Gun Brooke MirAndy/J7 Fanfiction Advent Calendar

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Below the Surface

There are two hidden links so far (not behind any of the doors) that will lead you to two manips. Search with the cursor until you see it change into a hand. :-)


I put up one more manip as a hidden link on my calendar yesterday! Go search!  :-)

Door 14


Miranda stood before the full-length mirror in her bedroom, adjusting the lace shawl she wore around her shoulders. The dress, a Balenciaga with black and silver lace flowers against black satin, billowed out just beneath her hips. Black Prada heels perfected the ensemble along with a black pearl decorated clutch. The lace shawl was see-through enough to make her skin barely show, which she knew was sexier than if she had gone without.

Wondering what Andrea was wearing. Nigel had promised to make her assistant look appropriate for a Met event. Normally, Andrea wore shirts and slacks at the office, but it wasn’t hard for Miranda to envision Andrea as a jeans and t-shirt girl when off the clock.

Her doorbell chimed and, glancing at her cell, Miranda realized it was her driver for the night. She donned a faux fur coat and made sure she had her clutch containing keys, a miniature makeup kit, two credit cards, a small pack of Kleenex, and five twenty dollar bills.

A Mercedes town car awaited her at the curb and it pleased her to see Roy holding the door to the backseat open for her.

“Good evening, Miranda,” Roy said amicably. “A nice night for a party.”

“It sure is.” Miranda slid into the car with practiced ease.

“Traffic is not too bad. We’ll collect Ms. Sachs with time to spare,” Roy said when he pulled out into the street.

“Good.” Miranda found herself clenching her fists and marveled at how nervous she suddenly felt. This might turn out to be a mistake, but her impulsive decision to ask—or order, perhaps—Andrea to accompany her to the Met Advent ball had felt right at the time. The idea of having Christian Thompson or James Holt at her side had turned her stomach. They had escorted her before, and she knew very well about the whispers and had read the comments in the gossip columns. “Snow Queen and her Toy boy,” and similar things. God only knew what they might make of her choice tonight. The less acerbic might just think Andrea was there as Miranda’s assistant. No more no less. But the ones out to snag a scoop and a headline could very well come up with speculations that Andrea was Miranda’s secret lesbian lover.

Her thoughts made Miranda tremble. If she had just stuck to working as a psychotherapist, becoming famous would not have been an issue at all. But after writing five self-help books that had all been number one on the New York Times non-fiction bestseller list, Miranda was a celebrity.

Roy stopped at an unassuming looking building and left the car to press the button to Andrea’s apartment. He remained by the front door until it opened and Andrea walked outside.

Miranda stared. This was not the same girl that worked long hours in Miranda’s office. This woman looked every bit the part of a Manhattan socialite. Her dark plum dress, a Valentino, Miranda thought, followed Andrea’s every curve. Sleeveless, it seemed to be kept up around Andrea’s full breasts by sheer willpower. The cape keeping Andrea warm was made from what looked like crushed, golden velvet. She held a small rose gold colored clutch and walked cautiously on four-inch heel gold pumps to the car. As she slid into the back seat next to Miranda, Andrea then busied herself with straightening her skirt and making sure her hair was still in it’s simple, but oh, so stunning, chignon at the nape of her neck. Glancing over at Miranda, she colored faintly.

“Good evening, Miranda,” Andrea said and swallowed. “Do I look okay? Nigel, who is a sweetheart, said this was just the thing.” She patted the dress. “And he also lent me this cape. I feel like a princess—which is truly a first for me.”

Miranda opened her mouth and was about to say her usual understated “not too shabby,” when, “You look lovely, Andrea. Beautiful,” came out instead.

Andrea’s mouth fell open, and unlike just about anyone else, this made her look vulnerable in the most adorable way. “Yes? Really?”


Andrea scanned Miranda where she sat with her faux fur coat open in front. “You, though, you look amazing…and if I feel like a princess…you are undoubtedly the queen.”

“Why thank you.” Miranda’s heart picked up even more speed at Andrea’s heartfelt words. “Now, a few words of warning before we get to the Met ball. There will be press. Paparazzi and others, all wanting pictures, a quote or several, and the only way to deal with them is to pretend they don’t exist. Just keep your eyes forward and keep a polite smile going. That’ll make it easier.”

“Paparazzi?” Andrea swallowed. “Oh, God.” She plucked at her clutch.

“You’ll be fine. If anyone with a film camera stops us to chat, let me do the talking if you don’t know what to say.”

“Why would they want to talk to me in the first place?” Andrea looked puzzled.

“Oh, Andrea…don’t you realize?” Miranda took Andrea’s right hand in hers. It trembled, but returned the light squeeze as if Miranda’s was a lifeline.

“What?” Andrea shook her head as if trying to clear it.

“When we arrive together like this, some, not all, but some, will presume that you’re my date.” Miranda saw this wasn’t enough of an explanation as Andrea merely nodded with a slight frown between her eyes. “And by that, I mean date date. In a romantic sense.”

Andrea’s lips took on the shape of a perfect ‘o’ and Miranda was certain, this was yet another of Andreas exquisite expressions. How the hell was she going to be able to regard Andrea as nothing more than her mere assistant again?




Door 14 will open on Dec 14, 2016