The Gift of Possibilities ~ Seventh, Part 1
Yes. The Jellyroll of Trouble's. Got a little Captain in ya?
Disclaimer: The Devil Wears Prada is neither mine nor CeeLyn's. No infringement intended, no money being made. The building belongs to Lauren Weisberger and 20th Century Fox. We're just redecorating. When finished, we will tear down the new curtains and fancy artwork, but leave the festive paint…
Rating: T
Fandom: The Devil Wears Prada
Pairing: Mirandy
............................
Seventh - Part 1 ~ Ruari’s
08:01am December 23, 2014
“Call Patrick and tell him ‘yes,’ we will use the five brunettes at that place he rambled on about last month at the thing, then call Dalton and tell them Andrea will be picking the girls up at noon today and they cannot be late. Have Nigel reschedule the La Perla run-through for 10:15, and remind him that it is December, not June. Call Donatella and cancel this week’s lunch. She knows better than to schedule during Christmas week. Has she forgotten I’m a family woman now?” Miranda threw her coat and purse on the lesser Emily’s desk without pause and continued into her office. “Call my wife and find out where she’d like to go on her next vacation, but do it in a way that doesn’t look like I’m asking as I’d like it to actually be a surprise this year. Based on her answer, get me brochures on no fewer than five likely locales. Find out if Cartier has Roy’s watch ready, but for God’s sake, don’t send the man to pick up his own Christmas gift. I need it here by noon. Make sure everyone knows I’ll be leaving at one o’clock today, no exceptions, and will not be returning until the 29th. And where is my coffee?”
“The bitch is late,” Emily muttered under her breath as she scribbled madly in her notebook. She was slightly distracted by wondering how she was going to get Andy to give up her preferred vacation destination without her knowing about it, so it took a few seconds for her brain to catch up with her mouth. “Bloody hell,” she swore, eyes shut tightly. She peeked at Miranda through one and her shoulders slumped.
Miranda stood behind her desk and stared at her first assistant with brows raised. In a relatively good mood, she merely rolled her eyes. “Get rid of her and call Human Resources. You know the drill.” She sat down and began reading the topmost magazine lying before her. “And Emily?” She peered over her glasses. “I’d like my coffee today. Is that really too much to ask? A hot cup of coffee? That’s all.”
Miranda made a mental note to tell Andrea later that Emily actually growled this time. She’ll be so impressed.
10:50am December 23, 2014
From: apriestly@newyorker.com
Sent: Tuesday, December 23, 2014 10:49 AM
To: Miranda@usrunway.com
Subject: Rio
As previously discussed.
...…………………..
From: Miranda@usrunway.com
Sent: Tuesday, December 23, 2014 10:53 AM
To: apriestly@newyorker.com
Subject: RE: Rio
Serena?
………………………
From: apriestly@newyorker.com
Sent: Tuesday, December 23, 2014 10:55 AM
To: Miranda@usrunway.com
Subject: RE: Rio
Yes.
……………………….
From: Miranda@usrunway.com
Sent: Tuesday, December 23, 2014 10:57 AM
To: apriestly@newyorker.com
Subject: RE: Rio
You?
……………………….
From: apriestly@newyorker.com
Sent: Tuesday, December 23, 2014 11:00 AM
To: Miranda@usrunway.com
Subject: RE: Rio
Of course.
……………………….
From: Miranda@usrunway.com
Sent: Tuesday, December 23, 2014 11:03 AM
To: apriestly@newyorker.com
Subject: RE: Rio
One?
………………………
From: apriestly@newyorker.com
Sent: Tuesday, December 23, 2014 11:05 AM
To: Miranda@usrunway.com
Subject: RE: Rio
Naturally.
……………………..
Miranda smiled at her monitor. Ever since the Word Association game last Christmas, she and Andrea had taken to these short one or two word conversations, even at home. It drove the girls insane, which tickled Miranda endlessly.
12:45pm December 23, 2014
“Cartier just delivered Roy’s watch, Miranda. Also, here are seven brochures representing several areas of Australia and New Zealand, which is where Andy said she’d love to visit sometime. Don’t ask how I came by this information. You’d cringe.” Emily fanned the brochures out on Miranda’s desk and set the packaged watch to the side. “All of the females in your life have been delivered home, according to Roy, and he shall be here momentarily.”
Miranda peered up at her assistant. “All of the females in my life?”
Emily blushed. “All of the significant females in your life, sorry.”
Miranda just nodded and motioned for the redhead to continue.
“Right. Unlike last year, the weather is clear here so all flights are leaving as scheduled. I’ve checked with the National Weather Service in Colorado, and though the weather is clear today, a strong storm out of the Northwest is expected to hit Thursday; they are anticipating blizzard-like conditions for Christmas. So no detours between the airport and the cabin and you should be fine. Per Andy’s request, a 4-wheel drive SUV has been reserved for you in Denver.”
“Andy’s request?”
Emily frowned. “Yes. Would you like me to make alternative plans?”
“No,” Miranda sighed with a wave of her hand. “She hates using a driver when we go on family vacations. It’s fine. Continue.”
“I’ve confirmed delivery of all the presents you sent. The caretaker hid them in the trunk at the foot of the bed in the master bedroom. He also confirmed Suzuki’s delivery yesterday; he hid them under a quote ‘hideously dusty tarp in the old rundown barn’ unquote. I certainly hope you know what he’s talking about.” She cast a questioning eye at her boss.
Miranda nodded once again and began shutting down her computer, preparing to leave.
“Staple groceries have been stocked, but he mentioned you might wish to stop at the store on the way through the valley before you get all the way to the cabin. Also, this package arrived for you a few minutes ago.” Emily held out an envelope bearing the logo of a local messenger service.
Miranda’s lips twitched as she shot a quick glance at the clock. One, indeed. “Thank you, Emily. Anything else?”
“No. If you think of something, just give a shout. Nigel asked for my help tomorrow, if that’s alright with you?” Emily gathered the editor’s coat and bag from the closet and held them out.
Miranda stared at Emily in disbelief. “You do realize you have tomorrow, as well as the rest of the week, off, don’t you?” She donned the coat and took the bag, absently dropping Roy’s gift inside.
Emily cursed her fair skin as she blushed again. “With you out, Nigel said he could use the assistance, someone to run interference for him with the other departments. I don’t mind at all.”
Miranda wondered what made her continually underestimate her assistant. Whatever it was, she vowed to stop immediately. She thrust the messenger’s envelope at the younger woman. “If I were you, I’d work very hard in the next two weeks on training an adequate second assistant if you and Serena hope to make use of that next month. I need to leave if I’m going to make it home in time to change before our flight. Merry Christmas, Emily.” Miranda leaned in with an air-kiss for the flabbergasted redhead before sailing out of the office.
“Oh. My. God!!”
The elevator doors closed on Miranda’s wicked grin as she heard her assistant squeal down the hall.
Emily stared down at two first-class airline tickets to Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. “Andy!”
~R
The Seventh Christmas ~ Part 2
Disclaimer: The Devil Wears Prada is neither mine nor CeeLyn's. No infringement intended, no money being made. The building belongs to Lauren Weisberger and 20th Century Fox. We're just redecorating. When finished, we will tear down the new curtains and fancy artwork, but leave the festive paint…
Rating: T
Fandom: The Devil Wears Prada
Pairing: Mirandy
............................
Seventh - Part 1 ~ Ruari’s
08:01am December 23, 2014
“Call Patrick and tell him ‘yes,’ we will use the five brunettes at that place he rambled on about last month at the thing, then call Dalton and tell them Andrea will be picking the girls up at noon today and they cannot be late. Have Nigel reschedule the La Perla run-through for 10:15, and remind him that it is December, not June. Call Donatella and cancel this week’s lunch. She knows better than to schedule during Christmas week. Has she forgotten I’m a family woman now?” Miranda threw her coat and purse on the lesser Emily’s desk without pause and continued into her office. “Call my wife and find out where she’d like to go on her next vacation, but do it in a way that doesn’t look like I’m asking as I’d like it to actually be a surprise this year. Based on her answer, get me brochures on no fewer than five likely locales. Find out if Cartier has Roy’s watch ready, but for God’s sake, don’t send the man to pick up his own Christmas gift. I need it here by noon. Make sure everyone knows I’ll be leaving at one o’clock today, no exceptions, and will not be returning until the 29th. And where is my coffee?”
“The bitch is late,” Emily muttered under her breath as she scribbled madly in her notebook. She was slightly distracted by wondering how she was going to get Andy to give up her preferred vacation destination without her knowing about it, so it took a few seconds for her brain to catch up with her mouth. “Bloody hell,” she swore, eyes shut tightly. She peeked at Miranda through one and her shoulders slumped.
Miranda stood behind her desk and stared at her first assistant with brows raised. In a relatively good mood, she merely rolled her eyes. “Get rid of her and call Human Resources. You know the drill.” She sat down and began reading the topmost magazine lying before her. “And Emily?” She peered over her glasses. “I’d like my coffee today. Is that really too much to ask? A hot cup of coffee? That’s all.”
Miranda made a mental note to tell Andrea later that Emily actually growled this time. She’ll be so impressed.
10:50am December 23, 2014
From: apriestly@newyorker.com
Sent: Tuesday, December 23, 2014 10:49 AM
To: Miranda@usrunway.com
Subject: Rio
As previously discussed.
...…………………..
From: Miranda@usrunway.com
Sent: Tuesday, December 23, 2014 10:53 AM
To: apriestly@newyorker.com
Subject: RE: Rio
Serena?
………………………
From: apriestly@newyorker.com
Sent: Tuesday, December 23, 2014 10:55 AM
To: Miranda@usrunway.com
Subject: RE: Rio
Yes.
……………………….
From: Miranda@usrunway.com
Sent: Tuesday, December 23, 2014 10:57 AM
To: apriestly@newyorker.com
Subject: RE: Rio
You?
……………………….
From: apriestly@newyorker.com
Sent: Tuesday, December 23, 2014 11:00 AM
To: Miranda@usrunway.com
Subject: RE: Rio
Of course.
……………………….
From: Miranda@usrunway.com
Sent: Tuesday, December 23, 2014 11:03 AM
To: apriestly@newyorker.com
Subject: RE: Rio
One?
………………………
From: apriestly@newyorker.com
Sent: Tuesday, December 23, 2014 11:05 AM
To: Miranda@usrunway.com
Subject: RE: Rio
Naturally.
……………………..
Miranda smiled at her monitor. Ever since the Word Association game last Christmas, she and Andrea had taken to these short one or two word conversations, even at home. It drove the girls insane, which tickled Miranda endlessly.
12:45pm December 23, 2014
“Cartier just delivered Roy’s watch, Miranda. Also, here are seven brochures representing several areas of Australia and New Zealand, which is where Andy said she’d love to visit sometime. Don’t ask how I came by this information. You’d cringe.” Emily fanned the brochures out on Miranda’s desk and set the packaged watch to the side. “All of the females in your life have been delivered home, according to Roy, and he shall be here momentarily.”
Miranda peered up at her assistant. “All of the females in my life?”
Emily blushed. “All of the significant females in your life, sorry.”
Miranda just nodded and motioned for the redhead to continue.
“Right. Unlike last year, the weather is clear here so all flights are leaving as scheduled. I’ve checked with the National Weather Service in Colorado, and though the weather is clear today, a strong storm out of the Northwest is expected to hit Thursday; they are anticipating blizzard-like conditions for Christmas. So no detours between the airport and the cabin and you should be fine. Per Andy’s request, a 4-wheel drive SUV has been reserved for you in Denver.”
“Andy’s request?”
Emily frowned. “Yes. Would you like me to make alternative plans?”
“No,” Miranda sighed with a wave of her hand. “She hates using a driver when we go on family vacations. It’s fine. Continue.”
“I’ve confirmed delivery of all the presents you sent. The caretaker hid them in the trunk at the foot of the bed in the master bedroom. He also confirmed Suzuki’s delivery yesterday; he hid them under a quote ‘hideously dusty tarp in the old rundown barn’ unquote. I certainly hope you know what he’s talking about.” She cast a questioning eye at her boss.
Miranda nodded once again and began shutting down her computer, preparing to leave.
“Staple groceries have been stocked, but he mentioned you might wish to stop at the store on the way through the valley before you get all the way to the cabin. Also, this package arrived for you a few minutes ago.” Emily held out an envelope bearing the logo of a local messenger service.
Miranda’s lips twitched as she shot a quick glance at the clock. One, indeed. “Thank you, Emily. Anything else?”
“No. If you think of something, just give a shout. Nigel asked for my help tomorrow, if that’s alright with you?” Emily gathered the editor’s coat and bag from the closet and held them out.
Miranda stared at Emily in disbelief. “You do realize you have tomorrow, as well as the rest of the week, off, don’t you?” She donned the coat and took the bag, absently dropping Roy’s gift inside.
Emily cursed her fair skin as she blushed again. “With you out, Nigel said he could use the assistance, someone to run interference for him with the other departments. I don’t mind at all.”
Miranda wondered what made her continually underestimate her assistant. Whatever it was, she vowed to stop immediately. She thrust the messenger’s envelope at the younger woman. “If I were you, I’d work very hard in the next two weeks on training an adequate second assistant if you and Serena hope to make use of that next month. I need to leave if I’m going to make it home in time to change before our flight. Merry Christmas, Emily.” Miranda leaned in with an air-kiss for the flabbergasted redhead before sailing out of the office.
“Oh. My. God!!”
The elevator doors closed on Miranda’s wicked grin as she heard her assistant squeal down the hall.
Emily stared down at two first-class airline tickets to Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. “Andy!”
~R
The Seventh Christmas ~ Part 2