Miranda doubted her sanity for the second time within minutes. She should have turned around and smiled welcoming to Colin Benner, the CEO of a food chain, but she…panicked! Instead, she insisted she had promised to dance with Andrea, who had looked like someone just poured a bucket of cold water over her. And yet, when Miranda extended her hand to Andrea, she had taken it. Perhaps because of some muscle memory of always doing Miranda's bidding four years ago?
The violins still played the sultry ballad, and around them, people danced close together. Miranda couldn't afford to hesitate. She moved as if to wrap her right arm around Andrea's waist and take her hand in her left when Andrea shifted and beat her to it.
"I'm taller than you. And I can bet I'm more used to leading." Andrea held her close, but not enough for their breasts to touch, which Miranda surmised was something to be grateful for.
"You have some nerve," Miranda murmured as she sent stealthy glances around them. People stared, of course, they did, what had she expected?
"I have some nerve?" Andrea chuckled a very non-nervous sound that made Miranda go rigid. Why wasn't Andrea as nervous as she was? Or as aware of the commotion they created in the outer perimeter of the dance floor when people flocked to see them dance? "I didn't as you to dance, no matter what you told that guy. Colin Benner, right? Is he here to wash his rep by giving away money that will end up being deductible?" Andrea raised an eyebrow.
"I don't care what he does on his own time, as long as he fills the charity's bank account." Miranda felt as if she was as nimble as a refrigerator when Andrea danced her around the floor as they had done so many times before.
"Well, that's a prosaic way of looking at it, but I suppose that's how it's done at this level." Andrea shifted her grip around Miranda's waist and moved her hand further up. Miranda's dress was fairly low cut in the back, and when Andrea's fingertips reached her skin and she didn't move it, Miranda stepped closer to Andrea and hissed, "What do you think you're doing?"
"Dancing, per your request, Miranda." Andrea turned out to be formidable at leading, which was both surprising—and not. "This appears to be a long tune. Are you all right? You look…flustered."
Oh, that girl. Miranda corrected herself. No, not a girl anymore. A woman, almost twenty-eight. She herself was fifty-four, and the gap shouldn't feel even bigger, age-wise, but it did. "Only because everyone's staring." Miranda regretted her words immediately.
"They are. You look amazing in your dress, and of course, they're curious why you're dancing with me. Perhaps they think I have you at gunpoint somehow?"
Snorting against her will at the unexpected humor, Miranda said, "That or vice versa. After all, you could be perceived as the young prey."
Andrea laughed. "I wonder where their minds go after that?"
"What do you mean?" Miranda wondered if Andrea had pulled her even closer, as the bodies were merely a whisper apart.
"Let's just say that you're right, they the curious crowd thinks I'm the prey. I can't imagine what they assume you'd do if you truly caught me."
Miranda flinched. She would lose her breath. If Andrea were her prey, and at her mercy, she would not be able to remember how to breathe. Regarding this Andrea, similar to the one who once worked for her, but stronger, bolder…she was nobody's prey. This was someone who had worked as a reporter long enough to hopefully not fall off the cusp toward becoming jaded.
"Or the other way around," Miranda said, making sure her voice was almost too low, making Andrea lean in closer to be able to hear.
"Nobody in their right mind thinks I have even a stake in the game here." Another chuckle, perhaps a little shaky this time, made Miranda smile inwardly.
"Which game would that be exactly? One where you use my daughter's exuberance of running into you, to garner an invite to this event. This fall's most coveted ticket, after all."
Miranda knew when the arrow hit because Andrea flinched and jerked her head back, looking like Miranda slapped her.
"What?" For a moment, Andrea looked like she did that time when Miranda scolded her for not getting her home from Florida in time for the twins' piano recital. It had been a minor thing, but Andrea had teared up and ran. She ended up running again, but in a way where the consequences turned out to be much more hurtful and devastating. Would she run now? Was Miranda's venomous words enough to show Andrea that she didn't buy that her surprise appearance at her important function?
Andrea stopped dancing and her eyes had gone from golden-brown to near black. "You are unbelievable. Where the hell did that come from? You can't honestly believe that? It's too insane."
Miranda kept her faint smile going, knowing full well how that unnerved other people. For some reason, it didn't see to phase Andrea. Narrowing her eyes, Miranda tried to read the unexpected expression on Andrea's face. God. Was that pity? No. Nobody, nobody, dared to pity her. Miranda stood rigid next to Andrea and they both still held on to the other as if they were frozen in place.
"Miranda. No matter what you think you know, or what your brain has concocted, you need to continue dancing until the music ends. If people were staring before, they're about to go ballistic now." Andrea pulled Miranda closer. "Come on. Dance!"
Miranda's feet started moving to the music as Andrea danced her around the floor. She even managed to nod to a few acquaintances, and slowly, her sense of being frozen began to abate.
"I've never seen you panicked like this, Miranda," Andrea murmured. "You were often vicious, and I loathed that in the beginning, but tonight is a lot even for you. I choose to not take it personally, since I know, and Caroline knows, the truth how I came to be here tonight. I'm also not going to ghost them again unless you forbid me to see them. Last time was my fault, for the most part, but this time, you will have to explain my absence, if that's what it comes down to.
"Andrea." Miranda's vocal cords stopped working and she tried again. "What interest can you possibly have in spending time with my children?"
"Well, I'm not about to stealthily interview them, or get them to buy me things, or network when I meet the friends' wealthy parents. I'm sure one of two, or maybe all three, of those agendas crossed your mind." Andrea's venom was as searing as Miranda's own.
Miranda hadn't thought any of that, but since she had accused Andrea of other things, it was no wonder that she'd think so. "I could appeal to your better judgment."
"Why? From what you just leveled at me, you can't possibly think I have any." Andrea gave a half-smile. "I have always loved your girls. We spent a lot of time together, more than you know, probably, and reconnecting with them means a lot to me—and them."
The music stopped, and Andrea let go of Miranda as if she'd burned her hands. "I'm going to spend a little time with them, maybe half an hour, and then I'm going to bow out. This was never about anything but sheer curiosity, Miranda. I really can't fathom who you managed to think otherwise. The question is, did you think this the entire time, or did your suspicion awake when we had danced for a bit?" Andrea took Miranda's hand and before she thought to yank it away, Andrea had pressed her lips to the back of it in a gesture of chivalry.
Walking back to the girls, Miranda let herself fall behind Andrea, as she didn't want to be subjected to her girls' scrutiny. Something of her inner turmoil had to be visible on her face.
#
"You looked great on the dance floor, Andy," Cassidy said. She bumped Benny's shoulder. "We should take ballroom dancing lessons.
"We should?" Benny looked startled.
"Yeah. Mom and Andy looked like they were floating. Well, minus that strange pause they made in the corner of the dance floor. What was that about, Andy?"
Andy sighed, but then smiled accommodatingly." I nearly had a cramp in my left leg from wearing these Prada heels. I'm not used to them anymore." Andrea didn't look at Miranda who had caught up to her.
"Mom, you looked stunning…you say you never usually dance much at these events." Caroline took Miranda's arm and then Andy's.
"I'm usually so busy when I'm hosting. Tonight was different." Miranda looked cooly directly at Andrea. If she had still worked for this woman, she would have been shaking, and desperately trying to figure out what she did wrong and trying to rectify it. Now, Andy met Miranda's gaze and raised her eyebrows deliberately. This did not sit well with Miranda, whose blue eyes grew icy.
The twins and Benny chatted about school, photography, and music, and only stayed on topic for a minute at a time, making Andy dizzy in the process. Eventually, her half hour had passed, and she turned to Caroline and hugged her.
"I need to leave, sweetie. I have to go into the office tomorrow."
"No!" Caroline looked crestfallen. "But…can't you come to the townhouse after work maybe? For dinner? We're going to Dad's tomorrow, but not until eight pm. You can come for dinner before then, right Mom?" Caroline looked pleadingly at Miranda and soon Cassidy joined in.
Andy knew she could have simply said she would be at The Mirror all day and into the evening, but that would be a lie. Part of her, she confessed, wanted to see how Miranda would handle this.
"I'm sure Andrea has other plans. We can't put her on the spot like this," Miranda said and waved at someone across the room.
"What do you mean, on the spot? It just dinner in the kitchen. It's not like you have to order a five-course meal from Pastis or have caterers show up with asparagus that cost a fortune." Cassidy glared at Miranda who blinked rapidly in what looked like shock—or at the very least, immense surprise.
"It's all right, girls," Andy began, reluctantly sympathizing with Miranda for being on the receiving end of such a barrage from her children.
"By all means. Of course, Andrea is welcome to the townhouse anytime." Miranda let Andy know threw her glance that this was an outright lie and that there would be no more visits after tomorrow's 'dinner in the kitchen.'
Andy learned that they ate around five on those Sundays when the girls were going to spend the upcoming week at their father's house. She promised to come over as she simply couldn't disappoint the twins. Caroline and Cassidy initiated a group hug and if Miranda hadn't walked across the floor to talk to someone, Andy was pretty sure the girls would have pulled her into their embrace as well.
Leaving the gala, Andy passed the ever-present paparazzi and press and even saw a few people she knew.
"How did you score a ticket to this, Andy?" a man called out. "Schmoozing with the one percent, eh?"
"Just met some people I used to know," Andy said, truthfully. "Tomorrow I'll be back in my black chinos and leather jacket again."
"Well, you look a million bucks tonight anyway," the guy said and laughed.
As Andy walked to where the cabs were lined up, she spotted Roy and the current town car. It brought back so many memories of riding with Miranda to different designers and photo shoots. Those had been part of why Andy had began blurring the lines between her private and professional life. Riding the town car next to Miranda, engulfed in her perfume, had begun to get under her skin. It had confused her, and she had on occasion been honest enough with herself about how she could quite easily be unfaithful to Nate in her mind. Then Nate and she broke up, and then…there was Paris.
Closing her eyes, Andy refused to think about Paris. Too much of the heartache she thought she had processed, was tied to that trip. And so much had gone wrong. She remained as she was until the cab driver told her she had to wake up. She sat up and paid him before exiting the cab. The driver was kind enough to make sure she stepped through her front door. Andy entered the stairs as she harbored a deeply rooted distrust for the elevator.
She dropped the dress irreverently on a kitchen chair. Stockings and shoes weren't treated much better. After a quick trip to the bathroom to remove her makeup, brush her teeth, and pee, she stumbled into bed and turned off all the lights but one with her remote.
Andy didn't know if it was after one minute, or one hour, or more, but her phone rang from where it sat next to her pillow. Thinking it had to be work, she groaned and then said, "Hello, what's up?"
"Andrea?" a low, all-to-familiar voice said, sounding surprised.
"M-Miranda?" Andy sat up in bed so fast, she nearly knocked over her bedside lamp. "What time is it?"
"I know it's late, but we have to talk." Miranda sounded…off.
Checking her phone, Andy saw it was 1.35 am. "You want to talk. Now."
"Yes, of course now. Tomorrow, at dinner, the girls will be here." Miranda sounded as if she was rolling her eyes at Andy's confusion.
"It's late." Andy yawned discreetly.
"It is." Miranda did sound fatigued.
"Should we Facetime?" Andy asked. "Because if that's what you had in mind, I have to get decent first."
Miranda's gasp was as unexpected as it was sexy. "What do you mean?"
Feeling a little devilish, Andy said, "I fell asleep only in my panties."
Andy thought she heard Miranda murmur, "Dear God," but wasn't sure.
"We can just keep talking like this. It might make it easier. At least for me." Miranda sighed. "I clearly didn't think this true. I haven't even prepared for bed myself."
Andy swallowed at the thought of Miranda removing her clothes. Now this wasn't fair. It was one thing for Miranda who loathed Andy—the whole experience at MOMA was proof of that—but a completely other matter for Andy who was struggling with so many conflicting emotions.
She heard a rustling of clothes. "Miranda?"
"I'm still here. I have you on speaker mode so I can get ready. It's been a…long night."
"The girls in bed?" Andy wasn't sure why she asked.
"Yes. Roy drove them back before midnight and returned for me fifteen minutes ago. The downside to hosting is, well, everything, but mainly that I can't duck in and duck out as I please."
Who was this chatty woman? Andy had left a furious, accusatory Miranda at MOMA when she went home, and now Miranda talked to her as if they were freakin' BFFs catching up. Too curious to see where this was going, Andy settled down against the pillows. She tried not to envision Miranda getting ready for bed, but it was hard when she heard the whisper of fabrics being pulled from the body of the woman who had haunted Andy's dreams for a long time after Paris.
Taking a deep breath, Andy tried to prepare for whatever reason that had made Miranda call her in the middle of the night.
Continued in part 3
