For notes and disclaimers, see Part 1
Forehead on her desk, Andy groaned. She wondered what she had done to make HR hate her. She muttered a silent prayer of thanks that the interviews were done. The third and final candidate was currently down in HR filling out paperwork. Why didn’t Cheri send her up first? Andy decided it was revenge for the outsourcing comment. That would teach her to pass on Miranda’s snide remarks.
The first young woman Cheri sent up proved her ability to chew gum and walk at the same time. As far as Andy could tell, that was the extent of her talents. She was dismissed after a perfunctory interview. Andy knew Miranda would murder her with her Jimmy Choos if the new second assistant sauntered into her office smacking her gum.
The second applicant showed promise until she started listing what she required from the position. Her demands for regular hours, weekends off, and no travel outside of the city doomed her prospects. Once Andy explained the long hours, phone calls in the middle of the night, and trips around the world for fashion weeks and photo shoots the girl picked up her purse and walked out.
The third time really was the charm today. Clarice dressed well, was articulate, eager to learn, and knew how to spell Gabbana. As far as Andy was concerned, she was golden. Hopefully, Miranda would agree.
Andy glanced at the time. Miranda’s appointment should be wrapping up. If Andy left now she could make a Starbucks run and get back just as Miranda was due.
The silver Mercedes pulled up to the curb just as Andy walked up to the building doors. She pulled the door open and waited for Miranda to breeze past. Andy followed Miranda to the elevators and hesitated briefly before Miranda glared at her from inside the elevator. Once inside the car, Andy traded the Starbucks cup for the book.
Miranda savored the hot coffee and discretely observed her assistant. Andrea seemed to be back to her confident, competent self. “Is there a new Emily in the office?” Miranda’s asked in a bored tone.
“Yes, Miranda. She’s completing the necessary paperwork now.” Andy crossed her fingers under the book and hoped Miranda meant what she said last night.
“Did she meet my requirements?” Miranda said as she strode down the hall.
Requirements? Andy scurried to keep up and replay last night’s conversation. “Oh, yes. Yes, Miranda, I believe she has at least two functioning brain cells.”
“Well, then. All is right with the world.” Miranda threw her purse on the new girl’s desk and disappeared into her office.
“We can only hope,” Andy muttered.
The rest of the day, Andy continually fed Clarice information. Lists of phone numbers were printed out. E-mail contacts were copied from Andy’s Runway e-mail to Clarice’s. Before leaving Clarice had almost filled a notebook with an eclectic assortment of data bites. When Clarice finally staggered out that evening, Andy almost felt sorry for the young woman’s shell-shocked face. But then she reminded herself that this was for Miranda. Everything she did was so that Miranda’s life ran smoothly. If Miranda was happy, then Runway was happy.
While she waited for the book, Andy thought about making another trip to the thirteenth floor. But she decided she needed more information. Not that she was scared. Ghosts couldn’t hurt the living. Besides, Vivian hadn’t seemed hostile. Maybe further research was a good idea.
Two hours later the book was ready and Andy was jumping at the slightest sound. When the air conditioning cycled, Andy about had a heart attack. Her research into ghostly behavior scared the crap out of her.
She still looked spooked when Roy picked her up and once again he offered to wait for her at Miranda’s townhouse. Andy didn’t have to worry about her boss popping out of thin air since she was attending a dinner with Runway advertisers. That night Andy crawled into bed deliberately leaving every light in the apartment blazing
Andy asked Clarice to come in early the next morning. She took the new second assistant to Starbucks and introduced her to the baristas.
“Clarice, you have to get Miranda’s coffee order right.” Andy and Clarice were walking back to Runway sipping their drinks. “HR has a spreadsheet summarizing the reason someone was fired. For Miranda’s assistants the number one reason is screwing up the coffee order.” Andy bit her lip as she thought of her own recent foul up. She figured the only reason Miranda didn’t fire her was because there was no second assistant to fall back on.
“I’ll do my best, Andy.” With one hand Clarice gripped her cup tight. With the other she held on to the post-it note where Andy had written out Miranda’s coffee order. It would become the single most important piece of paper in her possession.
Half an hour later, Roy sent Andy a text that he was on his way with Miranda. Andy nodded at Clarice and she was up and out of the office like a shot. Andy double-checked that everything was laid out properly on Miranda’s desk before she grabbed her notebook and pen and headed for the elevators. Clarice popped out of one elevator and hurried down the hall. Miranda marched out of the next elevator. Andy took the book and started writing as Miranda rattled off her demands for the day.
Miranda flung her purse on the second assistant’s desk and without pause continued into her office. She narrowed her eyes at the waiting Starbucks cup as she stalked around the desk to her chair.
Andy chewed her lip and waited for Miranda’s first sip. She let out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding when Miranda continued on with her instructions.
For the first time in months, Andy didn’t feel like she was ten steps behind. As soon as Miranda called ‘Emily’, Clarice was up and around her desk. Clarice ran all of the errands, allowing Andy to attend meetings with Miranda, manage Miranda’s schedule, and handle any special Miranda projects.
Andy was still responsible for delivering the book and a few nights later she decided another visit to the thirteenth floor was in order. It had been a week of research and sleeping with the lights on. It was time for answers. After determining it would be another hour before the book was ready, Andy grabbed her phone and started for the freight elevator.
When the elevator doors opened on to the dimly lit hallway, Andy took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. She stepped out of the elevator car and slowly retraced her earlier path. Andy glanced over her shoulder before turning the corner. The freight elevator doors were locked open. She was feeling a little more confident, but she wasn’t stupid. Soon she was standing outside of a brightly lit office. Vivian was seated behind her desk reading a magazine.
“Come in, Andy.” Vivian continued reading and turned a page.
Andy gripped her phone and edged into the office. She studied the woman, ghost, as she waited. The biography she read stated that Vivian was 56 when she died. Andy thought Vivian was beautiful and looked much younger. She wondered if ghosts could change their appearance or if this was really how Vivian looked when she passed. The woman looked quite elegant in her navy dress and pearls. Was this a favorite outfit when she was alive? Or was this how she was dressed when she was buried?
Vivian closed the magazine and looked up. She gestured to one of the chairs in front of her desk and Andy hesitantly sat on the edge of the chair. The faint scent of Chanel No. 5 tickled Andy’s nose.
“I’m surprised to see you.” Vivian leaned back in her chair. “I didn’t think you would ever come back.”
Andy swallowed and sat up straighter. “Me neither,” she muttered. “I’ve never met someone like you before. At least not that I know of. I, umm, read your biography.”
Vivian smiled. “Did you now? Well, you have me at a disadvantage.” Vivian rested her elbows on the arms of the chair and steepled her fingers under her chin. “Tell me about yourself.”
“Oh, well, I work at Runway. I graduated from Northwestern. Born and raised in Ohio.” Andy shrugged. “There’s not a lot to tell.”
“Oh, please,” Vivian smirked. “You are the first assistant to Miranda Priestly. Are you not?”
Andy’s eyes widened. “How did you know?”
“I have my ways when it comes to things Runway.” Vivian looked Andy in the eye. “Tell me about Miranda. I know a bit about the editor. What kind of person is she?”
“Miranda is an amazing woman.” Andy smiled as she considered her boss. “She’s brilliant, a creative genius, and an amazingly tough business woman. She pushes everyone to achieve perfection every day.” Andy shook her head and looked down at her hands. “She pushes herself just as hard or harder.”
Vivian heard more than just respect in Andy’s description. “What about her personal life? Or is she totally dedicated to Runway?”
Andy’s expression softened. “She has twin eleven year old girls. Miranda is a loving mother, very involved with her girls. I’ve juggled her schedule quite a few times so that she could attend their recitals or parent teacher conferences.”
Just then Andy’s phone pinged. “I have to go,” she said with regret. “The book is ready.”
Vivian dipped her head. “Very well. Maybe you can come again. I’ve enjoyed our chat.”
“I’d like that.” Andy started out of the office but paused at the doorway to look back at Vivian. The woman, the ghost, sat there watching. Her wistful expression hinted at loneliness. “Good night, Vivian.”
Andy had the book securely wrapped in her arms when she stepped off the elevator in the building’s lobby. She was surprised to be met by John Carson, Security Night Manager.
“Hey, John.” It had been a while since she had seen the big man and he looked serious. Andy wondered what the problem was.
“Hey, Andy.” John glanced around to make sure none of the other security guards were around. “I notice you were on the thirteenth floor this evening. You were also there last week.”
“Yeah, is that a problem?” Andy wondered why John was concerned.
“We don’t have security cameras on that floor. Management didn’t want to spend the money on a floor with no tenants. There are cameras on the freight elevator and the stairwells. But that’s it, Andy. I’m not sure how safe it is for you to be on that floor by yourself late at night. Why were you there?” John asked. He worried about the safety of everyone working or visiting his building.
Andy felt her face flush. There was no way John would believe that she was visiting with the ghost of a former editor. Andy thought fast. “Can you keep a secret?” Andy relaxed at John’s nod. “The Closet is running out of room. I thought we could move it to the thirteenth floor. I’ve been wandering around, making some notes, and taking measurements. I don’t want to say anything to Miranda until I have a plan.”
John rubbed his chin as he considered Andy’s explanation. “Okay. So you’re going to be checking it out from time to time?” When Andy nodded, he continued. “Give us a call before you go and keep your phone with you. Can you do that?”
Andy breathed a sigh of relief and patted John’s arm. “Sure. I appreciate you looking out for me.”
“No problem, Andy. You have a good night.” John gave her a brief wave before returning to the security office.
Andy settled into the back of the town car and gazed out the window. It bothered her that she could lie so easily. She also wondered why she felt so comfortable in the company of a ghost.
***
Andy visited Vivian each night while waiting for the book. The only nights she missed were weekends. Lately things had been running smoothly at Runway and no crisis required working Saturday and Sunday. Andy enjoyed listening to Vivian reminisce about her time as Editor. She regretted the text message notifying her that the book was ready.
During their conversations, Andy avoided commenting on Vivian’s state. For some reason it felt disrespectful to refer to her as a ghost. She thought Vivian was a vibrant, intelligent woman and that it was a damn shame the woman died in what must have been her prime.
Vivian also enjoyed her time with Andy. Friendships had been casualties of her obsession with work when she was alive. After so many years as a ghost, she appreciated the younger woman taking the time to make a connection with her. She thought it was the height of irony that she had to die to make friends.
Vivian had to hide her smiles whenever their conversations turned to Miranda Priestly, which they did frequently. Andy was nothing less than effusive with her praise and admiration for her boss.
One night during a lull in the discussion Andy took her time gazing at the office furnishings. “Is this how it was when you were … editor?” Andy hoped the slight pause wasn’t noticeable. She almost said when you were alive.
“For the most part yes.” Vivian had her legs crossed as she relaxed in her high back chair. “I would change some of the paintings.” She gestured towards the far wall. “That mirror was relatively new when …” Vivian sighed. Her time with Andy allowed her to forget for just a little while.
“It’s all very beautiful,” Andy said softly. “You have wonderful taste.”
Vivian looked around her office. “It’s all a memory.”
Andy tilted her head in confusion.
“I make it like this so that I am comfortable.” Vivian stood up and waved her right hand. The beautifully furnished bright office disappeared. In its place was a space dimly lit by the emergency lights. Where Vivian’s glass-topped desk stood was an old wooden table covered in dust. Centered on the table was a current issue of Runway.
Andy looked down. The Louis XV chair she had been sitting on was now a metal folding chair. The dove gray carpet was gone. The floor was bare, dirty concrete.
Before Andy could say anything, her phone pinged. “Vivian?” The ghost gave her a sad smile. “I still think you have wonderful taste. I’ll see you tomorrow. Okay?”
“Of course.” Vivian bowed her head. “I look forward to it.”
The next night Vivian thought Andy appeared distracted. “Is everything okay, Andy?” She wondered how much longer she would be able to enjoy the companionship of her living friend.
“Hmm,” Andy glanced up from her phone. “Oh, everything is fine. Clarice is shaping up to be a great assistant.” She had told Vivian about the trials of training second assistants. Vivian had offered helpful advice and gave Andy the opportunity to vent when things had not gone as smoothly as she hoped.
“Vivian, do you mind if I ask you a personal question?” Andy bit her lip, wanting to know more about her friend but not wanting to hurt her feelings or make her uncomfortable.
Vivian smiled as she leaned back in her chair. “Of course. We’ve covered many topics these last few weeks. If I don’t want to answer, I won’t.” Vivian moved a lock of hair behind her ear.
Andy leaned forward in her chair. “Why are you still here?”
Vivian shrugged. “I’m afraid it is the same old story. Heaven doesn’t want me and hell still has that restraining order.”
Andy rolled her eyes and sat back. “Seriously? I thought when a person passed, they went to an afterlife of some kind.”
Vivian laughed at her friend’s frustration. “Runway was my life. I lived and died in this office.” She looked around the space remembering. “I was so angry when I died.” Vivian stood up and moved towards the windows. “I felt betrayed by my body and the universe. I had so many plans. We were expanding the Runway offices and moving to the seventeenth floor. Circulation was way up.” She looked out of the darkened windows. “I was working late as usual. There was a pain and then nothing.”
Andy wiped a tear from her cheek. “I read it was a massive heart attack,” she whispered.
“It was a catastrophe.” Vivian’s shoulders slumped as she placed her hand against the glass. “There may have been a light. I don’t remember. All I knew was that I wanted to stay at Runway. So I did.” Vivian turned around and leaned against the windowsill.
“You never got to see the new offices?” Andy asked, stricken by the injustice.
“Oh, I’ve been up there a few times,” Vivian crossed her arms, giving a sly half smile. At Andy’s puzzled expression she laughed. “On Halloween night, when the veil is stretched thin, I can travel anywhere I wish.” Vivian paused and gazed at a spot over Andy’s head. “In fact on Halloween I am capable of quite a few things,” she mused. Vivian continued to stare while deep in thought.
“Vivian?” Andy called softly.
“Halloween is in a few days.” Vivian seemed to be thinking out loud, her expression serious.
“Vivian?” Andy waved her hand to get the woman/ghost’s attention.
“I know what I have to do.” Vivian turned her attention back to Andy. “You’re the first friend I’ve had in years. Our nightly chats reminded me how much I have missed.” She smiled brightly and stepped away from the windows. “I need a companion.”
Andy frowned as she studied Vivian. “What? A companion?” Something about the change in Vivian’s attitude started ringing alarm bells in Andy’s head.
“Yes. Miranda Priestly will be perfect.” Vivian rubbed her hands together in delight.
Andy shot to her feet. “Miranda? Vivian, what are you talking about?”
Vivian started pacing in front of the windows. “It will be perfect,” she continued thinking out loud. “On Halloween night, I’ll cross her over. We’ll be able to talk about fashion and Runway. We can watch the latest trends unfold.” Vivian stopped behind her desk and gave Andy a wide smile.
“Vivian, no! You can’t take Miranda.” Andy hurried around the desk and tried to grab Vivian’s arm. She remembered whom she was dealing with when her hand swiped through the ghostly form.
“I have plans to set in motion, Andy. I’ll talk to you later.” Vivian waved and vanished. The office reverted to its dimly lit, dusty reality.
“Vivian!” Andy stamped her foot. “Damn it. Get back here!” She was getting ready to yell again when her phone signaled that the book was ready. “Damn it!” Andy felt like slamming the phone against the closest wall. Instead she started cursing as she hurried to the elevator.
To Part 3