A few notes

My Miranda grew up in the US.

I have taken some liberties with the timing of Editors-In Chief of other magazines. So don't use this for any research papers, you will fail!

National Magazine Awards are the Magazine equivalent of a Pulitzer, the winner gets a trophy shaped as an elephant called an Ellie. Pulitzer does not have a Magazine award.

Jazwriter has been amazing in keeping me in line and making my stories better, thank you Jazwriter.

Cats? Really?

Andrea Sachs, former assistant to the powerful magazine editor Miranda Priestly and cub reporter for the New York Mirror was stopped in her tracks by the sight of her former boss. Miranda was sitting alone at a table in a new French restaurant. Here is your chance Andy. Will you or won't you?

For the past six months Andy had been trying to think of a way to apologize to the other woman. She wrote letters and ripped them up unsent. How do you explain yourself without explaining yourself? Andy had left Miranda high and dry in the middle of Paris Fashion Week. How do you justify tossing your work phone into the nearest fountain and deserting your boss at her busiest time of year? She could never tell her the truth, that loving her had made it too hard to be near her.

Andy started to move past the entrance to the restaurant. You coward, she thought to herself. She swung back around and walked inside. Taking a deep breath, Andy moved toward the editor's table. She saw the exact moment that Miranda noticed her. She started shaking as the older woman stood up. Be brave. It's public, and she can't kill you. Okay, she can humiliate you, but you'll survive.

Andy expected Miranda to turn her back, to walk away, to dismiss her. She did not expect Miranda to hold out her hands to Andy as if she were expecting her.

Andy gave Miranda her hands and almost fainted. Miranda slowly pulled her forward and spoke. Her lips didn't move as she spoke with her most fake social smile plastered on her face. "Smile, give me a social kiss, and sit down."

Feeling like she had fallen sleep and woken up in Oz, Andy did as she was told. "Hello, Miranda," she said hesitantly.

"Yes, yes, hello to you, too." The waiter came over as soon as they sat down. Miranda ordered for both of them.

"Umm, Miranda I just wanted to…I mean, well, I wasn't planning on staying."

"No, no, you will stay."

Andy cringed as she heard herself reply, "Yes Miranda."

The two women stared at each other. Miranda with a fake smile plastered on her face and Andy looking two parts scared and one part frightened.

"For God's sake, relax you silly girl."

Andy nodded and tried to smile. She took a large gulp of her water. "Miranda, I really need to —"

Miranda interrupted her. In a rather cold voice she said, "I want neither an apology nor an excuse. You know I can't stand listening to either. I do want you to follow my lead by acting happy to be at this table."

"Yes, Miranda," came out again before Andy could stop it.

"Please stop looking like a deer caught in the headlights. Tell me about your work or your goldfish. I don't care what; just smile and talk."

"Umm, I don't have a goldfish. I…ah work, yeah work is good. I write, you know, for the newspaper and stuff."

"Your eloquence is astounding."

Andy blushed and tried to keep her eyes from welling up with embarrassed tears. She noticed a man rushing across the restaurant. He stopped at their table.

"I am so sorry, Ms. Priestly—"

"Who are you?" Miranda interrupted.

"I am Sebastian. We had a meeting scheduled at one. I was unavoidably delayed."

Miranda raised her eyebrows. "You must be mistaken. If we had a one o'clock meeting, I would be sitting here with you. As I am sitting here with Andrea, my appointment must be with her."

Andy's fake tight smile turned to a real grin as the pieces all fell in to place. Miranda Priestly doesn't get stood up.

Miranda's voice dropped a couple of degrees as she continued. "As you can see, I am in a meeting which you are rudely interrupting." When the man remained rooted to the spot, she continued. "Anyone showing up this late for a meeting with me would have a very hard time scheduling another." Her eyes threw daggers at the clueless man. "If that person was late because he had an earlier appointment with someone else, say Anna Wintour, it would be his last appointment with me." She smiled that awful smile that Andy knew meant the death of a career and said, "That's all."

As Sebastian turned to walk off dejectedly, the server brought their food. Andy nodded toward the man who was walking away. "Is he any good?"

Miranda shrugged, "Not good enough for a second chance with me. He was extremely lucky you were here. Otherwise I would have ruined him. I don't like to sit alone in a restaurant, and I couldn't very well get up and leave. As it is, Anna can have him."

"Miranda, I know you don't want to hear it, but I need to say it." The older woman rolled her eyes as Andy continued. "I will not give you an excuse because there isn't one. I was immature, brainless, and unprofessional. I am sorry that I left you stranded in Paris. I am sorry that I was your biggest disappointment. Thank you for the recommendation."

"Yes, well now we have that out of the way." Miranda gave a more genuine smile and nodded to someone across the room. A rather nervous looking woman correctly interpreted the nod as permission to approach and came over. "You will follow my lead," Miranda said in a steely voice, barely moving her lips.

"Susan, darling, what good fortune that you are here. Andrea and I were just talking about you."

Susan's eyebrows practically shot off her forehead.

"Have you met?" Miranda looked at Andy for an answer.

"No, I don't think we have." She held out her hand and said, "Andy Sachs."

"Andrea is a former assistant of mine. Now she is a reporter at the Mirror." At the shocked look on Susan's face, Miranda rolled her eyes and let out a chuckle. "Now, now don't look that way, Susan. I do occasionally let them live." She paused before adding, "The backyard just can't hold any more bodies."

The other woman looked perplexed, as if she wasn't sure if she should laugh or not.

"Anyway, I was telling Andrea she should do more freelance work. She is really rather remarkable." She reached over and patted Andy's hand. "I was telling her that I had heard about a topic you were accepting submissions on. Imagine how embarrassed I was when I couldn't remember the topic." Miranda paused for effect, "I do remember it was something to do with cats." The two women chuckled.

Andy chuckled as well; she wasn't sure why, but it seemed like the thing to do.

"Well, we are certainly fielding submissions on several topics."

Andy jumped when Miranda snapped her fingers and announced, "Siamese cats, the history of Siamese cats. I am sure that was it." She looked over to Susan for confirmation.

"Someday you must tell me how you get your information Miranda. I have not yet put out any feelers on that one."

Andy had a sneaking suspicion that until that moment, it wasn't in Susan's plans at all.

Miranda grinned a mysterious grin. She waggled her finger in the air. "No, no, a woman must have her secrets. How long would you like the article? I am sure Andrea can have something for you to consider in a very short time."

Susan pulled out her card and handed it to Andy."Thirty-five hundred words. I'll expect the first draft in three weeks." Andy nodded dumbly. "Lovely to meet you." The woman nodded at Miranda and left the restaurant with a rather bemused expression on her face.

"Okay, Miranda, I am a little lost here."

"I am rather surprised by that as you have not left the table," she replied sarcastically. "It is very simple, Andrea. In two weeks you will email me an article on the history of Siamese cats. Once it meets my approval, you may submit it to Susan. Really, I would think you would be a little more grateful. I am giving you the chance to write for a major publication."

Andy's looked down at the business card, and her eyes widened. "Cat Fancy," she said completely outraged." "You have committed me to writing an article for Cat Fancy!"

Miranda's smile was mischievous as she responded, "I will have you know that Cat Fancy has a circulation of over 200,000 worldwide."

Andy's voice squeaked as she retorted, "Ten-year-old girls, Miranda! It is read by 200,000 little girls."

Miranda pointedly returned to her salad, and Andy did the same. Andy had trouble not staring at the editor. She had never seen her eyes twinkle so brightly or her lips twitch in true mirth. It was clear that Miranda was actually enjoying herself, enjoying teasing Andy. The thought made Andy's heart flutter.

After their salads were taken away, the women each ordered a coffee. As Andy took her first sip, she noticed Miranda wave someone over. A tall woman in her mid-forties stopped at their table and shared an air kiss with Miranda. Andy's heart almost stopped when Miranda spoke.

"Lesley, darling, what good fortune you are here. Andrea and I were just talking about you. Have you met?" Once again she looked at Andy.

"No, I don't think we have." She held out her hand and said, "Andy Sachs."

Miranda smiled and began, "Andrea is a former assistant of mine." Lesley snorted in amusement. "Oh really, Lesley, I need to let some escape. I have already re-poured the basement floor twice."

Unfortunately for Andy she had just taken a sip of her coffee. As she noisily tried to clear her airways, Lesley laughed. She was obviously more comfortable with Miranda then Susan was.

"Pray tell, how did my name come up today?"

"I was telling Andrea she should do more freelance work. She is really rather remarkable." Miranda reached over and patted Andy's hand. "I was telling her that I heard about a topic you were accepting submissions on. Imagine how embarrassed I was when I couldn't remember what it was." Miranda paused for effect. "I do remember it was something to do with horses." The two women chuckled. Andy tried not to groan as she forced a smile onto her face.

"Actually, Miranda, I have an idea that should be right up her alley. After working for you, an article on riding fashion throughout the ages should be a breeze." She pulled out a card and dropped it on the table in front of Andy. Two thousand words, first draft in two weeks." Lesley glanced at her watch. "Oops, got to run. Lovely to see you both."

Andy reached out to pick up the card, but Miranda put her finger on it. When Andrea looked up she said, "One hundred sixty thousand subscribers." Then, she pushed the card toward Andy.

"Horse Illustrated," Andy sighed. "At least it includes adults this time."

Miranda rolled her eyes. "You really shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, Andrea." She tapped her finger on the table. "One week to my email for approval before you send it over."

Andy was preparing to complain, but Miranda stopped her cold. "You. Will. Do. This .My. Way." Miranda's voice was absolutely chilling. "I have paraded you in front of my peers and called you remarkable. You will do this my way. You will not be allowed to embarrass me."

Before she could answer, a man approached their table. A man who needed no introduction, at least not to Andy.

"David, how lovely to see you." She looked over at Andy, "Have you met?"

Andy was ready to cry. Here was finally someone she would die to write for, and the conversation didn't start with, David, darling, what good fortune you are here.

"No, we haven't." She held out her hand and said, "Andy Sachs."

"Nice to meet you Andy. Dave Remnick."

Miranda smiled at Dave and said, "Andrea is a former assistant of mine."

Dave burst out laughing, "You are joking, right?"

Miranda huffed, "I am not."

"Well, good for you, Andy. I guess even that horse, Patricia, has to stop eating sometime."

Miranda gave him a light punch on the shoulder. She rolled her eyes and said, "How droll. I would never feed my dog something that unwholesome. And you know, my boa constrictor takes a long time to digest its food. When I go through them too fast…" she shrugged.

Oh great, Andy thought. My ex-boss just told the editor-in-chief of the New Yorker that I am not good enough for her dog to eat. And I am alive because her boa constrictor was busy. She kept a smile on her face in spite of feeling utterly humiliated.

"So, David, how is Natasha?"

He smiled and rolled his eyes. "Horse crazy as always. She loves the subscription you sent for her birthday." He shook his head. "Lesley at Horse Illustrated knows what she's doing. I had to buy Nat a second subscription. They published the pictures back to back, and she needed two copies of the magazine in order to hang up all the horse images. My God! You should see her bedroom walls!"

"Oh, you just missed Lesley. She stopped by the table to follow up with Andrea about an article she requested. You will have to make sure to read it before Natasha cuts up the issue."

Dave smiled at Andy. "I will look forward to it." Then he leaned in and gave Miranda a kiss on the cheek. "You look well, my friend. Esther is on assignment for The Times, but when she gets back, let's get together. Noah and Cassidy can ooh and ahh over that damn cat magazine. I am not going to be able to hold out much longer. I just wish I could find a way to convince him that Siamese cats are much cooler than Himalayans."

Miranda smiled as she watched him leave. The waiter came over immediately following Dave's departure, and Miranda signed the check. Andy was sitting in her seat stunned. Miranda's face was filled with mirth. "I will give you Cat Fancy, but The New Yorker—that needs to be earned." She stood up and left the still stunned Andy at the table. Miranda tossed out a cheery, "That's all," as she left.

Miranda sat in her office unable to concentrate on the work piled up on her desk. In her mind's eye she remembered watching Andrea walking away in Paris. Her stomach clenched as it did every time she thought about it. When it had happened, she hadn't allowed herself to think about why it had hurt. Instead, she had considered it just one more disappointment in a long line of disappointments.

Miranda sighed and turned to the window. Why did I help her? She waltzes back into my life with an apology, and suddenly all is well. Miranda closed her eyes, remembering the moment she saw Andrea from across the restaurant. She had stood up, not knowing whether she was going to stay or go. Reaching out to Andrea had not been planned. It had been as if her arms had taken on a mind of their own. When their hands had touched, she had thanked God for her years of perfecting her image as the Ice Queen; otherwise she would have made a complete fool of herself. Without her legendary control, she would have moaned from the feeling of that touch. She almost wanted to give Sebastian a spread for providing her with an excuse to keep Andrea with her. Almost.

Suddenly it all fell into place—the pain of watching her walk away, the joy of seeing her again—it all made sense. God Lord! I am in love. She just sneaked up on me, blazing smile, quick intellect, and incredible body. Without even noticing it, I fell in love. For a moment she felt the pain of her last love. A pain she swore she would never risk again. But thinking of Andrea suddenly made the risk worthwhile. The past belongs is the past. You have accomplished nothing good by shutting yourself off. Miranda shook her head as she turned back to her desk. She may never feel what I feel, Miranda thought to herself, but even so, something about her fills a space in me that has been empty for a long time. Miranda looked forward to more contact with the object of her newly realized affections.

Exactly one week after their meeting, Andy fired off an email to Miranda with an article about equestrian fashion attached. She had gathered so much information that she could have written several articles. Now she just had to wait and see what her former boss had to say. Andy found this more nerve-racking than defending her college thesis. At one o'clock in the morning she was still awake, thinking of every possible mistake Miranda could have found in her article. She couldn't believe it when she heard the ping indicating incoming email.

From:MPriestly

To:Journogirl

RE: Horse Illustrated

Andrea-

Your email address is ridiculous. You will not send anything to anyone who is aware of our association from Journogirl.

The article is acceptable. I have attached a few edits for you to review. Add a second article about helmets and the way teens use them as fashion statements, seven hundred and fifty words. Lesley will be thrilled that you enjoyed the topic so much you wanted to add something extra for her consideration.

MP

Andrea grinned at Miranda's response. She had sent her story from a rarely used email address from her college days. Andy knew Miranda would be appalled. The edits were minor, and Andy had the article ready to go within one hour. It occurred to her that this truly would be the biggest submission of her career to date. She was about to send a Miranda Priestly approved submission to a major publication! There was no way she was going to sleep. Thank God it was Friday, and she wouldn't have to work the following day.

The mountain of information Andy had amassed on riding fashion had included hats and helmets. She had been able to use the information she already had accumulated to create the extra article, and she had included links to several companies which offered the specialty items she had described. At four o'clock in the morning, the sleepy woman hit send and fell into bed.

To: MPriestly

From: andybear

Helmets

Here is the second article. I just realized that through all of this I never said thank you. Thank you, Miranda.

AS

Andy tumbled out of bed at noon. Her computer was flashing with an incoming email.

From: MPriestly

To: andybear

Re: Helmets

Andrea,

Pay very close attention to the following. If anyone I know receives an email from andybear, you are a dead woman. I have already told Emily to look for exotic snake importers with a specialty in pythons.

The article is acceptable as is. The links were a good addition. Find yourself a grown-up email address and send it to Lesley.

I expect the first draft for Susan, at Cat Fancy, at the end of the week.

You are welcome.

MP

Forward: MPriestly

From: ASachs

Re: Equestrian Fashion

Has it occurred to you that you are currently in the position of editing three magazines? The Cat Fancy article is almost done and Horse Illustrated accepted my articles!

See below.

AS

To: ASachs

From: LWard

Equestrian Fashion

Ms. Sachs,

I agree with Miranda that the quality of your work is exceptional. Rarely do I receive a piece that needs no editing. The second article was a nice touch. Attached please find the contract. We will forward payment upon receipt of the executed document.

I look forward to working with you in the future.

Lesley

Andy forwarded her acceptance letter to Miranda with great excitement. After she hit send, she suddenly felt empty. She and her boyfriend had broken up. Their friends had taken sides, not hers. When her mother had asked for the four-hundredth time if she had met a new man, Andy had snapped and told her that a new man was not in the cards. Since then their relationship had been stilted. Andy put her head in her hands and tried not to cry. It hurt to be this excited and to have no one to share it with.

To:MPriestly

From: andybear

Siamese Cats

Hi-

Wow there is a lot to learn about Siamese cats. Surprisingly, I really enjoyed writing this. Thank you for giving me this opportunity. I really appreciate it. So anyway, here it is.

AS

To: andybear

From: MPriestly

Re: Siamese Cats

Andrea,

I am pleased to see that you are living up to the reputation I have given you. The article is not horrible. I have suggested several edits. Also add a small article about the best ways to go about choosing a healthy Siamese cat with the right personality for one's family, seven-hundred fifty words. I hope you are insisting on adequate pay for your submissions. I will be disappointed if I find you are undervaluing your work. Send me a finished project in two days.

MP

P.S. Emily did find an interesting specialty pet store. If I hear that anyone received an email from andybear, you are snake food.

Miranda smiled as she hit send. She remembered how exciting her first accepted submissions were for her. She had taken her family out to dinner with her first check. Her brother had ordered the most expensive thing on the menu, just to be a pill. As a matter of fact, the meal had cost more than what she had earned from the story.

It was a treasured memory.

Forward: MPriestly

From: ASachs

Re: Siamese Cats

Miranda-

I can't believe that two times you have assigned me an extra article for another magazine and they were both accepted. Well, actually I can believe it; you are Miranda Priestly after all!

AS

To: ASachs

From: SLogan

Ms. Sachs-

Thank you for submitting your articles for consideration. Miranda was correct. You are quite remarkable. The additional article will be used as well as the original. Attached you will find the terms of our acceptance. Please fax it back, and we will forward payment to you. I look forward to future submissions.

Susan

Andy sighed as she opened her mail. Today the checks from both magazines had arrived, but it felt anti-climatic. She had no one with whom to share the news. Andy was only just getting to know the people at work. They were nice but not yet actual friends. She thought for a moment before picking up her phone. Without giving herself time to think, she dialed the number she had memorized over a year ago.

"Yes," Miranda's voice was brusque.

"Hi, Miranda. It's Andy." There was silence on the other end of the line. "Umm. Andy Sachs…"

"Yes, Andrea, I am aware of your full name, and we have spoken recently enough that I quite remember your voice."

Andy realized she had no reason to call. She didn't know what to say. A ball of embarrassment and hurt rolled down her chest, and she hung up the phone without another word. "Stupid, stupid," she said to herself as she banged the phone on her table. The phone rang, and Andy looked at the caller id. It read Runway. Andy began to cry. She pushed the phone across the table and mumbled, "Where is a fucking fountain when you need one."

Miranda was surprised to pick up the phone and hear her former assistant's voice. She hadn't checked her caller id, and to hear that voice, unprepared, had thrown her off-kilter. Miranda off-kilter was never good. The journalist had hung up before Miranda could adjust her attitude. Miranda was not happy that she had rebuffed and possibly even hurt Andrea. What to do? wondered the editor as she stared at her phone.

Andy saw her email icon flashing and opened it.

To: andybear

From: MPriestly

Your Call

Andrea,

It seems that during our brief conversation this afternoon I inadvertently hung up on you. I was trying to keep my hands free and must have hit the end call button with my chin. After that I was unable to reach you. I hope the reason for your call was not urgent.

MP

Andy laughed through her tears at Miranda's thinly veiled apology.

To: MPriestly

From: andybear

Re: Your Call

Miranda,

I am sorry to have bothered you. There was no urgency. I just wanted to thank you again for your help. My articles for Cat Fancy will be published next month and the other articles for Horse Illustrated the following month. Based on several of our most recent communications, I plan on writing for Reptile World next. I think I really need to learn more about snakes.

AS

Andy smiled as she sent it off. She had barely walked away from the computer when the ping indicating an incoming email pulled her back to it.

To: andybear

From: MPriestly

Re: Re: Your Call

Andrea,

I have found a hole in my calendar tomorrow at noon.

Would you care to meet me at that new restaurant that I like for lunch?

MP

To: MPriestly

From: andybear

Re: Re: Re: Your Call

Miranda,

I will see you at the restaurant where we last met unless you have a new favorite. If so, please follow up.

Andrea

When several minutes went by with no answer, Andy left her computer. She was feeling markedly better.

Andy was the first to arrive at the restaurant. She felt her breath hitch as she watched Miranda come through the door. Dressed in a black pencil skirt with a cream off the shoulder blouse, the woman was heart-stoppingly lovely. Andy stood up on shaky legs as the editor crossed the room. Miranda leaned in and unexpectedly kissed Andy's cheek. Oh my God, Andy thought as her heart began to pound in her ears.

Miranda pulled back and graced Andy with a smile. "Oops," she said in a husky voice. She put the flat of her hand on the side of Andy's head and wiped some lipstick off with her thumb. "Better."

It was all Andy could do not to rub her face against the soft hand cradling her cheek.

"Thank you," Andy managed to choke out as she moved back to her seat. Once they were seated with a table between them, Andy was able to calm down.

"So tell me, Andrea, were your parents pleased about your big break in publishing?"

Andy looked down at her hands. "I don't know actually," she said in a subdued tone. "We aren't really speaking right now." When Miranda didn't respond, Andy knew it meant she was waiting for more. "Umm they aren't really happy with my recent life choices."

Miranda studied the sad expression on Andrea's face. Her heart ached for the younger woman. "I am sorry to hear that. Will they come around?"

"I don't know." Miranda watched Andrea's expression go from sad to hesitant.

"You don't have to say more if you don't want to. If you would like to tell me about it, you may."

Andrea studied Miranda's face and then spoke. "Well, when I left Runway they expected that I would want to make up with my boyfriend Nate. Then they felt if I wasn't going to get back with him, I should move home." Andrea shrugged and continued. "They seemed to get over that, but when they started pushing for me to find a nice man, things got really bad." Andrea blushed as she continued. "I told them that I thought I wouldn't be happy with a man."

There was a rather loud silence at the table while Miranda waited for Andrea to continue. The waiter came, and Miranda looked over at her lunch partner, eyebrow raised. At Andrea's nod Miranda ordered for both of them and returned to the conversation. "Are you saying that you are happier being single, or are you saying that you would prefer a female partner?"

Andy's hand was shaking as she picked up her water and took a sip. She needed a moment to think. After her parent's reaction, Andy had not told anyone else about her feelings, and she certainly hadn't acted on them. "The second one," she said.

Miranda rolled her eyes and shook her head. Andy steeled herself for an acerbic observation. She gave a small sigh of relief when Miranda's response was the opposite. "Good God, are they still living in the '50s? I thought most intelligent people were past that already."

Andy shrugged, "I guess not."

"Well, enough about them. How about your friends? Are they excited for you? Two major publications in such a short time is quite an accomplishment." Andy could feel Miranda watching her as she unsuccessfully struggled to keep tears from falling.

"They were kind of upset with me, too. Nate and I had a lot of the same friends, now we don't. I do have some co-workers that are nice. I figured I would mention it when my work was actually in print."

Miranda was looking calmly at Andrea but inside feelings of hope and anger were warring for dominance. The news that Andrea was a lesbian gave Miranda hope for a future she would not have dreamed of just a few moments earlier. In additions, she was angry that Andrea had been deserted by her family and friends.

"I guess it is fitting that you are celebrating your success with me." She gave Andrea a genuine smile. Her eyes twinkled with a little mischief as she continued. "You may pay for lunch." The meal arrived as soon as the words left her mouth.

Andy was grateful she had already deposited her checks. She was also kind of amazed that she was feeling somewhat better. I am taking Miranda Priestly out to lunch with my first freelance paycheck! How cool is that. "What did you do with your first check?" Andy asked.

"Took my family out to dinner. I have four siblings, so it was an expensive proposition. My youngest brother deliberately ordered the most expensive thing on the menu. It wiped out the whole check!" Miranda chuckled. "It was really aggravating in a wonderful kind of way."

The women ate in a companionable silence. After a few minutes Miranda put her fork down and looked at Andy with a solemn expression. "Andrea, your articles were good. Both Susan and Lesley would have been impressed without my help." Miranda's face broke into a frown. "The email addresses, however, would probably have been a deal breaker!"

Andy couldn't stop a bright smile from breaking out. "Thank you, Miranda, that means a lot." She shook her head in wonder. "Actually from you that means… well it means an awful lot more than a lot."

Miranda rolled her eyes with a smile. And then her attention seemed to be caught by someone approaching. Miranda stood up and held out her hands. "Hayley, wonderful to see you." Andy felt jealous as she saw the other woman approach. When she saw that Hayley only got an air kiss, Andy felt smug.

"Have you met Andrea? She is an up and coming freelancer." Hayley held out her hand.

"No, we haven't met. I had lunch with Lesley yesterday. She told me she was grateful for the introduction." The woman pulled a card from her wallet. "We are fielding several articles right now—"

Miranda took the card and interrupted the other woman. "Andrea is much in demand right now. She is actually working on an article for me. Don't think you can just jump to the head of the line."

Andy wasn't sure where to look. She was trying not to allow her face to show the shock that came with the announcement that she was supposedly writing for Runway.

Hayley patted Miranda's shoulder. "Don't be selfish, darling. I wanted to meet her." She looked over at Andy and nodded to the card that Miranda had intercepted. "Email me your information, and I will let you know if something comes up."

"I am sure Andrea will be in touch after she has finished the article I have requested." Hayley cocked her head sideways as if to ask for specifics. Miranda smiled. "Just between us now," she said conspiratorially, "she is writing pieces on the history of different colors."

Andy had no idea how she kept from falling over as she heard Miranda continue. "I believe she has already begun her submission on cerulean blue." Miranda blithely picked up her fork and took a bite of her lunch. Hayley understood the chat was over and took her leave.

It was a mammoth effort for Andy to keep from laughing. She was able to hold it in just long enough for the other editor to get out the door. Then she lost it, a bubble of laughter from deep in her chest bursting forth noisily. She put her head down on the table and tried to breathe while her shoulders shook, causing the water goblets to teeter precariously.

Through it all Miranda continued to daintily eat her meal, looking as if nothing was amiss. After her third attempt to speak, Andy was able to force a few words out. "Cerulean blue, you told her I am writing an article on cerulean blue!" The laughter came back but not as uncontrollably as before.

Miranda rose her eyebrow in a regal manner. "Yes, I did. I expect it by Wednesday. Really Andrea, it can't be too hard. I believe most of the research has already been done for you."

Suddenly the laughter was gone, and Andy looked a Miranda in shock. "I am really writing an article on cerulean blue? You are asking me to write something?"

Miranda smiled softly at the younger woman. "When your parents wake up to the real world, they will be very proud of you." She reached across the table and patted Andy's hand. "I am proud of you, Andrea." Then she pushed the card she had been holding over to Andy.

With a lump in her throat, Andy looked down at the card. When she read it Andy felt like she had been hit by a truck. "My God! that was Hayley Romer! She wants to accept submissions from me for The Atlantic!?"

"Mmm" said Miranda. "Average print circulation is 480,000." Miranda tapped her finger on her lips. "Now if you really want to make the big time, I will introduce you to Nancy Perry Graham."

"Who?" Andy asked. "I mean I am having lunch with Miranda Priestly; how much more big time can I get?"

Miranda's lips were trembling with humor as she replied, "Actually, you are buying lunch for Miranda Priestly." `

Andrea snorted, "Come on, How could she be as big time as you and I not know her name?"

"Well, you should learn it. Nancy's circulation leaves Runway in her dust." Miranda smirked at Andy's shocked face. "AARP Magazine has over 21 million subscribers."

Andy giggled. "Oh my God, Miranda, what if she had stopped by the table a few weeks ago?" Andy spoke with a pretty good imitation of Miranda's socialite voice and said, "Nancy, darling, I was telling Andrea that you were accepting submissions. Imagine how embarrassed I was when I couldn't remember the topic." Andrea paused for effect. "I do remember it had something to do with old people."

The women chuckled, and Miranda looked at her watch. "As pleasant as this has been, I must go. I will look for an email on Wednesday." Another kiss on the cheek, another caress to remove lipstick, and she was gone, leaving a blushing Andy to pay the bill.

Miranda smiled as she thought back to her lunch date with Andrea. The younger woman was certainly easy to tease. And based on her reaction to a little flirting, she wasn't completely uninterested either. I'll just have to wait and see what Wednesday brings. Miranda chuckled to herself. Assigning an article about cerulean blue was a risk. I can hardly wait to see how she handles it. And when she does submit it, what will I do with it?

To: MPriestly

From: Journogirl

Cerulean Blue

Miranda,

Has anyone ever told you that you are evil? I don't mean behind your back but right to your face? I remember every word of your humiliating speech on cerulean blue. Imagine my surprise to discover that it was fiction, one hundred percent fiction. Oscar de la Renta never did a collection of cerulean gowns! Oh and Yves Saint Laurent, he retired that year. He didn't make a single cerulean military jacket.

I believe you are not just evil, you are an evil genius! A speech like that, off the cuff, amazing. Really, you could win a Golden Globe with that kind of scripting! Now I have a conundrum. What does the evil genius want me write about cerulean blue? I was greatly relieved to discover that it is actually a color.

Attached please find a submission about a pigment introduced in the 1860s and is prominently featured in Claude Monet's La Gare Saint-Lazare, 1877.

AS

P.S. Can you explain to me how Mary Dalheim from Ranger Rick got my email address?

Emily knew Miranda Priestly. As her first assistant, she had figured out how to do her job by understanding Miranda's various moods. She jumped at the bark of laughter that came from Miranda's office and tried not to panic. She had never heard Miranda laugh. This was not a sound that was common at Runway.

To: Journogirl

From: MPriestly

RE: Cerulean Blue

Andrea-

Claude Monet's work has always been a favorite of mine. I have returned your submission with the necessary edits.

I can't fathom why you think I would have any idea how Mary got your contact information. I hope you were professional with her. She does lead a magazine with a circulation of over 500,000.

Lunch on Friday?

MP

"Coat, bag," Miranda said to Emily, her behavior indicating that she was preparing to leave the office, even though nothing in her schedule indicated she had an appointment. Considering her odd behavior of late, Emily was glad to see her go. Hearing Miranda laughing and saying thank you was really putting her on edge. As soon as she could slip away, Emily ran to the art department. "Nigel," she said to the art director to gain his attention."Something's really wrong with Miranda. She isn't herself."

"Oh, what are her symptoms?" he replied.

Emily took a deep breath. "For the last few weeks she has been laughing while reading her email. She has said thank you twice, and today she smiled at me when I gave her a latte." Emily shook her head. "And she just seems lighter somehow."

Nigel shrugged, "It sounds like she's feeling happy. Isn't she allowed to feel happy?"

Emily put her hand to her forehead and said, "She's wearing pastels, and she doodles." Her voice rose an octave as she added, "Her blouse was pink, and look at these!" Nigel took the Post-it notes from her hand and studied the doodles, cats, horses, beavers, and an amazing boa constrictor.

"Oh my God," he closed his eyes as he reached for his chair and sat down. "She is in love. This is how she acts when she's in love."

"I don't think so," Emily replied. "I was here when she first started dating Stephen. She was never like this."

Nigel shook his head, "She didn't love him. I've seen her in love once. It was about 30 years ago. You wouldn't recognize her; she glowed."

"What happened?"

"They'd gone out dancing. Some redneck was waiting outside the bar and attacked them when they came out. It was the seventies; it happened a lot." Nigel's eyes turned cold as he locked them with hers. "Julie was dead by the time they got to the hospital."

"Julie?" Emily whispered, her hand moving to cover her heart.

"Julie," he confirmed. "The next morning Miranda told me she'd never take that kind of risk again. She placed a wall around her heart, and the dragon was born."

"So," Emily's voice was a little shaky, "what should we do?"

Nigel took a deep breath. "Pray, I guess. If she is in love and it works out, you will see someone amazing. Julie's Miranda was not only my best friend but an amazing woman to behold. If it doesn't work out, if she gets hurt, I doubt there will be anything left of her to worry about."

To: MPriestly

From: journogirl

Lunch

Miranda-

I would love to meet you for lunch on Friday. That is if I finish my submission on beaver dams and how they are built. I'm sure the National Magazine Awards committee will be banging down my door once it hits the stands.

Do you have the circulation of every magazine in print memorized, or are you making that up?

AS

P.S. What are you planning to do with my cerulean submission? It really doesn't seem like Runway material.

To: Journogirl

From: MPriestly

RE: Lunch

Andrea-

Milton Esterow, editor of ARTnews, circulation 65,000 and I are having lunch next week. I've heard he was fielding articles on pigments in art. I think red next if the beavers will allow. I hope you are not disappointed that it will not be for Runway. I do have future plans for you, never fear.

I am sure we can discuss the circulation of as many publications as you might like on Friday. Though I must say, I am not sure how I feel about being in line behind beaver dams. I will see you at 1:30 at that place we like.

MP

To: MPriestly

From: journogirl

Job

Miranda-

You are aware that I have a job, right? Since you did personally write a reference, I was under the impression that you were.

AS

P.S. Does Mr. Esterow know he is fielding articles on pigments?

From: MPriestly

To: Journogirl

RE: Job

Andea-

If you want to freelance full-time, pay your dues to Cat Fancy now and in a year or so you can toss your typewriter into the Bethesda Fountain. I believe you still use them at your little paper?

MP

To: MPriestly

From: journogirl

RE: RE: Job

Miranda-

Low blow, Priestly. See you Friday.

AS

Friday morning Andy walked in her work place and was greeted by a group of meowing co-workers. She saw an issue of Cat Fancy prominently displayed on her desk and couldn't stop a huge grin from breaking out on her face. As she picked it up, several of her colleagues patted her on the shoulder in congratulations. It was amazing to feel the outpouring of friendship.

"You go, girl!" the receptionist, Jenny, said. "My daughter loves this magazine. I was so surprised to see your name on the front cover when it came in yesterday!"

"Hey Andy, why didn't you tell us? This calls for a celebration."

"Sorry, John," she replied to the sports editor. "I didn't want to jinx it."

Greg, her boss, came out of his office and clasped her shoulders as if he was going to shake her and smiled. "Way to go, Andy. The first round's on me after hours." Then he looked at everyone and said in a gruff voice, "Back to work!" With much laughter, everyone did just that.

Andrea entered the restaurant, and Miranda's heart almost stopped. She took in the sparkling eyes and huge smile that the younger woman couldn't seem to contain. When Andrea returned her cheek kiss with one of her own, Miranda's whole body felt flush, and she sat down quickly. "Well, you seem very happy today."

Andrea sat down and reached across the table to grip Miranda's hand. "Thank you, oh my God, thank you!" Miranda's hand was tingling where Andrea was touching her. She cocked an eyebrow in question. With her other hand Andrea pulled a copy of Cat Fancy from her bag and handed it to her.

"Oh I see, your name is in print right on the front cover." Miranda smirked at her. "I have trouble believing that this glowing girl is the same one who almost throttled me for the referral."

Andrea grinned at her sheepishly. "The receptionist at the paper brought in a copy. Everybody congratulated me, and we're all going out for drinks after work." She furrowed her brow and continued, "When I came in they all meowed at me. It was kind of strange."

"Well, just think, next month they can all neigh at you!"

Miranda squeezed Andrea's hand and pulled her own back.

"Ha, ha," Andrea said as they both picked up their menus to order.

After an half hour of pleasant conversation, Andy got up the nerve to ask the question that had been running through her mind for weeks. "Miranda, what are we doing?"

The editor looked up, her face a mask. "Eating lunch. Andrea. I think that is pretty obvious." Andy didn't respond; she just continued to look at Miranda. The older woman let out a dramatic huff. "We are, I suppose, collogues and building a relationship."

Andy caught Miranda's eyes and held them with her own. "You don't usually, actually, kiss your collogues."

Miranda's voice got a little husky. "I suppose I don't."

"But you kissed me." Andy suddenly became shy and looked at her hands.

"I suppose I did," Her voice was becoming even more husky. It shook Andy right down to her toes.

"What does it mean?" There was a quiver in Andy's voice.

Miranda put her hand over Andy's trembling ones. "What do you want it to mean?"

Andy's voice was shaky as she responded, "Don't play with me Miranda. Please don't play with me." She tried fruitlessly to keep a hitch out of her voice as she continued, "I have been really lonely, really, really lonely. Our lunches and emails mean something to me. If you don't want to be my friend, tell me now." When a tear leaked out from Andy's closed eyes, Miranda reached up and wiped it away.

"I am not playing with you," she replied. And then in an offended voice continued, "My God, do you think I get Ranger Rick for just anyone? Really, Andrea, did you smack your little head on the pavement on the way in?"

Andy's chuckle had a little hiccup in it as she watched the transition from Miranda, her affable lunch partner, to La Priestly.

She shook her head in amazement, "Why are you doing this? You are opening doors that will change my life."

"You see, Andrea, if we are going to be friends, you really will need better clothes. A few more articles and you might be able to upgrade that blouse."

"We are, aren't we," Andy said with a smile. "Going to be friends I mean?"

Miranda nodded as she stood up. "We are," she agreed. Her kiss when she leaned in to say goodbye rested on Andy's cheek just a little bit longer than customary before she whispered, "We are," and turned away.

Watching the alluring editor exit the restaurant, Andy murmured with a smile, "We are."