It's the Only Life You've Got…

Arc II …before you know it, it could be gone

Author: raiderL
Fandom: The Devil Wears Prada (movie)
Pairing: Miranda/Andrea
Rating: M (or 18 or NC-17, take your pick) – certain sections are NSFW – If you are under 18 years of age hit the back button now; by reading you agree that you are of age and allowed to read mature subject matter.
A/N #1: This is a sequel to "It's the Only Life You've Got… Arc I…so you just better live it" Currently there are eleven chapters written and I'm not sure how many more will follow for this arc; the first few chapters will be posted quickly over the span of about a week but the latter chapters may take a little longer as they are still needing to be beta'd.
A/N#2: There be things here: toys, mild bondage, sensation play, oh and some more spanking that may not be everyone's cuppa; but it's all consensual, it's all in fun and they really do love each other – plus it's not the main focus of the story. Perhaps you may classify it as warm and fuzzy kink? Also, this could be called a Hurt/Comfort story with some angst, but at its core it's really just a love story.
A/N#3: I research a goodly amount of the items, locations, even procedural kind of things that I may reference or use in my writing. However, that doesn't mean that I won't take license with it if I feel it suits the greater good (aka, The Plot). So, if you read it and happen to be an expert in that field or have a knowledge of it and find yourself saying, "That's not how it really is." Well, in this particular universe, it just might be. That doesn't mean I'm going to abuse your trust and completely break the laws of physics or that I would not welcome your comments on anything particularly glaring; I've come to realize that I am really a true student of life and any opportunity to learn and grow is always welcome!
A/N#4: I apologize in advance to all of the readers whose language of birth is French; English is my first and, in spite of three years of French in high school (and a rather unfortunate propensity for dyslexia), only, language of proficiency. So, I've relied on my rudimentary knowledge of sentence structure and a web-based translator. Please forgive me (Veuillez me pardoner?).

Prologue

Andy stared distractedly into space until a tinny voice interrupted her thoughts; she moved the glass panel of her iPhone towards her ear at the same time as her eyes skittered across the computer monitor, scanning the product of her labor.

"Hey Doug; you got a minute? Cool. Huh? You can tell by my voice? Sorry, it's not you. Okay, well yeah, I'm a bit tired but mainly it's because I've been sitting here for over an hour trying to make yet another mind-numbingly boring topic sound interesting. It's due in an hour and… yeah, I might as well be in kindergarten."

"Listen, I just emailed you a clarifying question regarding that certain matter I've been working on… Yeah. If you could look it over and get back to me I'd really appreciate it… Okay… yeah, soon; I'd really like that, Cuban-Chinese food would be great!… Okay, I'll check my email later, thanks! Bye!"

Andy Sachs, junior reporter for the New York Daily Mirror, was working on a plan to remove from her career path the endless parade of filler-only assignments that dulled her brain and her enthusiasm for her chosen profession.

A lead on a story was brought to her by her best bud Doug, who, as an accountant in a large Manhattan firm, had recently become privy to an embezzlement scheme of the community coffers by a borough council member. The prosecutor's office was currently conducting a very low-profile investigation and they were getting ready to go to the grand jury; Andy had been doing her own discrete research over the past week and had everything she needed to write the story, in fact it was nearly complete and she planned on bringing it to Greg in the next day or two. The trick was going to be the timing, she didn't want to interfere with the investigation but she knew that for it to garner the most impact it would need to run just before or directly after the announcement. But that wasn't her call. She bit her lower lip and hoped that her boss would finally see that she was ready for the next level.

She knew she was ready and was prepared to go elsewhere if she didn't begin to see some progress. Andy understood that she was still relatively new in the industry but she had plenty of experience now and was no longer content to wait. Conversations with her new lover had also helped to give her a perspective that she had been missing prior to…had it only been a month?

The young woman twirled her office chair lightly and shook her head. Unbelievable! How is that possible? It seemed much longer than the mere four weeks it had actually been since she had run into Miranda Priestly, Editor in Chief of Runway magazine and CEO of Elias Clarke Publications, at Nigel's holiday party. From there they had embarked upon what Andy knew to be a life-changing event; Miranda was the love of her life and now that she realized it she was going to do everything in her power to help the other woman believe it too.

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Later that same day but much deeper into the evening the object of Andy's earlier musings sat in her study deep within her own contemplation of recent events.

It's been exactly one month since I happened upon Andrea at Nigel's annual party. Thirty days to roll my entire world end over end. If someone were to tell me two months ago that I would be involved with a woman twenty-two years my junior I would have, at the very least, ordered their professional execution at dawn.

Now. Well. Now I have placed myself in a very precarious position; one that leaves me vulnerable in many ways. At least my girls, specifically Caroline, are no longer opposed to the situation; I believe they are perhaps becoming happy that this woman is now in my life which is more than I could dare hope.

Hope. I once told someone, Andrea I believe, that I lived on it. What one hopes for changes over time; for myself I've found that what is hoped for has simplified. If only my life could be so; it has been so incredibly frustrating to be unable to spend as much time with this incredible creature as I would like. When I am with her it is as if my focus narrows to that space that contains only us; it is as if nothing else in the world matters. When we're apart I find it very difficult at times to school my attention back to whatever task is before me when I've found myself remembering the softness of a breast beneath my lips or her unique taste. I've never been this distracted by or focused upon a lover. It is exhilarating, frightening and professionally inconvenient.

I so love contradictions and here I am, finding that I am not immune to them. My sister will have a very good laugh at me whenever I next speak with her.

Miranda sat back and sighed. Never mind her sister, the world will be laughing; a middle-aged woman taking up with her former assistant, could she be any more cliché? Oh, and she could just imagine the Post headlines: "Dragon Lady Preys on Young" or "The Wicked Witch Snags Dorothy?" She rubbed her tired eyes and shook her head, she was handing every last blood-sucking media whore, a gift. The silver haired woman grinned ruefully because when it came down to it, it didn't matter, whatever happened, happened. If the choice was Andrea or her reputation, she was beginning to understand that she'd probably choose the younger woman every time.

Chapter One

"Hi Andy, come on in!" Cassidy grabbed her coat sleeve and tugged, letting go when the young woman crossed the threshold and stamped the rapidly melting snow off her feet. The latter half of December's trend towards cold and snowy had only intensified as January settled in.

"Is your mom home yet Cass?" Andy pulled off her wool gloves and dragged the hat from her head.

Cassidy stared at the static mess of dark brown hair and snickered. "Nice look there, mom's gonna love it."

Andy rolled her eyes at the impertinent child and swung the damp wool against a scrawny arm. "Nice one munchkin.'"

"Hey!"

"Yeah, you started it; good thing there's a mirror handy." They both chuckled good-naturedly.

"You're just lucky she's not here yet, you've got some time." The girl grinned evilly. "You're so going to need it!" She squealed and ran as Andy made a quick snowball with the snow melting off her boot and mimicked a lobbing throw.

Some moments later, Cassidy having fled to the upper floors, and after having tamed the wild beast, Andy made her way to the kitchen where Cara was busy at the stove. "Hi." She waved a half wave. "I know we've crossed paths a hundred times but we've never been properly introduced, I'm Andy." Cara looked over her shoulder at the young woman who had made such an impact in the overall mood of her household, and smiled.

"Hello Andy, it's good to finally meet you." The thin, older woman with short, dark gray hair put a large stirring spoon to rest on the stove and wiped her hands on her apron, turning to meet Andy's outstretched hand. Cara had been tending to her mother, recovering from pneumonia, and had not been at the townhouse on the occasions that Andy had been over.

The two women chatted for several minutes and a glass of wine was offered and accepted when the front door was heard to be opened, heralding the clacking of a very unique pattern on the entrance hall floor. The smile that stretched across Andrea's face gave the housekeeper a sudden pause; she could see what drew her employer to the girl and she was glad for her. Of all of the assistants she had seen come and go through the doors this one had stood out for her warmth and genuine spirit.

Andy excused herself and met her lover half way through the study. The question in her eyes about how demonstrative they were going to be in front of Cara was quickly answered as she was swept up in arms that circled her waist and a kiss that nearly bruised in its intensity.

Holy crap but I love this woman! Andy thanked the universe again that she was lucky enough to be the focus of such adoring affection and caressed the soft lips below hers. When they pulled back her eyes met the steely blue filled with warmth and not a little heat. "Hello beautiful." Andy murmured and she glimpsed the sudden surprise that slightly widened those eyes before returning to a more placid state. She was reminded once again that the editor was not used to thinking of herself as beautiful and sorrowed at the thought.

Miranda continued the light embrace and regarded Andrea closely, her cynical heart seeking out any sign of insincerity and finding, to her continual surprise, none. The girl truly believed in her perceptions. Amazing. And then she found that her mouth was moving without censure, "I've missed you." Expressing her need and vulnerability despite a lifetime of near ascetic practice.

It had been a week since the women last saw one another, Tuesday night dinners with her girls the only reprieve as the demands of the editor's schedule required she spend nearly every waking moment involved in some sort of work related duty. Miranda felt depleted, craving of the other woman's touch. They had not had the opportunity to be physically intimate since New Year's day two weeks prior and she was beginning to feel slightly mad due to the lack.

They had yet to relinquish their hold on one another and the light stroking of Andrea's hands on her back and sides was teasing dangerous thoughts to the surface. She wanted to drag the girl up to her bedroom, lock the door and not surface for a week, month; no, forever. She inhaled sharply as the sound of running twelve year olds clomped down the steps and suddenly reached in and stole a sharp kiss. "Soon." She whispered. Those warm, brown eyes melted into a bright smile and she grabbed the now quiescent hands and squeezed.

Andy had watched the subtle play of emotions flit across the other woman's face, reading the exhaustion, frustration, desire and near desperation knowing that surely Miranda had seen the same mirrored back. The only reason she had not stayed the week prior was because she had an early morning interview in Harlem and there was no way she'd be able to make it back to her apartment, get ready and be on time and it was still too new to just disappear on the girls before their bedtime behind a closed bedroom door. The prior weekend Miranda had been required in Los Angeles; it was crazy the schedule the woman kept and frustrating. The only thing that soothed was knowing that the editor hated it just as much, if not more.

"Hi Andy!" Caroline gave the reporter a slight wave as she passed by on her way to the kitchen, her sister hot on her heels, and the two women, hand in hand, moved to follow.

Dinner was comfortable as conversation between the four drifted over many topics. The twins, especially Caroline, after her initial anger and disbelief, were settling into the idea that the reporter was going to be around, much to Miranda's relief.

"I'll be here on Friday at six o'clock to pick you up Caroline." Andy was fulfilling her Christmas gift of a concert or theatrical production of the girls' choice. Miley Cyrus, which had caused a considerable internal groan when Caroline had made the initial declaration, was on her agenda now and she was only hoping it wouldn't be as excruciating as she was imagining.

"I can't wait!" If Caroline had a tail it would surely be wagging in wide, happy arcs at that moment. "This is going to be so cool! All my friends are jealous since it was sold out. How'd you get the tickets?"

Andy grinned with a sparkle in her eye. "I have my ways; you don't have to think about that, just enjoy yourself." It was very fortuitous that one of her colleagues, Ronnie, had a pair of tickets, three rows back from the stage, for his niece who had been due to visit but had had to cancel at the last minute. He was so relieved to not actually have to attend that he let them go at a very discounted price. Andy noted Miranda's consideration of her and widened her smile.

Miranda swallowed a sip of her wine and looked down at her plate, seemingly in contemplation. Andy continued to converse with the twins but noted as the meal wound down that their mother had withdrawn considerably.

"Girls, have you finished your homework yet?"

Both Cassidy and Caroline looked down at their plates. Cassidy ventured, "We were hoping to watch a movie with you and Andy?"

"That didn't answer my question and I have to work on the book."

There was a tightness around Miranda's eyes and mouth now. Andy pondered it along with her words; trying not to be too disappointed, she had hoped that "soon" meant that night. She internally sighed and hoped Miranda wouldn't mind if she worked alongside her.

Both girls, looking rather glum, shrugged and said in unison. "Alright mom." They got up from the table and took their plates to the sink. Cassidy asked, "Will you come say goodbye before you leave Andy?"

Andy smiled and nodded. "Of course. But I think it'll be awhile, I have some work to do also, so I think I'll set up shop next to your mom." Her eyes cut across the table, trying to discern Miranda's thoughts, the expression now completely unreadable.

Once the girls finally headed up the back stairs they set about clearing the remainders of the meal bathed in a tense silence. Andy cleared her throat, "So," she inhaled and said mildly, "the book?"

A terse, "Come with me." Was the only response as Miranda turned abruptly and led the way up to her second floor den, barely waiting for her to clear the entrance before shutting and locking the door.

"Miranda? Ungh!" Andy suddenly found herself pushed up against the wall next to the door and enveloped in a crushing kiss.

"Don't talk." Miranda husked as she pulled back only a fraction. "Just fucking kiss me." Andy noted that the other woman's hands were tangled in her hair and the slight pain that accompanied a sharp tug back into the nearly desperate body fueled her own growing arousal. She allowed her hands to loosen from their grip on the shapely hips and begin to trail lightly up along the pale, warm gray silk blouse, tracing muscles as they flexed, then back down, to the camel colored wool skirt that so tightly hugged firm, muscular globes.

Their mouths continued a sensual dance of lapping tongues and nipping teeth, calling up a need that was not going to allow itself to be put off another day.

Andy pulled back and licked the spot just below the silver hair and a delicate ear, eliciting a hissing gasp that she knew meant there would be no stopping, not even for a change of venue. She sucked at the point, not enough to mark, but to indicate she understood, as her hands worked the zipper at the back of Miranda's skirt.

For her part, Miranda was not idle and she released the dark locks to skitter touches along the black silk blouse, arching back slightly to allow her fingers to seek the release of a dozen buttons. When she pulled the tails from Andy's jeans and they refused to give she gripped the fabric and tugged, her triumphant sigh mingled with Andrea's quiet "oh god!" and the near silent pinging of buttons careening off furniture as the fragile threads gave way. The editor slid her mouth back up along the strong jaw line and tugged at full lips, made redder by the aggressive attention, and demanded immediate entrance. She had to choke off a startled yelp as her nipples were firmly pinched through the fabric before the material was shoved upwards and questing fingers fumbled only briefly with the front clasp of her bra.

Suddenly Miranda was removed completely from the embrace, back firmly pressed against the wall, blouse pushed up, bra dangling uselessly and her skirt hanging limply from her hips. Firm hands on her upper arms kept her in place as she was ensnared in brown eyes made nearly completely black by their desire.

"Miranda." Andy whispered, "my beautiful Miranda." And then the blouse was suddenly gone as was the bra and skirt and she was clad only in thigh highs, heels and the barest wisp of a triangle of silk, whose darkening gave away her high state of need.

They held eye contact for several heartbeats longer until Andy broke away, smoky, dark eyes raking the length of her form, stopping as if fascinated by the juncture of her arousal. A pink tongue unconsciously licked the full lips setting off another wave of wetness and a whimper. When Miranda attempted to re-engage a kiss she was held back with a firm palm to her breastbone.

"Please stay." Andy met her eyes for the briefest of moments as she pushed Miranda back lightly until she once again rested against the wall and then sank to her knees, immediately burying her nose and mouth in the silk and flesh.

Miranda let out a strangled moan, biting her lip to keep the keening wail she knew was just beneath the surface, at bay. The lips and tongue moving along her slit, teasing through the now soaked silk, sent waves of pleasure skittering up and down her nerve endings, electricity tingling along her spine. Feeling suddenly unsteady she reached one hand back against the smooth plaster and the other into the mass of dark brown curls tickling her thighs.

Andy soon tired of the silken barrier and tugged the thin strip down, lifting a tautly straining leg and caressing down until she pulled a silk clad foot up and out of the olive green, four inch suede Ferragamo pump, allowing it to drop to the floor. She swiftly removed the other foot from its lofty prison, tossing the shoe to the side without care, and draped the stocking clad thigh over her shoulder. Unable to wait another moment she dove back in with her tongue, reaching up and in as far as she could go, while her hands squeezed the flexing muscles of the now shaking woman's ass, dragging her forward as she began a slow, rhythmic lapping of the copious moisture.

Miranda was quickly becoming unglued, forgetting everything except the unrelenting friction of soft tongue and now, "Ohhh!", what felt like two fingers sliding up and in, joining the dance that was rapidly spiraling her upwards towards bliss. She tightened her own fingers, grasping at anything to keep her from completely losing all touch with her surroundings but lost the battle when lips and tongue combined with the now rapidly pumping digits sent her head flying towards the wall and back stiffening in a nearly painful arch of flesh and muscle in spasm. She held on at the precipice for precious seconds, not wanting the perfect moment to pass but with another twist of questing fingers hitting just the right spot she found herself lost in a blinding white light that cascaded through every synapse and tore a strangled near-scream from her throat.

The normally iron-controlled CEO slumped, boneless, and would have slid down the wall if not for Andy's quick reflexes; instead she was caught and held while soft, moist fingers slid anew against the twitching nerves bringing another, smaller, quake which this time resulted in a total loss of all ability to remain upright.

Draped completely over the nearly fully dressed woman below her, Miranda attempted to bring herself back, focusing on a lilting chanting of her name, blended with words that spoke of love and exquisite care. She felt herself lowered further until she was nearly stretched out, her human cushion shifting slightly with each inhale and exhale. When finally she opened her eyes it was to be captured in a burning gaze so hot she felt her insides clench once again as lips melted into her own.

Aware that the woman below her was probably desperate by now for her own release she somehow managed to dredge from her unfailing reserve the energy necessary to lift herself up and remove the constricting denim that separated her from her prize. Once free she immediately attacked the nearest nipple with teeth and tongue through the lace of Andy's black bra as she slid two fingers up and into a tight, wet welcome. Andrea was well past the point of need for any type of foreplay and she bit down hard as she drove a third finger in, pressing her thumb into the rock hard bundle of nerves. This sent Andy over the edge, heel of her hand pressed firmly against her mouth to stifle the moans and near shout as she tumbled into the sharp joy of her climax.

They laid there tangled, sweaty and very disheveled, for some moments each drawing strength from every breath taken in the others' arms.

"Holy fuck Miranda!" Andy whispered as she ran shaky fingers through the sweat-dampened silver strands, caressing the planes of a barely lined face where it lay upon her breast. "Never in my life…" Her voice trailed off and Miranda chuckled ruefully.

"I believe, Andrea," she paused and licked her lips, "that I can return the sentiment." The reality of her position and the fact that her daughters were only a scant few doors down the hall, caused the woman to prop herself up and shake her head. "Insanity," she murmured, but the moment she looked down and caught sight of the wantonly disheveled woman beneath her all care flew from her mind. A carefree, bubble of laughter rose from within and she leaned in and delivered another soul-stealing kiss.

Andy pulled back suddenly, eyes flashing with desire once again. "Mmm, Miranda, you need to stop or I'm not going to let you off this floor."

It took several seconds while the older woman considered; they'd gotten away with it so far, did she want to push her luck? Andy noted the pursed lips and knew a decision had been made, sure she was disappointed, but neither of them wanted one of the girls to try the door and find it locked. As it was, she looked down, she was going to need a new shirt.

Miranda noted the inner conversation Andrea was conducting and raised an eyebrow. "I'll simply tell them you had an issue with your wine glass." She paused with a devilish gleam, "After all, it would be a completely plausible scenario with you wouldn…ugh!"

Andy wasn't about to let that insult reach the light of day and grabbed her, rolling them over so Miranda was now on her back. "Oh no you didn't!" Any laughed as a loud shriek broke the quiet of the room as she used her knowledge of Miranda's tickle spots to good advantage.

"Please, please stop!" Miranda breathlessly pleaded as she struggled to move away from the questing fingers, capitulating quickly. Andy paused in her assault and she regarded the disheveled woman below her with a large smile.

Miranda narrowed her eyes. "What?"

"Sometimes it just hits me that I'm with you like this and it's real." Andy whispered. "Not just anyone gets to see this side of you. Thank you."

Miranda raised her hand and pushed several wild strands of hair behind an ear. "You don't have to thank me. I should be thanking you, you make it possible; somehow the Ice Queen just doesn't have a prayer when she's next to you."

They shared another moment of comfortable silence and then Miranda lightly swatted at the elegant curve of a taut behind. "C'mon you, I believe it would be in our best interests to make ourselves look presentable."

Once they were standing and putting their clothes in order Miranda offered with a sly smile. "Perhaps you would like a ride home tonight? Hmm?"

Andy slid her jeans up toned thighs, "Oh yeah, I think I like that idea, you wouldn't be able to stay would you?"

"Cara is back now so, yes, depending upon how the girls react, I would like that."

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The next day found Andy at her desk at quarter past eight with a steaming Americano, chocolate chip scone and a large smile upon her face. The girls did not react badly at all when their mother had asked how they would feel if she were to spend the night at Andy's. They were more concerned about the roads being unsafe but Miranda had reassured them that they would be fine.

She sighed. Oh yeah, it was fine alright. Better than fine. She picked idly at the flaky scone and gently rocked her chair side to side, remembering the best part, waking up next to the beautiful woman. They hadn't had a chance to do that but one other time since they first had gotten together the month prior and it weighed on her. She wondered if this was how their life was destined to be, constant demands on time from all corners. Andy remembered what it was like for the editor when all she had to contend with was running the magazine; now it was Runway and all of Elias-Clarke. She had an inkling that Miranda had something in the works but they had yet to discuss it; she didn't even know if she would discuss it with her.

Suddenly her mood drooped a little. Everything was so new and there were so many things to think and talk about but there just wasn't time. And when they were together…well, when they were alone they really didn't spend a lot of time talking. It was too new, the sexual energy too overwhelming to ignore.

A new email chimed, drawing her from her musing and she looked around to see if anyone had witnessed what she was sure was an extremely dopey look on her face. She was in love and it was really difficult to keep the evidence of such from being broadcast like a flashing neon sign. At least the speculation had died down somewhat; not being seen climbing into tinted glass, chauffeured Mercedes or strutting around in designer shoes helped. They were definitely keeping things on the subtle end of the dating scale. She opened her email and started planning her next story, a piece on the eating habits of New Yorkers and how they compared nutritionally to other U.S. cities. She shook her head and sighed for what felt like the one hundred thousandth time hoping that once the corruption story was finished that it would finally mean the end to the mindlessness to which she'd been assigned.

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"Erica." The carefully moderated tone, slightly bored, yet with a question hidden, floated out of the editor's office.

The two assistants looked at one another briefly and the new first looked sharply at her recently hired replacement. "She means you." She smirked, covering her continuing disbelief, and returned her eyes to the computer screen, still processing that since Emily's promotion two days prior and after only three months on the job; she was now the one with seniority. Her only prayer each night was that she wouldn't somehow screw it up.

Antonia flew from The Devil's office like her ass was on fire, grabbing her coat before nearly tripping as she flung herself towards the elevator banks and Erica pondered how long it would take her to realize that in order to actually make the coffee run under ten minutes she would need to take the stairs down. She shook her head, four weeks; it had taken her four weeks to finally get a clue and realize she needed to be more proactive. She had it down to eight minutes as she learned to call ahead. There were rumors that someone before her had managed it in five but that was simply impossible and she disregarded it as myth.

"Erica." This time the tone had just a little more firmness and the first assistant was up from her desk and clutching her iPhone in one swift motion.

"Yes Miranda."

Miranda looked at the girl, mid-length sandy blond hair, average height, size four, passable dress and nodded internally; she had hope that this girl, so untried, would be able to withstand the pressure and perform to the potential she had seen when she was first hired.

"Please see that these," she handed several layout boards over "get to Emily immediately then call Robert and tell him I need to move the February shoot in St. Croix up a week then get me someone competent in Finance to explain directly to me why the final end of year reports have not yet landed on my desk." Miranda swiveled lightly in her chair, eyes focused like a laser. "And then tell New Girl if she can't get my coffee in ten minutes next time that she's fired. That's all."

Once Erica scurried from her office Miranda pulled the glasses from her face and rubbed lightly at the corner of her eyes. She hadn't gotten a lot of sleep the night prior and it was starting to catch up to her. She turned away from her desk and stood, walking to stand by her window, face away from the outer office. She needed to somehow get her brain to focus back on her work and not on the absolute sensuality experienced in the arms of her much younger lover. Honestly, are you eighteen? Mooning about like a teenager. But even her internal snark had no heat, eclipsed by the brightly burning passion generated whenever Andrea and she were alone. She'd had more orgasms in one month than in the last ten years put together; she wasn't counting the ones she'd faked but smirked when she realized it may well surpass that number too.

Stretching lightly she noted that she wasn't as stiff as she'd been when they first started; the improved exercise routine was paying off. This pleased her and momentarily lifted her spirits until she considered that she would not be able to see the reporter until the wee hours of Saturday morning as she had asked Andrea to stay the night after the concert with Caroline. Miranda would not be available until probably one or later due to two video-conference calls scheduled with potential advertisers for Australian and Hong Kong Runway. At least she would be in the same house for those but still, she was beginning to grow impatient and resentful of every demand that took her from her girls; all three of them.

A rustle of material and the shuffling of hurried footsteps on carpet broke her from her reverie as a flustered New Girl bustled in with what Miranda hoped was a searing hot latte otherwise she may be forced to unload some of her newly found angst on the unsuspecting scatterbrain. The ringing of the phone and Erica's confident, "I have Robert", pushed her from the window with a light sigh and back to her job.

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