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Andy had been checking the time all day, too nervous with giddy excitement to focus. Finally, when the lunch hour stuck, she stood, grabbing her jacket and purse.
“Is it hot dog time already?” Noah asked, stretching. Hired only a month before her, the fellow junior reporter had the desk across from hers and over the past few months they’d taken to bouncing ideas off of one another and getting the occasional hot dog from the guy on the corner.
“Sorry Noah, I can’t today,” said Andy, not feeling sorry at all, “I already made plans.”
“Something for an article?” he asked.
“Nope, meeting a… friend,” Andy said, unable to keep the grin off her face. They really had never declared what their relationship was- the idea of having that sort of talk with Miranda Priestly was almost laughable- but the last time they’d had dinner, when the night was over Andy had kissed the corner of Miranda’s mouth making the older woman blush and say, “I- well, yes,” before squeezing Andy’s wrist.
“A friend,” Noah teased, “Right.”
Andy quickened her steps as she made her way down the sidewalk, take-out bag clutched in one hand, feeling the familiar rush of nerves as she approached the Elias-Clarke building, breezing past the security guards and stepping into the crowded elevator.
The Runway offices were busy as ever as Andy stepped off the elevator and turned towards Miranda’s office. The buzz of hectic work was not unlike the noise in The Mirror’s bullpen, although at Runway it was tempered with the sound of high heels clacking across the polished floors and the competing perfumes filling the air. Andy went from being the best dressed person at The Mirror to the worst dressed at Runway in the matter of moments.
A trembling assistant sat behind Andy’s old desk, eyes flicking between the phone and Miranda’s office. Her red hair was pulled back into a severe bun and she looked like she was going to pass out with fright, but she was better dressed than Andy, so that had to count for something.
“Is she in?” Andy asked.
“She has a very very important meeting and no one is allowed to disturb her,” the new second assistant said.
Andy leaned to one side, watching through the glass as Miranda checked the time, brow furrowed with irritation. Six months ago a look like that would have sent Andy ducking for cover, now she just smiled.
“I’m Andy,” she said, extending a hand, “I think I’m that meeting.”
“Maddie- Madeline,” said the assistant, “And I don’t have an Andy down, just a-“
“Andrea,” Miranda said, “Finally. Let’s hope you at least got the order right for all the time you took getting here. Give Emily your coat.”
Madeline jumped up to take Andy’s jacket.
“I remember where the coat closet is,” said Andy to Miranda, but surrender her coat all the same.
Miranda ignored her, taking a seat on the closer side of the desk, pulling the other chair far too close to her own for a normal friend lunch, or for a former assistant lunch. Andy tried, and failed, to hide her smile.
“Whatever are you smirking at?” Miranda said with a glare as Andy handed her the stake she’d brought.
Their knees brushed.
“Madeline said you had a very very important meeting and no one was supposed to disturb you.”
“Who?”
“The new second assistant.”
“Ah, Emily.”
“Not Andrea?” Andy asked, stabbing at her salad.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Miranda replied, not looking at her. “There’s only one Andrea.”
Andy shifted her legs so her jean covered knee pressed more firmly against Miranda’s nylon covered one. Miranda didn’t move away.
“Emily,” Miranda snapped, when they’d finished lunch, “Get Andrea’s jacket.”
“Yes Miranda,” Madeline said, scrambling to the closet only to shove Andy’s jacket into Miranda’s outstretched hand. And then in front of a wide eyed Madeline, Miranda helped Andy with her jacket. She slipped it over Andy’s shoulders, easing her hair out from where it caught under the collar, and stepped in front of her to tug at the lapels and adjust it accordingly.
“I suppose that’s acceptable,” Miranda said with a slight purse of her lips, her eyes sweeping over Andy.
Andy’s face flamed, but she savored the heat.
…
Stepping into the elevator, Andy pressed the ground floor button, then leaned into the mirrored wall to check her lipstick.
“Hold the door!” Noah called, and Andy jumped to press the door open button until he joined her, panting.
“Thanks. My girlfriend got the night off early for the first time in weeks and I cannot be late,” he said, smoothing his hair before looking at Andy and whistling, “Geeze Sachs. Where are you going?”
Andy tugged at the hem of her skirt, suddenly self conscious. She was clad in a black tea length dress with white pleats that flared out when she walked, with her hair loose from its usual pony tail and little pearl drop earrings that she hoped no one would notice were fake and from Macy's. She looked good, and she knew she looked good, but Andy Sachs: Junior Journalist still felt a bit at odds with Andrea Sachs: Miranda Priestley’s Maybe Girlfriend.
“I’m going to a benefit,” said Andy, “For childhood cancer research. It’s at the Met.”
“I didn’t realize we were covering that,” said Noah.
“No, uh, it’s not for work.”
“Don’t those things cost thousands of dollars a plate?” Noah asked.
Andy watched the numbers go down. She tried not to think about it too much. She settled on, “I’m going with someone. They had an extra ticket.”
Miranda Priestly Plus One was a standing invitation at this particular fundraiser, so that wasn’t a lie.
“Thats a pretty expensive extra ticket, Sachs,” Noah said as the doors opened to the lobby, “Want to walk to the subway together?”
Miranda insisted on picking her up, or rather having Roy pick her since the dress was, according to Miranda, “Not suitable for public transportation.”
“Not tonight,” said Andy as Roy pulled up in Miranda’s town car, “I already have a ride.”
“Fancy car,” said Noah, looking through the windows of the building’s lobby, before opening the door for her, “In that case, allow me.”
“Thank you,” said Andy, "Enjoy your date!”
Noah waved as he headed towards the subway entrance, “Enjoy your fundraiser!”
…
She didn’t mean to fall asleep, but the couch was so comfortable and the sound of Miranda working- her pen marking up the Book, muttering to herself- was oddly soothing. It wasn’t until she was being woken up that she even realized she’d fallen asleep.
“Andrea,” Miranda’s voice, softer than normal, gentler even, cut through the quiet dark and Andy felt the light brush of warm knuckles against cheek.
Andy blinked up at her, disoriented, “‘m sorry,” she mumbled.
“It’s late,” said Miranda, “Come upstairs to bed.”
“I should go,” Andy said.
Standing, Miranda took both of Andy’s hands in hers, “It’s late,” she repeated, “You shouldn’t be out, it’s not safe.”
Andy let Miranda pull her to her feet, heard the words unsaid, and let her lead her by the hand upstairs. She’d never been in Miranda’s bedroom before and half asleep she felt as if she was in a dream. She swayed in the doorway, rubbing her eyes as Miranda turned down the bed and got out some pajamas.
“Put these on,” said Miranda. “I’ll be right back.”
She quickly changed into the cotton pajama set, slipping into bed. She was exhausted from the day, the week, the month, but Miranda’s bed and soft and deep, smelling like her. Andy’s eyes drifted shut, relaxing into the pillows. She listened to the water start and stop in the bathroom, then the door open.
The bed dipped and Andy forced herself to open her eyes. Miranda was watching her, face scrubbed clean of make up, and the smallest smile tugging at her lips. Andy reached out, her fingertips clumsily brushing against Miranda’s cheek. Miranda covered Andy’s hand with her own, holding it there, turning her head to nuzzle Andy’s palm.
“Let me drive you to work tomorrow,” Miranda said.
“Why?” Andy asked sleepily.
“Must I have a reason to dote on you, Andrea?” Miranda said, arching an eyebrow. There was a hint of exasperation in her voice but Andy didn’t take it to heart, instead, she smiled.
“Oh, that’s nice,” she said, the last word getting lost in a yawn. Miranda set Andy’s hand down, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Andy’s parted lips.
“Good night Andrea,” Miranda said as Andy’s eyes slipped closed.
The next morning, clad in clothes that fit Andy suspiciously well, leading Andy to think this had all been premeditated, Andy sat beside Miranda in the back of her town car.
Glancing at her phone, it finally clicked into place. A year ago was Andy’s first interview at Runway. She couldn’t help but smile- she’d have never guessed Miranda the sentimental type- watching as Miranda snapped orders into her own cell phone. She paused her string of demands only slightly when Andy reached over and took Miranda’s free hand in hers.
As they pulled up in front of The Mirror, Andy lifted Miranda’s hand to her lips, kissing her knuckles. Miranda blushed and said, “Really, Andrea.”
“I’ll see you later,” Andy replied, squeezing her hand before stepping out onto the street.
Turning from watching her car drive away, Andy met the surprised gazes of Noah and Miles.
“Whoa,” said Miles. “Fancy car you got there, Sachs.”
“Yeah,” Andy rubbed the back of her neck, a little embarrassed, “My- uh- the person I’m seeing wanted to drop me off this morning.”
“What are you dating Michael Bloomberg?” Noah teased.
“No, nothing like that,” said Andy as the three entered the elevator.
“It must be nice to be able to see the person you’re dating,” said Noah, “I feel like I haven’t seen Mads since she got this new job. Her boss called her last night to rearrange her whole schedule today and I thought Mads was going to have a panic attack.”
Andy nodded sympathetically, “That’s tough. We can be pretty busy too though, the news waits for no one and all that.”
“Yeah, you're right. She says it’s a great opportunity and it’s only for a little while; I’ll just have to work on being more patient,” Noah said.
“Okay guys, enough with the therapy sessions,” Miles said, clapping them both on the shoulders as the doors opened to their floor, “The news isn’t going to write itself.”
…
It was surreal to watch Madeline creep into the townhouse and hang the dry cleaning before leaving the Book on the table. Andy leaned against the doorway to the kitchen, glass of water in hand, watching the very scared looking assistant carry the Book like it was something holy. Maddie saw her, gasping as she jumped.
“Oh my god!” Maddie clutched the book to her chest. “I’m sorry!”
Andy had only met her once before when she’d met Miranda at Runway for lunch, and remembered the redhead trembling behind her desk.
“I can take that up to her,” said Andy with a smile.
“I’m not supposed to be seen by anyone,” whispered Madeline, “Please don’t tell her.”
“It’s our secret,” Andy said.
“My,” Miranda raised an eyebrow as Andy entered with the Book, “Vying for your old position, Andrea?”
Andy snorted, “Hardly.”
Still holding the Book, Andy moved to sit in Miranda’s lap, straddling her. Miranda tipped her head back, features betraying nothing as she looked up at her.
“I like my new position much better,” She said, leaning in to kiss Miranda. Miranda kissed her back, long and deep, hands running up Andy’s legs, up her sides, and plucked the Book from her hands.
“If you’re quite done, I have work to do” Miranda said when they broke apart. Her tone had that annoyed hint to it but she was flush and breathless all the same. Andy smirked, rolling off of her and onto the couch, unable to resist one last peck on the check before reaching for her own laptop.
…
“Hot date last night, Sachs?” Miles asked with a smirk as Andy shed her coat, draping it over the back of her desk chair. “That’s quite the hickey.”
He had been looking at Noah’s laptop, leaning over Noah’s chair. Noah looked up too, eyebrows raised. Andy clapped a hand over her neck, trying- and failing- not to blush.
She and Miranda hadn't seen each other in a week, so when Andy had slipped through the front door of the townhouse Miranda pounced. Andy had quickly found herself pressed up against the door, Miranda’s knee between her legs and her mouth on Andy’s throat.
Andy tugged her collar up, in a futile attempt to hide the love bite.
“Is that courtesy of Mr. Fancy Car?” Noah said.
“Right!” Miles elbowed Noah conspiratorially, “Your rich boyfriend- or should we say sugar daddy.”
Andy rolled her eyes, “You guys are so off base.”
“Then who is it?” asked Noah, and both he and Miles looked at her expectantly.
“None of your business,” Andy replied, sitting down and opening her laptop with an air of finality.
“We’ll figure it out eventually Sachs,” said Miles, and Andy shot him her most Miranda-like glare which didn’t seem to have much of an effect.
…
Runway was dark when Andy stepped out of the elevator, save for the single long column of light shining the way to Miranda’s office. Unlike the high heels that the clackers roamed the halls in, Andy’s sneakers barely made a noise as she walked the familiar path to the editor in chief’s office.
Miranda was alone in her office, glasses on, pen moving across what Andy guessed was a layout or article. She paused in the doorway, watching her work. Andy was often reminded of a conductor deftly moving their baton when she watched Miranda work. But instead of musicians with instruments, Miranda conducted words and lights and color in a way that still found a bit mysterious.
She shifted in the doorway, clearing her throat.
Looking up, Miranda immediately glared at being interrupted, but her features shifted to concern, her cheeks flushing.
“Andrea. Did we- I didn’t think-“ Miranda began, glancing at the clock.
“We didn’t have any plans tonight,” Andy said, “I am here totally unannounced.”
There was a slight sag of relief in Miranda’s shoulders as she took off her glasses, fiddling with them.
“It’s really not a good time Andrea, this entire issue has been a nightmare. The girls make science fair posters with more panache,” said Miranda with a sigh. She ran a hand over her eyes.
“Just fifteen minutes,” Andy said, fishing the kitchen timer out of her bag before setting the shoulder bag down on a chair. The timer had been left in her apartment over a year ago and she rarely used it, but now it came in handy. “When was the last time you had a break?”
Miranda eyed the timer, “Five minutes. I really need to get these finished.”
“Ten,” Andy twisted it but held it in place.
“If you insist,” Miranda said and Andy set the timer on the desk. Then Andy crossed behind the desk, behind Miranda, and placed both hands on the older woman’s shoulders.
“Relax,” said Andy, pressing her thumbs into knots of tension string through Miranda’s neck and shoulders.
“Ooh,” Miranda melted into her touch. Andy slowly rubbed her way down her neck, hands firm against her shoulders. Miranda’s flimsy blouse did nothing to hide the warmth of her skin.
“That’s… nice,” Miranda murmured, voice deep and breathy. It was almost a moan of pleasure, and Andy smiled.
Leaning in, with her lips close to Miranda’s ear, Andy whispered, “Let me take care of you for once.”
“Oh,” Andy watched Miranda shut her eyes, “…Yes.”
She used the first five minutes rubbing Miranda’s neck and shoulders, carefully working out the tension, while Miranda sighed and made deliciously breathy noises at Andy’s ministrations. Then, Andy slid her fingers through Miranda’s silver mane, mussing her perfectly coiffed hair. She gently ran her fingernails along Miranda’s scalp, and was rewarded with a low moan.
“Andrea…” Miranda moaned.
“Do you call me?” Maddie appeared in the darkened doorway, hands clasped behind her.
Three things happened all at once. Andy froze, hands still in Miranda’s hair. She somehow felt like they’d been caught doing something naughty despite the fact that the only scandalous thing was the noises Miranda had been making. Maddie’s jaw dropped, taking in the scene in front of her with big, unblinking eyes. She seemed to be unsure of what she was seeing. And Miranda’s eyes snapped open, growling, “Get out,” through her teeth.
Maddie squealed in terror and darted out as fast as her four inch Louboutins would take her.
The kitchen timer went off, and Miranda groaned- this time in frustration- and slumped back in her chair. Andy pocketed it.
“That’s it for the night I guess,” she said, flashing Miranda a lopsided smile, “I’ll let you get back to your work.”
Standing, Miranda stepped closer hooking a finger under Andy’s chin as she pressed a slow, lingering kiss to her mouth. In her heels, and with Andy in her sneakers, Miranda stood a few inches taller. Her touch was light, but commanding, and Andy’s stomach filled with butterflies.
“You are quite good with your hands, Andrea,” Miranda murmured when they broke apart, her lips only a hair's breadth from Andy’s own.
“I’m good at doing other things with my hands too,” replied Andy cheekily, flushed and breathless.
“Mm, I can imagine,” Miranda said, rewarding Andy with the softest of smiles before she leaned in to gently kiss her again. “Goodnight darling.”
…
“Is it Warren Buffet?” Said Noah, passing Andy the pickles from his sandwich.
“Noah,” she said, disapprovingly.
“How about Bill Gates?” Miles guessed. His chair was pulled up to Noah and Andy’s desks, the three eating their sandwiches while Miles and Noah attempted to figure out who Andy was dating yet again.
“Bill Gates lives on the other side of the country,” said Andy.
“That’s not a no,” said Noah.
“No,” Andy said, adding Noah’s pickles to her sandwich.
“One of the Kennedys?” said Miles.
“You guys aren’t going to guess,” Andy said.
“Wait! You went to that benefit thing a couple weeks ago!” Noah grabbed for his laptop, “There’s paparazzi on site sometimes.”
Andy bit the inside of her cheek. She hadn’t looked, but it was quite possible she and Miranda were in PageSix.
“H-hey Andy,” said a voice and all three reporters looked up to see Zack Moore, the Mirror’s mail room clerk, awkwardly wave.
“Hi Zack,” said Andy, smiling warmly.
“I was wondering if m-maybe,” Zack was flushed nearly as red as his hair, “You would want to get a drink sometime? With me I mean. Like a d-date. But only if you want to!”
“Dude! She has a boyfriend!” Miles said, making Zack’s blush deepen. “A super rich boyfriend that probably has ties to the mob. Haven’t you ever seen her sneaking out in all those fancy dresses?”
“Or maybe a Kennedy,” said Noah, grinning.
“Are you even old enough to drink?” Miles added.
Andy shot them both a disapproving look before turning back to Zack. She tried to rearrange her face into something sympathetic and kind.
“That’s really nice of you to ask me Zack, but I am seeing someone,” Andy said, then, directed to Miles and Noah added, “Who does not have ties to the mob- I don’t think at least.”
“Oh uh, okay. Sorry,” Zack said then all but ran in the opposite direction. Andy winced. But at least he’d distracted Noah from trying to look her up in the gossip columns.
…
“Sorry I’m late,” said Andy, arriving right on time, which was ten minutes late in Miranda’s universe, “The subway was delayed.”
Miranda leaned in, her soft cheek brushing Andy’s in her customary greeting. She lingered on the second cheek, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of Andy’s mouth before stepping away and letting Andy open the restaurant door.
“I offered to pick you up from work,” Miranda reminded her, “Roy could have had us both here ten minutes ago, safe and sound, even with the detour to the Mirror.”
“Hundreds of other people take the subway every day and are fine,” Andy said as they sat down. It was a discussion they’d had before, and one she wasn’t looking to revisit over their lunch date.
“You,” Miranda said, lifting her menu with an air of finality, “Are not other people.”
Andy let Miranda order for both of them, a slight concession for being late, and for almost never taking up her offer to be driven places. The subway may have been too pedestrian for Miranda, but it suited Andy just fine.
“A guy at work asked me out for drinks yesterday,” Andy said after the waiter had taken their order. She sipped her water delicately, watching Miranda’s reaction.
“My, aren't you popular,” Miranda replied mildly, but her hand came up to play with her necklace, a nervous tell Andy knew well.
“I don’t think it’ll work out, unless he gets a fake ID,” continued Andy, unable to keep the smirk off her face, “I think he’s like, nineteen.”
“I don’t know, some women prefer a younger paramour,” said Miranda. She slipped the Perrier the waiter had brought her, looking around the restaurant, anywhere but at Andy.
Andy stared at her doggedly, fixed and focused until Miranda couldn’t help but meet her gaze.
“Not me,” Andy smiled, lifting her chin with conviction. Then, when Miranda didn’t break her gaze, she winked.
…
“Oh,” Andy blinked, “Wow.”
Waiting on her desk for her the next morning was a bouquet of roses, fragrant, expensive, and a deep red. There was a small envelope containing a note, which Andy quickly pulled out and read.
For my Andrea. M
“Let me guess, Mr. Fancy Car?” Miles asked, sipping his coffee as he walked by.
Andy nodded, still in shock.
“What did we tell you Zack,” Miles said. He hooked his arm around the poor kid’s shoulders, pulling him off course and making him stop at the desks. “Andy here told her mob boyfriend all about you and now you’ll be swimming with the fishes in no time.”
“For the last time, I’m not dating someone in the mob,” said Andy, rolling her eyes.
Noah, looking frazzled, half ran in. His shirt buttons were mismatched, and his hair was a mess, like he hadn’t bothered to even look in a mirror before dashing to work.
“Overslept,” he grumbled, “Mads’ crazy boss called just as we were falling asleep with some new order.”
He yawned and took Miles coffee from him. Miles looked indignant, but it gave Zack the opportunity to slip away, back to the mailroom, blushing all the way.
“Then she had to get up super early to make some sort of order,” Noah said. “She was so freaked out she wasn’t going to get whatever it was delivered in time and she was going to be fired.”
Andy winced sympathetically, “Uh Noah, your buttons…” she said, gesturing at her own shirt.
Glancing down at himself, he managed to spill Miles coffee down his shirt, “Shit!”
Miles and Andy exchanged glances, trying to hold back laughter.
“Okay pal,” Miles put his hands on Noah’s shoulders and spun him towards the restrooms, “Fix your shirt and we’ll get some real coffee in you.”
…
“A little birdy told me you’ve been gracing our hallowed halls once again and didn’t even stop to say hello,” Nigel said, throwing Andy a look of mock sadness as he stabbed at his salad. “And now I’ve been mysteriously granted an entire forty five minute lunch break when I mentioned your name. Care to explain?”
“If you’re asking me to explain the inner workings of Miranda Priestly’s mind, you’ll be waiting a long time for an answer. Maybe I could warm up with something easier first, like solving world peace,” said Andy. They were sitting outside at a restaurant only a block away from the Elias-Clark building, sporting matching salads and trading familiar barbs. When Andy had kept her promises to try to keep in touch, she had imagined tactful lunch arrangements that would be rescheduled in perpetuity, so she was surprised and delighted when Nigel actually took her up on it.
“The new Emily says you had lunch with Miranda last week, as well as the month before, and the month before that,” said Nigel. “I didn’t realize you had gotten so cozy with the queen of the universe.”
“We keep up,” Andy said lightly, trying not to think about how only the night before Miranda’s hand had been tangled in Andy’s hair, holding her at just the right angle while her thighs bracketed Andy’s face. Apparently Maddie had not told Nigel about seeing Andy at the townhouse, or at Runway earlier that week, and neither had Miranda.
“Sach!” Miles skidded to a stop on the other side of the barrier that separated the restaurant’s outdoor seating and the sidewalk. “Wait! Is this him? Mr. Fancy Car?”
“No, Nigel is just a friend from my old job,” said Andy, “Nigel, this is Miles, he covers the sports beat at the Mirror.”
“Mr. Fancy Car?” Nigel asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah Sachs is dating some mysterious rich guy who's in the mob,” said Miles. “Are you sure you’re not him?”
“As delightful as she is, Andy isn’t my type,” Nigel said, then shot Andy a salacious grin, “But it does seem like she’s holding out on us.”
“I do not have a boyfriend in the mob,” Andy said rolling her eyes, “The guys are letting their imaginations get the better of them.”
“But you are seeing someone,” probed Nigel, “Anyone I know?”
Andy shrugged and took a sip of water.
Turning to Miles, Nigel said, “What else do you know about Six’s mysterious paramour?"
“He likes to drive her around in his fancy car and take her to benefit galas,” said Miles, totally game to discuss Andy’s love life with Nigel, “And sends giant bouquets of roses.”
“Are you guys like, keeping a file on me?” Andy said indignantly.
“Noah and I are going to crack the case,” said Miles before turning back to Nigel, “I was thinking Bill Gates or maybe a Kennedy, but definitely someone famous or else she would have told us already.”
“Maybe I’m just private,” Andy ate more of her salad.
“Nonsense Six, you kept everyone in the loop about the little domestic squabbles you had with that kitchen boy, whether we wanted to know or not,” Nigel said, “And it can’t be that handsome fellow from Paris who tried to ruin everyone’s lives, not if you’re still somehow in Miranda’s good graces.”
Miles grinned, glancing between Nigel and Andy, clearly enjoying this. Nigel tilted his head, something appearing to occur to him.
“Does Miranda know you’re seeing… what did you say? Mr. Fancy Car?” said Nigel. “Maybe I should ask her.”
Andy stilled, “She’ll hardly care about my coworker’s inane theories about my personal life.”
“Who’s Miranda?” Miles asked, propping his elbows up on the barrier.
“Miranda Priestly?” Nigel said. “Oh just the queen of the fashion industry, editor in chief at Runway, and monster under the bed of everyone on the worst dressed list.”
“Never heard of her,” said Miles.
When Nigel looked at Andy in astonishment, she just shrugged as if to say, See?
“Well I see you fit right in at your new job,” Nigel said, and that was that.
…
Andy furrowed her brow as she stared down at her phone, the caller ID reading very clearly, Miranda. The bar hummed with activity around her, half full of patrons getting off work. Putting a hand to one ear to dampen the noise, she answered.
“Hello? Miranda?” It was rare that Miranda called when she knew Andy would be at work, or in this case, had made plans with friends since the latter was a rarity already.
“I heard the most interesting rumor about you Andrea,” Miranda drawled on the other end of the line, “That you are seeing someone else.”
“What? No, Miranda let me-“
“A mobster or perhaps a Kennedy,” Miranda continued, and Andy could hear the small teasing smile on her voice, “The details of your exploits are rather unclear.”
Andy sighed, “I’m going to kill Nigel.”
“Mmm. Where are you?”
“I’m out with some guys from work.”
“I remember. Where?”
Andy glanced around the bar watching as Miles cajoled Zack into a game of darts, while Noah ordered another round from the bar. She’d mentioned the plans to get drinks after work with the guys a few days ago, and had off-handedly told Miranda she was welcome to join her- after all Noah had said his girlfriend would come if she could sneak away from her intense boss. But Miranda has changed the subject and Andy had taken it as a dismissal.
“The Afterglow on 45th Street,” said Andy.
“That’s all,” Miranda said then hung up, leaving Andy looking at the phone again in confusion.
“Good news,” said Noah, passing Andy a beer, “Mads was able to get off work at a decent time and can join us! It’s really great that you two will meet because you used to work at a fashion magazine right?”
“Yeah,” Andy said, still a little dazed from her conversation with Miranda. Miranda was coming there. Miranda was coming to the bar to meet Andy’s nosy coworkers because their stupid mobster boyfriend jokes had made it all the way to Runway.
“My girlfriend got an assistant job at one of those a couple months ago- what was it called? Catwalk? Walkway?” Said Noah.
“Runway?” Andy said, with a sinking feeling.
“That’s it!” He said, “Anyway, she’s trying to figure out how to impress her boss, she says she’s a total terror, and I thought you might have an idea since you have experience with fashion.”
Andy stared at him, “Your girlfriend,” she said slowly, “is an assistant at Runway. With a terrifying boss.”
“Yeah, but, hey get this,” Noah said, “Scary boss lady subscribes to The Mirror! So we must be doing something right!”
“You’re dating Madeline,” Andy said.
“How’d you- there she is! Hey Mads! Over here!” Noah waved happily to someone over Andy’s shoulder and Andy winced.
“Mads, I’d like you to meet Andy, I’ve told you about Andy, we get hot dogs at lunch,” said Noah enthusiastically, while beside him, Maddie paled, her jaw going slack.
“Hi Maddie,” Andy said weakly, “Look don’t freak out-“
“You’re Andrea,” Maddie said, then whirled on her boyfriend, “You said her name was Andy! Not that she’s- her-“
“It is!” Noah looked confused, “You guys know each other?”
“Miranda’s really the only one who calls me Andrea,” said Andy, which stopped Noah. He turned back to Maddie.
“Your boss is named Miranda,” he said as Miles and Zack joined them. Noah looked at Andy. "And you said she subscribed to the Mirror.”
“You know how you guys were really curious about who I’m dating?” said Andy sheepishly, “Well I invited her to drinks tonight.”
“She’s coming? Here?” Maddie looked like she was going to pass out.
“There you are Andrea,” Andy felt a warm hand rest on her shoulder as Miranda leaned in, kissing one cheek then the other, her customary greeting yet one that seemed to linger a moment longer than normal. Somehow, in the confusion and the spike of pure adrenaline that was radiating off Maddie, no one had noticed Miranda come in.
“Hi,” Andy said softly, smiling up at her.
“Hello,” Miranda returned. She wasn’t quite smiling back at Andy, but her eyes had gone soft, which to Andy was basically the same thing.
Everyone else was staring, gaping at the pair.
“Everyone, this is Miranda, who does not have connections with the mafia,” Andy said.
“None that you know about anyway,” Miranda said, squeezing Andy’s shoulder when Andy looked up at her aghast.
“Miranda, this is Noah who’s a junior reporter like me, Miles who covers sports, Zack from the mailroom, and you already know Maddie,” Andy finished. She brought her hand up to rest on top of Miranda’s still lingering on her shoulder.
“Uh, hi,” Maddie waved.
Miranda blinked, looking more surprised than Andy had ever seen her, “Madeline.”
“We found out two minutes ago that Maddie here is dating Noah,” said Andy.
“Well,” Miranda schooled her features back to something almost resembling cool and aloof, “What a coincidence.”
Then she turned her sharp blue gaze on Zack, who was as bright red as his hair, “And this is my… competition.”
Miles burst out laughing while Zack, looking like he wished the floor would swallow him up, managed to whimper, “N-no ma’am. Andy’s just r-really nice, and pretty- I mean- I’m sorry-”
“In that we are in agreement,” Miranda said, tipping her head towards Andy.
Andy lightly elbowed her, “Be nice.”
Maddie’s eyes looked like they were going to pop out of her head.
“Really, Andrea, I’m always nice,” she didn’t have to look to hear the eye roll that accompanied her words.
“Of course,” Andy smiled, “Would you like a drink?”
“No,” Miranda moved closer, arm dropped down around Andy’s waist. ”I’m quite happy where I am.”
Looking over, Andy met her eyes, letting the world around them disappear, “I’m happy too.”
“Well,” Miranda tipped her head, eyes half hooded, “I suppose that’s all.”