Chapter 1

The adventure at Runway hadn't pulled them apart; it had only helped to get to the surface that Nate and she had long drifted apart. They had held on for about half a year longer after having gotten together again.

So she lived alone at the apartment which Nate and she had once shared now. She worked for the New York Times, having been contacted by their chief editor a day after her interview with the other newspaper… Of course she had at once accepted. In just half a year's time, Andy had made it to one of the finest journalists ever having written for them.

Scrolling through her article one last time, Andy Sachs suddenly got interrupted by her cell phone. Keeping her laptop from falling with her right hand, she cast her gaze aside and reached for the vibrating little thing on the table beside the couch with the other, carefully avoiding to knock over her half full glass of red wine. She liked doing this sometimes: sitting there in the evening with just the light of the floor lamp beside the couch while running through her articles for one last time with a glass of wine from which she could sip occasionally.

She did miss the intimacy of someone else about her for sure, though. She was a very affectionate person, and what she missed the most was possibly Nate's arms holding her as she rested. The bed somehow seemed too large for her alone.

She didn't immediately recognize the unknown number. A rapid look at the clock in the right bottom corner of her screen confirmed it was close to nine in the evening. Curiously, she flipped open her mobile phone and held it to her ear. "Andrea Sachs," she politely greeted the unknown person on the other end.

"My goodness! What took you so impossibly long to just take the phone?"

Andy's eyes widened as she seemed to recognize the voice on the other end of the line. She couldn't believe her own ears. "…Emily? How did you get my number?"

"You've kicked it to one of the 'best' New York Time journalists ever in the small period since you've left Runway. Your name is mentioned often enough, and if I mention Runway or Miranda Priestley, it is not so hard," she said as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Her voice sounded impatient and hurried as always.

Andy was momentarily speechless at the avalanche of words, and still – even though Emily's argumentation was not weak – Andy wondered just how her former colleague had gotten her hands on her private cell phone number. She was very private if it came to that. Then again, in the less than a year she had worked with Runway, she had come to find the name Miranda Priestley opened a lot of unexpected doors. She momentarily wondered if it was on her order that Emily was contacting her now and if not… if she even knew Emily had taken use of the privilege to mention her name.

"I never thought I'd hear you again…"

"I'm sure you never hoped to hear me again. This is not for my own delight either, but right now I just see no other solution but to contact you. If there'd been any other, then I'd most certainly never even have dreamed of moving Heaven and Earth to get your number!" Her voice was clear as always, and it tickled Andy to know that at least it hadn't been easy to get her private number.

"What solution?" Andy wondered.

"Yes well, let me finish and then you'll know!" Emily said irritably. "Miranda fired another personal assistant yesterday, and there's been looked for another one, and a new interim girl's coming tomorrow, but my Dad called this afternoon to say that my Mum's had a heart failure this morning, and so I'd like to go there tomorrow and stay until the day after, but I don't dare leave the new assistant alone with no one there to supervise her…"

"Wait," Andy said disbelievingly. "You want me to replace you for the time being?"

"Applause!" Emily said sarcastically. "I'm without any other solution."

"Emily, I have another job now. I can't just leave it until you've returned, just to go and act like Miranda's assistant for a little while again!"

"I'm sure you can," Emily spoke. "This is Miranda Priestley we're talking about for dear heaven's sake! I'm sure that they'll make an exception for this once, and it is just for a few days at the most," she said, rambling on in that same hurried tone that had gotten the ability to automatically cause stress with Andy over the near-year of having worked with her. Again she felt like a toy car of which the redhead had the remote.

Andy's mind reeled. "Hold it, you just said for two days, and now… a few!"

"Two or a few!" Emily exclaimed. "Does it really matter?"

Andy sighed. "No, it doesn't," she said. "Whether it is for two days or a few or no matter how long, I'm not doing it this time. I'm done working for Miranda Priestley. I've worked for her long enough to know it is not the job for me. I'm happy with the job I have now, and I will not risk losing it for a momentary career switch again, despite how much I'd like to help you."

"How much you'd like to help me?" Emily shouted. "Right. You're in fact my last option here, but no! I could have well lost my mother today. Now she's lying in the hospital, and I'm not there with her. Dad's going to be exasperated…"

Andy's heart ached. She herself would go mental, even if it had not been her near family like her mother or her father but less close. She'd have wanted to be there as well… She sighed. "I can't guarantee anything, but I'll see what–"

"You're the best! I knew that I could count on you!"

"Emily, wait!"

Beep… Beep… Great.