Chapter Text
“Maria, wonderful to see you again.” Andy said, extending her hand out.
The Head of Design for Dior returned the handshake, a warm smile on her face, “You too, Andrea. I hope you enjoyed the show?”
“It was lovely, so many great pieces this season. Miranda seemed impressed even. I was wondering if I could get a quote or two from you for the next Dior article that’s coming out after the show?” Andy said, taking the offered seat next to Emily. The Design Head of Retail seemed relaxed in front of her boss, and offered Andy a bottle of water from the fridge next to her.
Andy nodded gratefully and took a sip before launching into her pre-prepared questions, “What was the main goal of this spring seasons pieces?”
“We wanted to try and be bold and go away from traditional spring pieces. Little floral, and when there was floral it was more muted. Emily has noticed on the retail side of the things more neutral and dark colors have been selling, so we wanted to emulate what is reflected in the numbers.” Maria said, giving Emily a smile before refocusing on Andy.
“Would you say you’re leaning more into retail side of Dior? Trying to build pieces the general audience finds relatable?” Andy asked.
“I think it’s important that the general audience understands your voice. And if that is moving away from overly bright colors, which has never been my forte, than I’m more than happy to do it. Just because people who aren’t fashion experts enjoy the pieces doesn't make them less bold or reflecting of the trends of the world.” Andy loved interviewing Maria for this reason. Her answers were so well thought out and her voice never changed. An interviewer’s dream.
“Final question, Maria. Emily Charlton, your Design Head of Retail, had a lot of input in this season’s wear. Is this a trend you think other top designers will follow in the future?”
“They’d be dumb not to. The Design Head of Retail is one of the most important heads, they’re the ones that see the numbers, see which pieces sell and which don’t. There is plenty of room to combine everyday pieces with bold, chaotic design that show our true artistry.” Maria answered, “Almost all the blouses this season were designed by her, along with a few of the skirts. She understands what women need to wear but most importantly, what they want to wear. She understands the costumer base better than anyone I’ve ever worked with.” It was true, Emily knew what women needed to wear to their jobs but understood that they still wanted to have a personal style with it. She had used that to influence and drive all her designs. Well, except one.
“Thank you, Maria.” Andy said, “I’ll send over the quotes for final approval before I send them off to be published next week.”
“Always a pleasure, Andrea. You always write the best pieces. I’m fairly sure Dior has seen a surge of sales sense you came back to Runway.” Maria said.
Andy smiled at the compliment, never quite sure how to respond to praise. Before she left, she stopped and asked, “Miranda and Nigel were being weird when I asked about the opening dress. I have to know who designed it. It was so powerful with messaging about where the viewers eyes should go.”
Fuck.
Emily, who had been mostly looking at her phone due to Franks inability to parent his own children, what she had seen in the man she didn't know, finally came back into the conversation. Emily’s eyes shot open and was thankfully standing just behind Andy, frantically shaking her head at her boss.
Unfortunately for her, her boss either didn’t see or didn’t care. Given Nigel’s comments earlier, she was betting on the latter.
“Oh yes! Such a beautiful piece wasn’t it? Our dear designer here,” she pointed at Emily, who looked like she wanted to shrivel up, “sent me only what I can imagine was a drunk email with the sketches of this dress and caption along the lines of ‘has to be dark so the pale skin can show. The embroidery has to rest on the top of the hips, drawing my eyes to her.’ And well, here she is.” Maria winked and set off towards whatever other show she wanted to see.
Later Emily would find out it was to go see Miranda and Nigel. But at the present moment, Emily was pretty sure she was redder than a tomato and wanted to die more than anyone on the planet.
“Em? What the hell did Maria mean by any of that?” Andy asked, her eyebrows creasing in the way Emily couldn’t look away from, “Drunk email? Drawing my eyes to the hips so I can see her?”
“I- uh-“ Emily tried, but Andy interrupted her.
“And why were you trying to hide that it was you who designed it? The dress is amazing and you didn’t want to take credit for it? Is that why Miranda and Nigel were so weird earlier?”
Emily didn’t know where to start, but she figured the parts where could tell the entire truth would be the best start, “Yes, Andy, I designed the dress. Yes, I sent it to Maria drunk, but I was just in a frenzy and needed to send it to her before I lost my nerve. I never directly told Miranda and Nigel it was my design, but Maria must have told them.” When she was done, Emily could have sworn she had run a marathon with how labored her breathing was.
“Okay, but that doesn’t answer why you never took credit for it. Oh my god, is Maria holding the drunk email over your head so she can take credit for it?” Andy sounded almost angry at the thought.
“No! No, she didn’t steal it nor is she hanging the email over my head,” Emily rushed to explain, trying to quell whatever anger was mustering up inside of Andy.
“Then why did you never claim credit for it?” Genuine Andy had to be the most lethal Andy. Emily could never say no to her.
“Because I did design it for a specific person. And I knew if that got out, I’d have to explain it to everyone and that wasn’t something I was ready to share.” Three-quarters of the truth.
That seemed to shut Andy up. For all of thirty seconds.
“And you didn’t want to share it with me?” Andy asked, timidly.
Fuck.
“No, no!” Emily rushed to say, “Well yes, but not for the reasons you’re thinking.”
“And what reasons are those?” Andy asked hotly.
This was not a time for Emily to find Andy as attractive as she did. Yet her heart and brain had conflicting ideas when it came to angry Andrea.
“Fuck, okay. I designed the dress for a specific person yes. And the reason I didn’t want to tell you is because I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Emily explained.
“Uncomfortable? What kind of excuse is that?” Andy replied, “Emily if you think I’d be uncomfortable that you designed a dress for a woman in mind, you clearly you don’t know me as-“
“The woman was you!” Emily shouted, cutting Andy off mid rant.
“What?” Andy breathed out.
Emily took a breath, “The woman was, is, you. I designed it for you. Andy, I- I was drunk and I was looking at the pictures of us at the Met when we were still young and stupid and the dress you wore just, I dunno, spoke to me. All the sudden I was in a frenzy of designs and that was the one I sent to Maria, and she loved it so much that she made it the opener.”
Andy stood there stunned, mouth slightly open which caused Emily to start to launch into another panic induced rant, but Andy put her hand up, effectively silencing Emily.
“And the ‘drawing my eyes to her’?” Andy asked. Emily was far too gone to notice the slight hope in Andy’s voice.
“I was drunk and just trying to voice what I wanted the dress to covey.” Emily said, ringing her hands together and looking at the floor, too scared to see what kind of betrayal sat on Andy’s face.
Instead, she saw Andy’s hands reach for her own and looked up when Andy gave a hard squeeze to them. Grounding her. Emily felt the tears start to puddle up in her eyes.
“Please don’t leave me. I understand if you need time, but Andrea, I can’t lose you again. I lost you once because I was too much of coward and now, I might lose you because I gained too much confidence. I’ll give you time and space, but please don’t leave me again.” Emily begged, tears making their way down her cheeks.
“Em, you’ll never lose me again, I promise.” Andy said, “But you have to tell me, why did you design that dress?”
“Because I’m in love with you." The confession hung in the air for a moment, "I wanted something that could say it without me having to voice it and that’s what came out. Your absolute femineity mixed with that untouchable masculinity you always carry. How you’re soft when someone gets to know you, but you present yourself with this armor to protect yourself from those you aren’t worthy of your love. The two merge at the hips, where armor meets soft flesh, when femineity and masculinity mingle like they’ve always belonged together.” Emily confessed. Her eyes found Andy’s again and this time all she saw was tears and hope. No anger, no disgust. Something dangerously close to love.
“Emily Charlton,” Andy said, “will you do me the greatest honor of my life and go on a date with me?”
“Really?” Emily asked, shocked.
“Yes, you idiot. I’m in love with you too. I have been since we were twenty-two and twenty-three years old. Since I decided to run off into war zones because I needed something to fill my heart and making a difference felt like the only thing that could in your absence. I was too much of coward to call you back, so I ran away.” Andy confessed.
“You ran into active war zones to run away from me?” Emily shouted, “You fucking idiot, why didn’t you call me back?”
“I thought if you meant to call me, you’d have called a second time.” Any said, laughing, “God we’re idiots.”
“Now that we’ve established that, can you for the love of God kiss me. We’ve already wasted twenty years, no need to waste more.” Emily begged.
Andy’s only response was to lean down and wrap her arms around the back of Emily’s neck, letting their lips come together for the first time. Emily let her arms rest on the small of Andy’s back, deepening the kiss into something much less appropriate for the workplace. But Emily didn’t care, she had waited twenty God damn years.
When they pulled apart, Emily leaned up and whispered into Andy’s ear, “You know I designed that dress to look divine on you, but I’m thinking it might look better on the floor behind you.”
“Emily!” Andy said, pulling away and laughing, “But I think you’re right.”
“I’m always right.” She quipped.
Emily was effectively shut up by Andy’s lips on hers again. She melted into the strong embrace of the taller woman and couldn’t find a reason to be anywhere but there. Grounded.
After twenty years of free falling, the two were finally grounded. Not by gravity, or careers, or past relationships they threw themselves into. No, for the first time in twenty years they were grounded by each other.