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Miranda’s schedule was at a near bursting point this time of the afternoon. The May issue was nearing its printing schedule but the center layout severely lacked a cohesive theme. Nigel had put forward an up-and-coming photographer with an ‘enchanting spirit we haven’t seen in years’ and Miranda had pushed her skepticism aside.
It had been a mistake. Not a serious one, but she simply had to be more hands-on with this issue while Nigel nursed a broken heart.
Simply put, Miranda didn’t have any time to waste in petty squabbles and hurt feelings.
“You will apologize to her,” Miranda said before Andrea’s fair-weather friend Lily opened her mouth.
“Excuse me, who the f—” Lily’s voice rose to a pitch with her fury. She looked around the gallery and stopped short when a woman who had more money than fashion sense glanced at them. Lily’s cheek glowed as she said in a lower tone, “who do you think you are to come into my work like this?”
“You know exactly who I am,” Miranda said with little patience. “And you know why I’m here.”
Lily bristled, an expression Miranda had gotten used to during the last five months. “You have no right getting on my business.”
“I have no interest in your business. I’m interested in my own,” Miranda said with a glare. Lily paled but met Miranda’s glare with one of her own. It was almost comical. In many ways, this woman was still green around the edges, too transparent with her feelings. It’d be so easy, too easy, for Miranda to cut her down at the knees.
“It has nothing to do with you,” Lily said, taking a step forward and getting in Miranda’s space.
Normally, Miranda wouldn’t have dignified such a childish lie with a response, but this was more important than her lack of patience. Far too important. “When Andrea cries,” Miranda hissed, “when she’s hurting. That’s my business.”
For the first time since Miranda had laid eyes on her, Lily’s anger wobbled. She swallowed heavily and asked, “She cried?”
“Are you really surprised? After what you said?” Miranda tilted her head in inquiry. “Are you usually so careless with your words?” When Lily's shoulders slumped down, Miranda knew exactly where to hit her. “Or do you usually treat her as your personal punching bag?”
“Of course not!” Lily roared, and the woman at the end of the gallery visibly leaned over to listen to their conversation. Lily sent her a forced smile as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. As if Miranda Priestly usually came to threaten this art gallery’s employees during the middle of the afternoon.
Well, Miranda was sure to appear in a little blurb on tomorrow’s gossip rags over this little spectacle.
“Then apologize.”
Lily stared at Miranda with teary eyes, exposing her vulnerability. If it had been anyone else, Miranda would have struck her down with one more precise word. But Andrea wouldn’t have wanted that. For reasons that went beyond Miranda’s comprehension, Andrea wanted to salvage this friendship. She had called it a ‘life-long bond’ and a ‘life-line’ while she sobbed in Miranda’s arms.
There wasn’t anything special or interesting about Lily. Not that Miranda could see. Andrea was simply far too special, to unique in this boring world to have to deal with this stupid woman. She could do better, Miranda knew. But it wasn't Miranda’s business, not really. She might have been the catalyst of the argument but there was a wound running much deeper than Andrea getting involved with her and Lily’s very negative feelings about it.
It wasn’t about what Miranda, nor Lily wanted. It was about what Andrea wanted. And Andrea wanted this woman in her life. So Miranda would get it for her, she would make it happen.
“Andrea shouldn’t cry,” Miranda murmured when Lily remained silent. “But she did, because she cares for you.”
“You are going to break her heart,” Lily said with a shake of her head. “You’re going to hurt her—”
“You broke her heart,” Miranda said, and Lily snapped her mouth shut and tears slipped down her cheeks. “You hurt her. You did.”
It wasn’t surprising, not really. Andrea couldn’t see it, but Miranda could. She had experienced this once before: being in love with Andrea Sachs and helplessly watching her walk away.
It was a pain she understood far too well. Now it was Lily’s pain and she would have to deal with it. Before Miranda did it for her.
Miranda leaned in, her eyes boring into Lily’s so the woman wouldn’t miss a single word. “I don’t enjoy watching the woman I love suffer. And neither do you.”
Lily gasped and stared at Miranda with wide eyes. “I—” she opened and closed her mouth. She couldn’t deny it. They both knew the truth.
“Get your head on straight and apologize to her. And move on,” Miranda said, turned around, and walked away. She whipped her phone out and called her driver. She had other things to handle.
When she walked into Andrea’s apartment that night, she was greeted by a splendorous smile that put the beauty of the dozen pink and red roses in her hands to shame. Andrea kissed her for a long moment and hugged her tight. Miranda clung to her, wishing her arms were much longer and stronger so she could wrap all of Andrea with them.
“You had a good afternoon,” Miranda said, when they parted.
“You know I did,” Andrea said and kissed Miranda’s cheek. She playfully patted Miranda’s backside.
Andrea was so affectionate and tactile, not something Miranda usually sought out in her partners. It had been a joy to be on the receiving end of all of Andrea’s attention. It had also made Miranda an addict. She craved this, these easy moments, these sweet kisses, this woman.
Andrea took the bouquet from Miranda and brought it to her smiling face. She inhaled deeply and when she opened her eyes, they were warm and soft, without a single trace of the pain that had taken residence in them for the last week. “Sit down, I have dinner ready. It’s that lasagna recipe Cassidy mentioned last week. I want to try it with you before I cook it for them.”
Miranda deposited the Book on its usual spot on Andrea’s coffee table and asked, “are you sure there isn’t more I can do?”
Andrea turned around, the rose petals resting softly against her beautiful face, the light of the lamp shining behind her and creating a halo of warm light. The smile on her face made the brightest star pale in comparison.
Miranda’s breath caught in her chest.
“I don’t think you understand just how much you’ve already done."
END.