Part 7
Bouts of Fallibility
Miranda watched Andrea walk out of her office feeling somewhat proud of the younger woman. She had no difficulty in seeing through Andrea's manufactured hardened veneer straight to the terrified woman underneath. Andrea had pulled herself together well, the coffee had been a nice touch, but Andrea hadn't managed to fool Miranda for a single moment. The invitation to a celebratory lunch had been unexpected and, Miranda could admit, amusing if not incredibly presumptuous.
Andrea would never know of course, but Miranda could not recall being as brave when she first stepped out of her comfort zone to demand a promotion. Miranda remembered entering her editor's office with weak knees and barely controlled shaking hands. She had marched into his office with their latest layout and called it absolute trash. She accused the woman in charge of the layout of creative retardation, and then threw on her editor's desk her own mock up. He had glanced over it and then promoted her. It was the worst decision he had ever made since within two years she had ousted him from his job, but it was one of Miranda's earliest victories.
Miranda had ungraciously accepted her promotion, and then fled his office to find the nearest restroom where she threw up the saltines she had eaten for lunch. She later had to deal with rumors of pregnancy, but those died down once everyone had realized Miranda Priestly was going to eventually become their boss. That was when the rumors of her eating live babies for lunch began floating around, rumors she didn't bother to dispel, and then she started catching the attention of the execs over at
Runway. The rest, as the cliché went, was history.
Blue eye followed Andrea as the young woman marched away. Miranda gave Andrea credit for not tripping over her own pride. Miranda knew that eventually Andrea would get over herself and realize the importance of getting paid before making a self-satisfied exit. That silly girl still did have a lot to learn. She hadn't even bothered to stay and negotiate payment. Miranda considered sending the girl a check for a dollar, but knew that Andrea would at some point need to eat.
"Emily." Miranda picked up Andrea's article and impatiently waited for her assistant to appear in front of her. As soon as Emily walked in, she handed over Andrea's work. "Take this to Nigel and inform him he needs to pull that dreadful piece and replace it with this. Then, go and ask Jocelyn if she ever wants to bother to stop talking about that child of hers long enough to find me something I can actually use..." She continued her rapid instructions her brain already moving on to another problem from the mountain of problems she was handed on a daily basis.
She dismissed Emily and then had Missouri, her dreadfully named and useless second assistant, call Roy. She had a meeting with Valentino and was already running late since Andrea had decided to drop in as if she had a free pass to bother Miranda whenever she liked. The girl was beginning to form some unfortunate habits that would eventually have to be dealt with. People couldn't go around thinking that Andrea was receiving any type of special treatment. It was important the recognition of Andrea's talent grew away from Miranda's shadow, otherwise Andrea would be dismissed and her work tainted.
Miranda stepped away from her desk and then made her hurried exit from
Runway. When she stepped out of the elevator she was already on her cell phone giving Emily orders for her return. She ignored Nigel's call since he was no doubt wondering why an article by Andrea Sachs had appeared on his desk. Miranda was in no mood to explain her decisions to him nor was she in the mood to explain herself to anyone else. She hadn't come up with an explanation, as of yet, that seemed at all believable.
She stepped out of Elias-Clarke, hardly making the effort to notice that Missouri was trotting along after her. What Miranda did notice, was Andrea standing still in a crowd of people hurrying about to accomplish their menial tasks. For having just accomplished writing an impressive article, Miranda could clearly see that Andrea didn't look all that happy. She looked more like a pathetic lost melancholic child who had just been let in on the secret that the Grinch really had stolen Christmas. Whoever it was Andrea was talking to on the phone, they didn't seem to be doing much to raise Andrea's spirits.
Andrea had already learned the price for success and had previously denied payment. Miranda could see that the lesson was once again asserting itself into Andrea's reality, except this time Miranda would not watch Andrea walk away back into the dark clouds of inferiority. Andrea would just have to find a way to deal with her personal life. She'd have to find a way to push her personal feelings and attachments away; Miranda had.
She met Andrea's eyes as the younger woman's brown eyes locked onto the editor. Miranda silently asserted her personal will upon the silly girl. If Miranda could kill off the absurd bits of emotion she felt for Andrea then Andrea could very well hang up the phone on whoever had her looking so pathetically unhappy. Once satisfied that Andrea was suitably distracted from whoever it was she was talking to, Miranda stepped into the waiting car. Missouri shut the car door behind her, and Miranda was effectively cut off from Andrea's gaze.
Missouri dropped into the seat next to her like an uncoordinated cow, and then Roy pulled away from Elias-Clarke. Miranda tried not to focus on Missouri's noisy breathing that confirmed Missouri was indeed descendent of bovine. Emily had made an almost unforgivable mistake in recommending the girl for position as second assistant. Emily had made very poor decisions of late when it came to the quality of assistants she had been hiring.
Miranda had known that Emily wasn't the smartest girl in the world, but she had hoped Emily would learn that the circumstance that had arisen when Andrea was promoted over her was an anomaly. Miranda realized that Emily was so petrified of having her position usurped again that she chose girls with names like Missouri to be second assistant; she chose girls that would have perhaps been better suited for pole dancing instead of high end fashion.
As the car stopped at a red light, Miranda ran her eyes across Missouri. She no longer felt the need to keep her second assistant around. "I've decided I am no longer in need of your services."
"What?" Missouri asked wide-eyed.
Miranda rolled her eyes. "Did I stutter? You're fired, effectively immediately of course. When you get back to
Runway, make sure you tell Emily that if she hires anyone else resembling bovine she'll be fired. That's all." She turned her attention back to her window. She had no intention of hearing whatever pleas Missouri would make to keep her job, and felt no need to watch Missouri stumble out of the car.
Missouri would make her way back to the office and would take care of any office gossip that was going on about Andrea Sachs's article being published. By the time Miranda returned from her meetings, everyone would have heard about Missouri being fired and how Miranda kicked her out of the car in the middle of traffic. It was a first for Miranda, but it would serve well as a distraction from the uncharacteristic attention she was giving to Andrea.
If Andrea continued to visit her home in the middle of the night and barge into the office then Miranda might have to consider firing Jocelyn or even Nigel. For now, Missouri going the way of so many pathetic assistants before her would do enough to settle any talk. She was going to be another in the long line of sacrifices Miranda would have to make so that Andrea could become a success.
****
Miranda walked into
Runway, well aware of the heightened energy that had developed since she left. Everyone probably had some ridiculous notion that she was in a particularly bad mood over something completely manufactured. It hadn't been all that bad of day. Miranda felt a lot better than she had in a while, but no one needed to know that. It was in everyone's best interest that staff assumed they correctly read Miranda's moods. It gave them a sense of consistency and control, while it gave Miranda room for bouts of fallibility.
Emily, of course, said nothing about Missouri and neither did anyone else. Miranda went through the rest of her day, practically able to smell the fear being excreted from her staff. She was preparing to leave for the night when Nigel came uninvited into her office. He had become much bolder since she had crushed his dreams in Paris. It was over a year later and he was still upset about it, but wasn't man enough to confront her about the pain she had caused him. He simply went into passive aggressive fits that could, at times, be a little more than a minor nuisance.
Nigel was good as his job, very close to the best Miranda had ever seen, but she still questioned whether he had what it took to handle their world all on his own. She had put him up for the James Holt position, hoping it would give him a chance to succeed without her influence guiding him, but Miranda had been forced into making other arrangements. She was still actively looking for a position that would suit him, but none had arisen. As a small act of compensation, she had given him a significant raise. He had not been entirely ungrateful.
"Andrea Sachs, Miranda, really?"
He had been upset when he found out Andrea had left Miranda in Paris. He had admitted to regretting putting so much effort in helping the girl that had simply walked away. Personally, Miranda thought Nigel was just upset that Andrea had the strength to walk away and that he hadn't.
"Why are you assuming this is a topic up for discussion?"
Nigel looked almost hurt by her curt response. "I just wanted to make sure Emily hadn't made a mistake."
"Take care of it, Nigel." Miranda ordered and then walked past him. He had rightfully confronted her, she would have questioned his capabilities if he hadn't, but she couldn't let him know that. Everyone had to believe that she knew she was making the right choice by welcoming Andrea back to
Runway.
Miranda walked out of the building, and turned off her phone before she got into the car that would take her home. She couldn't remember the last time she had turned off her cell phone, but she didn't feel like dealing with
Runway. For some reason, she wanted to give herself time to sit and think. When she arrived at her home, she turned her cell phone back on. She was expecting a call from her girls who were on summer vacation with their father on some island with his new fiancée.
Eventually, Miranda walked to her study, a glass of red wine in hand, and then sat down her attention focused out the window. For some reason, she couldn't get the image of Andrea's unhappiness out of her mind. Andrea might not remember having said it, but Miranda remembered Andrea's confession of having chased after something that wouldn't make her happy. Miranda did not presume to know what happiness was.
All she had ever wanted was success and accomplishment. Miranda had given up pursuing happiness when she was a young woman and realized it was necessary that her happiness become expendable. She no longer chased after things that would make her happy. She didn't wish to waste the energy. She would do everything within her power to make her girls happy, she would do everything she could to continue her reign of success and was determined to be content with her professional life.
But Andrea, Miranda silently laughed, Andrea still was acting out her inalienable right to pursue happiness, and the silly girl thought she'd find it at the end of her proverbial pen. Miranda knew that she could not give Andrea happiness. Andrea would have to find happiness on her own. Perhaps, whoever Andrea had been on the phone with could find a way to help Andrea become happy, because Miranda refused to feel any regret about not rejecting Andrea when the girl came back around demanding another chance. Miranda had given Andrea a chance to choose, and Andrea had chosen to come back. Happiness no longer had anything to do with it.
Miranda sat, sipping on her wine. She heard Emily come into the house to deliver the dry cleaning and the Book, and then quickly leave. Miranda poured herself another glass and then got up to retrieve the Book. She took it back to her study and silently looked over it. She had gone through half the bottle of her Pinot Noir by the time she was finished with her work.
She gathered up her glass, closed the Book, and then walked out of her study. She didn't feel like sleeping. Instead of rest, she chose to walk around her home. She walked into Caroline's room, and sat down on her daughter's empty bed. The house felt emptier without her girls, and she found that she missed their presence even though she had so often chosen her work over spending time with them. At times, Miranda wondered if her girls chose to live with her simply because they were afraid to leave her alone. They always seemed to have enjoyed their father's company over hers, although they detested his new fiancée to the point of trying to break up the engagement.
Recently, there had been too much upheaval in the girls' lives, and Miranda wished she could have talked her ex-husband into postponing his engagement, but he hadn't listened to her requests. He was as unwilling to compromise as he had been when they were married. He didn't understand sacrifice; at least not like Miranda understood it. This summer vacation had been his idea, and Miranda had done her best to talk the girls into giving their father's fiancée, Rayne, a chance. They had promised to try, but so far they seemed entirely miserable and were doing their best to talk Miranda into ending their vacation early.
Miranda looked down into her empty wine glass, and then to the empty room. There was nothing she could do about filling the empty space, but she did have more wine. She stood up, and then walked out of her daughter's room, softly shutting the door behind her but leaving the light on. She walked downstairs and as she passed the front door, she saw a shadow lingering outside of it.
"I'm going to start assuming you've decided to stalk me." Miranda wasn't surprised to see Andrea standing at her doorstep. She walked away from her open door, fully expecting that Andrea would follow her inside. She went back into her study, where she had left her wine bottle. She filled her glass and then pulled out another and filled it as well.
"How do you do it, Miranda?" Andrea had silently followed Miranda. "How do you deal with everyone leaving?"
Miranda handed Andrea the glass of wine she had just poured. "I don't."
Andrea wordlessly accepted the glass. "Nate's said that I'm changing. He thought, before, that I was turning into someone else."
"Nate?" Miranda picked up her own glass.
Andrea looked down into the dark liquid below her. "My boyfriend."
Miranda took a sip of her wine. She wasn't sure she was suitably intoxicated yet to have this conversation. She had only been intoxicated enough to make the mistake of letting Andrea into her home. "I take it he doesn't agree with your recent choices."
"He's upset and he probably has a right to be." Andrea took a large gulp from her wine. "I'm making these huge decisions and I'm not talking to him about any of it."
"Mm." Miranda took another sip of her wine.
"And I know I should include him in my life more, but he lives in Boston." Andrea took another large gulp, not at all taking a chance to savor the taste of the very expensive Pinot Noir. She drank more like she was having some common beer instead of a fine wine. "He's the one that moved away. I never wanted to live in Boston."
"Of course." Miranda was certain she had reached the limit of alcohol she could safely consume since she was willingly listening to Andrea ramble on about her personal relationship. She couldn't exactly remember the last time anyone had confessed to her their relationship troubles.
"And I'm just so frustrated because I feel like I'm doing everything I can to stay with him, and," Andrea stumbled over her words as she blinked away the tears that had clearly been forming. "And I'm not even sure I love him anymore."
"One does not fall blindly out of love, Andrea." Miranda laid her glass down. "You do not simply wake up one morning no longer in love with the person you share a bed with. If you believe you no longer love him, then you don't." Miranda knew very little about happiness, but she did understand love. She had lost it enough, felt lost in it enough, to understand it.
Andrea looked stunned by the fact Miranda had responded to her at all. "Is that what happened with Stephen?"
"That, Andrea, is none of your business."
"Okay," Andrea mumbled and then gulped down the rest of her drink.
Miranda poured the last drops of wine that were left in the bottle into Andrea's empty glass. "You've already decided what you want, Andrea." She looked directly in Andrea's eyes. "Now, it is just up to you to unapologetically pursue it."
"But Nate and my friends…"
"People either choose to stay with you or choose to leave." Miranda distanced herself from Andrea. Once again, she was starting to feel the negative effects of the alcohol; she was beginning to lose control.
Andrea looked down at her hands. "I should probably leave." She braved a glance at Miranda, but quickly looked down again. "It's getting late and Nate might try to find me."
Miranda took another step away from the younger woman. "I'm sure you're capable of seeing yourself out."
Andrea nodded, and then took a hesitant step towards Miranda. She lifted her eyes from the floor and clearly forced herself to meet Miranda's blue eyes. Miranda swallowed, knowing that she should take another step away from the silly girl who foolishly insisted on coming to her home in the middle of the night, but she couldn't quite remember how to move.
"Thank you, Miranda," Andrea whispered before she leaned over and pressed her lips against Miranda's reddened cheek. She slowly pulled away and chanced looking into Miranda's eyes once more before she set her wine glass down onto Miranda's desk and then hurried out of the room.
Continued