The visit to the urgent care clinic, where a sweet nurse and very busy doctor deemed my injury to be, if not mild, then at least something I could treat at home, went quickly. A few blisters had appeared on the back of my hand, but the skin across my joints had only sustained first-degree burns, and I could use my fingers.
With a new bandage, a prescription for painkillers, and a pamphlet with advice, I stood in the townhouse foyer together with a bristling Miranda and Nigel. I felt that if Nigel hadn't been there, Miranda would have lost it. She was furious enough to do something she would regret.
"Shouldn't you go rest, Six?" Nigel asked and helped me out of my stained coat. Coffee had splashed up my sleeve and then it had become wet when Serena dipped my hand in water at Runway.
"Yeah," I said. "But I don't want to be alone in our bedroom." Only afterward did I fathom what I just let spill. It was one thing that Nigel knew we were together, to blurt out 'our bedroom' like that was unnecessary.
I glanced at Miranda who didn't seem to notice, and back at Nigel who had. He winked at me and made a 'never mind' gesture with his hand.
"The couch in the den, perhaps?" He motioned behind him.
"Sounds better." I walked over to Miranda who was arranging and rearranging her Hermès scarf around the clothes hanger several times, clearly lost in thought. Probably plotting James's demise.
"Miranda?" I place my uninjured hand on her shoulder. "I'm going to lie down in the den, okay?"
Her eyes glazed over, and she didn't answer me right away. Then she flinched and turned into me, her arms around my waist. "Yes, of course, darling. I need to discuss something with Nigel anyway, and I'd feel better if you were down here where I can hear you." She kissed me on the neck and then my cheek. "Are you in pain?"
"Not now. Pills seem to be working still."
"Roy will be back with your prescription medication soon. I'll place the bottle on the coffee table it's here. You should change into something better suited for a nap though. Let me run up and get it."
"Okay, thanks." I kissed her on the lips, not caring one bit that Nigel was present. "I'll be in the powder room for a moment."
I stepped into the downstairs powder room as I was ready to burst. When I was done, I removed my coffee stained clothes and left only my panties on. I shivered as I studied myself in the mirror. I had goosebumps all over, and my face was chalk white. That made my eyes look like black holes. My hair was beyond disheveled, and I found a brush in a drawer and did my best to detangle it. I made an absent-minded note that I was due for a haircut.
"Can I come in, darling?" Miranda said from the other side of the door, and I opened it. She stepped in and without a word she helped me get into the super soft tracksuit. She studied my reflection and let her hands run along my body. "You'll be warm soon. I'll bring a couple of the cashmere throws."
"That'd be good," I whispered. "Miranda…"
"Not now, darling. You need to rest. This was a shock to your entire system, all of it. I'll deal with it." She was so steadfast in her response, I had to use all my knowledge and intuition regarding the woman I loved to see beyond her façade. She was barely holding it together, and if I pushed the matter and inserted myself at this point before she'd had time to regroup and think, it wouldn't go well.
"All right. Just come and wake me before the girls are home. What time is it?"
"Four am. You have two hours. They're at piano and violin practice after school today. Roy will fetch them when they're done." Miranda accompanied me out into the foyer and into the den. I could hear Nigel rummaging in the kitchen, next to the den.
I lay down and as soon as I was engulfed by the couch, the throws, and tucked in by Miranda, I could feel my eyes begin to close. "Don't forget to wake me."
"I won't." Miranda kissed my forehead, and then my lips. "Sleep now, Andrea. I love you."
"I love you." I fumbled for her with my good hand. She took it and kissed my fingertips, and that was the last I remembered before I nodded off.
###
I had no idea how long I had slept when voices from the kitchen woke me up. Drowsy and wanting to go back to sleep, I shifted on the couch—oh, yes, that was right—I was in the den. My sore hand made me twitch and I raised my head enough to look for the bottle of pills Roy was supposed to get. It sat with a glass of water right next to me. I squinted at the bottle of pills and took two and rinsed them down. I drank almost all the water, suddenly parched.
"Is it love, Miranda?"
The question, put in such a gentle way, made my eyes snap open. It was Nigel's voice. He was still in the kitchen, and obviously, so was Miranda.
"That's very personal, but…very well. A love like I've never known before, if you must know." Miranda answered Nigel's question with a stark voice.
"Damn. I knew Six was in a bad way regarding you, I mean, the girl's not good at hiding her feelings." Nigel chuckled.
"That's not my experience," Miranda said. "Andrea is a deeper well than you would ever imagine."
"Oh, I don't mean that she's shallow. Just very much in love with her boss." Nigel cleared his throat, and I imagined Miranda shooting him one of her looks. "Was it when she had her procedure you realized how you felt?"
Miranda appeared to hesitate, and right then I wished very much to hear her answer that.
"I already knew, to a degree, that I would never get over losing her to another job, another man, or, God forbid, to illness." Miranda spoke so quietly, I had to strain my ears. Perhaps it wasn't cool to eavesdrop like this, but they knew I was in here, and they had to surmise I could wake up at any time.
"Miranda." Nigel's voice was infinitely kind. "How long?"
"…since Paris." Miranda coughed and I knew she was choking on tears.
"Paris was hard on all of us," Nigel said. I knew he had been compensated for Miranda's harsh decision where she had chosen her career over her promise to her friend, but the topic was still raw for both of them.
"And now you feel you are responsible for what James has done—and plan to do," Nigel said. "You know his actions are his own, right?"
"Of course, I do. I'm not an idiot. But I also know that it's my past catching up with me and it is hurting my girls, and Andrea, quite literally!" Something slammed into a hard surface and shattered.
"Hey, hey…" Nigel sounded worried, and that was it for me. I tossed the throws aside and stood on wobbly legs. It took me a few moments to find my bearings, but then I strode into the kitchen, where Nigel was moving Miranda out of the way of the shards that were the remnant of her mug.
"Miranda," I said quietly and merely took her in my arms. "Easy does it." I held her rigid body close.
"You're supposed to rest," Miranda groused. "It's only been an hour."
"I don't need anymore. I feel a lot more grounded." It was true. The initial shock had worn off while I napped. Now I was still in some pain, but soon the pills would kick in. "You need me."
"I—I do." Miranda sank into me and I met Nigel's eyes as I rocked her gently.
He regarded us with something like an epiphany in his eyes. "Looks like that's what you needed, my friend," he said gently. "Why don't you bring Miranda into the den, Andrea, and make her put her feet up before Caroline and Cassidy are due home? She's spent this entire hour on the phone with her private investigators, Leslie, her legal team, and Daltons."
"Daltons?" I asked, confused. "Why the school?"
"It was the first thing I did," Miranda murmured against my neck. "As I have sole custody of our girls, I made sure that James won't be able to take them off the premises. Their extracurricular activities are mostly on school grounds, so it covers their leisure time as well."
"You're not going to allow visitation for a while." I knew this already, but I still brought it up. "If he can be this unhinged with me, who's practically a stranger, to get at you—imagine how he might use the girls. They won't buy into anything bad he says about you, but he can still cause such problems."
"Yes. Exactly that. Unhinged," Miranda hissed.
Nigel followed us into the den. He pulled up a smaller armchair to the coffee table while I pulled Miranda down to sit with me. I tugged at her legs, ending up with her stocking-clad, cold feet in my lap. Using my good hand, I pulled a throw over her legs and mine and massaged her feet. She closed her eyes briefly, but then opened them and looked between us with her run-through gaze.
"He's also broke," Nigel said. "That's no secret. His private law firm is something of a failure and his spending is, and has always been over the top. Building a house and marrying has cost him a fortune." Nigel shrugged. "It's pretty common knowledge in some circles."
"What circles are those?" Miranda frowned.
"I have been dating this guy who works at a bank, and he is rather well-informed about financial matters overall even if he's not working at James's bank. He filled me in when he learned who my boss was. Perhaps not entirely by the book, but in this case, I don't care. If what I heard helps my friends, so be it." Nigel leaned back and crossed his legs. "James latest stunts may well be as crass as a matter of money. If he can find a way where manipulating Miranda will bring him money, I feel he would consider it worth the risk."
"Even if it meant doing something like today?" I must have come off as naïve, but it all seemed crazy farfetched.
"Manipulations is his strong suite," Miranda said. "He was always good at it, and I, like a fool found that an admirable quality, as I was not above doing some of it myself. The difference was, I did it to get ahead at work, he did it to cover up lies at home." She sighed. "I only realized this after the twins were born, and he stopped pretending."
"No wonder you made sure he didn't get custody of the girls." I shuddered. She sounded so disgusted.
"That was blackmail, darling. I made sure I had so much information about his affairs, and his dubious business dealings, that when I filed for divorce, he had nothing—nothing to counter with. He tried creating some lies, but the court saw right through it."
"And now he was trying to find an angle by approaching me directly." I swallowed hard. "I didn't give him an inch, Miranda. I promise. From what he said, his wife, Paula, had heard the girls talk about me a lot though. I think that's where he found that particular angle."
"He's got quite the strategic mind," Miranda said. She shifted to sit next to me. Smoothing her hair, she adjusted her sleeves in a, by-now, familiar gesture. "I am using the same agency as last time, and they're getting a dossier together. I will ask them to look into his finances at a deeper level, which might be my best way to go on the offensive. I'm not going to sit around and wait for him to create more havoc in my life. And if he thinks he can approach Andrea again…" She stopped talking and looked like she was going to be sick.
"I'm fine. Or I will be in a few days. And I think he tried to stop me from leaving—I honestly don't think he meant to hurt me physically." I wanted her to breathe and not go into another tailspin of fury.
"Whether he meant to do it or not, the result speaks for itself. You are injured." Miranda raised her chin and looked at me with cool eyes. This was how she used to regard me in my early Runway days. Now it was for a completely different reason. This was Miranda in pre-attack mode, how she operated when someone she loved was—in her mind—in danger. I had seen her go on the prowl before. Page Six was one such entity that received the brunt of her counterattacks if they crossed her line, which was normally to do with the girls. Now she was directing all her fury toward James, for what he did to me, deliberate or not, and for his scheming against her and her family.
"True. And it sucks." I tried to placate her, but that backfired immediately.
"Sucks? It ought to be deemed as criminal negligence, at the very least," Miranda spat. "He has been nothing but a pain ever since the girls were born. For several reasons, he dropped the act of perfect husband overnight and began living a parallel life. It was infuriating—and humiliating, and I hated him for it. But whatever I went through then doesn't even compare to what I'm feeling now." Her eyes were dry, and she sat ramrod straight next to me—and she looked formidable.
"All right," I said gently. "Look. You're taking every precaution. You're doing what you need to keep us all safe from him."
"Yes, but I shouldn't have to." Her voice was almost an octave lower, and I sensed the dragon again. Somehow, I knew that this was Miranda at her most dangerous.
Nigel exchanged a wide-eyed glance with me. It was obvious that he too was aware that she would not allow us to contradict her. She was going after James with all the available resources.
"I'll have to make a few more calls. One of them will be to Paula Powell." She turned my face toward her and kissed me firmly on the lips. Getting up, she grabbed her cell phone and strode toward the stairs. "I'll be in my study. Let me know when the girls are back." She took the stairs in staccato strides, her jaw set and her eyes ablaze.
Nigel and I sat there in the den, just staring at each other for a few moments.
"Fuck." Nigel rubbed his bald head. "He's toast."
"He'll be a burned piece of toast." I shook my head. "You have no idea how much I regret going on that coffee run. I rarely do them anymore as that falls to Moira. If I'd stayed in the office—"
"—Then he would have managed to 'run into you' at some other point. Like when you were leaving late to bring the book to Miranda. Or at your apartment. If a person is determined enough, they'll find a way."
I shuddered. "That's a bleak concept."
"Sure is." Nigel sighed. "I'm glad Miranda didn't put up a front in the office when she saw that you were hurt and in pain. For a trembling moment, she dropped her mask and let me, Serena, and Emily see how she felt about you. Moira too, but she doesn't get the full scope, I don't think. She's still lives in perpetual fear that she'll screw up and be fired. Much like most of Miranda's subordinates. Present company excluded, of course." He gave a crooked smile. "And by fear, I mean strong apprehension."
"I'm trying to figure out why I was in such a state earlier. I was in a lot of pain and shock, after what happened. It's strange because I've injured myself badly a few times in the past. I once broke my arm while skiing. And fractured my tailbone while rollerblading. Really painful stuff, and I was lucid and not in shock at all—like today. I'm trying to wrap my brain around that." I pulled my legs up under me and studied Nigel closely.
He pointed at me. "You're in love with Miranda, and her ex shows up to worm himself in and pry for information. You want to get rid of him and continue with your tasks, but he's like a leech. Refuses to back off. And then, whether he meant to or not, he causes you to drop a mug of nearly boiling coffee on yourself. Is it a wonder that your mind is trying to sort that out?"
"When you put it like that…and I can add the panicky feeling I had. My fear of saying the wrong thing and inadvertently giving him something he could use against Miranda and the girls. I thought he might be after full custody, but he seemed more preoccupied with trying to figure out just who I am to Miranda. I'm not sure he's come to the correct conclusions, but he was snooping in a way that made me super stressed."
"Recap. Accosted by a man whose intentions are not good. He doesn't leave you be even if you ask him to, several times. You're hyper-aware that he's after the woman you love—and possibly her daughters. Add to that a physical trauma completely out of the blue. Ergo—this." Nigel motioned to me with both hands, palms forward.
"Yeah. You're right. Weird situation. And infuriating."
"Indeed."
We sat in silence after that, both of us scrolling on our cell phones. It was nice to have Nigel there, knowing that he wasn't going to budge until Miranda told him to go home. I used all my skills from working as an editor-in-chief for Northwestern, to do my research, and glancing up at Nigel's stern expression, he was doing something similar.
After half an hour, the front door opened and the twins stormed in, followed by Roy.
"Andy! Mom! We're home!" Cassidy came through the door to the den, having managed to lose her school bag and coat on the short distance from the door. "Nigel! Hi. Andy, just wait until I tell you—wh-what happened to your hand. And where's mom?"
Caroline joined us and sat down next to me. "Andy?"
"I scalded my hand on hot coffee, but it's not as bad as it sounds. It stings, but I'll be just fine in a few days." I put my good arm around Caroline. "I promise." Where Caroline's eyes were huge with concern, Cassidy's were narrow slits. So alike, so different.
"I'll go tell Miranda the girls are home." Nigel stood. "And Roy. Are you in a hurry to get home? If not, take a seat in here and I'll bring you something to drink—no," he said to me, as I was about to get up. "You stay with the girls."
"Thanks, Mr. Kipling. I'll have mineral water, please." Roy sank into one of the armchairs and loosened his tie. "You okay, Andy? You look better."
"I am. Thanks."
"Really?" Caroline asked and the poor kid had tears in her eyes.
"Really, really." I hugged her. Your mom is in the study, but she'll be here in a minute."
Cassidy scowled at no one in particular but sat down on the floor next to my feet. She placed a hand on my knee as if she needed the contact but in an inconspicuous way.
I heard the fast, so familiar steps when Miranda rushed down the stairs. A quick image of her doing the same to get her hands on me not very long ago flickered through my mind, but then she came into the room and came to a sudden halt. "Girls," she said starkly. "Good. You're home." She sat down on my injured side and placed a hand on Cassidy's head. "We have some things to discuss." Her eyes held very little expression, but what she let show, displayed how much she loved her children—and me."
"Mom?" Caroline leaned over me, careful not to brush against my bandaged hand. "She shook Miranda's arm. "It's Dad, isn't it? That's why Roy acts like a bodyguard. And Nigel is here. And Andy's hurt."
"Cassidy—"
"And you look like you're about to explode." Cassidy shifted and rose onto her knees, still on the floor. She placed both hands on Miranda's legs, but then moved her left hand and took her sisters. "So, again, what has Dad done?"
Continued in part 27.