The doctor's appointment at the Presbyterian was like day and night from the previous physician I had been to. This female dermatologist doctor had already gone over all my test results and was a lot more reassuring after examining me. She listened carefully to all my concerns, and her approach and professionalism made it unnecessary for Miranda to say anything when she sat on a chair by the door. Only when we were wrapping it up, did Miranda stand and studiously adjust her coat and Hermès scarf.
"I just have one question. Is it possible for Andrea to call your office directly if she has more questions or concerns?" Miranda placed a hand on her hip.
"Certainly. Andy, you'll be all set when you leave here. You will get a binder where any required information is readily available. I will call you in a few days with the results of your additional blood work. As you want our clinic to handle the removal of the stitches, the receptionist has a timeslot ready for you for that in about five days." The doctor looked back and forth between Miranda and me. "Any last lingering questions, Andy?"
I thought fast. "I'm glad you're so available to me, Doctor, but is there any way I can make sure that Miranda also can call your office if she has concerns regarding me?"
Miranda snapped her head toward me, her eyes widening. "Andrea?"
"I just think it's fair—and will help Miranda not to worry," I told the doctor. "And Miranda, sometimes you might ask something I can't answer, or that I don't know. If you can call here and address it, that'd be better."
"We can give you a form to fill in and thus give Ms. Priestly limited power of attorney at this unit. If you want to change it to encompass more, you have to talk to the administrators."
Doug had medical power of attorney when it came to me, and vice versa. I knew, and hoped, there'd come a day when Miranda would want to take this on, but I wasn't going to put her on the spot right now.
We thanked the doctor and started walking along the long corridors. I stretched my hands toward the ceiling and did a little twirl. "I feel like I've lost weight."
"I do too. And I'm grateful that you trust me enough for me to be privy to what goes on with your skin condition." Miranda stopped and maneuvered me into a shallow niche in the wall. It was just deep enough for us to disappear. She pressed her mouth to mine and ran her tongue along my lips. Just as I got my act together and was prepared to kiss her back, she let go of me and began walking. Pulling her cell phone up, I knew she texted Roy with their usual shorthand. "Main ent 5." Main entrance in five minutes.
I walked half a step behind her, a bit out of habit, but also because when we were out in public like this, and it didn't happen often, sometimes fans or haters—Miranda attracted both—would be too forward. Even dangerous. I'd never had to intervene, but had I taken some self-defense classes just in case.
We reached the entrance without being accosted by anyone and found Roy waiting. He held up the door for Miranda, but she motioned for me to get in first. I knew better than to argue and scooted across to 'my' seat. Miranda stepped in with her usual grace and gave Roy the order to take us back to Runway.
"So?" Miranda turned to me, after raising the privacy screen.
I knew what she was asking. "I'm pleased with the doctor and her thoroughness. And her professionalism."
"She comes highly recommended. I had my hopes up that she would be a better fit, but you just never know. I'm glad you feel it went well." She eyed me cautiously. "Are you more at ease now, when she confirmed the test results?"
"Definitely. Once she gets the results of the blood work back, I'll be able to put it behind me." I took Miranda's hand. "Thank you."
She hesitated briefly, but then raised my hand to her lips and kissed it. "You're welcome."
"Now, how about you?" I asked, shifting in my seat to see her better.
"What about me?" Miranda raised her eyebrows.
"You were tense before they called my name." It had been obvious at least to me. Miranda had several different stages of tension, and the way she had looked when sitting so regally in the waiting room, had looked like a three-point-five on a five-point scale.
Miranda plucked with her cell phone, but didn't take her eyes off me. "I thought I hid it well." She shrugged. "Guess I should've known better." Most of the tension had left in the doctor's office, and now Miranda's shoulders sank even further. "I was worried you'd be disappointed, and have to sustain more anxiety."
"And?" I knew there was more.
"And I needed to know too. Of course, I worry for you. Shouldn't I do that? Isn't that what, um, partners do?"
I lost my train of thought. Partners? We were lovers, for sure, and we have used the word girlfriend on a few occasions, but…partner? I couldn't help but smile broadly as I nodded, which of course made Miranda look suspiciously at me, more than anything.
"What's so funny?" She rubbed her thumb in circles against the back of my hand.
"Nothing, really." I tried to dial down the wattage of my smile, but it was impossible. "You called us partners."
Miranda gaped for a moment but then snapped her mouth closed. Fain pink spots appeared on her cheekbones, but then she turned my hand in hers and kissed my palm. "I suppose I did. Do you mind?"
"Does it look like I do?"
She rolled her eyes. "Answering a question with a question, Andrea? But no. You look pleased. Cat-vs.-canary-kind-of-pleased."
That made me laugh and I wished I could unbuckle and slide right onto her lap. Miranda chuckled quietly, and then she unbuckled her belt and swooped in on me before I could tell her to not take risks in the crazy New York traffic. Her lips were on mine, and she devoured me as if I were leaving the country for a year. I held onto her and returned the kiss, adding to the fuel until I somehow had the sense of recognizing the neighborhood outside the tinted windows. I pulled back and said, "Runway." It was all I had to say and Miranda just as deftly returned to her side of the car.
Half a minute later, Roy pulled up by the curve and stopped. When he opened the door, I had already double checked out lipstick, which was easy. Some smudge removal for Miranda, and some additional clear lip-gloss for me. We looked the part.
We ran into trouble by the elevators. Irving Ravitz, the Chairman of the Board for Elias-Clarke, stood there with his entourage and a few people I had never seen before.
"Fuck," Miranda muttered under her breath before she smiled politely.
"Miranda!" Irv took a few steps closer and made a grandiose gesture with his hand. "Perfect timing."
I could tell from Miranda's momentarily clenched fists that she didn't agree. "Irving."
"This, my friend, is the incomparable Miranda Priestly, who I believe needs no introduction. Runway Magazine is our flagship and she's the captain." Irv directed his broad smile to the strangers. "Miranda, these are representatives from Texas and if all goes to plan, they'll be touring your department before long, since there'll be a lot of changes around here."
"Changes?" Miranda had turned to press the button for the elevator again, even if it was lit already. She clearly couldn't get away from the man and his people fast enough.
"Now, now. All good comes to those who wait. I'm still in charge here, even if you would like to pretend that you run this company."
"Well." Miranda nodded politely at the Texans. "I hope you will enjoy your stay in New York, ladies and gentlemen."
"Thank you," a young woman said. "I'm a big fan of Runway, and as it is my father here, and I, who are considering the collaboration with Elias-Clarke, I hope to schedule a meeting with you. Between us women." She wore her hair in a neat bun, and dressed impeccably in a grey trouser suit, if a bit too conventional from Miranda's perspective, I knew that much.
"My door is always open," Miranda said, sounding more interested now. "I didn't catch your name." She glared at Irv who had not made proper introductions, and I was sure it was deliberate.
"Cindy Caulder. This is my father, Bertrand Caulder, and his staff from HQ in Austin." Cindy shook Miranda's hand and then Miranda greeted her father the same way. In the meanwhile, Cindy looked over at me.
"This is Andrea Sach's, my first assistant," Miranda said and placed a hand at the small of my back. "She is the one to go to for scheduling meetings and appointments. I suggest you get on her good side and deal directly with her."
I nearly swallowed my tongue, but Cindy laughed and extended her hand. "Nice to meet you Ms. Sachs."
I shook her hand, and it was all I could do to not elbow my partner. "Please, call me Andy. Here's my card with the office number and my work cell phone. If I can't answer the latter, don't hesitate to text me and I'll assist in any way I can."
It hadn't escaped me that Irv didn't enjoy the exchange. You didn't have to be a genius to realize he was afraid of losing the initiative, and his displeasure was of course aimed at Miranda, but also Cindy Caulder.
The elevator arrived, and Irv's party all stepped inside.
"We'll take the next one," Miranda said silkily and remained where she stood.
"Of course." Irv smirked. Before the doors closed, I saw him turn to Cindy with the same annoying smile. "I think this is terrific," he said between slightly clenched teeth. "Ms. Caulder, you can get a guided tour through Runway's Closet while your father and I get down to business…" The doors closed and cut off the last of his sentence.
"Shit. She's going to murder him." I blinked and then turned to Miranda.
"We should be so lucky." Miranda stepped into the next empty elevator and pressed the button to Runway's floor. She didn't look as exasperated or angry anymore. Instead, she had the expression I knew so well from when she was hatching a new, brilliant idea. "He might just have painted himself into a corner. Cindy Caulder likes Runway. She regarded us both with respect. This can prove to be interesting, and useful."
I had no idea what plans Miranda was hatching as we spoke, but I was certain that Irv was going to regret introducing us, even if he'd done a poor job of it. As far as I knew, Texans were big on being polite and courteous.
We entered Runway, and I pulled up my pad and pen as Miranda began rattling off orders.
###
The afternoon went fast, and I managed to get a salad to eat at my desk, while Miranda went on to have a late working lunch with Nigel. I managed to get through all the pending emails, and man the phone while Moira was running errands.
When the phone rang for the tenth time in as many minutes, I answered on autopilot. "Runway Magazine, Miranda Priestly's office."
"Hi, Andy. It's Cindy Caulder. I've managed to escape that man and thought I'd chance a call to your department." Cindy's voice was warm but had an underlying tinge of resentment. She was obviously getting to know Irv.
"I'm glad you called. Should we schedule a meeting with Miranda?" I pulled up Miranda's schedule on the computer.
"Yes, please. I would like to talk to her as soon as possible, as my father and I are really interested in the collaboration." She signed. "And leaving it to Elias-Clarke's board alone, is a mistake. That's why we need to act fast."
"Let me see." I checked the dates and saw that Miranda had a cancellation the next day. "I can pencil you in tomorrow at ten am."
"Terrific. In your offices?" Cindy asked.
"I'll check with Miranda and get back to you." I made a note of it and started to say goodbye.
"Wait. Tell Miranda that I really want you to be present as well. I think you'll add a lot to the conversation." Cindy's tone grew soft. "You seem like a very capable assistant."
I nearly did the typical movie cliché of removing the receiver from my ear and staring at it in disbelief. "Um, sure. Of course, I'll let her know." What was all that about? How the hell could this woman who met me for all but two minutes have an idea about my qualifications?
After we hung up, I finished a few other more mundane tasks, and then the phone rang again. It turned out to be Kay, Runway's feature editor.
"Andy, where's your captions? Weren't you going to send them to me?" she said, and I could hear a drumming sound in the background. I could picture the energetic woman rap her nails against her desk. I wondered if I was imagining things, or if she sounded agitated as well.
"The first draft is ready for Miranda's perusal, but we, she, hasn't had time to look at them yet. As soon as she gives me some feedback, I'll have them ready to go." I felt a warm little spark in my stomach at the thought of my first major editing and writing for Runway.
"She hasn't looked at them yet? She knows how pressed we are to get the layout working. Which photos has she chosen? Can you at least tell me that much?"
"Sorry, Kay. I did go ahead and pick the ones I thought fit best with the biography, and those are the ones I chose to create captions for."
"Really." Kay sounded pensive. "So, Miranda is giving you a lot of autonomy for this piece. That's quite something considering you're her assistant."
The hairs in the back of my neck rose. "You were the one who gave me the assignment. I have followed the guidelines you sent, and I wasn't aware that didn't have any autonomy at all," I said, slowly.
Just then, Miranda walked into the outer office, placing two glossy paper bags next to my desk. She raised an eyebrow at me, but I didn't acknowledge it.
"I did, but you're still first and foremost and assistant and I suppose I thought you would check in more often with your progress." Kay sounded irritated, and it surprised me as she was normally more of the happy-go-lucky type.
"My deadline is four days away. There is plenty of time for both you and Miranda to weigh in on my captions and the way I have edited the text. I got a good feel for Calista Meyer and her text from the beginning." I hesitated for a moment. "Is there any particular reason for your apprehension? Do you have second thoughts about offering me this assignment?" My chest hurt with budding disappointment. I was so proud of what I had done with the piece so far.
Miranda had almost stepped through the door to her office but stopped in her tracks and swiveled toward me. I held up a hand to her, which I knew wouldn't go down well, but I needed to hear Kay's answer.
"It's like this, Andy," Kay said and sighed. "People talk. As far as I know, you're doing a stellar job with anything you take on, but I have it on good authority that you have Miranda's ear more than any other assistant before you. To a degree that can be considered worrisome."
I was floored. I nearly dropped the receiver but caught it in time. "You're not serious. You listen to gossip and decide that I'm suddenly not good enough, not qualified enough? I would like to know who's been saying these things." Tears of fury rose in my eyes.
"Don't think I sit around the cafeteria and talk to the gen pop at Elias-Clarke about people at the firm. I have this from a person of authority." Kay's voice was stark, but I thought I heard a slight tone of doubt as she continued. "Why would this person lie?"
"Why indeed." I ran my free hand over my face.
Miranda was now standing beside me and pressed the button to engage the speaker setting. She raised her finger to her lips, and I understood I wasn't to let Kay know she was listening in, even if that went against common courtesy.
"Even so," I said, trying to keep my wits about me, "even if it was true, what the hell does that have to do with my ability to edit?"
"It's about optics. It was made absolutely clear to me." Kay cleared her voice.
Miranda scribbled something on a Post-it and pushed it toward me. When?
"Kay. When did this credible person approach you regarding this?" I asked. Miranda's hand squeezed my shoulder gently, and it felt both reassuring and as if invisible people were watching us, taking notes.
"About forty-five minutes ago." Kay sighed. "Listen, why don't you just send me what you have and I will take over the assignment. You can just tell Miranda that you ran out of time. God knows she keeps you busy."
I winced and didn't dare look up at Miranda. Her grip on my shoulder grew firmer. "You mean you will take credit for my work?" I couldn't believe Kay was serious about her suggestion.
"Don't look at it that way. See it as an experience for when you move on from Runway. At least you'll have gotten your feet wet," Kay said, exasperation filtering into her voice.
"I just want to recap this," I said, and pressed record on my cell phone, my fingers trembling. "You have heard from someone in authority at Elias-Clarke that I have undue influence with Miranda Priestly, editor-in-chief of Runway. Because of this, you are suddenly concerned that my work is not good enough, and that optics will hurt the magazine, or the company, or you? Does that sum it up?"
"Hey, when you put it like that, it sounds too harsh. That's not what I said." Kay raised her voice.
"It's what you said. It's the only logical conclusion." I wiped at the annoying tears running down my cheeks. This has really turned out to be a stressful, strange kind of day.
"Kay, Miranda here." Miranda sat down on the corner of my desk. "I came into the office in the middle of this conversation and found my assistant in tears." She wiped at my cheek with her thumb. How she managed to look at me with love in her eyes, and speak to Kay with icicles in her voice, I had no idea.
"Miranda!" Kay in turn sounded like she swallowed a frog.
"I want to know who talked to you. I think the list of people who can have this effect on your decision-making is quite short. And on that list, I don't have to be psychic to figure out who it was. This has Irving Ravitz's fingers all over it."
"Please. I'm just following his directive." Kay didn't even try to deny Irv's involvement and I just stared at Miranda.
"I see. I'm not impressed with exactly how you decided to execute this directive. He might be above you in rank, but so am I. If Andrea has my ear, it's because she's a brilliant assistant and organizer. What also matters in this equation is that I have the ears of most of the board of directors." Miranda slipped off my desk and adjusted the cuffs of her blouse. "This is what we'll do. Andrea will show me what she has, and if I deem it Runway quality, I will send it on to you myself. You will then do the same. I give you one more chance to act like a professional. If I hear anything else about Andrea's competence being in question, I will know who to come for. You won't be able to hide, and neither will Ravitz."
Miranda closed the call and picked up the bags from the floor. "Here, darling. I swung by the closet and found some things I think could suit you. If you don't like them, just send them back." She quickly caressed my cheek and then headed for her office. "Email me Calista Meyer's piece and the photos with captions."
I was still reeling, and I was ashamed to admit, aroused. Coughing to find my voice, I answered the only way I could. "Yes, Miranda."
Continued in part 21.