Four days after Miranda scared the living daylights out of Lily, I found Moira's successor. He was a confident young man, half a year out of college, and who had majored in fashion, and minored in public relations. Benji Corrigan was 6"3 and moved like a panther. I had interviewed him extensively, but I knew already after ten minutes that Miranda would be able to work with him.

I asked him to wait by my desk, while I talked to Miranda. Closing the glass door behind me, I gently cleared my throat.

"I saw you come in. Just a moment." Miranda was typing up a storm, and to be honest, I'd never seen her type that fast. Normally, Moira and I did the typing around here, except for Miranda's editorial in every Runway issue. Now, Miranda had a deepening frown pulling at her eyebrows, and she slammed into her keyboard, rather than just pressing the keys.

I waited patiently, understanding that if I interrupted her, her annoyance would spill over on Benji.

Miranda smacked her screen down to close her laptop and raised darkened eyes at me. Shit. Who had screwed up so badly, she even looked at me that way. It only took a few moments for her to adjust her demeanor, but then her lips curled into a faint smile. "Yes, Andrea?"

"I have found your next second assistant." It wasn't my only news, but one thing at a time.

"Yes?" Pushing away from the desk a few inches, she crossed her legs, which gave me an enticing view of her knees through her glass desktop. She wore black stockings, and I stealthily pinched my thigh to not let on how the view affected me. How the hell had I ever been able to deliver mugs of coffee, important documents, and take copious notes when she'd shown her legs like that? I of course had better self-control back then, as I had no idea that she was into me at all. Now that I knew she loved me, I had no remnant of character at all.

"He's name is Benji Corrigan and he's outside. Do you have time to say hello? He's ready to come in tomorrow and start training with me my last week."

Tilting her head, Miranda pulled off her glasses and tapped her lips with the frame. "Him? Well, now. Of course. Send the young man in along with his curriculum vitae."

"Want me to stay?" I asked as I turned toward the door.

"Yes. Do."

I opened and waved Benji inside. He let his briefcase remain on the floor next to the desk and was holding his CV in his hand. He had looked for a job for a while and knew the routine.

"Miranda, this is Benji. Benji, this is Miranda." I made the introductions and then stepped to the side and took a seat on the small couch in the corner.

"Do sit down…is it Benjamin?" Miranda said and pointed to one of the chairs.

"Yes. It is. Most people call me Benji." Benji sat down but didn't lean against the backrest.

"Pity. Benjamin is a proud name." Miranda nodded and then held out her hand for his document. Glancing it over, she nodded ones, and I nearly gushed my held breath out but managed to catch myself. "You have impressive credentials, but you're inexperienced."

"I learn fast," Benji said calmly.

"You will have to. You have tomorrow, Friday, and all of next week, to learn from Andrea. Moira is new in her position as first assistant, which means you two will have to pick up the slack from each other seamlessly. Will that be a problem?"

"Not at all. I'm going to make the most of everything Andy can show me." Confidently, but with respect, Benji sent me a smile. "I know I have a lot to learn, but I look forward to it."

"And what are your long-term plans?" Miranda handed him back his CV. "And please don't say, journalist. I've heard that far too much."

"That's not for me at all." Benji shook his head. "I want to work toward becoming an art director. My biggest idol is Nigel Kipling, and one day I might get to work for him."

I already knew this, but it was a moment worth waiting for to see Miranda swallow the information that the fashion-crazy young man idolized Nigel, perhaps even before her.

"Nigel is brilliant at his job. You have selected a worthy role model for yourself. All right. I trust Andrea to know what I need in an assistant as she is the best one I've ever had." She hesitated. "Welcome to Runway."

I nearly choked on my tongue and I thought I heard Moira give a tiny little squeak in the outer office. I knew very well that Miranda's changed approach to someone applying for a job hadn't to do with Benji being a guy, but with Miranda's new take on life.

I escorted Benji out and then returned to the inner office. "Welcome? Now there's a nice change."

"Oh, please." Miranda stood and checked her watch. "I have three new meetings scheduled this afternoon. Once I'm done, I'll g home. Are you delivering the book tonight?"

Ah, so my other news would have to wait. I wanted to have time to discuss, and she was already mentally on the move. "Yeah, tonight and tomorrow. Next week, it's Moira every day—until Benji earns his stripes." I shrugged.

"All right." Miranda turned to walk out, but swiveled and walked so fast toward me, I automatically backed into the corner where the couch sat. She cupped my cheeks and pressed her lips to mine. She ran the tip of her tongue along my lips, but before I had a chance to reciprocate, she let go and merely left with a firm, "See you at the house tonight, darling."

I stood by the couch, realizing she had of course made sure we were out of sight, but also stunned at the hit-and-run kiss.

#

I was pretty sure I was the last one in the office as I worked at a last-minute editing of a small text that Miranda had placed on my desk. Absorbed by my work, it took me a moment to react to firm steps in the corridor. I went rigid for a moment, even if I knew that the Elias-Clarke security was top-notch, but it wasn't the first time I had found it eerie to be the last one left in the office.

I sighed in relief when Nigel rounded the corner, carrying a bottle and two champagne flutes. I gaped and then found it remarkably familiar. He had done the same thing in Paris almost more than two years ago when he wanted to celebrate his new job. I hoped this was going to have a better outcome.

"What are we celebrating?" I asked, remembering my words from Paris.

Apparently, so did Nigel, as he winced while pouring the bubbly for us. "Nothing much, really. I would say this is a sort of pre-wake of your Runway tenure."

"It's time. As it turns out, beyond time." I rounded the desk and accepted a flute. "Thank you, though. But you're coming to the surprise party Serena and Emily are fixing for me, right?"

"You know." He didn't look surprised.

"I do. I know most things that goes on around here, as I handle the expenses. I mean, fifty golden disposable plates on a regular Friday?" I chuckled. "Anyway, it's sweet of them. Don't tell them I know."

"I won't. Never seen Emily that giddy. Or giddy at all." Nigel clinked his glass to mine. "I just wanted you to myself, because with a new job happening down the line, and life with Miranda and the twins, you're going to be busier than ever."

"Not too busy for one of my best friends." I kissed his cheeks. "If it wasn't for you, I would not be here. I'd been fired after a few weeks."

"Ha! You bullied me into that makeover. I was reluctant, but, I can admit now, intrigued. You could have been a model, if you had been so inclined. Gone are the days when they have to be six feet and size zero." Nigel sat down on my desk. "And there is another matter I feel I should raise with you, before…well before."

"Yeah?" Concerned now, as his face had turned so serious. "Something wrong?

"No. Not at all. Or not much, I hope. That depends." He ran a hand along his face.

"On what?" I sat down next to him and put my arm around him. "You look worried."

"I am because I think I may be in trouble." He snorted. "Or my heart might be…"

"What?" I flinched. What did he mean, his heart? Was he ill, or…?

"No, not physically, Six. Emotionally." He shook his head. "I might just have met the man of my dreams, but there's too many variables and I'm not sure I'm the one to navigate that."

"I can probably give some advice about navigating a high-yield relationship if that's what you need." I leaned my head against his shoulder.

"I believe you can." Nigel cupped my cheek. "But in this case, you're one of the variables. I cannot stand to lose you as a friend."

I sat up and stared at him. "What are you talking about? That'll never happen. No way in hell." I drilled my gaze into him. "No matter what."

"Brave words. The man I'm falling for is your best friend, Doug." Nigel sat very still after his words.

"Doug?" I blinked and tried to figure out when there had been enough time for Nigel to fall at all. Then I remembered that Doug had spent a few nights at Nigel's condo before he returned to California. That made the whole thing a bit more plausible. "Wow. And how does Doug feel?"

It was educational to see Nigel blush. He studied his glass intently and then rolled his shoulder. "Judging by the way he allowed me to kiss him before he took an Uber to the airport, I would say he's not indifferent. He's obviously much younger—"

I guffawed. I couldn't help it. Leaning against Nigel, I laughed so hard, I thought I was going to pee myself. "M-much younger…?" Snorting, I set my glass down and wrapped my arms around him. "Oh, Nige…oh sweet, wonderful Nige." I hugged him tight and rocked him as I felt him tremble.

"If you and Doug find happiness together, nobody would be happier than I. God, Nigel, did you think I'd have a problem with it?" I pulled back and studied his flushed face.

"He's your bestie." He lifted both hands, palms up.

"You both are." I hugged him again and we spent a few more minutes chatting about Doug. I promised to only tell Miranda, because, duh, but not anyone else, and not Doug, until Nigel had talked to him first.

#

The house was quiet when I stepped inside and removed my coat and shoes. As the kitchen was dark, as well as the den, I guessed Miranda was in her study as the girls were no doubt fast asleep by now. The Book had been delayed an hour which wouldn't go down well with Miranda. When I came up the stairs, I saw that her study was dark as well, which sent a small tinge of worry down my spine. Our bedroom was faintly lit though and I tiptoed over to it and stepped inside, still carrying the Book.

Dressed in her gray silk robe, Miranda was sitting on top of the bed, looking at me over the edge of a novel. A novel? When did she ever read fiction during weekdays? She was normally all about the Book in the evenings and the newspaper in the morning.

"You're late," she said, but sounded less annoyed than I expected. "I called the office and asked if they were intending to keep you waiting for the Book all night."

"So that's why Michael came running so fast, he nearly missed the turn into the office. I saw him skid past me and then run back again." I handed her the Book and she placed it on her lap and put a bookmark in the novel.

"A crime novel?" I blinked after reading the title. "Who are you, and what have you done with my Miranda?"

"Your Miranda had to find something to keep her awake. Not sure why I'm so tired tonight but having to wait an extra hour didn't help." She was ready for bed and being without makeup showed that she looked a little more tired than usual.

"Long afternoon with all the extra meetings, maybe?" I said casually and began pulling off my clothes. I wanted a shower more than anything, even if it would have to be quick. Before that, I wanted to finally talk to Miranda about my other news. If she got started with the Book, I might not get her full attention until tomorrow morning. "Miranda?"

Perhaps it was something in my voice that made her snap her head around to look at me, her eyes narrowing. "Yes?"

"I heard back from the Mirror today. The job's mine if I want it." I tossed my shirt over a chair and now I pushed my hands into my pockets. Not sure why I was nervous, but I was. Perhaps this was how Nigel had felt.

"Are you happy?" Miranda asked carefully.

"Yes. For the most part." I studied my feet for a few moments before I could meet her gaze again. "I have dreamed of working as a journalist for years, and I'm confident that I'll be good at it. I just—" I sat down next to her on the bed.

"Now that it's about to happen, you're hesitant." Miranda took my hand and as I was closer, I saw that her eyes were the softest of blue.

"Yes. Exactly that. The chief editor seems very cool, and they appear to be a nice gang over there. I just don't think it's my final goal, which is strange. I mean, I was always so sure of my dream."

"Is there anything else you see yourself doing down the line?" Leaning forward against her bent legs, Miranda straightened my bangs.

"I know I want to write. I've worked quite a bit on different texts while I've waited for the books over the last year or so, and tonight, once I was done with the editing, I worked some more on a young adult story." I raised our joined hands and kissed hers.

"I look forward to reading when you are ready to share." Miranda smiled and pulled me close. "Are you going to accept the position at the Mirror?"

"Yes. I asked them if I could start in two weeks if I said yes. The chief editor was surprised at the question, I think, but he agreed. I'm going to call him tomorrow and accept."

"I think you'll hone your skills even more by working there. If you still want to write, you can do so in your spare time, and then make a career out of that if you still want to." Miranda drew a finger along my arm and pushed my bra strap off my shoulder. "Why don't you get ready for bed, and I'll make sure they haven't irreparably screwed up my magazine in the meantime."

"All right." I kissed her and went into the bathroom and ran the shower. I brushed my teeth and removed my makeup in record time and then entered the shower stall. Standing there in the mist, letting the water pound on my sore shoulders, I ran my fingertips along the faintly jagged edge where the stitches used to sit. It was all healed, which was a relief. Not for the first time, I wondered if I would have been here with Miranda if I hadn't developed the basal carcinoma. Probably, as I could see that we had moved toward each other in elliptical trajectories ever since Paris. My procedure had just made us align faster.

The door to the shower stall opened behind me, making me jump.

"I did knock," Miranda said. "When you didn't answer, I pictured you sitting in the shower, sleeping."

"You're not the only one who's tired." I turned and saw to my joy that she was naked. "Haven't you already had your shower?"

"Mm-hm." She stepped inside and wrapped her arms around me. "I decided to let the team wait for the book tomorrow morning like they made us wait tonight. I rather do this, with you, than strain my eyes and develop a headache tonight.

She pulled me closer and pressed her lips to mine. I returned the kiss as if I'd been away from home for weeks. She tasted so good, and I just wanted to taste every single part of her.

Miranda took some soap from the dispenser, and I let her wash me. Once she'd rinsed me off, she pulled me with her out of the shower and wrapped me in a large, warm towel. I did the same for her, and after taking turns drying each other's hair, we walked back to the bedroom, stopping several times to kiss. This passion, slow, molten, created such a feeling of being warm and safe. When we crawled into bed, we lay in the center of it, face to face, and I was content just looking at her for several minutes.

Miranda smiled. "I've always wondered what you might be looking for when you explore my face like this. You did it long before we, well…realized."

"I think I perhaps allowed myself to dream what I thought were impossible dreams. I looked for the slightest microexpression that might show you cared for me as a person, not just a capable assistant. I thought about that in the shower just before you showed up." I kissed her. "How we gravitated toward each other long before my health scare. And tried to figure out how much faster we got together because of it."

"Not that much faster. Your mere presence was wearing my resolve down." Miranda wrapped her left leg around me.

"What resolve?" I gripped her thigh and pulled her leg higher over my hip.

Miranda gasped. "That I was too old, that my baggage was too complicated, and that you deserved so much more." Miranda began rocking against me, and I pushed my leg further in between hers. She was wet. Closing her eyes, she then moaned deep in her throat.

I shivered at the sound. "And I had doubts too—it would've been strange if I didn't. No matter how much I wanted you, no matter what I was prepared to do…"

"To do?" Obviously intrigued, Miranda pulled me on top of her, making me end up between her legs, which she raised and hooked around me. "Why don't you share some of that? What were you prepared to do?"

I lost my breath, and pushed her breasts together before I attacked her nipples. She gave a muted cry, and arched her back, and I knew she was already so close. "I have told you several times that I would do anything you ask of me, anything at all. I love you, body and soul, and this…" I nipped at her nipples with my teeth, "…is amazing. You smell so good."

Miranda rolled us, ending up straddling me. "I want to taste you. I've waited all evening for you. It's only fair, I think."

"I agree," I whispered, and saw her shimmy down my body and part my legs. She parted my folds and without hesitation, she placed her mouth on me and, oh God, that tongue that could dress down grown men and reduce them to nothing, did the most wonderful thing to me. When she sucked my clit into her mouth, I desperately pulled a pillow close and buried my face into it. Screaming her name, I came, over and over, in long, slow convulsions.

Miranda removed the pillow and tucked it under my head. She hovered over me until I caught my breath, and I couldn't get enough of watching her glistening skin. "Now you," I said, and kept her in place as she was straddling me again. It was my turn to shimmy down until I had her core just above my face. "Hold on, Miranda," I whispered and pulled her down.

Her thighs trembled as she spread her legs to get low enough. "Here. Pillow."

I found that two pillows elevated my head perfectly, so I could take my time. This was nearly too much for Miranda, who now clung to the headboard, whimpering with each breath.

"I'm close, Andrea," she murmured. "So…so…so close…God…" I heard the desperation in her voice, and I gripped her ass firmly and sucked her clit as far into my mouth it could go, mindful not to hurt her. It was fortunate that Miranda had a good grip of the headboard when she came. Her legs nearly gave in and she moved down before they did. It was my turn to roll us again, to lie on our sides.

Miranda shook, and I cupped her gently, wanting to make sure she needed more stimulation.

"Oh, God, no…no more." Miranda melted against me, holding me tight. "I might pass out if you touch me again right now…"

I chuckled and pulled the covers up over us. Holding her sweat-soaked body, I realized we'd be in for another shower tomorrow morning, considering our state. "I love you." I kissed her shoulder and could barely keep my eyes open.

"I love you endlessly, Andrea." Miranda pulled me onto her shoulder and I felt her body relax. Only moments later, her breathing became even and I knew she was out. Certain I was going to be able to revel in the feeling of lying in her arms, I too fell asleep instantly.

Continued in part 39