Chapter Text
Miranda Priestly had had it with this day. The shoot in Central Park was now a true disaster and she'd had to send both Emily and Jessica to help Nigel get it done before it ended up costing them thousands over budget. And speaking of the budget she had spent most of the morning locked in a battle with Irv over everything and anything.
Before Emily had rushed out with Miranda's warnings ringing in her ear she had managed to tell Miranda that her car was ready to be picked up from the shop and the woman from the shop insisted that it be picked up today.
The girls had a dance at school that weekend and had been begging her to let them take the Porsche. Her daughters were in their junior year of high school and they had already been accepted to numerous prestigious colleges. Caroline and Cassidy deserved to take the car to the dance so that is what they would get.
Her call to Roy a few minutes ago revealed that he was stuck in a traffic jam up town and would not be able to pick the car up from the shop before it closed.
Now Miranda was really annoyed. She would have to go get the car herself. She honestly could not remember the last time she had to do such a mundane task herself.
She was even being forced to take a taxi to the shop and that is where she sat now. The cab smelled vaguely of vomit and it was too hot, allowing the smell to overwhelm her. The air conditioner must not being working and New York City was going through a heat wave.
She was starting to sweat. Miranda Priestly did not sweat in public. Just before she lost her temper entirely and made the disgusting man pull his cab over he pulled up to a big garage.
Miranda stepped out gratefully, taking deep cleansing breaths. She shook her head to clear it and then took a closer look at the car repair shop. It was bigger than she would have thought with five garage doors. All of them were wide open and full. The entire place was covered in a thin layer of dirt and grease.
Although she felt completely out of place she held her head high and walked into one of the open doors. There wasn't anyone she could see so she called out. "Does anyone work in this filth?"
There was shuffle to her right and someone stood up from the other side of a car. The woman brushed her long brunette ponytail back and huffed at the bangs that were falling in her face. She had some sort of tool in her hand and her face was smudged with grease.
"Can I help you?" she asked, her voice much lower than Miranda was expecting.
"You run a car repair business. I'm here about my car."
Miranda watched the woman frown slightly at her before she looked closer. A smirk formed and she moved around the car, making her outfit, a white beater tank top and coveralls, the top tied around her waist visible.
"That's quite the pretty outfit. I wouldn't touch anything if you want to get out of here without a grease stain." The woman's voice was full of humor and something else Miranda could not name.
"As if I would deign to touch anything in here. My name is Miranda Priestly."
If anything the smirk got bigger at her rude words and the other woman moved even closer. "The Porsche. It's a beautiful car. I enjoyed working on it."
"Lovely. If we could move this along, I have places I need to be."
"Of course," the woman said graciously. She walked over to a door and gestured Miranda through it. It was small room but nicely air conditioned and smelling like flowers.
The woman found some paperwork and looked it over before sliding it across a low counter. The whole time a smile remained on her face and she continued to look Miranda over. Miranda felt this woman's gaze like a caress it was so intent and appreciative.
"The total comes to eight hundred and forty dollars."
Miranda had spent less on a skirt last week but that did not stop the sneer from forming. "Did you plate the breaks with gold?"
Instead of being offended the girl laughed appreciatively. Miranda raised an eyebrow but handed over her credit card. As the girl took the card Miranda's eye caught on the tattoos gracing the pale skin of her entire forearm. Miranda had never liked tattoos, they were low class and pedestrian, but the intricate lines forming geometric and honeycomb patterns was almost hypnotic.
"My grandfather said you've been bringing Porches here for years," the girl said, attempting small talk as the ancient terminal tried to send its signal.
Miranda said nothing. She also abhorred pleasantries.
When the silence had gone on for some minutes Miranda looked over and saw that same dark brown gaze languidly tracing over her. The crooked smile turned into more of a smirk when they made eye contact. Although slightly discomfited, Miranda refused to look away.
The girl set the receipt on the counter to be signed and held out a pen. "I'm Andy, by the way." Miranda signed the small slip and took the copy, shoving it unceremoniously in her purse. "What are you doing Friday night?"
Miranda did not stop the scoff. "Probably still scrubbing the grime off of me from this place."
Andy leaned against the counter and folded her arms. "Well, take a break from that and let me take you out for a drink."
This time she laughed outright, her scorn obvious. "You must be out of your mind."
That smile never wavered. "Completely sane as a matter of fact. And I'd like to see you unclench a bit and get you something to drink."
Miranda scowled. "I don't know what you're playing at but this is entirely inappropriate. You're a mechanic, for Heaven's sake. Not to mention you're at least twenty years younger than me. I'm leaving now." She pulled her sunglasses out of her bag and settled them on her face, her nose in the air. She turned to leave and felt more than heard Andy follow her.
The heat was brutal as they left the air conditioned office. "I can't help but notice that I'm a woman wasn't a problem." Miranda snorted and headed out of the garage into the blistering sunlight. "So, you'll call me? We can work out the details?" the girl called out.
Miranda turned when she opened the door to her car and looked back at the girl, standing just inside the garage, her hands on her hips and that same amused and seductive smile on her face.
Miranda quirked an eye brow and then against her better judgment replied, "You wouldn't know what to do to with me."
The ringing laughter only cut off when Miranda had shut the door. She drove away with one long last look at the girl in her rearview mirror, not realizing her irritation from the day was gone.
Miranda stood staring at the front of her Porsche. Her twins stood behind her, fidgeting with freight and guilt.
"Go through this for me one more time please," Miranda commanded, her voice soft, silky, deadly.
Caroline cleared her throat. "W-well, we were on our way to the dance and-"
"-and Bryce was in the back seat, just like you told us!" Cassidy hurriedly put in.
"Right," Caroline agreed gratefully. "Bryce and Greg were both in the back just like you said. And then, well, he reached forward to turn the radio station and..."
"Caroline was being really careful," Cassidy said firmly. "But Bryce distracted her and well, the car in front of us stopped really quickly when a person ran across the road. He came out of nowhere!"
Caroline nodded vehemently. "I hit the brakes really hard and fast but...but it didn't stop in time. I ran into the car in front of us."
Hence, the dent in the front fender of her 600,000 dollar Porsche. Miranda sighed and ran a hand over her face. She was furious, at her daughters for allowing this to happen, especially at those boys for distracting her youngest while driving. But she had to look on the bright side.
"At least no one was hurt," she sighed.
Her girls traded shocked glances. "You-you're not mad?" Cassidy asked.
"A little," she admitted. "But no one was hurt, you came and told me about it the next day, and you're owning up to your responsibilities."
Caroline nodded again. "We're really sorry."
"These things happen," Miranda said. "Just be more careful in the future."
Both girls jumped forward to give her a big hug. "Thank you," they said.
Miranda nodded and waved them off. Once they were gone she looked back at the car. She would have to call Emily and tell her to call the shop on Monday. That made her think of the girl, Andy. She had thought about her often the past four days, mostly with irritation but a healthy dose of amusement. And some attraction. She had been shocked to realize that she had enjoyed the girl, actually been attracted to her. It wasn't so much that she was a woman but that Miranda had not been attracted to anyone, woman or otherwise, since her divorce from Stephen five years ago.
She had been so focused on her career, keeping her job secure from the likes of Irv Ravitz and raising her girls that she had never even looked at anyone romantically. And it would not do for her to start now, especially a female mechanic who was probably half her age.
Miranda pulled out her phone and sent a text to Emily about the car and to get it in the next day. She would have her assistant do all the work and have no contact with Andy at all. She frowned at the name. She must have a more formal one, a better one, than Andy.
It was 3:30 on Monday when Emily came scurrying into Miranda's office. "Miranda, I have someone from the car shop on the line. He says it's urgent."
He? Miranda was instantly skeptical but she nodded. "Put it through." A moment later she picked up. "Yes, this is Miranda."
"Ms. Priestly, it's Andy." Miranda could hear the smirk through the phone.
"I think my assistant needs some hearing aids as you clearly are not a man," Miranda stated, trying to keep the flirtation out of her voice and failing.
"I lowered my voice when she answered. I thought you might turn down the call," Andy laughed.
"Well, you would have been right," Miranda answered. "You said it was urgent?"
"Eh." Miranda pictured her shrugging. "I just wanted to tell you that if you wanted to see me, you didn't have to dent your car. You could have just called."
Miranda narrowed her eyes and spun in her chair, away from the door and towards the window. "You think very highly of yourself, don't you?"
"Sometimes. Only when I know it's true."
"My, my. The ego is astounding. And I work with models and artists every day."
"Takes one to know one, honey. So, what do you say? I figure a thousand dollar bumper is worth me taking you out for a drink. Man, you must be desperate."
Instead of scorching the Earth with her ire Miranda was surprised to find she was simply amused and intrigued. "I think you need to see a medical professional because you are clearly delusional," Miranda scoffed.
"Come on. One drink. You know you want to."
Miranda bit her lip and considered it. It was a terrible idea. Really horrible. Nothing good could possibly come from it.
"My teenage daughters are responsible for that dent. You know, girls who you are closer in age to than you are to me."
"Age doesn't matter much to me."
"Because you aren't old enough for it to," Miranda pointed out.
"That's probably true," Andy conceded. "Doesn't change the fact that I want to take you out for a drink."
Miranda sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine. One drink." There was a muffled sound from the other end of the line and Miranda imagined Andy pumping her first in the air.
"Perfect. What night this week is good for you?"
Miranda called in Emily. "What night this week am I free?"
"Are you literally talking to an assistant right now?" Andy asked, as Emily started a run through her schedule. "That is hot."
Miranda cleared her throat and ignored the heat in her cheeks, trying to focus on Emily. Finally she caught something of use. "I'm free after 7 on Wednesday." She turned again, cutting Emily off. The woman would talk for ages if she wasn't stopped.
"I'll pick you up from your work. Elias-Clarke right?"
"Yes," Miranda said slowly.
"Obviously I checked you out online," Andy said.
"That's a little..."
"Flattering?"
"I was going to go with creepy."
"Low blow. Plus, apparently everyone knows who you are."
"But you didn't."
"I had an idea. I didn't understand that I was looking at the most important woman in the fashion world."
"Well."
"I should hang up before I use all my good lines over the phone."
Miranda rolled her eyes. "These are your best lines? I'm a little disappointed."
"Don't be, honey. I'll make it up to you. I'll see you Wednesday. Oh, dress casual. Or as casual as you can."
Miranda felt trepidation at that but agreed. "Okay. Oh, what's your full name? There has to be something in there better than Andy."
The girl chuckled. "Andrea. But everyone calls me Andy."
"Until Wednesday, Andrea," she replied, using the French pronunciation. She hung up and turned. "Emily! Tell Nigel to meet me in the Closet in ten minutes."
At 6:55 on Wednesday Miranda looked herself over in the mirror one last time. Her makeup was flawless as always. Her outfit was a pair of high-waisted black Prada pants that barely brushed her ankles. Her shirt was a gold tank with three buttons on the throat. The outfit made her look younger but not like she was trying to look young, a great difference Miranda had always been very clear about.
Nigel had helped pick out the outfit and given her surprising insight, especially on the shoes, a pair of flowery Christian Lous that added a flare of femininity to the ensemble. He had also provided the jewelry, which was a simple rose gold chain around her neck.
She fixed her lipstick, and took a deep breath. She was surprised at how nervous she felt. She shook her head and left, picking up her small clutch with her phone and wallet in it as she went.
Miranda blazed past the ogling security guards. She usually was dressed much fancier than this she knew, but judging by Andrea's rough style she assumed casual really meant casual.
She walked out the door and stopped short when she saw Andrea leaning against a beautiful, shiny slate gray with black stripes El Camino. Andrea was in torn skinny boy cut jeans and a very low cut white v-neck cut t-shirt.
Miranda felt a slow wave arousal hit her and she shook her head at herself before walking forward, people parting around her as they usually did. Andrea pulled her metal frame Ray Bans down her nose as Miranda walked closer, her eyes roaming over Miranda's form with blatant approval.
"Wow," Andrea said as Miranda got closer. "That's a damn outfit."
Miranda smirked. "And that's a damn car."
Andrea beamed and ran a hand along the roof. "She's my pride and joy." She opened the door on the passenger side and waited for Miranda to climb in.
Miranda watched Andrea nod to the valet service men who watched with curiously. She rounded the car and got in with a grace that Miranda knew was inherent.
"You ready?" Andrea asked with a smile.
Miranda nodded and waved a hand as if to say 'on with it.' Andrea laughed and without more than a cursory glance, pulled into the New York City traffic.
"So what hole in the wall are you taking me to?" Miranda asked, trying to take her mind off Andrea's arguably insane driving.
"We're going to Brooklyn. There's a place there that I think you'll like."
"Brooklyn?" Miranda asked with distaste.
"Yes, Brooklyn."
"I don't think I've been to Brooklyn more than a handful of times in the last three years."
"Good! Then it'll be a treat," Andrea said smoothly.
"You have an answer for everything, don't you?"
"Most of the time. I was speechless for a minute there when you walked into the shop."
Miranda scoffed and laughed at the obvious line. "That was good, I'll give you that."
"And true. You in a flawless white suit surrounded by my greasy garage. It was like looking at a mirage."
Miranda blushed lightly. "Well."
"So tell me about your daughters," Andrea said, being surprisingly gallant and not pointing out the blush.
"They're wonderful. Almost eighteen now, which is terrifying."
"Twins, huh? I bet they're a world of trouble."
"They went through a phase around fifteen that was similar to beating my head against a wall, but they grew out of it quickly, thank God."
"Names?"
"Caroline and Cassidy. They're trying to figure out which college they're going to attend after they graduate."
"You're hoping for something in New York I imagine?"
Miranda shrugged. "I want them to go wherever life takes them. It's not like I can't afford to go visit them wherever they end up."
"That's very true," Andrea said.
"What about you? How'd you end up working at the shop?"
"My grandfather owned it. I've worked there since I was sixteen. It had always been the plan for me to take over. When he passed two years ago I inherited everything."
"I'm sorry," Miranda said quietly.
"Thanks. He was a good man, best man I ever knew. He went just the way he would have wanted; a cold beer in his hand, asleep in front of the Giants game."
Miranda thought that sounded terrible, but she knew that this man and Miranda would have absolutely zero things in common.
"Do you have any other family?"
"A father, but we don't speak."
There was no other information given and Miranda knew better than to ask. "I see."
"I have a very large, nosy, wonderful group of friends who have been my family for as long as I can remember. I lived with two of them up until my grandpa died. Then I moved into my own place closer to the garage."
"You live on the Upper East side?"
"Just on the edge of Midtown. It's a great place. Small but a lot of character, and I don't need a lot of space."
"And where did you live previously?"
"Hell's Kitchen. Now that apartment was a wreck but the three of us loved it."
"Ah, to be young again," Miranda said with snark.
"But a wee child I am," Andrea shot back. "How old do you think I am, exactly?"
Miranda turned to look at her with pursed lips. "Not a day over twenty-six."
Andrea laughed. "I turned thirty-one a few weeks ago. But thank you for the compliment."
Miranda was surprised, she was usually really good at this sort of thing. "You look younger."
"So do you. And yes I know how old you are."
"Oh, really?" Miranda replied, crossing her arms.
"You're fifty-five but your birthday is in about three months."
"Which makes me twenty-four years older than you."
"Blink of an eye," Andrea shot back with a grin.
"You're incorrigible."
"So I've been told."
There was a few minutes of surprisingly comfortable silence and then they were there. At least, it's where Andrea stopped the car. Miranda looked out the window dubiously. It was late summer and the sun stayed up late so there was plenty of light but it was heavily shadowed.
She could see people walking on the street but nothing to indicate a restaurant of any kind. Andrea stepped out and hurried around the car to open Miranda's door. She took the girl's offered hand and stood, watching Andrea's eye skirt her form again.
"My god," Andrea sighed. Miranda rolled her eyes but did not pull her hand away.
"This looks like an industrial area. Are you planning on killing me and hiding my body in one of these buildings?"
Andrea laughed and turned toward a building. "And waste this magnificent body? Yeah, right. Come on, it's this way."
Andrea kept her grip on Miranda's hand as they walked down a side road. She heard laughter and talking but could not see where it came from. Andrea pulled open a door and they stepped inside. It was pretty dark and Miranda waited for her eyes to adjust as Andrea lifted her sunglasses up to rest on her head.
"Up here," Andrea said, again pulling her forward and up a set of stairs, and then another, and another. Just as Miranda was about to start complaining, her shoes, though stunning, were not made for steps, they made it to the top. Andrea was not at all out of breath and Miranda thanked every deity that she knew that she had a personal trainer three times a week.
Andrea pushed through another door and into a brightly lit loud restaurant. The light came from a whole wall of windows that viewed a rooftop with tables, a bar, and a dance floor. The tables inside and outside were full from the look of it.
Andrea stepped up to the hostess podium. "Hey, Trish."
The woman apparently named Trish looked up. "Andy!" She ran around and gave Andrea a big hug. "I was so happy to hear from you! We haven't seen you here in months."
Andrea shrugged. "Just working, you know. It's nice to see you. How's your mom?"
"Great! She's coming in later. She told me not to let you leave until she got to say hi," Trish said, laughing.
Andrea laughed back. "I look forward to seeing her. Is our table ready?"
Trish looked past Andrea for the first time and saw Miranda. Her eyes widened and she smiled. "Of course. Got you the best table in the place."
Andrea looked at Miranda and smiled, reaching for her hand again as they followed the girl through a glass door to the outside. They maneuvered around the people to end up at a table in the corner, overlooking the edge of the building with a great view of the city. Above the tables were strings of lights that would no doubt look beautiful when the sun went down.
"Here you are," Trish said perkily. "Ryan is your server tonight. I'll catch up with you guys later."
She hurried off as Andrea held out Miranda's chair for her. "Such a gentleman," Miranda observed with a smile.
Andrea smiled as she settled down opposite her. "I try. So, what do you think?"
Miranda looked around, and found she thoroughly enjoyed the atmosphere. There was a band setting up near the dance floor with what appeared to be jazz instruments. "It's...acceptable."
Andrea quirked an eye brow. "That's as good as I'm going to get, isn't it?"
Miranda found herself chuckling. "Alright, it's lovely. I like it."
Andrea beamed. "Wait until you try the food."
They looked over the menus for a few minutes until Ryan showed up. "Hey, Andy," the scrawny kid said.
"Hey, Ryan! How's school?" Andrea asked.
"It's school," he shrugged. "What can I get you guys to drink?"
"I'll have my usual, the Wit." Andrea looked at her expectantly.
"Vodka seltzer with a lemon." Ryan nodded and walked away. "So, you seem to know everyone here."
"I used to babysit Trish when I was in high school. Her mom, Maggie, owns this restaurant. Ryan is Maggie's grandson and Trish's nephew."
"A family affair," Miranda mused.
"That's how it's always been done here. Maggie and my grandpa had a thing," Andrea said conspiratorially. "It didn't work out, mostly because Maggie was still married at the time."
Miranda's eyes widened. "Interesting man, your grandfather."
Andrea laughed. "Oh, yeah. Maggie was his weakness, and he hers. Frank, her husband, died about three years after it all went down. He told me that they saw each other after on and off but nothing stuck. Weird how things don't work out sometimes."
"Probably too much had happened," Miranda pointed out, understanding the situation.
"That's what he always said. Anyways, they stayed great friends. She was with him when he died, actually. It was all very Nicholas Sparks," Andrea said with a fond smile.
Miranda shook her head and looked down at her menu. "You're full of surprises already, Andrea."
"Really? And what were you expecting?"
"Honestly? I don't have a clue. But you seem very smart and capable so far. And too witty for your own good," Miranda said sternly.
Andrea smirked. "But my wit is my best quality."
Miranda's eye ran over Andrea's fit but curvy form. "You appear to have a few others."
There was a surprised but delighted look on Andrea's face as she leaned forward. "Why, Miranda Priestly, did you just come on to me?"
Miranda looked back down at her menu but could not hide her smile. "If you have to ask maybe I wasn't forward enough."
Andrea shook her head and leaned back again. "This is very pleasant surprise. I thought I'd have to liquor you up to get you to relax a little."
Miranda narrowed her eyes. "I don't get drunk, Andrea. Ever."
"I was thinking more tipsy but that is depressing. Never? Everyone deserves a good drunk every once in a while."
"I have too much to do on a daily basis to deal with it."
Ryan came back with their drinks. "You guys know what you want?"
Andrea looked at her inquisitively. "You mind if I order for us? It's all small plates and appetizers."
Miranda hated food being ordered for her. She knew exactly what she liked so why should she have to deal with something she didn't just to placate someone? She reigned it all in. She was having a unexpectedly good time and decided to give the girl the benefit of the doubt. She waved her hand. "Go ahead."
Andrea rattled off four different things that Miranda did not pay attention. She would wait until the food was in front of her before she made her verdict.
"Thank you. You don't seem like the type to relinquish control very much."
"I'm not," Miranda said bluntly. "For some unknown reason I'm giving you a chance because so far you've made some good decisions."
"I'll try to not let you down," Andrea said with sass.
Miranda finished the last small crostini on her plate and sighed. "I don't understand why it's so good."
Andrea laughed and popped some sort of filo breaded pork in her mouth. "It's sorcery. I don't know how she does it."
The jazz band had been playing for a while now and the twinkle lights everywhere shown in the dark. It really was a beautiful place.
Ryan had refreshed their drinks and Miranda was well into her second one. She felt full of good food and a little tingly from the alcohol and Andrea was looking at her with an expression that got more sultry as the night went on.
"Let's dance," Andrea stated suddenly. She stood and came around the table, holding her hand out.
Miranda shook her head. "I don't think so, Andrea."
"Come on. There's tons of people dancing."
Miranda looked over at the crowded dance floor. There were couples of every age, race and sexuality dancing. Miranda saw two gay couples and a lesbian couple, two young girls who looked like they would not choose to be anywhere else but there in each other's arms. There was a couple well into their seventies.
Miranda sighed, threw her napkin on the table and took Andrea's hand. Why the hell not? Andrea beamed and led her out to the dance floor, weaving between couples before finding a place she apparently liked and pulled Miranda close.
Miranda had never danced with a woman before so there was a moment of awkwardness before Andrea wrapped an arm around her waist and held her hand up against her chest. Miranda's other hand went naturally around the girl's neck.
"Mmm," Andrea purred contently. "Thank you."
"For?"
"Coming out with me. Letting me order, dancing. All of the above."
Miranda was acutely aware of the hand clasped around her waist, rubbing gently as they swayed. "It's not something I usually do," she admitted.
"I gathered. Trust me, I heard the rumors about the Devil in Prada."
Miranda smirked and pulled back a little to look at the girl. "Yet you invited me out anyways. Demanded it, even."
"Well, yeah. If anything it just made you more attractive."
Miranda chuckled and then just managed to stifle a gasp when Andrea pulled her impossibly closer. Miranda felt the hand on her back trail up and then down hypnotically. The girl's hand that held hers between them was the one covered in tattoos and Miranda kept gazing at it.
Andrea lifted her arm up so Miranda could see it clearly. "I started it when I was twenty. I just keep adding to it. It's hard to stop. I have more, too." Miranda looked around but didn't see any openly. Andrea dropped her hand only for a moment to brush her long silky brown hair out of the way so Miranda could see a sparrow on the back of her neck. "The others require a bit less clothes to see."
Miranda blushed and ran her eyes over the girl. "Well."
Andrea laughed evilly and pulled her close again. "Not around tattoos much, are you?"
Miranda shrugged. "Not really. The designers have some occasionally, but it would be job suicide for models to have them. I suppose my workers could have them but they're covered up at work."
"So how many people work for you exactly?"
Miranda quirked up an eye brow. "If they work in the fashion industry, dear, they work for me."
Andrea smirked and squeezed her side. "The Queen of Fashion." Miranda acknowledged this as her due. "So what do you do when you aren't running an empire?"
"I work about fourteen to sixteen hour days. When I'm not doing that I'm with my girls."
"Where are the girls tonight?"
"Out to a movie. They're almost done with school for the year so I let them have a little freedom."
"And you didn't want to tell them you were on a date."
Miranda scowled. "That's none of your business."
Andrea shrugged. "That is very true. I'm just glad you're here." Miranda felt the girls hand run down her back and over her ass. "These pants make your ass look amazing."
Miranda rolled her eyes. "I'm glad you appreciate them."
"More than appreciate. Worship would be a better word." Miranda scoffed. "Seriously. I've never seen anyone more elegant or beautiful. I doubt a queen would hold a candle."
"You are full of it."
Andrea chuckled. "You bring out the best in me it seems."
"And the cheesiest."
"And yet, you're still charmed."
Miranda hummed in agreement and let her hand move around the girl's neck to touch the skin above her shirt. Andrea sighed and closed her eyes. The music changed and slowed and they moved together to the beat.
It became fluid and sensual and Miranda's breath got a little faster. Andrea's hand turned from rubbing to caressing her back and she felt her hips move closer without conscious thought. Miranda ran her hand up into the girl's hair and dragged her nails lightly against her scalp.
Andrea shivered and clenched around her tighter. "Listen, let's-"
"Andy!"
Miranda flinched slightly and backed away as an older woman came rushing forward and grabbed Andrea in a bear hug. Miranda assumed this woman was Maggie.
"Maggie, it's so good to see you!" Andrea exclaimed, hugging back. Her eyes though were on Miranda who was clearing her throat and brushing her hair back.
"How have you been? I haven't seen you in months!"
"Really good. The shop is going great. Maggie, this is Miranda."
Maggie turned to look at Miranda and looked her over. Miranda raised an eye brow and waited. She knew what the other woman was thinking, just like Miranda knew what she would be thinking if she saw two women with such a large age difference. But Miranda Priestly never faltered, bowed to no one, so she lifted her head and waited.
"Miranda, it's a pleasure to meet you."
Miranda simply nodded and took Andrea's hand as the girl led them off the dance floor. Andrea chatted with the woman as they went and by the time they made it back to their table they were all caught up. "Now, bring your car in this week, I'll give it the over haul. I can't believe that rust bucket is still running."
Maggie scoffed and waved her hand. "That car still runs like a dream." Maggie looked them over again. "Now, you girls get out of here. Enjoy the night."
"We still need the check," Andrea said, reaching into her back pocket for her worn leather wallet.
Maggie waved her off. "Don't be ridiculous. Now off, you two. Miranda it was nice to meet you. I hope to see you again." Miranda shook her hand, though reluctantly. They made significant eye contact, coming to an unspoken agreement, and then Maggie gave Andrea one more hug and she was gone.
Andrea looked at her suspiciously. "What was that?"
Miranda grabbed her clutch off the table and swept past Andrea without answering. Andrea caught up quickly, snaking a hand around her waist as they walked. Miranda was not fond of public displays of affection and almost stepped away but she didn't. Apparently she was doing a lot today that she didn't normally do.
"Fine, don't tell me," Andrea said. "I'll just grill Maggie later."
Miranda snorted. "Good luck with that, dear."
Andrea held the door for her again as Miranda got into the car. The ride back to Manhattan was quiet and pleasant. Andrea reached a hand over and took Miranda's in a no nonsense way that made Miranda feel like it was a given.
Miranda directed her to her townhome and they stopped outside. Andrea turned to look at her in the dark car. "I'm really happy you came out tonight."
Miranda sighed. "I am too, shockingly."
Andrea chuckled and reached up, drawing two fingers down Miranda's cheek. "Come out with me again."
Miranda was silent for a moment, her concentration entirely on the hand on her cheek. "Perhaps."
Andrea smiled triumphantly and then leaned forward and gently pressed her lips against Miranda's. Miranda sighed and fell into the kiss. It had been so long since someone had touched her intimately, but Miranda did not remember the heat that came with it. Maybe it had never felt like this before.
Miranda reached a hand around the girl's neck and pulled her mouth more firmly against hers. Andrea moaned lightly and kissed her deeply. She sucked and bit Miranda's lower lip and Miranda gasped into the quiet car.
She pulled back abruptly. "I should go in."
Andrea's eyes were glassy but she nodded. She let out a deep breath and ran her hand through her long hair. "Hold on." She went around the car quickly and opened Miranda's door. Andrea smiled at her and reached up to rub a thumb over her lip, fixing some apparently smudged lipstick. Then she leaned forward and kissed Miranda's cheek gently.
"So, what do you think? Should I make it twenty-four hours before I call you?"
Miranda chuckled as she walked up to her house. She looked back and saw Andrea leaning up against the car, watching her. "I think twelve would be sufficient."
The girl's smile was blinding. "You have yourself a deal, Priestly."
"I guess I should have waited a little bit longer to call."
"Why is there fuchsia on my desk? Did someone have a stroke or something?" Miranda sneered at the young girl standing in front of her. Jocelyn quickly stepped forward and snatched the offending garment from her glass desk.
"I'll call back," Andrea said through the phone and Miranda could hear the amusement in her voice.
"Give me just a moment." She moved her mouth away from the phone to speak to the room at large. "I will be taking this phone call for ten minutes. I suggest you create a miracle in that time." The four people in the room froze, looking at her with wide frightened eyes. "Go," she snapped.
The four people dove for the door, whispering frantically to each other. She waited until they were out of sight and swept her forelock back before taking a breath. "Andrea."
"I don't know if I want to save those people from you or throw you down on that desk you were talking about."
Miranda sucked in a breath at the image but ignored it. "They're all completely incompetent. Why can no one have vision?"
"I wouldn't know. I'm currently covered in grease and just made a rip in my pants that goes from knee to ankle."
Miranda felt herself being calmed by the humor. "That sounds like a vision to me."
"You sweet talker, you. Don't let the lemmings hear you say things like that."
"We call them clackers," Miranda chuckled. The typing from the assistants outside her office faltered and Miranda knew they had heard her laugh. She rolled her eyes in annoyance and crossed the room, closing the glass doors with a pointed look.
"The heels?" Andrea guessed.
"Indeed."
"I'm sure the sound of them hurling themselves out of your way is pretty deafening."
"They've been getting a little slow. Apparently this abysmal run-through was needed."
"Just leave a little piece of them left for the couture to hang off."
"I won't make promises I can't keep, Andrea."
Andrea laughed loudly. "I have to admit, I was a little nervous you would have freaked out over night."
Miranda paused. "It was there for a moment, and I'm sure will make another appearance, but for now my conscience is firmly shut up."
"And your conscience is telling you this isn't a good idea?"
"I believe the terms 'cougar' and 'cradle-robber' are being used frequently."
Andrea scoffed. "If that's the worst it can come up with I think we're good."
"Well, there are other...concerns."
There was a long silence over the phone and as it dragged, Miranda propped a hand on her hip nervously. "I don't think I want to hear about those. Not yet, at least," Andrea finally said, her voice low and musing but Miranda could hear the trepidation.
Andrea had to know she had some apprehension towards this entire thing. Miranda wanted that out there to start with. How the girl handled knowing this went a long way towards Miranda's opinion of her.
"They'll have to be discussed at some point."
"I know. But for now why don't you call in that British girl and see when I can take you out again." Miranda thought for a moment, and opened her mouth to press the issue when Andrea cut in. "Priestly, we aren't getting married. I just want to take you out on a date."
Miranda huffed. "As if I would marry a mechanic."
"As if I would marry a spoiled brat. Now check your damn schedule." Miranda felt her temper boiling over. Never would she stand for this sort of talk. "Before you have a hissy fit why don't we talk about what I'd like to do once I throw you down on what I'm sure is the most uncomfortable but highly stylish desk of yours."
Miranda laughed evilly. "You think you can distract me that easily? I've ruined people for less, Andrea."
"But you didn't want them to fuck you senseless. And unless I'm very much mistaken that is what you want. Just as much as I want to." Miranda let out a ragged breath. "I'm thinking somewhere a little fancier this time. I'd like to see you in a dress."
"You-you just assume-" Miranda found herself sputtering.
"Somewhere dark, with candlelight and quiet music. Where I can ran my hand up your thigh and no one can see."
Miranda exhaled and closed her eyes. She wanted to tear this girl apart, make her feel small and useless. And yet. "Nowhere on the Upper Side."
"I know how to be discreet. Give me a night and I'll make it happen."
"Emily!" The redhead came barreling through the doors. "I need a night this week free."
Emily frantically went to check the schedule and Miranda let the silence roll between her and the girl.
"So, what are you wearing?"
"Don't push your luck," Miranda snarled.
Andrea chuckled smugly back. Emily came back in. "You have a late meeting on Thursday but you should be done by 8:30."
"That's all." Miranda waited until the Brit was gone. "9:00 Thursday."
"Where do you want me to pick you up?"
"The townhouse. I will come outside, do not come up."
"I'm good with that," Andrea agreed affably.
"I'm sure you are," Miranda sneered, still irritated.
"I'll see you then, Priestly." Andrea sounded too amused for her own good and Miranda clicked her phone off without saying goodbye.
She took a few cleansing breaths and looked at herself in the mirror she had along a side wall. Her color was up in her cheeks and her eyes flashed. She looked livid. And like she just had a bout of great sex. Oh, she was in trouble. She whipped around and snatched the doors open. "Have they somehow managed to die between here and their office? I want them here now."
Jessica jumped up from her desk and sprinted in the direction of the Closet. Miranda took a sip of her Pellegrino. She would feel better after she shed some blood.
Two days later Emily informed Miranda that the car was fixed and ready to be picked up from the shop. Caroline and Cassidy had begged to be allowed to go get it and Miranda had reluctantly agreed. She was more apprehensive than she should have been but the thought of her children around the very young very female person she was seeing made her sweat.
She got home that night, three nights before her date with Andrea and found her girls sitting in the den, one reading a book, the other watching TV and doing homework.
"Hey, Mom. How was work?" Cassidy asked, glancing up from her book.
"The usual," Miranda said quietly. They both looked relaxed and oblivious like they had no idea their mother had started dating a woman who could be their friend. "You picked up the car?"
"Yup, it looks good as new," Caroline said. "I told the guy to just send you the bill since we didn't have your card."
"The guy?" Miranda asked, confused.
"Yeah the guy from the shop. We met the girl who owns the place but she got a phone call and had the guy help us."
"Well, she said she had a call," Cassidy put in. "But her phone didn't ring. It was actually really weird."
Miranda almost laughed bitterly. For all her claiming she did not care about their age difference, Andrea clearly had a problem interacting with her children. "Strange. Well, did you learn your lesson?" she moved on.
Both girls nodded vehemently. "Yes, Mom."
"Good. Now, what's for dinner?" she asked, heading into the kitchen.
Miranda checked her reflection in the foyer mirror one more time. She was wearing a classic Donna Karan black dress. It reached just above her knee but there was a slit well up to mid thigh. Her cleavage was on display with the low v neck and she drew attention to it with a silver necklace, a tear drop resting between her breasts.
She kicked herself the entire time she perused her closet and even more as she made this choice and put it on. It was classic and made her look regal and powerful. It was paired with a pair of blood red Prada heels, a three inch heel and an inch platform. She hoped they would make her at least as tall as Andrea if not taller.
She'd thought of the girl often this week, too often. It infuriated her and turned her on and she was beyond frustrated tonight. She was ready to put the girl in her place tonight.
"Wow, Mom, you look smokin'."
She turned and saw Caroline descending the stairs, already in her pajamas for the night. "Thank you, Bobbsey."
"Where are you going again?"
"Drinks with a designer. I'll probably be late."
"Is this a designer an eligible man?" Caroline sassed, crossing her arms.
Miranda scoffed. "Really, Caroline, your mind runs wild with imagination."
"Mom, it's been years and years since you've dated. Cass and I are old enough now, you can go on dates if you want. In fact, I think it would be good for you."
Miranda quirked an eye brow. "Do you?"
"Yes, you deserve to have some fun."
"I have fun every day at work. And with you and your sister."
Caroline rolled her eyes. "You do not have fun at work, you work your ass off and stress out. You'll have a heart attack if you're not careful."
Miranda rolled her eyes. "I'll take that into consideration. Now, go. My car is here."
Caroline looked like she wanted to argue but she settled, reached forward to kiss her cheek and then disappeared into the kitchen.
Miranda took a breath, grabbed her purse, and swept out the door. Andrea once again stood outside her car waiting for her but this time Miranda faltered to a stop when she took in the girl.
She was wearing fitted black dress pants that hugged her form lovingly. Her short sleeve white dress shirt was tucked in, the sleeves rolled up a few times. The pants were held up with black suspenders and accentuated the killer black heels the girl was wearing. Her hair was pulled up into a slick pony tail.
She looked masculine and feminine and oh so gorgeous. Andrea walked forward and stood before her, a step down from Miranda.
"You look..." Andrea searched for a work as her eyes ran over Miranda. "Unreal."
"As do you," Miranda said quietly.
Andrea smiled at her and offered a hand, which Miranda took. Andrea led her to the car and helped her into the passenger seat.
Miranda followed Andrea with her eyes as she walked around the car and got in. "You really do look...chic."
Andrea laughed. "I may have gotten some advice."
"Really?" Miranda asked, intrigued.
"My two friends I used to live with? They're models. One of them did a shoot for Runway actually. They were the ones who filled me in on The Devil in Prada." Andrea made a pointed look at Miranda's feet.
Miranda felt she stomach swoop unpleasantly. "Your model friends who work for me know that you've taken me to dinner?"
"No, they know I worked on your car and they think I'm on a date with a fashion designer."
Miranda smiled tightly. "It seems a designer was both our covers tonight."
"Well, it's a good cover," Andrea replied conversationally.
Miranda snorted and turned forward in her seat. "So, where to this time?"
"The Village. I know a place."
Miranda found herself laughing. "Of course you do."