Gun Brooke MirAndy/J7 Fanfiction Advent Calendar

- o - 0 - o -

Below the Surface


 

Door 6  

 

Andy placed the napkin on her lap and gazed around the luxurious setting of Smith & Wollensky. This was how the other half lived and something she only got to experience via Miranda who had a standing table here and at Pastis.

Miranda sat across from her at the corner table, deeply engrossed the menu, which was rather ridiculous as she always ordered a medium rare stake with a salad on the side. They already had Pellegrino’s in their glasses, which the waitress had poured as soon as they sat down, no questions asked.

“Are you ready to order, ladies?” The waitress, Beatrice, smiled at Andy and gave Miranda a polite nod. As an experienced New York waitress, Beatrice didn’t cower to anyone, but she had served Miranda enough times to keep her distance. Andy thought it was prudent. Her boss could be vicious when she found the other person something of a fool. She didn’t suffer them in silence, that was for sure.

“I’ll have Chicken Alfredo, please.” Andy returned the smile. “Salad on the side. please.”

“And you, ma’am?” Beatrice kept the polite smile going as she turned to Miranda. Andy wondered if the staff had a pool going how long it would take Miranda to switch up her order.

“The New York Cut Sirloin. Salad on the side. And bring us two glasses of that lovely Chateau Giscours I had when I was here with the board of directors two weeks ago.”

Andy watched Beatrice’s eyes glaze over for a second, but then she squared her shoulders. “But of course, Ms. Priestly.” She hurried toward the kitchen. Andy guessed the staff had learned to keep notes of Miranda’s and other demanding guests’ previous orders, likes, and dislikes. Just like Andy had learned the hard way.

“So.” Miranda laced her fingers and leaned her chin on top of them. “Ten months and two weeks. You’re nearing you’re the end of your first year.”

Andy felt her facial capillaries contract and knew she grew pale. “Yes.” And how was it Miranda knew down to the day how long Andy had been her assistant?”

“Since we both know you didn’t escape that small town environment you were brought up in to remain an assistant, I need to know what plans you’re making.” Miranda shifted in her chair, looking oddly ill at ease as she plucked with the silver wear before her.

Oh, shit. Was Miranda all set to bring in a new assistant? Maybe she had already promised someone Andy’s job. “To be honest,” Andy said, trying to sound businesslike even if the back of her throat was closing around her pent-up emotions, “I haven’t actively looked for a position at a newspaper. Not yet. I guess—working for you has made me question if—”

“If you want to remain in New York at all? I’m that bad of an employer?” Miranda raised her right eyebrow as she pushed back her s-shaped bangs with a practiced maneuver. “How dreadful.” The last part was tinged with acidity.

“No. Not like that. At all.” Andy almost stood up. “What I’ve been thinking about is if I want to be a reporter. I might be drawn toward writing fiction instead, but that is not something I can do without carrying on with my day job at the same time.” Andy lowered her gaze to her hands as she tugged at her fingers. “Are you saying I need to find something else when my year is up?” Praying to any deity that would listen, Andy hoped this wasn’t the case.

“What? No! No.” Haven actually raised her voice for a second, something Miranda never did, normally, she quickly returned to her usual low register. “Whatever gave you that idea?” Miranda shook her head. “Of course, I would rather you stayed on as you’ve turned out to be the most capable of my assistants to date. That doesn’t necessarily say all that much since some of the ones parading through my office were atrocious.”

“Hey, that’s almost a compliment,” Andy dared to joke. “I’m above atrocious. Not too shabby.”

Now Miranda rolled her eyes. “Please. Enough with the humor attempts. Naturally, you are not even near atrocious. After your first couple of weeks, you quickly caught on to how I like things done and what I want. If you would consider remaining, I will of course give you an appropriate raise.” She actually smiled. A real smile and not the barracuda-on-the-prowl variety.

Andy was so relieved, she had to feign some coughing to clear her throat. How was it this woman was so mesmerizing? And to a degree that the prospect of not seeing Miranda every day made her tear up? It was insanity. Miranda could never be interested in Andy in the same manner. Sure, Andy had always thought she was straight and even lived with a guy the last year at college and the first three months of her stay in New York. Now, all she could think of was Miranda Priestly and how this amazing woman looked, smelled, sounded, and—oh, God—how she moved. Miranda, who was straight as far as Andy knew, having been married twice, had eleven-year-old twin daughters, and had never looked at Andy in any special way. Andy paused her thoughts and thought back on their conversation. Miranda had looked kind of special at Andy just earlier. First when she thought that Andy was ready to give notice, and then there had been that real smile.

“All right.” Andy wanted to make sure she hadn’t misunderstood. “So, I stay on and get a raise?”

“Pay attention, Andrea. No need repeating every syllable I utter.” Miranda gazed up at Beatrice who arrived with their wine. Miranda tasted it and closed her eyes as she sipped the wine. Opening her eyes, she gazed straight at Andy. “Quite sufficient, actually.” Her blue eyes glittered and her lips were damp from the wine she just sampled.

Beatrice poured of the whine into their glasses and left the table. Andy simply stared at Miranda and the way she looked. ‘Quite sufficient’, huh? What if Miranda wasn’t only talking about the wine.

Now that kind of hoping was setting Andy up for a world of hurt.

 

 


 
Door 7 will open on Dec 7, 2016

FEEDBACK