mirror, the editor found that my working at Runway to be ridiculous. Yes, I could get any job in media with her recommendation, but did I really learn anything useful. Sure, I developed a small sense of fashion, but running around for scarves, skirts and scalding hot Starbucks? Really? I don't want this venture to end in public embarrassment!"
"Who for? The magazine? Your reputation? Miranda?"
"We both know I've got the most to lose here." But yes to all three, she silently added.
"If Miranda wanted Emily or me to do her job, she would have asked. My advice, don't question it-"
"-and do your job," Andy sighed, wandering into the ante-office to the office of the larger than life Editor-in-Chief. She went to sit at her old desk.
"Reminiscing?" asked Nigel.
Andy chuckled. "Merely getting my bearings," she replied, eying the phone. "Do you know if we still use the same florists as we did back then?" she asked abruptly.
"We?"
"The magazine."
"Getting possessive already?"
"Well, if I'm going to be captain of this ship for a month…" she said theatrically.
"I think so. It will be in the directory on the computer."
Andy moved the mouse to dispel the screensaver on the Mac. "I haven't used one of these since I was last here," she muttered as the Mac displayed the login screen. "Ah?" she spun the monitor around to face Nigel. "Care to do the honours and get me into this thing?"
"Actually…" he went into Miranda's office, "they gave me network access codes for you, there's a username and password for you…just need to find the piece of paper…" he said.
Andy decided to have a bit of fun and in her best imitation of Miranda replied: "Really Nigel, do I have to come in there myself? Or is 'glacial', your only setting." She giggled as she watched Nigel's back stiffen abruptly.
"Not funny!" he protested as he turned to see the mirth on Andy's face. "That impression is uncanny, Six."
"I'm beginning to think I can have a lot of fun with it while I'm here. Can you imagine Emily's reaction?" she descended into peals of laughter.
"Here we go. Your username is 'andreasachs'. The password is 'exassistant'. Both are all one word, all lower case. There's a note here saying that you can change the password after you log on for the first time."
"And we're in," announced Andy. "Remind me to tell whoever in IT that I appreciate their sense of humour."
"Yes, boss!"
"Boss?"
"Well…"
"Nah, don't worry…" she smiled. "Now…hmmm….phone directory…this looks like it," she muttered before typing on the keyboard to search for the details of the florist. Only one was given – 24 Hour Flowers. Trust Miranda to only use a florist that she could access at any time of the day or night. Andy herself remembered calling them once at three in the morning in order to get a bouquet prepared for one of Miranda's cousin's wedding when she was doing the assistant job for real.
"Which hospital have they got Miranda in?"
"Mount Sinai."
"Right, is the phone system still the same?"
"You know, I can get Olivia to do this in the morning. You're not an assistant any more, you're the editor."
"Well you know what they say; once an assistant, always an assistant. Nigel, I'd do this anyway, assistant or editor. It's called kindness. I don't want her to think I've forgotten. I care," she shot him a look as she dialled the number on screen.
"Yes. Yes you do," he muttered, wandering back to Miranda's office.
Business was quiet that evening at 24 Hour Flowers. Then the phone started ringing. The middle aged proprietor, Fiona Ziegler picked it up at the third ring.
"Good evening!" came a bright voice down the line. "I'm calling from Miranda Priestley's office. I need a bouquet to be delivered to Mount Sinai hospital for tomorrow morning. Is that possible."
"Miss Sachs? Is that really you?" Fiona replied, smiling.
"Fiona, how did you know it was me? I haven't worked here in ten years."
"And in ten years, you are the only one of Miranda's assistants to be so polite. That British one…"
"Yes, well…" the voice chuckled.
"So what will it be Miss Sachs?"
"You're the expert, just bill it to the magazine's account. As long as it's not freesias. Miranda hates freesias."
"So it's Miranda in the hospital?"
"And I'm covering for her here. Just don't tell anybody, only Nigel knows."
"It will be our secret. Do you want a message to go with the bouquet?"
"Hmmm…" the voice pondered. "Actually, can you get whoever is delivering it to swing by here first thing tomorrow before going to the hospital? I'd like to write something myself, if that's ok with you."
"It will be no problem. I will do it myself. Will there be anything else?"
"Not right now. I'll be sure to call again though next week. This office could do with some decoration!"
"I'm not the expert there Miss Sachs."
"I must be going. Lots to do!"
"Good luck, Miss Sachs!"
"Take care Fiona!" came the jovial reply before the voice rang off.
'Yes, you take care Miss Sachs…' Fiona thought as she went about preparing the flowers for her latest commission.
Andy replaced the phone and started to go through a mental checklist in her mind.
"OK…now that's done. I want to meet with all the department heads first thing on Monday. I need somebody to find The Book and can they get me all the issues of the magazine going back twelve months. Where's the new second assistant? I need her to start first thing tomorrow. I'll be in the office this weekend, I don't expect anybody but me and my new helper to be here with me. Nigel, feel free to drop in from time to time. Tell Eleanor to keep an eye on Miranda's situation. I need a phone loaded with everybody's numbers with it. I can use my own laptop. Tell Emily that I want to see you and her at seven-thirty on Monday morning, I'll meet with everybody else at nine. Have somebody cancel all of Miranda's appointments next week and get a large wall chart, I want to be able to set individual deadlines for stuff. Oh and while I'm here, lunch is going to be an hour rather than a feeble fifteen minutes. Got all that?"
"Andy? You talking to me?"
"Oh…I said that all out loud, didn't I?" Andy flushed.
"Was I meant to be taking notes?"
"Well Nigel, that would have been helpful," she put her hands on her hips and mock glared at her.
"Is there a bit of paper I can use? Actually, let me get my pad." Andy dug out a battered binder from her bag and started scribbling away.
Nigel went back into the office to retrieve the iPhone and MacBook IT had also sent up. "All yours. The phone has been preprogramed."
"Thank you!" she smiled, ticking off two bullet points off her long list.
"Do we know where The Book is?"
"Eleanor said that the second assistant lost it."
"Where would I put The Book if I had lost it?" Andy muttered, rifling through the drawers of her desk. She found her target buried in the bottom drawer under a pile of papers. "Her assistant must have been really incompetent. There is about a week's worth of paper work in here. That can be somebody else's problem."
"I can get Eleanor to fix it tomorrow."
"No, I'll do it. I need to find my way around. I can get a second assistant and do it. I want nobody from the existing staff in the building until seven thirty on Monday. Actually, I should email them all now…" she trailed off, opening the email client on the Mac.
Dear all, she typed. "Actually, this might be better coming from you Nigel. I want to surprise them on Monday."
"Surprise them?"
"Why not, I'd rather they be unprepared to face me on Monday. And it avoids them even knowing I exist until they need to know."
"I'll do it," he sighed, opening up his emails on his phone.
Dear all,
Miranda will be away from the office next week. Until Monday at 0730, you are not to enter the office. Have a restful weekend. The situation is under control. Enjoy yourselves. Rest. It will be all hands on deck from Monday morning.
Nigel Kipling – EiC Men's Runway.
"It's done."
"Thank you Nigel."
"Can you tell HR to send up the replacement assistant to here at nine tomorrow morning? I've got The Book," she said, stuffing the fashion bible into her bag. "I'll look over it tonight. Then the new assistant and I can get the office in order for opening business on Monday. You can come in if you like but…actually…come in tomorrow so we can go over the previous issues unless that's going to be a problem."
"I've got nothing in the morning," Nigel smiled.
Andy put the new MacBook and phone into her bag. "I think we're done here."
"That's all?" Nigel quirked his eyebrow.
"I guess. We have a whole weekend to get things sorted."
"I suppose."
"Hey, you want to grab a bite to eat. We can take a cab somewhere…" Andy trailed off.
"Andrea, you know that one of the perks of being an editor is that you get use of a car and driver?"
"I'm not editor until Monday."
"Well, I'm sure no-one is going to complain."
Andy picked up the phone and dialled the main desk. "This is Andrea Sachs, can I have my car waiting outside in five minutes?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Thanks," she put the phone down. "He ma'amed me!" she said in a stage whisper, flushing.
"Well, you're a very powerful person now. You're the boss." Nigel shrugged.
"Yes, but I'm not Miranda."
"You are her equivalent for the next month at least. Get used to it."
"I suppose so. Got any ideas as to where we can get dinner?"
"There's a little place I know on Madison Avenue…"
"Madison Avenue probably isn't within my budget. I'm a print media journalist."
"No," Nigel went back to Miranda's desk. "I nearly forgot to give you this."
"Give me what."
"For the next month you are the editor of the world's greatest fashion title. Anybody tell you that it comes with perks?"
"You don't say?" Andy giggled as Nigel handed her a company credit card.
Attached to the card was a Post-it with a PIN number. "There is no limit on it, but I'm sure that our accountancy people would appreciate it if you didn't try to max it out."
"Now this place on Madison Avenue is in my price range and we are both dressed appropriately. I think we should go eat. We need to have a catch up."
"Tell me Andy, what happened in the past ten years?"
A/N: Hope you enjoyed. Next chapter should be coming soon. Do tell me what you think!