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Her daughters, the only thing she would put first before Runway. They grew up so fast... and she missed so much of their lives when they were kids. Now they have their own families, own careers, own hectic schedules, but luckily they visit her quite often. More often than not, one at a time. Cassidy usually flies from LA to New York to spend a week or two with her mother in late September. Why? Who knows, she just picked the time frame and stuck to it. Caroline is different. She travels a lot, through the US, through Europe and Asia, but for whatever reason the girl particularly loves New Zealand. She visits her mom for a weekend and not an hour longer a few times a year. Every time they visit, every time they talk, Miranda can't help but feel overjoyed and proud. Her daughters are smart, confident, cunning, elegant and witty. Her daughters are serious, professional people. Occasionally she even finds herself asking for their advice.
This time they visited her together, something about "supporting her through another divorce" - as if she cared. And once her twins are together... oh god.
"It's the eternal question, Cass, like, is Die Hard a Christmas movie or who's better, Jordan or LeBron!" The girls walked into the kitchen. Caroline poured herself some coffee and then tossed another mug in Cassidy's direction.
"Do you think anyone other than straight men cares about this?" Cassidy took a sip and sat at the table.
"I don't know, maybe lesbians. But I am not sure. We should ask!" They looked at each other and turned their faces to Miranda, who tried to read her morning paper in peace.
"Mom, isn't that hot assistant you had a lesbian?" Miranda got an inkling that today the side dish for her breakfast would be a skull-crushing migraine - her daughters' signature!
"I don't know and I wouldn't dare to ask, I don't want to have a two-hour lecture from the HR department again." She took a sip of her own coffee and put her newspaper to the side. She took a deep breath in. She knew she would regret asking this, but she had nothing to lose. "What is that eternal question you are talking about?"
"Tits or ass?"
Miranda didn't dignify that question with any type of an answer and just left for work. She had important things to do.
Like finding Andrea and scolding her once again for low traction numbers on their - her - articles.
Andrea was working in all positions, standing, sitting, lying in bed, but her favorite one was bent over the desk, with a pen in her mouth and fingers angrily clicking the keyboard.
And that was the position she had chosen to work in this morning. So, naturally, when Miranda opened the door the first thing her eyes fell on was Andrea's behind. Hearing that someone entered her office, Andy looked over her shoulder first and only after noticing who entered the office, she got straight on her feet.
"Oh, good morning, Miranda! Anything I can do for you?" Andy was more confident around Miranda after the whole Milan thing, her voice didn't have even a hint of the nervous squeak she used to have previously. And after a moment of hesitation, Miranda cleared her throat.
"We have to look through your ideas for next month's issues, your current proposals are unacceptable. In my office, in an hour," Miranda turned to leave.
Fuck, that's not why I came here in the first place.
"Okay, but we're still getting lunch today together, right?"
Miranda was already out of the doors, but answered. "Yes. And turn on the AC, it's so hot in here, no doubt your melted brain can't produce a single decent thought."
Andy looked at the AC, it was on and set to seventy degrees.
There were a couple of things that Andy kept as a part of her throughout the years: her megawatt smile, kind heart, her chatty nature, eyebrows - whatever was wrong with them, she couldn't understand - and her clumsiness. Andrea Sachs was clumsy from the day she was born and up to her age of forty-four.
"Oopsie!" Andrea dropped her papers the moment she stepped out of Miranda's office. Miranda, of course, was right behind her. As Andy bend over to pick up papers, Miranda's eyes were glued to Andrea's hips.
Amari, who was already not the assistant but happened to be nearby, suspiciously faked a cough near Miranda. When Miranda looked up at her former assistant, Amari shook her head "no".
What the hell? What did I do wrong now?
"What? Should I have kicked her?" She hissed to Amari, but Amari just rolled her eyes.
The ride back from the YSL office had been quiet in a pleasant way. Miranda was buzzing with quiet joy, Andrea with not so quiet and Nigel was already thinking about how they'll spend the new investment they got. Almost double of what was previously promised. All Andrea's work. Miranda couldn't help but smirk when executives started getting hypnotized more and more while Andrea was shooting them with promises of big numbers, and words like "agency", "integrity", and "identity-based consumerism habits". The car pulled up right near the Elias-Clark building. Nigel and Miranda, being elegance itself, gracefully got out of it and started talking business already.
"Nigel, do something with the accessory department, if I see another cliché stolen from Elle, I'll get sick."
"Of course, Miranda," Nigel looked over to the car and noticed Andrea, one leg out of the car, but the rest of her still in, as if she was already out but remembered that she dropped something on the floor. "Are you alright in there, Six?"
"Oh yeah, just my sunglasses fell off, looking for them." Miranda also turned around to look at Andrea. Nigel cleared his throat. Miranda kept looking, but started talking again.
"And tell them that I would love to see... more curves, the lines need to be tighter." She kept looking until Andrea finally got out of the car. The three of them kept walking into the building. Nigel leaned in closer to Miranda.
"It’s the tailoring that really won them over, don't you think? Such a firm, well-rounded argument Andrea presented. I noticed you couldn't take your eyes off the... bottom line."
Miranda threw at him her famous stare, but he just chuckled and whispered.
"If you want to appreciate the curve again, I allowed Six to borrow the boots from the Closet, she'll pick them up before leaving," and before he turned to his office he added, "and I might have put them on the lowest shelf."
And damn sure Miranda walked in there the minute after Andy closed the door to her office - just to check if the model didn't ruin the Valentino shirt with her make-up during the photoshoot, of course. Why would there be any other reason?
Many days, and many days of ass-gazing situations after, Miranda was having a hard time concentrating on the new layout suggestion from Nigel. Reason? Tight pencil skirt from Dior, Andrea was wearing today. And to make things worse, the air conditioning actually was broken. She undid another button on her silk blouse.
"Hi!" Andrea's bright smile and cheerful voice always entered any room before her legs. She came to Miranda's desk. "I got a few fresh drafts here," she started to take out one of the papers out of the binder in her hands, "this one might be a good commentary on accessories for this issue and..." and she trailed off.
Miranda waited for a moment, then raised her eyebrow. Andrea was standing there mid-motion, blush creeping down her neck. Miranda followed Andrea's gaze.
Oh
Andy's big puppy eyes were shooting straight into her cleavage.
"And, Andrea?" she smirked.
Andy nervously cleared her throat and gave all the papers to Miranda in one go.
"And-and-and others are..." Andrea blushed even more, she took a step back, "others are, well, once you read them you'll figure out where and how to use them." Andy turned around and left.
Miranda opened the binder and smiled to herself. We can work with that
One Year After.
"Okay guys, I gotta head out already, Nigel would be moody if I am late even by ten minutes," Andy took her dish and coffee cup to the dishwasher.
"Say hi to him from me and Cass." Caroline took herself another pancake and poured Cassidy more coffee. Cassidy definitely inherited Miranda's caffeine addiction
"Of course!" As Andy bent over to put things into the dishwasher, Miranda's gaze subconsciously followed.
In a minute Andrea left the house, promising to bring Chinese take-out for dinner. The moment the door got closed, the twins turned to their mum.
"So, what's your answer to this eternal question? And what's Andy's?"
Miranda put her cup down.
"That is an aggressively vulgar thing to ask your mother, and it is completely none of your business," Miranda scolded, though the corner of her mouth twitched. And after a moment murmured. "Ass is the only right answer, but that ridiculous girl as always disagrees with me. Can't blame her, really - I do have spectacular tits "