No Other Silly Girl Need Apply

By Gun Brooke

Part Nine

I swear I rushed out of the elevator, calling out something like "Got to run, Nigel. Talk more later!" Inwardly I muttered 'not just today," and hurried into the outer office area. Moira jumped up and rushed out the door as if she feared I might go out for seconds.

"Andrea?" Miranda's voice floated toward me and I tried to collect my wits and my breath before I entered, pad in hand.

"I'm not going to be able to go home with you this evening, after all." She shrugged, which made me wonder if that was her way of showing regret.

"Oh. Well, no matter. Then I'll just sit around and wait for the Book—"

"No. Go home. Make sure they know to send the digital version." She lowered her chin and scrutinized me above her reading glasses. "I want you well rested."

I gawked. Did she just say that? A giggle forced its way up and I coughed desperately as I tried to not let it show.

Miranda looked puzzled. "Something funny, Andrea?" she asked, giving me flashbacks from the old cerulean dress-down. Yikes.

"No, no. Not at all," I said, just like that time. "Just…coughing."

"Why don't I quite believe you?" Miranda pulled out her secret weapon and tapped her lower lip with her index finger.

"You off to something fun?" I asked before I remembered that questions weren't always advisable when it came to Miranda.

"Hardly. At least I don't call rubbing elbows with the Elias-Clarke boardroom members and their spouses."

"Ouch. Irv?"

"Yes. Not to mention his wife. His third wife. Camilla." Miranda actually shuddered. "I will try to do my infamous bow-in-bow-out and leave after fifteen minutes. Thank God it's only a cocktail party." Miranda pulled a folder from her desk. "I want you to go over this. Make sure it's readable."

"Certainly." A little puzzled I took the folder and returned to my desk. Opening it, I found myself reading a feature article about body-image and bullying. I stared. Flipping through the pages, I could tell it was great on topic, but the writing in itself left a lot to be desired. Was this really going into Runway? The magazine that sported stick-thin models and advocated size two as the absolute max? In the back, some amateur photos of young women in different sizes and body types. Here, a yellow post-it note from Miranda said, 'Professional photo shoot required.' I was totally amazed—she really meant to do this. Then the coin dropped and I realized, from a purely selfish point of view that not only was Miranda doing something unheard of—she wanted me to edit the text. At least a first rough edit, which was still freaking awesome.

I dug into the text, using a red pen first and then typing the first draft on my computer. I saw Moira come and go with coffee and clothe items, but I only registered it in passing. I was so absorbed by the task at hand; I jumped as someone cast a shadow over my keyboard. I glanced up and saw a smirking Miranda actually lean over my desk.

"Busy, I take it?" Her blue eyes sparkled.

"Oh, this is great. I mean, the article has such promise even if it needs major work, but it's so much fun and I haven't done this in ages and it's all coming back to me—" I stopped chattering as Miranda began to chuckle. I then realized it wasn't that horrible disdainful sound she is so good at making. Instead this soft laughter held a tender undertone and she actually brushed the tip of her index finger along my jawline. I glanced around the office, my body rigid, but Moira was out on an errand and nobody else was in sight.

"I'm glad you're enjoying it. If you do a satisfactory job, and I'm not going to be the judge of that, but the feature editor, firstly at least, you will have more work like this end up on your desk. Unless you think the added tasks will be too much when stacked upon your normal duties?" She tilted her head, challenging me.

"Oh, no. It won't. I'll have evenings and weekends and—"

"So that means I'll see that much less of you at home?" Miranda pursed her lips.

"What? No! No. I mean, I can work at this anywhere. We—we could sit in your study and work together…" My voice trailed off and I blushed at my own presumptuousness. Oh, why did I let my mouth run away with me like this? I closed my eyes hard and waited for Miranda's old snarky voice to reappear.

"Good. I'm glad you thought of that. You know I'm career driven and the first to recognize ambition, but I'm also a selfish woman who wants you with me whenever possible."

My eyes snapped open and I saw Miranda look at me with a guarded expression in her eyes. I positively melted as it dawned on me that she was probably feeling just as apprehensive as I was, when navigating the start of our relationship. Just the mere fact that there was a relationship to navigate in the first place blew my mind.

"If that's selfish, then that makes two of us." Glancing at the door to make sure nobody was passing, I ran the back of my curled fingers along Miranda's exposed lower arm.

Her eyes darkened and she straightened as she sucked her lower lip in between her teeth. "Fine. Coat. Bag."

I gladly jumped up and grabbed her stuff, um, things, and helped her into her coat. Normally, she loathed for her assistants to attempt such a thing, but as it was only the two of us there, she let me. I took the chance to inhale her scent and let my fingers caress the impossibly soft skin at the back of her neck, just beneath her hairline.

"Andrea…" Her voice so husky, it was almost hard to hear what she was saying, Miranda shuddered. "I'll see you at home later."

"Absolutely." I already looked forward to seeing Miranda in whatever she was going to wear to the cocktail party. I confess I also nourished some pretty heated fantasy about being allowed to undress her. Perhaps some of my less than pure thoughts showed in my expression because Miranda looked at me for a few moments longer and her fingers weren't entirely steady as she shouldered her purse and left the office.

I looked down at my keyboard and forced back a squeal of excitement. Good thing I did, too, as Nigel chose that moment to enter the outer office, grinning broadly.

"Miranda's not here. You just missed her."

"No, I didn't. I ran into her in the corridor. She looked—radiant." He smirked. "As do you, come to think of it."

"I've been given a story to edit," I said, thinking quickly. "No wonder I'm radiant. This is why I came to New York."

"Really?" Nigel's eyebrows rose to new heights. "Who gave you that task? Clair, down at the feature department?"

"Um. No. Miranda tossed it at me after lunch. Sort of as a test, I think."

"Miranda? Aha." The smirked returned. "Well now."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I rarely get angry, but when I do, even my childhood friends claim I scare them shitless. Nigel was no exception. He actually took one step backward.

"Nothing untoward," he said quickly. "I just think it's great that Miranda is exploring your potential. You have a lot to offer. Clever of her to, eh, see that. Tap into it."

"Is this related to that question in the elevator?" I was still not happy. "About me melting Miranda, or something?"

"I—I guess." Admitting defeat, Nigel sat down on the corner of my desk. "I'm not saying it's obvious, but I've known Miranda for many years—long enough to forgive her in Paris and move on. I'd like to think you and I are friends and that we understand each other, Andy. And when two people I care about seem to, what shall I call it, gravitate toward each other like the two of you have, I'm bound to notice. I chalked your feelings for her up to hero worship, but I should've known better than to sell you short and think you're like any of the girls in Miranda's employ over the years. They all develop crushes on her, sooner or later." Nigel patted my rigid shoulder. "You, my dear, are different. You look at her as if the survival of your immortal soul depended on her."

I nearly said 'don't be ridiculous', but that would have been too obvious, so I merely shook my head. "I'm not sure what you expect me to say." I wasn't going to outright lie, but I wasn't giving him anything for free either.

"Oh, you don't have to say much. I can read a lot in your eyes, even when you're mad at me, like now." He smiled gently. "Don't be mad. I'm on your side. And hers. Always."

Calming down a little bit, I started to think I may be overreacting. "I'm not mad. Not really." I tugged at my fingers, something I've realized made Miranda wince, but it was a hard habit to kick. "I'm just afraid—for her sake." Which was true, but I was also terrified that something would come up that destroyed this tentative, fragile start of a relationship I couldn't even have dreamed of only a couple of weeks ago. If that happened, and I could've prevented it, I would be devastated beyond repair. I just knew it.

"Protective to a fault," Nigel said kindly. "Oddly enough, I see the same trend in her, regarding you. That's reassuring as my first instinct was to grab you and hide you in my loft until you were over her."

Over her? I nearly guffawed at the preposterous concept. "Really?" It was rather sweet of Nigel to care about me that much. Or about Miranda? Well, both of us, I assumed.

"Really. But that's a moot point, really. Somehow, the idea of the two of you—" He stopped talking and I heard why. Clackers approaching, as in Moira and another young woman. "We'll talk more later. Just know I'm here for you both, all right?"

"Gotcha." I could smile honestly now as I had relaxed.

"Good luck with the editing. You deserve it."

"Thanks."

He rapped his fingers on my desk and then left with a kind goodbye to Moira who was already busily typing away.

xxxXXXxxx

I was sitting cross-legged on the floor beneath the couch in the den, enjoying a crackling fire as I worked on the editing. I had tried to stay away from the article for a whole hour, thinking I should leave it be to simmer in my mind, but as it turned out, it was way too much fun.

A key in the door and then the six digits beeping from the house alarm announced Miranda's presence. I lazily stayed where I was, hoping she would come and look for me in here where it was all so cozy and warm. To make sure she'd end up here eventually, I had kidnapped her laptop where a digital copy of the Book awaited her perusal and comments.

The nearing of high heels made my stomach tremble and I clenched my thighs. Then there she was, standing in the doorway where the flames cast an amazing glow on her. The dark golden-brown cocktail dress, ending just above her knees, fit her perfectly. Spaghetti straps kept it in place over her breasts and the lace bodice accentuated her thin waist, which swelled into perfect hips. She wore a thin, organza shawl draped over her upper arms and the Prada shoes were perfectly matched to the dress. Her hair was swept more backward and to the side than usual and my fingers itched to liberate her iconic bangs. Still, this stricter look was very sexy also, no doubt about it. My core was already humming and all I could do was licking my lips as I stared.

"You look positively voracious, darling," Miranda said and dropped the shawl in a small armchair. "And you have a fire going. That's nice. Any wine left?" To my shock, she simply kicked off her shoes and knelt next to me. Sitting down beside me, leaning against the couch as she sighed deeply, Miranda tipped her head sideways, resting it on my shoulder.

"Tired?" I asked and refilled my wine glass and handed it to her. No way in hell I was getting up to find her a new glass when she was sitting like this. Miranda took the glass and sipped it.

"A little bit," she said, answering my question. "I had to stay longer than I planned. I despise having to go through endless small-talk with people I don't care for and that I will most likely never meet again. Still, some of them are the wives or husbands of the members of the board, so I had to play nicely in this particular sandbox."

I didn't envy her this part of her work. As much as she loved, lived, and breathed everything Runway, she hated the politics and schmoozing. I carefully wrapped my arm around her shoulders and she leaned into me, nuzzling my neck. "So wonderful to be home. With you." She pressed her lips against me and then sucked gently. Nipping gently, she hummed and sighed contentedly.

"I'm so glad you're home too. You look so beautiful. You totally rock that dress."

"I do?" Tilting her head back she smiled. "Once I've gone over the Book, I'm going to need your assistance to unzip it."

"Agreed. No problem." The day I wouldn't be interested in disrobing Miranda was coming around just about when hell was inhabited by flying, frozen pigs.

We worked sitting on the floor, both of us, and I finished slightly before Miranda. This gave me the chance to study her surreptitiously, or so I thought. After a minute or so, Miranda began to close the lid to her laptop.

"If you insist on this blatant scrutiny of my chest and legs, you have to face the consequences, Andrea." She whipped off her reading glasses.

"Consequences? I—I was only looking!"

"Then you must be quite the sorceress because I felt your glances as clearly as if you'd touched me with your hands." She rose on her knees and then stood in one elegant, fluid movement. Extending a hand to me, she helped me on my feet.

"I wasn't—I mean, I didn't know that. That glances could be felt." I stepped closer. "God, you're hot in that dress," I blurted out without thinking.

Miranda's lips formed a perfect 'o' and then she merely took my by the hand and began walking. "Why thank you, Andrea. Flattery will get your everywhere. Or at least it will get you into my bed."

My knees nearly gave in at the way she purred those words. Leading me up the stairs, I knew I wasn't sleeping in any stupid guestroom. No, I was on my way to that blissful place with the crème, blue and gold colors. As we stood inside the door to Miranda's bedroom, I pulled her in for a kiss. I should've known better.

Miranda allowed our lips to meet very briefly and then she closed the door and pushed me up against it. She helped my hands find the hook that held her robe and said, "Hold on to that. Don't let go."

I clung to the hook, trembling all over with anticipation. Miranda took one step back and began to undress.

TBC