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“No…No, no. It was just here, how can–” Emily’s hushed words finally made Andrea look away from the computer screen, her finger hovering on the right side of the mouse. The redhead looked around, behind the computer, under the keyboard, inside the pencil holder, and back around again.
“What was just there?” Andrea asked, and Emily looked at her with wide eyes, as if only noticing she was still on her desk.
“A box! God, it didn’t just disappear, it can’t–” her frantic search continued. Open one drawer, close. Open another drawer, sounds of objects being tousled, close again. “Andrea.” Emily looked up at the brunette, shoulders tense. “Have you seen a box?”
“Box? Like, uh, what kind?” She, too, began looking over her own desk.
“Like a box! The square thing, do you even know what a square is? God, you’re useless!” The redhead growled, crossing towards Andrea’s desk in less than three strides. Ignoring the protests, she began the open-and-close-drawers dance again. “It’s a very important box, Andrea. It’s small, and black, and velvet. I need it. It’s–”
“It’s a ring box.” Andrea said, lips parting into a bright smile when Emily’s only response was to become the shade of a strawberry. “Emily! Thats–” she shook her head, ignoring the glare being sent her way. “–amazing. Congrats, really.”
Emily sniffed, fixing her already perfect hair with a small shrug. “There’s nothing to congratulate me for yet.” She said with an eye roll, but the blush remained on her cheeks. “And there won’t be unless I find the bloody thing!”
“I’ll help you find it!” Andy said unhesitantly, but the other woman pushed her back onto the chair by her shoulders.
“Absolutely not! You’ll man the desks, I’ll look for it.” Before the brunette could protest, Emily was already sprinting out the glass doors. Andrea stared at the spot she had just left for a moment too long, fingers uselessly floating above the keyboard. She jumped when the phone rang – and then Miranda’s voice called from inside her office, in almost perfect synchrony. It ought to be a busy day.
°
It's not like Emily could be considered irresponsible, absolutely not. But the day began in chaos, with the result of the last photoshoot delayed because the team was, apparently, bored enough to lose the final photos. Emily had run through the building after the missing work, the spring skirts samples and the eleven Versace blouses that Miranda decided to remember about at the last second.
The click clack of the redhead’s heels snap down the hall – she's not desperate. Maybe she is. She doesn't want to admit it. Serena is not at Elias-Clarke, for she was sent with the makeup crew to oversee the rehearsals for the next photoshoot, and Emily allows herself to take a deep breath as she notices the absence of the characteristic blonde hair when she steps into the Closet.
“Nigel.” She starts, eyes so wide it's a wonder they didn't fall off her head. “It’s gone.”
The dress on Nigel's hands stands still above his head like a framed picture. He arches an eyebrow. “Gone?”
“Yes. Please, tell me you know where it is because I'm this close to bringing this whole building down.” She draws her fingers in a pinching motion, shaking her hand in front of her face.
“Your fingers are touching.” Nigel says, and the glare Emily sends his way proves it was intentional. “Well, then at least wait for me to leave the building first.” He puts the dress back onto the rack, turning his body towards Emily, one hand on his hips. “Last time you’ve seen the box?”
“Earlier, on my desk.” Emily fought the urge to run her fingers through her hair, pull at her own scalp. “I had taken it out of my bag for just a second, I swear, just to–” Her nervous gaze shot towards Nigel, and just as quickly fell away, she wouldn’t confess to checking the ring once or twice, just for the thrill of looking at it.
Nigel pretended he couldn’t see right through her. “Then it’s still by the desks, has Six seen anything?” The man glanced at Emily before browsing through the clothes rack once again. “Ah, you hadn’t even told her. Poor thing, now you just dropped the engagement bomb on her, as if she isn’t hectic enough.”
Emily had tuned out his ironical remarks with an eye roll the moment Andrea was mentioned; really, couldn’t he see this is a serious situation? Andrea would be of no help – she was being swallowed by work, and the redhead almost felt bad about leaving her alone with the desks, almost. She would feel worse about it if she hadn’t been caught in the Italian-American Runway exchange of pieces as well; she would stay away from Mr Cruise's films for some time, just until the want to hit him had passed.
“Dear–” Nigel’s voice and snap of fingers brought her attention back to the jungle of fabrics, the cacophony of chattering and jewelry clinking and heels clacking. “–the phone, your phone is ringing.” Neither of them acknowledged the way the phone almost slipped from Emily's hands as she retrieved it from her front pocket.
“Hello?” Emily’s face froze in a tight smile. “Serena, yes, hello.” Nigel’s eyebrows were decidedly stuck at the middle of his forehead. “Coming here?! Why? I mean– Yes, of course, darling, but, you see–” Emily shooed the man away, turning around as he tried to listen to the other line. “No, I haven’t… Eaten…” The redhead completely turned around then, arms crossed and a pink hue blossoming on her cheeks, and Nigel heard a faint, chastising voice from the phone. “Okay. Of course. Yes, she– she’s here, he is– Serena, everyone came to work, yes.” Emily discreetly kicked invisible dust from the floor, muttering something the man couldn't make out. “Bye.”
Nigel said nothing, waiting for the redhead to turn slowly. A war veteran had nothing on the expression on her face then, and the man couldn’t help but sigh. “When is she arriving?”
“In fifteen.” She almost whispered, shaking her head as dozens of plans ran through her mind. This was bad. Very bad. She had the entire day planned. She was wearing Vivienne Westwood, autumn collection from the prior year that her girlfriend loved to see her parading around, and she wouldn’t have to run around because that’s what the second assistant is for, she would meet Serena for lunch, casually take her to that Blue Hill restaurant that the woman couldn’t stop reading about. Pull out the ring – cornflower blue gem, to match Serena’s eyes – she says I do, they take the rest of the day off, due to Miranda's rare good graces upon Emily's request, and end their perfect, harmonious night together.
Instead, Emily felt herself going off the rails. She would do anything to hold the train on the path.
“What an amazing day for them to decide to wrap up rehearsals early.” He scoffed, guiding Emily out of the Closet with a hand on her arm. “Breathe, you’re making me nervous. And go on, find it. We got you.”
Emily wanted to ask what in the bloody hell he meant by ‘we’, but she was already rushing down the hall.
°
It could be anywhere– anywhere.
She tried not to panic as she almost slid on the shiny floor on her way back to her desk, re-checking every spot, shoving her hand down her bag in the small closet in the inner office. Andrea jumped from her own desk, immediately shouting ‘restroom, sorry!’. Emily audibly groaned. She paced around like a trapped mouse, biting the edge of her nail, retracing her steps in her head. Arrival, coffee, bag, beautiful ring box, even more beautiful ring, Miranda calling… Andrea returned, smelling faintly of lavender.
“Emily, do you–” the redhead put a finger up, closing her eyes in concentration. Miranda calling… lost photos, pieces for the italian wedding, versace—
“Emily–” Andrea had the nerve to grab her shoulders. “The wedding pieces, they were on your desk, right?”
“Andrea, I really can’t deal with that right now, Tom Cruise can divorce by the end of the week for all I care!”
“Emily!” She frowned, squeezing her arms. “Veils, lace samples, tiaras.” she let go of the redhead. “If your ring was next to–”
“Fuck!” Emily covered her face with her hands, and Andy grimaced. Yes, agreed.
“Maybe you can still catch them, no one has left with the correspondence yet.” Andy didn’t expect a ‘thanks’, but the hopeful look Emily shot her before leaving came close enough.
°
She would hunt anyone who dared say something. Arms deep, she reached and moved around the correspondence box. Emily had already checked the smaller and medium sized ones, maybe someone would’ve thought of separating a delicate, small ring box from the rest of clothes and shoes and hats and jackets – she was wrong, of course. Apparently this bin was separated for the Italian Runway transfer, she could tell by the overwhelming amount of white lace and sparkles; in another situation, she would’ve taken it as a good luck signal, but not now, already losing precious minutes of her lunchbreak, and definitely not when she slipped and found herself hanging half inside the bin by her waist. She yelped and kicked her legs, but she came out with a smile on her face – victorious, at least! She fixed her tousled hair and rumpled dress as she rushed back to the inner office. The velvet box caressed her palm, and she could cry tears of relief.
Nevermind that she was late, nevermind the incompetence of people around her, she truly could do anything. Her heels clicked in that perfect strutting rhythm once again, and her smile widened as she heard the sweet tone of voice coming from the office, the melodious accent, the refreshing laugh. She would greet Serena with all the brilliance of a conqueror, shoulders drawn back and steps confident. One last glance, one last wave of that thrilling emotion–
Emily stared at the scarlet gem on the ring. Solid, alluring, lustrous, mocking. Her breath caught on her throat, the muscle beneath her eye twitching, no, no, no—
“Emily!” The sweet voice called, and the redhead snapped the box closed, hiding it behind herself. Serena approached her with a warm hug, and Andrea was smiling, standing away from her desk; the joyous expression immediately fell when she met the redhead’s desperate gaze over Serena’s shoulder.
“Serena, hi, you–” Emily sounded a tad breathless, and the blonde frowned for a mere second. “You’re early.”
“Ah, yes, can you believe we managed to finish early? I mean, how rare is that?” Serena chuckled, one of her hands still on Emily’s arm, moving up and down.
“So rare, you have no idea!” Andrea said with a forceful laugh, drawing their attention to her. “Emily, could you help me with, uh, a…”
“Will you ever learn to be competent?” She said with an eye roll, but still followed Andrea to the kitchen. Emily pulled her close by the arm when they were out of the blonde’s sight.
“Did you–” Andy was silenced by the sight of the gem on the ring. She looked at Emily, confused.
“God–” She snapped the box shut once again. “I bought a blue one!” she whispered, and Andrea barely held back a gasp.
The brunette almost stumbled backwards when the tall woman peeked her head inside the kitchen. “Everything okay? Is it a Miranda problem or an Andrea problem?” The distinct way the name rolled on her tongue always brought Andy a warm smile, and she shook her head.
“Andrea has a stomachache. A bad one.” Emily glared at the brunette as she spoke, and Andy’s shake of head quickly turned into a nod. “I had to stay, of course.”
“Oh, that’s awful,” Serena offered Andrea a pitying gaze. “Was it something you ate? I mean, the chef is out of the scene, right? Makes sen–”
“Serena, oh my god.” Emily said wide eyes that did not hide well the amusement she truly felt.
“What? I’m just saying–!”
Andrea blinked when the redhead pulled her girlfriend out of the kitchen, their muttering turning into soft giggles. The comment made her laugh more than it stung, but the bubbly sound died when she remembered the ring, the wrong ring. Glancing toward the desks, she caught the small box still in Emily’s hand, casually resting on her lower back as Serena talked and gesticulated heavily – she was still getting used to the concept of Emily not immediately telling someone to shut up for babbling her ears off.
Her gaze switched to the clock on her left, the lunchbreak was ending, and she had a feeling that whatever plans Emily had regarding a proposal would have to be put on hold. Andrea stepped out of the kitchen, doing her best to look nauseous; Serena almost grimaced, Emily simply rolled her eyes, probably thinking her performance deplorable. She rushed out of the office, one hand over her stomach and blood pumping loudly in her ears. Emily’s day was going to be ruined, it was so unfair, but maybe she could look in the cafeteria or maybe in the trash b–
“Andy!” Nigel called when she ran into him, shoulders bumping and a high-pitched yelp following Andrea’s fall. The man was muttering a strand of ‘god, god, god,’ while she hissed and rubbed her ankle. “Get up, girl! No, better, stay down there– I had the ring, Andy, my god.”
Andrea felt the color draining from her face. She quickly caught the velvet box on the polished, decorated hallway floor, open and empty. She scrambled to her knees, hands feeling around the floor as Nigel bent at the waist, adjusting his glasses.
“I’m sorry, love, I–” Emily’s voice approached, and the man hastily fixed his posture, covering the possible sight of a brunette crawling and whispering all kinds of curses known to humankind. The redhead guided Serena by the wrist, exchanging quiet words; Nigel cleared his throat, loudly, stepping towards them before they could turn down the hall.
“Well, how are my lovebirds?” He smiled, kissed Serena on the cheek, and held her manicured hand while she talked about the insane new eyeshadow palette she got to test during rehearsals. He could practically feel Emily’s anxiety like a wave, washing over him and bringing him down. He gave her a quick wink. Emily’s shoulders relaxed. He really hoped the thump he just heard wasn’t Andrea falling again.
“Nigel, we really have to go out for drinks again, I mean it.” Serena said with a charming smile, arms crossed. Nigel laughed, shaking one finger at her.
“That’s a very dangerous request, missy. I don’t think I’m ready to wake up in another city again.” He sighed loudly, looking away from the blue eyes that sparkled beside him. “Oh, but if you insist, who am I to deny you… How do you do it, Emily, really?”
“Oh, no, no. I worked hard to figure it out.” The redhead narrowed her eyes, and Serena couldn’t help but kiss her cheek.
Nigel smiled, and Emily had to look away from both. Just in time for Andrea to walk in, a beaming smile on her face. Nigel exhaled slowly, and noticed Emily do the same. The brunette walked behind the man, passing the ring box to his open palm resting behind his back, before returning to her desk.
“Andy, are you feeling better?” Serena turned her head, and Nigel exchanged boxes with Emily, who mouthed ‘thank you’ with an intense gaze. “I have some pills in my bag, but tea is better, believe me, it’s ó,” she snapped her fingers. “shoot and fall.”
Andrea laughed. Did she know what that meant? Not really, and it didn’t matter, Emily was walking back to the small closet on the corner of the office, Andy just needed the blonde to keep talking. “Well, which one do you recommend?”
“Oh, there’s…” Serena turned and walked up to Emily. The redhead jumped, shoved her hand inside the closet, felt leather, dropped the box in. She only let out a breath when she stepped away and her girlfriend looked inside her own work bag, pulling out small tea sachets along with an abnormal amount of pills.
°
She was relieved, of course. It all could have gone much, much worse, and thanks to Nigel and incredibly, even Andrea, the secret was still a secret. Yet, Emily carried on the rest of the day with a visible heaviness, a sense of failure, an obvious string of frustration wired through her body. Andy didn’t point it out, only offered a sympathetic smile again and again, even Nigel offered some comforting words – ‘all is not lost, you know that. chin up, it was just a slip.’ – which did give Emily enough grace to not break her work desk in half to cope with the irritation.
Miranda walked out of her inner office, hair perfectly fallen in place, checking the time in her watch – for once, leaving before six. The click of her heels stopped when she gazed to the desk on her right. She raised an eyebrow at her first assistant, while the second handed her the black leather bag, same collection as her belt, and draped her coat over her own forearm.
“I’m sorry, Miranda, a lot happened today.” Emily said, looking away for a mere second, down to her own fingers. “There was no reason for me to leave early. But– I’ll still work overtime, the– the request was–”
“Emily,” Miranda seemed to have started ignoring the assistant after the second sentence, checking her clock once more and looking inside her bag. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
The redhead shut her mouth at once, nodding. The heels clacked once more, the keyboards clicked again.
“...Emily.” The editor said, almost in a sigh. The assistant was up at once. Miranda stood in front of the closed doors of the elevator, and her hand emerged from the bag – a small box resting gracefully on her fingers. “I believe this is yours?”
“Oh my god.” She whispered, walking as fast as she could while maintaining a minimum of grace. She took the box, hands trembling slightly, cheeks more than slightly flushed. “Yes, it– thank you, Miranda.”
The editor hummed and put on her sunglasses, stepping inside the empty elevator. “Go home, Emily. Aren’t you late enough?” She said with a tilt of her head, leaving the redhead breathless when the metal doors closed not a second after.
She glanced back at Andrea, who looked just as stunned – but who still couldn’t hold back a snort.
°
“Hey, you’re back early.” Serena smiled against Emily’s neck while she took off her heels and left the jacket by the door. The exhaustion was palpable on her muscles, and melted slowly down her arms under Serena’s gentle squeezing and pulling.
“Yes, I… Should’ve been back earlier.” She huffed, a small frown on her face.
“Oh, no.” The blonde smoothed a thumb over the angry wrinkles forming on her forehead, and Emily closed her eyes. “What was your incredible plan this time and why was I not aware of it, hm?”
The redhead groaned, but made no effort to escape the hug she found herself trapped in. They remained silent, Emily allowing the gentle swaying to sail the resentment away from her mind. Her plan, not incredible as she thought, was ruined. She almost wanted to cry, but not yet – her mascara is not water-proof.
“I made dinner… And there's wine.” Serena muttered against the amber hair. “I know you didn’t have lunch, miss Charlton.” Emily groaned, and the blonde ignored it. She kissed the top of her head, turning back.
Emily held her wrist, eyes sparkling with something of longing and exasperation; the other waited. “Serena… I had made plans for today.”
“And they didn’t work.”
“No.” Emily let go. “Of course not.”
Serena smiled, soft, understanding. Emily swallowed, cleaning an imaginary speck of dust from her skirt.
“Do you still want them to work?” Serena asked, and took the woman’s hand. “Whatever it is, you can do it, of course, but I can help, I’m here.”
Emily wanted to laugh, that woman spoke as if it was the simplest thing in the world – weeks of preparation, of rehearsing what to say, of making sure the weather would be amenable, of planning, scheming, calculating. Emily wasn’t used to ‘simple’ anymore, simple like how Serena laughed at anything, simple like how she was quick to admit mistakes, apologize, change her mind, simple like she held Emily’s hand now, touching like loving, like love is simple.
“Emily?” Serena blinked when Emily sprinted towards the sofa, hand shoved inside her bag with a deep frown. “Querida?” She had something in her hands now, and her back was turned to the blonde but she could still see the deep breaths and small tremble that traveled down Emily’s spine.
“I–” She turned around, hands closed so tightly around the thing, Serena could only see her pale knuckles. “So many things happened today, Serena, you have no idea. I thought I was about to lose my mind.” She stepped forward, fingers still choking the small thing.
“So it wasn't just my impression, you did look like you were about to faint when I got there.” Serena crossed her arms loosely, and Emily huffed at the immediate blush that covered her own face.
“Maybe I did, it's– Whatever!” She took a deep breath. “I wanted everything to be perfect. God, I had… I worked so hard for it.” Her fingers relaxed slightly, but she held her hands close to her own chest; her gaze hesitated on the object she held, a shimmer of amusement dancing behind her eyes.
Serena smiled once again, the golden waves passing over her eyes as she tilted her head. Emily held her breath, her trembling hands sliding away from her chest.
“But it doesn't matter, god, how do you do it?” Emily huffs and shakes her head, the ghost of a smile dancing in her expression. “I had a bloody awful day, but now all I want is to throw it all to the wind and–” she fumbled with the box in her hands, hesitating before finally snapping it open. “Serena, no one makes me feel like this. I don't know if I should be mad at you for having such easy access to me–”
The blonde had already gasped, her eyes glued to the box being presented to her. The twinkle in her eyes mirrored the blue gem that adorned the ring, and she threw her arm around Emily's shoulders before the redhead could even finish her speech.
“Stay here, don't move, I swear to god–” Serena blurted out, already rushing to a nearby drawer. “I– I was actually planning…” She said between chuckles, pulling out a similar box.
“No. Oh my–” Emily couldn't help but laugh as well, turning away from the rosy-cheeked woman, who presented her with a ruby ring. “Get out, Serena, I can't believe it!”
“Emily Charlton…” Serena made it to descend to one knee, but the redhead smacked her arm, still laughing, well aware of the warmth that spread over her face and ears.
Serena took the flushed face in her hands, smiling like the sun. “Marry me.”
Emily sobbed, laughed, nodded. “Yes, you idiot, of course I will!” Her lips were taken in a kiss and she could complain no longer, only sigh and shakily hold the arms that kept her standing.
The redhead slipped the ring on her girlfriend’s – fiancee's – finger with trembling hands, and smiled when she saw the ruby resting on her own. She sank into Serena's embrace, staring and staring at the gem, the light catching in its facets, the promises each of them held. Serena muttered a confession into Emily's hair, and she closed her eyes while listening.
“Now…” Serena said, pulling away after the excitement settled into comfortable silence. “Will you tell me why I saw Andy crawling in the hallway earlier?”
“God.” Emily groaned, and decided that she would actually need that wine before she relived the misfortunes of the day.
°