Title: Corruption, Purity and Desire
Disclaimer: The Devil Wears Prada does not belong to me. No infringement intended to Lauren Weisberger and 20th Century Fox. All characters are purely fictional. Thanks to various crime fiction for the inspiration behind the dialogue.
Summary: Two and a half years after leaving Runway; Andy Sachs is now working as an investigative journalist for a New York newspaper. Miranda Priestly continues her reign as The New York Fashion Queen, but under the surface the cracks are beginning to form. The unfortunate events of one cold winter’s evening force them to face the unrelenting demon that hides in the shadows. When do you run and when do you stand your ground?
WARNING: There are some scenes of violence and heavy language. If you are easily offended or squeamish I DO NOT suggest that you read this!
A/N: Eternal thanks and undying love to my beta punky_96 . You are full of win bb!
A/N2: So because I am totally retard. I accidentally deleted chapter twelve when I was doing some editing and now I can’t get it back. Here it is reposted. For those who read the previous entry, don’t worry you aren’t going crazy! I have had to cut the final scene on this chapter and move it to the opening of chapter thirteen because it was just too big for the post after I’d finished editing.
Shots rang out from behind her as she reached the edge of the car park, concrete shards sprayed off the building wall as she rounded the corner. Seeing the lights ahead of her, the beautiful stained glass windows fifty yards ahead, she felt another stab of pain seer through her body, throwing her to the ground. As the footsteps approached, growing louder with each step
“No, no, no…”
The black cloaked figure loomed over her. The barrel burned like fire as he pressed it to her forehead,
“Why?” She screamed at the top of her voice. “Why?”
He cocked the hammer; the mechanical sound was unmistakable. There was no-where to run, it was over….
Miranda woke with a start as a short, sharp pain clinched her hip. Slightly disorientated after being ripped from her deep sleep, it took her a couple of seconds to organise her thoughts.
She could feel the weight and the warmth of Andrea’s body pressed tightly against her, with her head resting gently on her breast. She opened her eyes to see the long brown locks spread across her chest. Andrea’s left arm rested on Miranda’s stomach, and her hand gripped tightly around her hip. A second dig of the fingernails was accompanied by gentle whimpering and Miranda knew that she was dreaming.
“Andrea? Andrea, wake up.” Miranda spoke softly as she stroked her back.
Andy woke suddenly, gasping as if she was fighting for air. Disorientated, it took her a few minutes to realise where she was. She felt arms tighten around her body, rocking her gently. The familiar scent filled her senses and the soft repetition of her name pulled her from the grip of the nightmare, gradually her heartbeat began to slow.
‘It was just a dream; it was just a dream.’ She chanted to herself. She was safe, safe in Miranda’s arms.
Andy buried her head at the curve of Miranda’s breast and arm for a couple seconds. “I’m sorry.” Andy mumbled, still hiding her face as she fought to compose herself.
Miranda released her grip and moved on to her side so that she could face Andrea. “No-one can hurt you now.” She whispered as she stroked her face.
As the sun streamed through the gaps in the blinds, Miranda found that couldn’t take her eyes off Andrea’s flawless skin, hypnotised, as it glowed in the early morning light.
Caught in Miranda’s gaze, Andy could hear nothing but the sound of their breathing. Falling into those azure eyes Andy leaned forward, claiming Miranda’s lips for her own. Miranda filled her sense and washed away the nightmare.
The kiss was slow and gentle, yet filled with promise. A soft moan escaped Andy’s lips as Miranda’s hand slid down her back until it was resting on bare skin, under her nightshirt.
Miranda broke the kiss and moved her lips to Andrea’s jaw line and neck. Hearing her moan again sent shivers down Miranda’s spine. She felt her own nipples harden and wet heat pool between her legs. She pushed Andrea gently on to her back as desire took over. Banishing all the insecurities from her mind, she unbuttoned the cotton nightshirt, and began slowly kissing the exposed skin that each button revealed. It was the first time she had seen Andrea’s wound since the hospital. The stitches were covered with clean white padding, but the distressing bruising ran from her clavicle, down to her breast and round her side.
Andy saw the concerned look on Miranda’s face. “It’s ok.” She reassured as she brought Miranda’s hand to her mouth and kissed her fingers tenderly.
Spurred on, Miranda continued using those same fingers to trail lightly over Andrea’s taut stomach, committing every inch to memory. The muscles clenched in anticipation, as fingers slipped below the waistband and slowly pulled at the drawstring holding the small cotton shorts in place.
Andy felt the pleasure shooting between her thighs as Miranda began to tease the shorts from her hips, her body begging for more. She ran her hand down Miranda’s body, lifting the exquisite silk and lace nightgown, revealing the soft porcelain skin beneath.
Unabashedly Miranda pulled it the rest of the way, avoiding the awkward stretch it would have imposed on Andrea’s shoulder.
Staring into each other’s eyes, no words were required. Want and need took over, superseding all else. Both women wanted this. Both women needed this.
Andy covered Miranda’s mouth with her own, savouring every slip of her tongue. She moved her hand to cup Miranda’s breast.
Miranda arched her back into the touch and moaned as Andrea’s fingers pinched the hard-pebbled nipple. It was not nearly enough, Andy needed to lick, to taste, to devour every inch of Miranda’s body.
“Oh God…” Miranda moaned as Andrea moved on top of her and took her nipple into her mouth, circling it playfully with her tongue. Moving from one side to the other, she then began her slow teasing descent down her body.
Andy paid no mind to the flashes of pain in her shoulder, a mixture of desire and adrenalin taking over. She knew that she would pay for this later, but none of that mattered now—she was about to go down on Miranda Priestly. The woman she had been dreaming of day and night for the past two years. The woman she was in love with.
Miranda spread her legs as Andrea slid between them. Her body arched in pleasure as she felt the tongue run along her hip and down to the inside of her thigh. The editor’s hands gripped Andrea’s head, tangling her fingers in her hair. She could feel the hot breath pulsing against her center. “Please…” Miranda begged.
Andy could feel the anticipation of the past few days throb between her thighs as she looked up at Miranda. “Look at me…” Andy whispered. Miranda opened her eyes; they were dark and drunk with desire.
Miranda watched the devilish smirk grow on Andrea’s face before she buried her head between her thighs. Andrea’s eyes continued to stare her down, daring her to look away. “Uhhhhh…” Miranda cried out as Andrea took one, long, slow swipe with her tongue. It was as if she knew instinctively what Miranda wanted, where to touch her, how to touch her. The sheer intensity of her eyes was burning into her soul. Miranda didn’t want to consider how Andrea had gained these skills, but she was certainly indebted to them.
Andrea wrapped her arms around Miranda’s thighs spreading her wider. Her tongue pressed against Miranda’s clit, eliciting a deep, carnal moan from her lips. She began to circle and tease, adding more pressure until she could feel Miranda’s hips and abdomen undulating with each stroke.
Miranda tensed every muscle in her body as she felt the orgasm wash over her. She threw her head back and gripped on to the sheets as the wave rushed through her body. “Oh… Fuckkkk!” She cried out in desperation, unable to recall the last time she had come so hard.
It took as couple of moments for Miranda to regain her senses and control of her limbs. “Come here.” She called as she reached down for Andrea.
Andy winced as she moved to get up. “I might need a little help.” She laughed, but spoke through clenched teeth. “Ouch.”
“Did I hurt you?” Miranda’s brow furrowed as she sat to help a rather ungraceful Andrea back up the bed.
“No. Of course not. I’m just not exactly at my true physical peak.” Andy kissed Miranda as they lay back down together.
Miranda could taste herself on Andrea’s tongue; it was different but not unpleasant.
Andy rested her head on Miranda’s breast as Miranda wrapped her arms around her. “Miranda?”
“Hmmm?” She answered dreamily.
“Did you just curse?”
A smile spread across Miranda’s face. “There is a time and a place for everything.” She laughed. Pulling Andrea back to her lips, a euphoric feeling rushed through her, the thought that she could spend everyday like this.
Miranda ran her hand down Andrea’s body, grabbing her ass; she pulled her firmly against her. Their kisses deepened once more, growing fiercely intense as tongues battled for dominance.
Andy sucked Miranda’s bottom lip between her teeth as she moved to straddle her hips. “Touch me.” Andy pleaded against Miranda’s lips. Andy raised herself slightly, allowing Miranda to move her hand between her thighs and into her slick velvet folds.
Though she'd never been with a woman before, Miranda knew how she liked to be touched and could tell from the sounds Andrea was making and the way her body was responding that she was doing something right. Miranda slipped a finger inside of Andrea and she cried out for more. She gripped her free hand around Andrea’s hip, anchoring her lover against her and gladly obliged with her request. Grinding her palm against her clit, Andrea rode her hand, harder and faster, thrusting Miranda’s fingers as deep as they would go.
Miranda watched in awe as Andrea dropped her head back, eyes closed. Sweat glistened on her body and her stomach muscles contracted as she moved. Incoherent whispers escaped her lips. It was intoxicating. As she came, Miranda felt the explosion surge through Andrea’s entire body.
Andy sighed contently and slowly opened her eyes. “Would it be clichéd if I started quoting scripture?” she spoke still panting.
Miranda gently withdrew her fingers and rested both hands on Andrea’s hips. “What on earth are you talking about?”
“I think I just saw the face of God!” She breathed.
Andrea’s stone-faced comment received a particularly exasperated eye roll from Miranda. “Well, I have been known to make people pray.” Miranda dead-panned, fighting to keep a straight face.
She looked into Andrea’s eyes and they both cracked at the same time, laughing like two naughty school children.
Andy lifted from her position and rested her body against Miranda’s. After several moments of relaxed silence, Andy lifted her head and looked into Miranda’s eyes, pushing a rebellious strand of hair from the editor’s eye. “Do you regret anything?”
Miranda stroked Andrea’s face gently. “Only that we didn’t do this sooner.”
The morning sunlight streamed through the gaps in the blinds and particles of untamed dust danced freely in the waves of light. District Attorney Sharpe’s office was dark, cloaked in a veil of mahogany. It was something that she had despised since inheriting it by default from the previous D.A. Three years after moving in she still hadn’t found the time or the motivation to do anything about it.
Her desk was in its usual state of organised chaos, crime scene photos, files and papers covered every inch of the surface and empty coffee cups balanced precariously on the edge; the paper and plastic trophies of another all-nighter in the office.
After reading the same line for what must have been the tenth time, Sharpe snapped the file shut. She ran her fingers absently over the name of the label on the cover as the unanswered questions continued to rush through her mind. Flicking through her address book, she found the number she required.
“Miranda Priestly’s office.” Announced the young woman on the line.
“This is District Attorney Sharpe. I’d like a meeting with Miranda as soon as possible.” She requested.
Miranda’s morning had started out better that she could have anticipated. The traffic had seemed lighter than usual, the elevator had been waiting for her as she arrived in the lobby, and her coffee had been the perfect temperature.
Leaving Andrea at home had been difficult. They had made so much progress in the last twenty-four hours; breaking through countless emotional and physical barriers. But, with London Fashion Week just a couple of days away there were some important decisions to be made and so, with a heavy heart she had left Andrea in her bed and had gone to face the day.
She floated into her office with her bodyguard in tow, launching her bag and coat on to Carrie’s desk with the usual flare before she proceeded into her office.
Emily rolled her eyes at the hopeless second assistant before falling into step behind Miranda and waiting for the morning onslaught to begin.
“Well?” Miranda spat impatiently.
Emily managed to hold back the flash of annoyance at Miranda’s impatience. ‘I’m not a fucking mind reader Miranda! She thought, but quickly moved past her urge to throw a tantrum and jumped into her update. “District Attorney Sharpe has requested an urgent meeting. I’ve pushed the accessories run-through back to three-forty-five to accommodate her. Smith, Hoffman and Peterson have sent over another set of legal papers for you to sign." Emily watched intently as Miranda bristled at the mention of the attorneys. "They said, and I quote: ‘You will not be disappointed.’ Dalton has confirmed that they have received this week’s assignment from the girls and asked if you require next week’s curriculum also.”
Miranda did not speak for a long time after the update and so Emily waited for her dismissal. Leaving without it was like jumping out of a perfectly good airplane without a parachute. If she was lucky, she would receive a clear ‘That’s all.’ Unfortunately, more often than not, it would be little more than a flick of the eyebrow, something only the trained eye could spot.
“Close the door and sit down.” Miranda instructed.
Emily’s heart began to race as she ran through all the possible reasons why she would want her to close the door. It was usual practise to fire employees with the door open. A public show of tears and humiliation were par for the course. Closing the door meant something much more serious and Emily didn’t know if she had the strength for this today.
“I will not be attending London Fashion week…” Miranda announced.
Those words instantly made Emily consider ending it all, right there and then.
“… I will need you to meet with Nigel to re-arrange the schedule where you see fit. I will require twice-daily updates from each show, the press junkets and any important after-events. I’d like you to meet with Devereaux this afternoon for a fitting, I will not have my representative wearing closet cast-offs to the second biggest event of the year. Is that clear?”
Emily’s jaw was almost on the floor. “Pardon?” She stammered.
“Emily, are you listening to me? You know how I loathe repeating myself.” Miranda sighed.
“Are you sending me to London?” She asked, not quite sure if she heard correctly.
“What part of my instructions was unclear? Are you hearing impaired?”
“No, no. I understand. I just…” Emily gripped the arms on her chair as the excitement and shock threatened to take over. “Oh my god! It’s…”
Miranda cut Emily off mid-sentence to continue her musings. “I think that when you return we will talk about your future with Runway Magazine and where we feel you will be most suited.”
Emily felt the news rushing over her in waves. ‘This must be what heaven feels like?’ She buzzed, but then, the sinking feeling of reality crept up on her. “What about you?” She worried. “Do you think Carrie is ready?”
“Yes, well that girl is mentally challenged. However, I trust that you have trained her well, either way you will only be a phone call away.” Miranda smiled.
“Miranda, I don’t know how I can begin thank you for this opportunity.”
“No need. Just do your job. That’s all.” Miranda turned her attention to the papers on her desk and Emily took her clear cue to leave.
Sharpe soaked in the lush corporate surroundings as she exited the elevator. The sea of white was clinical yet oddly peaceful. The lack of warmth from the staff, however, was most disturbing. After being looked up and down more times than a suspect in a line-up at the county jail, she felt like she needed a good boost of self-esteem.
A snooty redhead, whom she knew to be Emily, offered to take her coat before tossing it unceremoniously to a rather scared looking young woman opposite. As she looked round the room she clocked the two dashingly-handsome, private security guards who were sat discreetly in the corner watching everyone and everything.
Miranda stood to greet Sharpe as Emily led her into the office. Her eyes scanned the District Attorney’s attire and she nodded in approval before directing her to take a seat. A nod from the fashion queen herself was quite a remarkable feeling, especially considering she hadn’t changed her clothes in over twenty hours. But, Armani was Armani and Miranda clearly appreciated a simple, tailored cut.
“Thank you for agreeing to see me at such short notice, Miranda.”
Miranda waited for Emily to close the door before she began. “Let’s get straight to the point, shall we?” Miranda raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Why are you here?”
Sharpe smiled at the directness. “I want to know what your involvement is in this case.”
“I’m sure that is none of your business!” Miranda irked.
“You see Miranda, that’s where you are wrong. This is my case and I need answers. I risked my neck to get you that tape. You may feel that you didn’t give me an option, but I won’t be threatened. I did it because I respect you. If you have even an ounce of respect for me you will tell me everything you know.” Sharpe folded her arms and waited for her answer.
Miranda shook her head and laughed at the preposterous insinuation of her involvement. “Do you honestly think that I had anything to do with this mess?”
“Hell Miranda, I just don’t know anymore. There are too many questions and not enough answers. Why Andrea?”
“What makes you think I have any of these answers? Surely you should go to the source.”
“How do I know that you aren’t the source?” Sharpe challenged.
Miranda pursed her lips in frustration. “Of that I am sure. I have nothing to do with the case.”
“Why did you go to her that night?” She pushed.
“For heavens sake Beatrice, she had been shot! She was lying alone in a hospital bed. Why do you think I went to her?”
“I saw the article.” Sharpe added.
Miranda exhaled loudly. “You disappoint me, I thought of you as a hard facts and figures woman, not one to pay attention to such distasteful gossip.”
“Where there’s smoke there’s fire.” Sharpe goaded.
Standing on either side of the glass desk, the two women stared each other down in what they both knew to be a pointless battle.
Sharpe was the first to relent. “Look Miranda. I want more than anything to believe that you have nothing to do with this, but this is my world and I can’t protect you if you don’t talk to me.”
Miranda moved from behind her desk and walked to the window, scanning the New York skyline as she tried to organise her thoughts. Andrea was her involvement, pure and simple. Just like the incident with Curran, she had not fully considered the implications of her actions before now. She was caught in something that was bigger than she was and for first the time in a long time, she felt like the situation was out of her control. She really had no choice but to tell Sharpe everything.
Sharpe had waited a couple of minutes before joining Miranda at the window and standing at her side in silence. She understood that patience was a virtue. “This is strictly off the record.” Sharpe assured.
“It took me a long time to admit it.” Miranda began. “But from the very first time I met her I knew she was different. She walked in here, full of promise and youthful ebullience; it was sickening.” Miranda continued to stare out of the window, as if the skyline offered the answers. “I tried to break her, to shape and mould her into a Runway clone. I soon realised she was so much more than that. She challenged me, she made me feel alive and I knew she had a great future ahead of her.”
“What happened?” Sharpe probed.
Miranda shook her head. “It’s complicated.”
“I won’t judge you Miranda.”
Having only just come to terms with her feelings for Andrea, Miranda knew that this conversation would be difficult for her. However, she was feeling an odd sense of liberation as the truth spilled from her lips. “She saw the demon. One day I went too far and I lost her. Of course at the time I was too stubborn to see what I’d done, too blind to admit that she meant anything to me. Looking back, I can tell you I was heartbroken.” Miranda turned to face Sharpe. “Do you believe in fate?” She asked pointedly.
Sharpe studied Miranda’s face. Raw emotion and vulnerability spilled out of every pore, it was unnerving and refreshing all at once.
“Yes, I do.” She answered.
“I didn’t, but I think I do now. I think that everything happens for a reason. That night was the first time I had seen her for nearly two years and unexpectedly I was given a second chance. I’d never been so scared in all my life, but I took it.”
They stood in companionable silence for several minutes before Sharpe placed her hand on Miranda’s arm and smiled. “Thank you for being honest.”
Miranda kept her gaze fixed out of the window. “I trust that this will not go any further?” She asked coldly.
“Of course” Sharpe agreed. “Unfortunately, I still need to find the answers to these missing pieces.” She sighed.
“Andrea is at the townhouse.” Miranda stated. “I’ll let you her know that you are on your way.”
Andy heard the door open and close, then the faint murmurings of a polite conversation growing closer. Her phone call with Miranda had been brief, simply to relay that the D.A was on her way to ask her some more questions and that if she needed her that she should call immediately. But, she had sounded distracted and it had left Andy concerned about the level of impact her presence was having on Miranda’s work.
“Miss. Sachs, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” Sharpe smiled as she was shown into the study.
“Please call me Andy.” Andy stood and led them to the couch.
“How has your rehabilitation been coming along? You look well.”
“It hasn’t exactly been a walk in the park, but I’m getting there. Miranda informs me that you would like to ask some questions. I’m quite sure I told Captain Moore everything about the night, but I’d be happy to help where I can.”
“I don’t doubt that Andy, I just have a few points I’d like to clear up. I don’t know about you but I always like to know the bigger picture, so I want to understand everything about the events leading up to that night. Most importantly, to try and understand why they chose you. Do you mind if I record our conversation?”
Andy shook her head as they both took a seat.
Sharpe pressed record and opened her flip pad. “Can you tell me how you ended up in that car that night?”
“I suppose the correct answer would be, because I’m an idiot.”
Sharpe smiled. “Hindsight sure is a bastard, isn’t it?” She offered as consolation and watched Andy’s smile practically light up the room. She could see what Miranda had meant when she’d described her meeting the girl. “Why don’t you tell me from the start, how did you get involved in this case.”
“I had been working on a series of seemingly random crime stories that spanned throughout the city. At first, I didn’t see the link, there was no obvious connection. It wasn’t until the Rodriguez case, that I started to put it together. There were endless cases with incomplete evidence, ballistics that didn’t make sense, eye witness testimonies that didn’t corroborate with the police officer statements. Lucian Hernando another one that didn’t add up landed on my doorstep on the very morning that all this happened.”
“Why didn’t you contact I.A?” Sharpe questioned.
“I’m not a cop, I’m journalist. Besides, I wouldn’t have known whom to trust.”
“What about the call?” She added.
“You mean from the cop?” Andy asked and Sharpe nodded. ”I’ve had a lot of time to think about this, I don’t know if O’Hanlon actually asked for me or whether it was because I was on duty and therefore drew the short straw. Cynthia knew I was covering the crime desk with Derek Collins and I know that she thinks Collins is an ass so she wouldn’t have passed any leads to him, out of principal. So I don’t know if I got the call by default. But, it still seems pretty sus’ though, huh?”
“Why didn’t you tell Captain Moore any of this?”
“He didn’t ask me. He just wanted my version of events on the night. You know, whose car I was in and what the cop said to me, whether I saw the shooter, that type of stuff.”
“What about your Editor? The notes said it was his car that you took.”
“Yeah, it’s actually more of a pool car but it’s in Eddie’s name. I told that to Captain Moore and I assumed he would be interviewed as well. But, what I didn’t mention was that we are not supposed to go out alone. A couple of years back, one of the guys was beaten and robbed while following up on a story.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” She asked, intrigued by Andrea admittance.
“Miranda was in the room when the Captain was asking me the questions. I knew it was pretty stupid thing to do and to be honest I…”
“I understand.” She interrupted. “You didn’t want to have to explain yourself.”
“Exactly.” Andy confirmed bashfully.
So why did you go alone?” Sharpe pressed.
“Have you ever felt like you were invincible? I’ve never known real fear. I guess I didn’t know I was supposed to be scared of it.”
Sharpe looked into Andy’s eyes. “Sometimes, we learn the hard way.” She offered empathetically before looking down at her notes. “What is your relationship like with your Editor?”
Andy shook her head and laughed. “If you had asked me that question a couple of weeks ago I would have told you that he was my mentor, someone that aspired to be and a real father figure.”
“Did you see what he did?” She laughed incredulously.
Sharpe’s brow furrowed in confusion and she shook her head.
“That tabloid tat, that he ran about me and Miranda?”
“Oh yes. I saw it.” She confirmed and allowed Andy to continue.
“He is just unreal. He didn’t come to see me in the hospital, he hasn’t returned my calls and now he has published these destructive and heartless comments about Miranda. I get it, she hurt his ego, but she did it to protect me. He didn’t need to do this.”
Sharpe underlined Eddie Curran’s name several times on her notepad. “Why do you think he hasn’t contacted you?”
“I don’t know why he didn’t call originally. But now it’s pretty obvious that it’s because Miranda is about to rain down the fires of hell on him.”
“Did he have any involvement in your articles?”
“Sure, he is the Editor in Chief; he gets final sign off on everything that goes in the paper. Plus, he came up through the crime desk. In the early days a lot of my contacts and sources were supplied by him. Like I said, he was a real mentor to me. I think that’s why this feels like such a betrayal.”
“What about Miranda?”
“What about her?” Andy asked, suddenly feeling very defensive.
“How is she involved?” Sharpe saw the defensive walls go up but knew she had to push through.
“She has nothing to do with this. In fact, I think she is the only good thing to have come out of this for me, I wish we could have met again under better circumstances but everything happens for a reason, right?”
“That’s the second time I’ve heard that today.” Sharpe smiled warmly and closed her flip pad. “Thank you for taking the time to talk to me Andy, it has been really useful.”
“I’m glad I could be of use.” She answered politely.
“In my line of work questions do tend to pop up, as I’m sure they do in yours. So I may return if necessary.” Sharpe summarized.
“Anytime.” Andy flashed her thousand watt smile and bid the D.A farewell.
As Sharpe walked back to her car, she flicked through her notes once more. Eddie Curran... He seemed more interesting by the second.
Miranda reclined in her chair and kicked off her heels. She dialled the familiar number and mentally prepared to have to explain herself and her actions for the second time that day, it was not something she was used to.
“Hi, Mom.” Caroline greeted as she picked up the call.
“Hello, sweetheart. Is your sister with you?” Miranda heard the click of the speakerphone, before being greeted by her second Daughter.
“Hi, Mom. Did Daddy call you last night?” The two girls chorused.
“Yes, he did. He said you had some concerns.” Miranda confirmed.
“No.” Caroline scoffed. “He had the concerns.”
“Had a fit more like!” Cassidy chimed in.
“I see. And what about you? How do you both feel?”
“Is it true?” They asked in unison.
“It’s true that Andrea was hurt by some bad people and she had no-one to take care of her. Therefore, I asked her to come and stay at the townhouse. But you already knew this; we talked about this and that’s why I wanted you to stay with your Father.”
“What about the other stuff?” They pushed.
Miranda knew straight away which ‘other stuff’ they were referring to. “What did your father say?”
“Mom! We are thirteen, not Amish!” Miranda couldn’t help but smile as she imagined the twin sapphire blues and the trademark Priestly eye-roll that would have accompanied their statement.
“Andrea is very special to me. I’d like both of you to get to know her.”
Again, they spoke in unison. “What if we don’t like her?”
Miranda could tell that they had been through this conversation between themselves and rehearsed what they were going to say. But over the past few days, she too had agonised over how she would even approach the subject. It seemed for once, the media had done her a small favor. “We will deal with that when you come home.” She answered.
“We think it’s time we came home.” Cassidy added.
“Do you? What did you think my response to that statement would be?” Miranda knew that this answer would also be rehearsed and pondered her need to take notes as she quite often did whenever they used this two prong approach.
Cassidy launched the onslaught. “Well first of all, we knew you would be all like totally over-dramatic about safety and how it is an unnecessary risk…”
“…but that’s what you’ve got a bodyguard for, right?” Caroline added as she took over seamlessly from Cassidy like a two man relay team. “We’re missing you like crazy and we miss our friends…” Caroline passed the baton back to Cassidy.
And Cassidy continued “…and we feel that the lack of a classroom based environment has been detrimental to our studies...”
Miranda could just imagine the look on their faces as they successfully delivered each point and it suddenly made her miss them even more than she already was.
“…And now that you are not going to London this weekend, well it’s been nice to spend the holidays with Daddy, but his cook is terrible and his new girlfriend’s perfume gives Cassidy terrible migraines.” Caroline protested.
Miranda scribbled a few words on to a note and beckoned Emily silently into her office as she listened to Cassidy take the final stretch of their speech down the home straight.
“…We know you miss us too. So in summary, we feel it would be better for everyone if we simply came home.”
Miranda smiled into the phone. “Let me think about it, my darlings.”
After sitting down at her desk, Emily examined the note and released an exasperated sigh: Girls. home. Tomorrow!