Chapter Seven: Willing To Learn
"A chance to learn more about baseball? But that's horrible!" Jamie Zuglowski's baby-blue eyes went wide with horror. "Andrea, how could you do this to me? Baseball is the one thing on earth I don't want to learn more about!"
"You've got a lot of nerve, buster," Andy said furiously. The two of them were hanging out in a trendy bar on the Upper West Side, not far from Columbia University. "Why don't you go back to school, if you're not interested in working?"
The beautiful blonde boy pouted. "I hate school," he sulked. "It's all giant lecture halls and professors so far away they have to use a megaphone to tell you how lucky you are to be there. And when you get up close, all they want to do is invite you to the Gay Pride rally . . . and maybe cop a feel." Suddenly his blue eyes widened with excitement. "Hey, Andy, is there any chance you could get me a job at Runway? I'd be just great at it, I know!"
"No chance in hell," Andy growled. "Any guy in his right mind would kill for the chance I just offered you. A chance to intern with Prescott Hamilton – he's only the greatest political journalist in America. And a legendary sports writer to boot!"
"Well, kiss the moon," Jamie sulked. "And anyway, if it's such a great opportunity, why don't you take it? I'll bet Prescott Hamilton is totally nuts about you. You're exactly the type older men go for, Andy. You have that innocent, little girl quality that really drives them crazy!"
"I already have a job," Andy said, a little defensively. The truth was she was afraid Miranda would be jealous if she spent more time with Prescott. There was an attraction there that the dark-eyed young beauty couldn't quite deal with yet.
Still, when she dropped the whole mess in Miranda's lap, confessing everything just before climbing into bed with her later that night, the older woman proved surprisingly reasonable.
"You see, Andrea, this is what happens when you try to be nice to people." Miranda's tone was cool and formal, as if they were back at the Runway office. But they weren't at work. They were alone together, and Miranda was in bed. And she pulled down the sheets invitingly, the intimate gesture making Andy's knees turn to jelly. "Can you promise me that you'll avoid making that mistake in the future?"
"No, I can't. I'm a hopeless softy, and you know it." Andy wasn't afraid to defy her boss. She knew that Miranda was only teasing her. The wise older woman's gray eyes twinkled with amusement as her eager young lover slipped into bed beside her.
"Of course you are, dearest. But you don't need to make it so obvious. What was Jamie doing when you first met him?"
"Uh . . . he was crying his eyes out?" Andy didn't quite understand where Miranda was going with this. But she was very aware of the older woman's nearness, and her perfume. The light, floral scent made it hard for her to think.
"Exactly!" The older woman turned out the light, sliding close and letting her cool soft hands explore Andrea's slim young body. "What Jamie was really doing was manipulating you, Andrea. He turns on the tears, and you run to help. And now that he knows it works, he'll do it again and again."
"Again and again," Andy whispered. Miranda's hands felt so good sliding over her firm young breasts. It aroused her and soothed her at the same time. "So . . . you think helping Jamie is just a waste of time?"
"I think the young man needs a lesson," Miranda purred, enjoying the way Andy's nipples stiffened under her stroking fingers. "And I think I know just the person to give it to him. How would you like to take your new pet with you when you do your first interview for Runway magazine?"
"Miranda! But I don't – I'm not – are you sure I'm ready?"
"I'm sure you're willing to learn," the older woman chuckled. Miranda's hands moved lower, deeper, caressing her young lover intimately, while her tongue replaced her stroking fingers.
"I am sooo willing to learn." Andy closed her eyes and surrendered gratefully to Miranda's touch, allowing the older woman to sweep away all her doubts and fears.