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At her age, Miranda’s days were mostly the same. The minutiae of them changed from day to day, of course, but the core stayed identical; work, more work, sleep, repeat. Her assistants changed, but all were equally forgettable. There was nothing that could have surprised her anymore.
Nothing, except for seeing her second assistant kiss her first assistant out of the blue.
The sight made something twist in Miranda’s gut, some small flutter of annoyance, or maybe even anger, because why were they doing that during work hours? Miranda had no issue with two women being together, naturally, but exchanging saliva right where she could see it was, well. Unthinkable.
That must’ve been that, clearly. Just the fact that what they were doing was out of place.
“Emily,” laughed Andrea, pushing Emily away from herself. “Come on, we have work to do.”
“No one cares,” Emily muttered, leaning over to kiss Andrea again. Miranda didn’t like the sight. Not at all. “There’s no one—oh, hi, Serena!”
Miranda kept her eyes on the photos from the recent Valentino photo shoot, allowing herself to steal fleeting glances at them only.
“Emily,” Serena greeted her. “Andy.”
“Hi, Serena!” Andrea chirped. “We were just dealing with your upcoming photo shoot, wanna know the details?”
Why on Earth was Andrea so sweet with everyone?
“I just came to steal Emily for lunch.”
“Oh!” Andrea looked up from the computer. “Well, don’t let her eat too much,” she said sweetly. Miranda could hear the smile in her voice. “We’re going to Smith & Wollensky after work and I’d rather have her enjoying her meal there.”
“You’re going out.”
“Yes.”
“With Emily.”
“Yes.” Emily this time, more bored. “That’s what people usually do when they are dating.”
Oh, God, they were dating.
“You’re dating.”
“We are!” Andrea beamed at her. “Isn’t that just wonderful?”
“Yeah,” Serena confirmed weakly. “Wonderful.”
It was not wonderful. Workplace relationships, two of her assistants, and at Runway on top of all this, was a recipe for disaster. A very big, very exploding disaster, when they finally broke up, Emily’s impulsiveness colliding with Andrea’s lack of thick skin.
It was going to be a disaster, and thus Miranda had to stop her assistants before they went further. Out of professional concern, of course. No other reason.
The way Miranda couldn’t focus on anything else for the remainder of the day was unrelated entirely.
Miranda, stupidly, decided that she had to oversee Serena’s newest photo shoot. The girl had some modelling background, apparently, but Miranda wasn’t going to invest in her until she saw her at work. Being exceptional at it, too. Miranda approved excellence only.
The photo shoot happened on Sunday, so that Miranda could focus on it entirely without Runway’s current issues hanging over her head. She took Andrea with herself—incidentally, of course, to give Emily a day off—and so the girl was standing behind Miranda as the photographers and the models filtered in.
The photographers, the models, and Emily, who crossed the distance in a few quick strides with an, “Andy!” on her lips and pulled Andrea into a kiss.
The walls suddenly seemed really interesting.
Andrea returned the kiss, if one were to judge from the sounds. “You’re here!” she laughed, pulling back to look at Emily with a smile. “Why didn’t you tell me anything?”
“It was a last minute decision, Serena asked for me to come and—”
“Andrea,” Miranda interrupted them, pushing as much coldness into her tone as she could manage. “You’re at work. Control yourself.”
“Sorry, Miranda,” Andrea muttered, though she didn’t look embarrassed at all. “We’ll meet afterwards? There’s this new coffee shop I wanted to try out, I think we could—”
“Andrea.”
“I’ll leave you alone, then,” immediately said Emily, placing a quick kiss on Andrea’s cheek. “Have fun, babe.”
Fucking babe?
Andrea wiggled her fingers at her as she walked away, and then turned to look at Miranda. “So,” she asked, completely unaware of Miranda’s displeasure, “what am I here for?”
So that Miranda could keep her away from Emily, which clearly didn’t work out.
“So that you can be quiet, observe the work, and be useful when I need you,” she said flatly, watching how Andrea immediately deflated.
“Oh.” Andrea looked sad, which Miranda dutifully ignored, walking towards the photographers. Andrea followed, silent at last, and Miranda found herself stupidly missing her ramblings already.
“We’re aiming for seeing if Serena has any true potential,” she told the men—three of them, each with a different style to see where Serena shined the most— her mind back at work and at work only. “Feel free to push her. If she has as much talent as she seems to think, we’re going to have another golden girl on our hands.”
They nodded, some variations of yes, Miranda and of course falling from their lips, not wasting another second before moving to work. Serena was already standing in front of the backdrop, ramrod straight and focused even under Miranda’s piercing gaze.
Soon, it became clear that she was good; better than anyone could have expected, really, because why did the photographer who had discovered her just let her go? It made no sense for her to be working primarily in Runway’s offices instead of on a runway, really, with how naturally talented she was, how photogenic.
“Miranda,” Emily came to them, standing just next to Andrea, close enough that their shoulders were touching. “I just got a call from Karl—”
“Not now,” Miranda interrupted her harshly, keeping her eyes fixed on Serena. She did not need to see the way Andrea immediately grew softer around Emily, some of the tension evaporating from her shoulders. “You’re not at work right now. I don’t want to hear anything about it from you.”
“Of course, Miranda.”
Emily pressed a kiss against Andrea’s shoulder, whispering something too quiet for Miranda to hear, and walked away. Andrea smiled for a fleeting moment, before she schooled her face back into that look of careful neutrality that Miranda was beginning to hate.
The lipstick mark from Emily’s lips was mocking Miranda for the remainder of the session. Hell, it seemed even worse when Emily circled back to them, smiling at Andrea as she came closer. “I brought you food, babe,” she said, pressing a protein bar into her hands. “I don’t know why you insist on carbs, this thing is full of it, but—here.”
“Thank you!” Andrea beamed at her, fingers already yanking the foil open. “You’re the best, really,” she added, taking a bite. She closed her eyes, letting out a sound Miranda definitely wasn’t focusing on, and groaned, “God, I was starving.”
“You usually are,” Emily snorted, but it didn’t sound like her usual unpleasantries. More as if she was genuinely taken with Andrea, which was absurd, because who would ever be taken with her?
Definitely not Miranda.
Andrea opened one eye, looking at Emily with suspicion. “You’re sure you’re not hungry?” she asked, offering the bar to her. “You did eat a breakfast, right? We had such a fun night together, it’s important to restore your energy afterwards, you know.”
A few steps away from them, Serena choked on the water she was drinking.
Emily huffed, but leaned to take a bite from Andrea’s extended hand. Miranda forced herself to focus on the photos the photographers were going through and not on the way Emily’s lips grazed Andrea’s fingers. There was nothing interesting about that.
It wasn’t long before they moved on to more intimate shots and, well. Emily, for how lucky she was with dating Andrea, seemed impossibly dumb with how little she cared about keeping their relationship. It was painful to witness, really, the way she was all sweet with Andrea, only to glue her eyes to Serena’s body the moment she dressed down to just lingerie.
Serena was beautiful, of course—Miranda could admit that, intellectually, in the way one would admire a master painter’s painting. Pretty, perfectly thin, and so incredibly dull.
Emily seemed taken with her, though. It made sense, Miranda supposed; the girl kept wanting to be thinner, and Serena was epitome of thinness. Emily’s gaze was not just purely clinical, though, not even jealous; there was something else painted across her features, something that Miranda didn’t enjoy seeing on Andrea’s partner’s face.
To have Andrea and still look after other women… One had to be an idiot. There was no other explanation. If Miranda were the one to have Andrea, she would never dared to look at anyone else. How could she?
“She’s pretty,” she muttered to nobody in particular. Next to her, Andrea jerked, turning around to look at Miranda.
“Emily?”
God help her.
“Serena,” she corrected, her voice flat. She couldn't understand how Andrea wasn’t seeing what was happening.
“Oh,” Andrea breathed, nodding eagerly. “Yes, she’s very pretty, isn’t she? She’s also size zero-zero, can you imagine?”
Miranda very easily could, but the fact that Andrea seemed so excited talking about being so thin seemed… concerning.
“You’re not that size,” Miranda noticed, stupidly.
Andrea’s expression immediately shuttered, just as Miranda realised her mistake. “I am aware I don’t fit into this picture of your perfect assistant, thank you very much.”
“That was not—”
“You can get Serena to be your second assistant if what you care about is looks,” Andrea said slowly. Her voice was low, tightly controlled, and Miranda with horror realised that Andrea’s eyes were slightly more red than usually. “I’m sure the whole office will be pleased to get rid of—what did you call me? Smart, fat girl?”
“That’s not what I meant, Andrea.”
Andrea shrugged, eyes fixed on something in the distance. “It’s fine. I know how I compare.”
But she didn’t, clearly, because if she did, she’d know she was the most beautiful person present in the room.
Objectively.
Emily cast a glance at them, clearly noticing something about Andrea that made her frown. She walked over to them immediately, casting a smile at Andrea. “Serena’s so pretty,” she noticed smoothly, wrapping her arms around her. “But you’re the prettiest, you know that?”
Andrea squirmed in Emily’s embrace, trying to turn around in it; Emily held her tighter, kissing her on her temple, and then on her cheek. “You’re the most perfect, the most beautiful—” another kiss on Andrea's cheek, “person I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing.”
Andrea flushed bright red, turning around in Emily’s arms to hide her face in her neck. “Emily!” she giggled, muffled with Emily’s skin. “Not in public!”
“Why not, babe?”
“Because I’m at work, and if you continue this, I’m gonna—” Andrea’s eyes flickered up, right to Miranda’s face, and then quickly away. “Because I’m at work.”
“But you’re going to finish soon,” Emily countered. Miranda’s fingers twitched at her side; why was she so nice with Andrea now, having been so taken with Serena before? Why wasn’t Andrea noticing any of that, utterly focused on the moments when Emily was nice with her?
“We’re going to finish soon,” Andrea confirmed, “and then we’ll go back home together, and you’ll show me exactly how beautiful you find my—me. Deal?”
Emily kissed her instead of answering, slow and gentle. Andrea’s lashes fluttered close, making Miranda feel like she was intruding on them, even if it was their decision entirely to behave so improperly in public.
Serena was staring, too, almost annoyed with the scene Andrea and Emily were making.
So unprofessional.
Miranda walked to their desks the next day—which was something she never did.
“Andrea, Emily,” she started coolly. Andrea’s eyes snapped to hers, wide and brown and pretty, confirming Miranda’s decision to break them up. “The employees of Runway working together as assistants are forbidden from entering a relationship with one another.”
They were, as of Sunday’s evening, when Miranda’s lawyers made the change and implemented it immediately. Regarding only Elias-Clarke Runway’s office in New York, but that was more than enough for what Miranda needed.
Emily scrambled to get up, walking to them immediately and leaving Serena perched alone on her desk. “I’m so sorry, Miranda,” she started, all of her focus on Miranda and not on whatever conversation she was having with Serena moments before. “I wasn’t aware of this fact—”
“That’s alright!” Andrea interrupted her, smiling at Miranda, and then at Emily. “We can just both resign, right, Emily?”
The words hit like a slap.
“Excuse me?” Miranda asked before she could stop herself, disbelief colouring her words. That wasn’t what she intended to do. Andrea was supposed to back off, desperate with keeping her job, not jump straight to the worst possible decision.
Emily’s brows furrowed for the whole of four seconds, before Andrea tilted her head. “We can both resign, right?” she asked again, more insistent.
“Yeah,” finally confirmed Emily, casting a quick glance to the side. “If the—if the fact that we’re together is a problem, we will just both resign.”
“Love is so much better than some work, am I right?” Andrea added. There was something weird in her tone; it was too excited and too oblivious all at once, and it grated against Miranda’s nerves terribly. “I can work wherever as long as I’m with you, Emily.”
Serena stood up from Emily’s desk, walking out of the room without a word, her face schooled into cool neutrality. Andrea’s eyes followed her, shining, and then moved back to Miranda. “So,” she asked sweetly, “are you going to look for two new assistants, or are we staying?”
Miranda wasn’t proud with how long it took to gather her thoughts.
“You can stay,” she forced out through gritted teeth. “But if I see you two kissing again, you’re fired.”
It was just a matter of professionalism, she told herself, walking back to her desk. Her heels were silent on the carpet; one thing less to annoy her.
She simply wanted Andrea to behave professionally around Miranda. That was it. Just Miranda, expecting utmost professionalism from her assistants. No distractions in the form of kissing sounds, or visuals, or Miranda mulling over whether Andrea’s lips were as soft as they looked.
Just a professional concern.
Andrea stopped kissing Emily in their office. That, Miranda could give her.
What she did not stop was being constantly, insufferably in love with her.
“Emily, sweetheart, there’s an issue with the Lauren meeting,” said in the most saccharine way possible.
“We totally should check out this new place in the Fifth, you know? I’ve heard they have the best ramen in the world,” muttered exactly when Miranda was trying to focus on her own work, staring at it with unblinking eyes.
“Are you in the mood for anything tonight?”
This one made Miranda stand up from her desk and escape to the attached bathroom, where she closed her eyes and just breathed deeply. In and out. She could do this. Andrea was just an employee.
Except that she was not, because every time Miranda saw her being all sweet-mouthed with Emily, all she could think about was how easy it would have been to come up with a reason to fire Emily and have Andrea all for herself, with no girlfriend in sight.
Sweet, oblivious Andrea, who was staring at Miranda with wide eyes, confusion painted all across her features as she stood in the doorframe, in a pretty brown suit with a pretty brown tie that was making it even harder to keep her expression stern.
“Close the door,” Miranda told her coldly, jutting a chin in her direction. Andrea obeyed before slowly walking up to Miranda’s desk, twisting her fingers. “Nigel said he saw you kissing Emily in the hallway.”
Was she really this far gone to make even that a problem?
“You said you don’t want to see us kissing,” Andrea protested. “You did not.”
“But you kissed,” Miranda countered. Her cheeks and ears felt warm—not hot, not yet, but they were surely going to do that soon, if this idiotic situation was going to continue. “I said no kissing.”
“No kissing where you can see us,” Andrea repeated. “Why are you having issues with that, Miranda? A lot of people are in relationships here. A lot of them kiss. So why are you so pent up about—”
“You’re doing this on purpose,” Miranda interrupted her, realising all at once what felt off about this whole relationship thing of theirs. “Emily didn’t even like you, and now you two are acting like lovebirds all of a sudden, no reason at all, no build up. And Emily is never this sweet with anyone. Thus, you’re doing this deliberately.”
Andrea’s turn to be surprised, with the way she huffed out a breath. “Well, of course,” she bit out, shaking her head, brows furrowed in confusion. “Emily asked me to pretend I’m dating her to make Serena jealous, and I, as a good friend—oh.” She stopped, a half-choked gasp escaping her lips. Something changed in her expression, realisation dawning as her eyes grew wide and surprised and beautiful. “Don’t tell me you also got jealous?”
Miranda clenched her jaw, moving her eyes to somewhere above Andrea’s shoulder. The glass door behind her had a smudge on it; it grated against Miranda’s nerves, somehow more important than the woman standing in front of her.
“You’re jealous,” Andrea repeated, wonder tinting her voice. She walked around the desk—something no assistant has ever dared to do before—standing next to Miranda’s chair, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet Andrea’s eyes. “The great Miranda Priestly, jealous over her little nobody assistant.”
“I am not jealous.” Miranda stood up to meet Andrea’s eyes head-on. The fact that it also put them very, very close to each other wasn’t going to cause anything. Not at all. “I don’t care what you do in your free time, or with whom, and most definitely not why. I am not—”
“That’s alright, Miranda,” Andrea interrupted her. Her eyes flickered to Miranda’s lips, and then back up. “You can be—I like that you’re jealous over me. Makes a girl feel wanted.”
“Not jealous.” It sounded weak even to her own ears, but Andrea only laughed, taking a microscopic step closer. She lifted her hand, slowly putting it on Miranda’s face, gentle as if Miranda were a wild animal that needed careful handling.
“You can be not jealous with me, then,” she whispered, eyes searching Miranda’s face, wide with something like wonder. “May I—” Her tongue moved over her lips, teeth worrying the skin. “I really, really want to kiss you right now.”
That was all the permission Miranda needed; her fingers tangled themselves in Andrea’s hair, her other hand wandering to her back, pulling Andrea close to her body, and then she was kissing her with no control at all.
Andrea gasped against Miranda’s lips, her eyes fluttering closed as she let Miranda’s tongue in. She tasted like sugar and happiness and Miranda for a moment let herself enjoy the moment, with Andrea’s warm body under her fingers, trembling and hers at last. Not Emily’s. Not anyone’s. Miranda’s.
“You really should’ve gone on with this whole farce quicker,” she gasped when they broke off. Andrea giggled, high and breathless, and kissed Miranda again, and then again, fingers tracing Miranda’s cheeks. She was faintly aware of her lipstick getting smudged under Andrea’s greedy lips, not to mention that the door to her office was glass and anyone could look in to see them, but it all paled with the fact that she had Andrea all for herself, kissing her with way more passion than she ever kissed Emily.
A part of her mind briefly wondered where had she learned to kiss so well, then, who was allowed the privilege of being Andrea’s before Miranda, but she pushed it away. She had her now, and that was not going to change. Definitely not if Andrea kept on making these small, needy sounds that went straight to Miranda’s core.
Andrea put her forehead against Miranda’s at last, her ragged breath tickling Miranda’s face. “You know,” she choked out, low and triumphant, “I really hope that Editor-in-Chief-and-assistant relationships aren’t forbidden here.”
Miranda huffed, sitting back down. “As if you’d care if they were,” she muttered, pulling Andrea down into her lap. She went without a fuss, nuzzling into Miranda’s body immediately and oh, Miranda had no clue Andrea was this clingy, but she was going to gladly provide for her.
Anything she wanted.