Three days of relative calm, when Miranda and I settled into a routine with the girls, lulled me into thinking nothing would happen after all. Cindy was not in touch as far as I knew, Irv Ravitz kept his distance, and my captions and photo choices went up the chain without too many changes.

Nigel had made it a habit to stop by my desk once a day whether he wanted to talk to Miranda or not. He would sit on the corner and make some idle small talk and for some reason he always managed to time it with Moira being on a run. I wasn't stupid. I knew he was keeping track of us. Miranda gave him knowing looks, and he pretended—and not very well—that he was just 'passing by'. He worried about us, I knew this, and I thought Miranda did too.

Miranda hadn't shared much of what she had 'her people' take care of when it came to the twins' father. Perhaps if she had, I wouldn't have been so taken aback when he approached me when I exited Elias-Clarke in the afternoon for an impromptu coffee run as Moira was just back from Calvin Klein for the second time that day. I was hurrying to the Starbucks the next block over, when a tall, distinguished looking man began keeping even steps with me. I didn't pay attention at first as the streets of Manhattan are crowded around the clock, but eventually, he walked way to close to me.

I glared at him, ready to tell him to keep a distance, when my brain kicked in and I recognized him. I had met him a several times over the years, and yes, he was handsome, but he gave me the creeps.

I came to a complete stop, which made the people behind me on the sidewalk curse and swerve to not walk into me. He did the same and looked at me with a strange little smile.

"Andrea," he said and used Miranda's accentuation, which made me see red.

"Ms. Sachs will do," I said curtly. "Why are you following me?"

"We need to talk, Ms. Sachs," James Powell said, in a mocking tone. "We have things in common, after all."

"I wouldn't think so. If you have something to say to your ex-wife, or discuss about the twins, you must go directly via Miranda. I'm her assistance at Runway only. This is none of my business." I started walking again.

James easily kept my pace thanks to his long legs. "You misunderstand. I don't want to talk to Miranda. Not yet. I need to discuss a matter with you, and this is your one chance."

My heartbeat so fast, I thought I could feel it slam into my ribs. Why was he here? What did he want from me? How did he know that I was heading out right now? Surely, he hadn't been staking out Elias-Clarke in the hope to catch Miranda's assistant. "I must ask you leave me to do my job."

"Fetching coffee?" James sneered. "Some job. Didn't you graduate from Northwestern? You must be seriously bored and ready for something new and exciting." James grinned. "Play your cards right, Ms. Sachs and that'll happen."

Seriously freaked out now, I turned and entered the Starbucks, hating that James chuckled behind me as he followed me in.

"Coffee. I told you. This is beneath someone like you." He shook his head.

I wasn't going to argue about my tasks at work with this horrible man. I ignored him and when the barista recognized me, she pointed to the end of the counter where they placed the finished mugs. She knew what Miranda ordered, and I merely held up three fingers as I was bringing the same to Moira and myself.

"She has quite the reach, my ex," James said amicably where he took up position next to me. "Even the baristas fear her."

I refused to engage in conversation with him anymore. I stared at the menus above behind the baristas and started memorizing them, just to tune him out.

"My daugthers think the world of you. Last weekend, it was Andy this, Andy that, according to my wife. She got the impression that you practically moved in. That can't possibly be true, as that would mean Miranda is using your good heart to make you work around the clock. Day and night as it were." James smiled broadly, but his eyes showed nothing. Flat and calculating, they ran up and down my body. "She uses people. Family members, people at work, any person within her social circle—they're all means to an end. Look at the poor sod she married after me. He nearly drank himself to an early grave."

I could have said so much. I could have listed enough of his shortcomings, and Stephens too, to cut him off at the ankles, but it wasn't my place. I kept my mouth shut, but on the inside I was furious. Perhaps some of that showed on my face, because James took half a step back. It wasn't much of a victory—really not a victory at all, but it was still something.

"She has you whipped, hasn't she? Hm. That makes me wonder just what she has on you? What will I find out if I let the firm I've engaged dig deeper? Will I find that she has something on you that she's not about using to make you her…well, I wouldn't go so far as to call you a slave, naturally, but at her beck and call? I'm sure there's something. And trust me, I'll find it. And when I do, I'll use it, and if you're not the smart girl I think you are, you'll go down too. It's not just a fact, it's a promise."

I received the coffee and the barista ran Miranda's Runway credit card quickly. I took the tray, and began making my way to the door. Just as I reached to push the door open, James shoved his arm in front of me and grabbed hold of the door handle. I stopped in my tracks so fast, one of the center-of-the-sun hot lattes spilled over my hand. He shoved the door open, and as pain exploded in my hand, I fell out the door and stumbled out on the sidewalk.

I cried out. It stung so badly, my knees buckled. The tray slipped from my grip and splashed onto the sidewalk, splashing onto his trousers, and he yelled, "Fuck!" and jumped back. "What the hell are you doing? Are you insane? You throw boiling coffee at me, you bitch?"

I cradled my hand, and pressed my back against the window.

"Andy!" A familiar voice spoke my name, but I was so stressed and in so much pain that I couldn't place it at first. I turned my head and blinked the tears away enough to recognize Serena. Emily was right behind her, and she was staring in horror at James.

"What the hell's going on?" she asked James who was still cursing up a storm. He had lost most of his suave demeanor.

"She attacked me with hot coffee," he snarled. "She's crazy."

"She's nothing of the sort," Emily said and got between him and me. "Serena and I saw exactly what happened."

"As did I." The barista had joined up and now wrapped a cold, wet tea towel around my hand. "He wouldn't leave her alone n there."

"Can we have your name and phone number please?" Serena's eyes shot missiles at James, as she put an arm around me. "Andy, we have to get you to a hospital."

"No. I want to go back to work," I said weakly. "The coffee…" I looked at the ground.

"Can wait. Please, Andy. Let's get a cab to an urgent care clinic at least." Serena shook me gently.

Emily had gotten the barista's information and now joined us. "I suggest you remove yourself and get representation. This will not go down well for you." Emily hissed at James.

"Emily," James snarled. "I remember you. The frigid British redhead that licked Miranda's shoes." He threw his arms in the air. "I'm not going to let this rest. You can kiss your finances goodbye, Ms. Sachs. Expect a lawsuit come your way." He stormed off, his long coat fluttering dramatically behind him, making me think of Dracula's cloak.

"All right. Let's take a cab back to Elias-Clark and see what this looks like." Serena stopped a cab with impressive speed. Thanking the barista who had stayed with us, they helped me into the car and placed me in the middle of the backseat. I tipped my head back and focused on breathing. The cooling towel helped a little, but the pain was horrible anyway.

"He's got to be insane." Serena murmured to Emily.

"The barista told me some of what she overheard. That's the thing with people like him. They're so entitled, they don't think regular people have ears. He sounded threatening and even if Andy didn't say anything to him, he kept going on and on," Emily said.

The cab only took two minutes to reach Elias-Clarke. Moaning, I managed to get out, but didn't object when Serena wrapped her arm around my waist. In the foyer, people seemed to part like the Red Sea, and when one of the security guards approached, and made sure we had a direct route to one of the open elevators, I realized that Emily must've texted someone.

Now I heard her on the phone, talking fast in a low voice. "Moira. Emily here. Is Miranda in the office? All right. Keep her there. I don't care. Do whatever it takes."

When the elevator reached the Runway floor, we stepped out and there was only the receptionist. Apart from her, the corridor was empty. I blinked, trying to imagine where everybody had gone to.

A familiar figure showed up further down the corridor and hurried toward us.

"Nigel," I murmured. He was such a welcome sight.

"What the hell, Six?" He moved to my injured side. "Let's get you to the inner office." He turned his head back toward Emily who was behind us. "Did you text the nurse?"

"I did. She's on her way." Emily drew a trembling breath. "This isn't going to be pretty."

"No. It won't," Nigel said gravely. "Prepare yourselves." He sounded remarkably like that very first day I set foot at these offices. 'Gird your loins.'

I had started to wobble when we turned the corner to enter my office. Moira stood a few feet inside the door, trying to helplessly ward off an annoyed Miranda, and right then my knees began to give in.

"She's going down," Nigel said, and together with Serena, he helped me the last few steps until we were well inside and I could slide down onto the floor.

"What…Andrea!" Miranda's shrill voice bounced off the walls and then she was on the floor next to me. "Andrea…darling, what happened? Are you injured?" She stared at my towel-covered hand. Pressing a trembling hand to her mouth, she then switched moods and glared over at Nigel who was also on the floor and then up at Serena and Emily.

"Miranda. We'll explain, but Andy needs to be seen by the nurse. She's on her way," Serena said and somewhere behind the searing pain, I admired her calm. "Her hand was scalded."

"Darling." Miranda cupped my cheek and pushed the hair off my tear-soaked face. "Let me see."

"D-don't touch the towel. It hurts." I shuddered.

"All right." Miranda shifted and wrapped her arms around me. I turned my head into her shoulder. "I'm sorry. I tried to not let him get to me. I did. I tried to ignore him."

"Here," Serena said and then someone took a gentle grip of the arm of my injured hand and lowered it, towel and all into cool water. I cried out, but the relief was instant, if not complete. I whimpered and slumped into Miranda.

"What is she talking about?" Miranda asked quietly. "Someone tell me. Now." I knew I had never heard Miranda sound so furious. This was the dragon making a rare appearance. I could feel her vibrate against me.

Before anyone had time to answer, the door opened and a female voice said, "I'm the nurse. She burned her hand?" Kneeling on my other side, the woman patted my shoulder. "I'm going to take a look now." She began unwrapping the towel with my hand still in the bowl of water.

"Oh, my God," Miranda I said and felt her flinch. "Someone better start talking."

"Emily and I were going for coffee and as we approached the door, we saw Andy on the other side, about to exit," Serena spoke fast. "Then there was a man who stopped her by taking hold of the door handle. I first thought he was going to open the door for her, but he had already made one mug spill over her hand, and then she stumbled out and nearly fell. The rest of the coffee spilled over as well and splashed over his legs."

I tipped my head back and looked up at Miranda. Her face was pale and only the skin over her cheekbones was an angry red. Her eyes were narrow slits and darker than I'd ever seen them. "It was James," I whispered.

"What?" She snapped her head to look at me.

"It was James Powell, your former husband," Emily said. "According to the barista, he was accosting Andy inside, even if she tried to ignore him. He was disparaging, even threatening. We have her name and number."

The fine tremors from Miranda did not bode well. I tried to not worry about what the nurse was doing with my hand. I needed to talk Miranda down because she was about to explode—I could feel it. "He waited for me outside Elias-Clarke. He walked alongside me and kept talking and talking. No matter how I tried to politely decline his company."

"The fuck…?" Nigel was still on the floor but had left room for the nurse to work.

"How's her hand?" Miranda asked. Her fingers were in my hair and she was massaging me gently. "Do we need the hospital?"

"Good thing someone cooled it quickly. Mainly first-degree burns. I would suggest a doctor's visit to be certain, but a local urgent care clinic will do. No need to go to the ER, in my opinion." The nurse had wrapped something cooling around my hand. "Good thing your friends acted fast."

"Yes," I said. "Thank you."

"Here. Take two extra-strength paracetamol." The nurse gave me two pills and opened a bottle of still water for me. I still shook so badly, that Miranda had to hold it for me as I drank and swallowed the medication.

"Let her find her bearings before you go." The nurse got up. "I'm here until five pm if you need me."

"Thank you," Miranda said and I had to smile at the stunned look on Emily and Serena's face. No doubt Moira was shocked at the core over by her desk at hearing the rare words from Miranda.

"Think you can stand up, Six?" Nigel said and got to his feet.

"Sure," I said, but my knees had other ideas. "Whoops."

Nigel helped me up and held me close. "Where?" He wasn't asking me but looked at Miranda.

"The couch in my office," she said starkly. She walked ahead of us and motioned for Serena and Emily to join us. "Moira? We are not to be disturbed. Cancel everything this afternoon and then man the phones and take messages."

"Yes, Miranda," Moira said weakly, probably shocked at Miranda saying her name.

Miranda sat down next to me on the couch and wrapped her arm around me. "Try to relax."

How could I? Across from us, Nigel was sitting in Miranda's chair, and Serena and Emily utilized the two visitor's chairs, not taking their eyes off us. "Guess the cat's out of the bag," I said.

"Seems like it." Miranda ran a hand over her face. "I suppose we need to discuss."

"You're among friends," Nigel said quietly. "Nothing will leave this room. Moira out there is scared witless, and she won't breathe a word after I explain whatever she needs to hear."

Miranda nodded. "Well." And then it was as if she still couldn't continue. She clung to me just as much as she protected me, and I knew her entire system was reeling. I was injured, and it was her ex who had caused it, whether he meant to or not. I knew she was struggling with anger, fear, and guilt.

"I'm not sure he meant for me to get hurt like this." I shifted and sat up, but not away from Miranda. "I found him increasingly unhinged, I have to say, but for him to scald me, seems too over the top, and unless it was a spur-of-the-moment thing, he sure didn't count on being splashed as well."

"You said he waited for you," Miranda said. "How could he know?"

"I don't know. He could have someone he paid off to alert him, I suppose, but even that sounds nuts. I mean, he'd have to be close enough to reach Elias-Clarke fast. Perhaps he was coming here and just saw me? But that doesn't make sense. He seemed to have his agenda all planned."

"I'm sure he did." Miranda gripped the armrest hard. "I know a lot of this doesn't make sense to either of you."

"Oh, I can guess." Nigel shook his head. "You and Six are together. Seeing you like this, it's obvious. James Powell is not a nice man at best, and now when he's allegedly in a bit of a bind financially, the consequences of your prenup must sting even more—even if it has been eight years. He's no doubt trying to get an angle where he can make you give him a handout—either through the girls—or Andy."

"You deducted all that today?" Miranda raised her eyebrows as she kept rubbing my shoulder in a way that I was sure also soothed her frayed nerves.

"I figured out about you and Andy before the two of you did, I think." Nigel smiled crookedly. "I've known James longer than I care to."

"I see." Miranda rolled her eyes and then stared toward the window for a few moments. "What else did James say?"

"Before he told me he was going to sue me for burning him?" I felt the pills start to work and slumped back against Miranda from sheer relief.

"You are joking." Miranda said, spitting the words. "He's not going to get anywhere near you, ever again. He has also forfeited his visitation with our children."

If any of the other three noticed the 'our children' part, they didn't let on.

"We are witnesses and so is the barista. Her name and number are here." Emily wiggled her cell phone. "She seems unflappable."

"Good." Miranda cleared her throat. "What you don't know is that Nigel is more right than he realizes. James already has plans to cause trouble, and we have yet to find out what that is exactly. I have an agency look into it, but they haven't gotten back to me yet."

Nigel got up and then crouched nest to Miranda. She looked at him, wide-eyed. "You're not alone." He placed a hand on her tight fist. "Add us three to your already formidable family and your professional teams. Use us when you have to."

"Nigel…" A single tear ran down Miranda's cheek, and he wiped it away.

"Hey." He looked over at me. "How about we get Six to that clinic close to your townhouse where you took Cassidy when she had strep throat that time?"

"You remember that?" Miranda stood, helping me to my feet. "I will do that."

"I'll go with you. Serena and Emily will stand in for you the rest of the day." Nigel opened the door to the outer office. "Moira. These two will help you until you clock out."

"I'll let them know to send the Book digitally, Miranda." Emily nodded briskly.

I barely listened while the others sorted everything that was normally my job. It was as if I was floating just above the floor, and I wondered why that was. I had been scalded and injured before in my life, and not had this type of visceral reaction. Was it because of the situation with James approaching me out of the blue before the injury? Or that it had all felt like such an attack? All I knew was that it might take me a while to feel secure again. I simply wouldn't feel safe until we were home.

"She's not doing so well, Miranda," I heard Nigel murmur almost inaudibly behind me.

"I know." Miranda' spoke shortly. "Moira. Call Roy and let him know it's an emergency."

I heard Moira follow orders, and then we were in the inconspicuously empty corridor again. "Where is everybody?" I asked, but Miranda merely held me by the shoulders, guiding me to the elevators with Nigel on my other side.

When we reached the town car, Roy met us, and his normally so friendly face was somber. "Let me help you, Andy," he said and lifted me, and placed me on the seat. Miranda had already rounded the car and now sat in my normal seat, while Nigel rode up front with Roy.

"I will keep him away from you," Miranda said, her voice low, but with the dragon stirring under her breath.

"What shall we tell the girls?" I asked, slurring a little.

"The truth. The facts." Miranda didn't bother with the seat belt but slid over to me and held me close. "You'll be all right. The clinic close to the house is excellent."

"Pain's not too bad now." I turned into her again. "Seems you're always taking care of me."

"It's what partners do. You'd do the same if I were injured." Miranda kissed my temple.

"Yes." I closed my eyes. Traffic seemed slow.

"Just rest until we get there, darling." Miranda shifted, and I opened my eyes a mere slit, and saw her pull out her cell phone with her left hand and began tapping at the screen. She lifted it to her ear. "Jared Bonn, please. Miranda Priestly calling. Thank you." She was quiet for a few moments. "Jared. Miranda here. We have had an unforeseen development. Yes. Threats. And an assault. There are several witnesses. Exactly. I need you to work with my legal team now. It can't wait."

Half asleep, I knew I had never heard Miranda sound so cold, so matter-of-fact, and yet so furious. I remember Emily's words as we walked toward Miranda's office earlier. "This isn't going to be pretty.'

They had no idea.


Continued in part 26.