按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
you’ll e visit me。 I promise that together we can； um； smooth
over your look。” He ran his hand lovingly over my scalp and picked
up the ends of my hair； which he immediately held up against the
roots。 “Yes； just a touch of something honey…colored and you’ll be
the next supermodel。 Get my number from James； OK； sweetie； and e
see me anytime you get a minute。 Probably easier said than done！” he
sang as he floated toward Reese。
James sighed and looked on wistfully。 “He’s a master；” he breathed；
“simply the best。 The ultimate。 A man among boys； to say the least。
And gorgeous。” A man among boys？ Funny。 Whenever anyone had used
that phrase before； I’d always pictured Shaquille O’Neal making a
move toward the hoop against a small power forward—not a colorist。
“He’s definitely gorgeous； I’ll agree with you there。 Have you ever
dated him？” It seemed like the perfect match： the associate beauty
editor ofRunway dating the most sought…after colorist in the free
world。
“I wish。 He’s been with the same guy for four years now。 Do you
believe it？ Four years。 Since when are hot gay men allowed to be
monogamous？ It’s just not fair！”
“Hey； I hear you。 Since when are hot straight men allowed to be
monogamous？ Well； unless they’re being monogamous with me； that is。”
I took a long drag from my cigarette and blew out a near…perfect
smoke ring。
“So admit it； Andy。 Tell me you’re glad you came tonight。 Tell me
this isn’t the greatest party ever；” he said； smiling。
I’d grudgingly decided to go with James after Alex had canceled；
mostly because he wouldn’t leave me alone。 It seemed utterly
impossible that a single interesting thing would transpire at a
party for a book about highlights； but I had to admit that I’d been
surprised。 When Johnny Depp had e over to say hi to James； I was
shocked that he not only seemed to have a full mand of the
English language； but had even managed a few funny jokes。 And it was
intensely gratifying to see that Gisele； the Ittest It girl of all
current It girls； was downright short。 Of course it would’ve been
even nicer to discover that she was secretly squat； too； or had a
major acne problem that had all been airbrushed out in her gorgeous
cover shoots； but I’d settle for short。 All in all； it hadn’t been a
bad hour and a half so far。
“I’m not sure I’d go that far；” I said； leaning toward him to catch
a glimpse of a great looking guy who appeared to be sulking in the
corner near the book table。 “But it hasn’t been quite as disgusting
as I’d imagined。 And besides； I’m up for anything after the day I’ve
had。”
After Miranda had made her rather abrupt departure after her rather
abrupt arrival； Emily informed me that that night would be the first
time I would have to bring “the Book” to Miranda’s apartment。 The
Book was a large wire…bound collection of pages as big as a
phonebook； in which each current issue ofRunway was mocked up and
laid out。 She explained that no substantial work could get done each
day until after Miranda left； because all of the art people and
editorial people spent all day long consulting with her； and she
changed her mind every hour。 Therefore； when Miranda left around
five each day to spend some time with the twins； the real day’s work
would begin。 The art department would craft their new layout and
input any new photos that had e in； and editorial would tweak and
print any copy that had finally； finally； gotten Miranda’s
approval—a giant； looping “MP” scrawled across the entire first
page。 Every editor would send all the day’s new changes to the art
assistant； who； hours after nearly everyone else had left； would run
the images and layouts and words through a small machine that waxed
the backs of the pages and pressed them onto their appropriate page
in the Book。 It was then my job to take the Book up to Miranda’s
apartment whenever it was finished—anywhere in the eight to elevenP
。M。 range； depending on where in the production process we were—at
which point she’d mark it all up。 She’d bring it back the next day；
and the entire staff would go through the whole thing again。
When Emily overheard me tell James that I’d go to the party with him
after all； she jumped right in。 “Um； you know you can’t go anywhere
until the Book’s finished； right？”
I stared。 James looked as though he might tackle her。
“Yeah； I have to say； this is the part of your job I’m most happy to
be done with。 It can get really； really late sometimes； but Miranda
needs to see it every single night； you know。 She works from Home。
Anyway； I’ll wait with you tonight and show you how to do it； but
then you’re on your own。”
“OK； thanks。 Any idea when it’ll be finished tonight？”
“Nope。 Changes every night。 You’d really have to ask the art
department。”
The Book was finally ready on the earlier side； at eight…thirty； and
after I’d retrieved it from an exhausted…looking art assistant；
Emily and I walked down to 59th Street together。 Emily was holding
an armful of freshly dry…cleaned clothes on hangers； encased in
plastic； and she explained to me that dry cleaning always
acpanied the Book。 Miranda would bring her dirty clothes to the
office； where； as my luck would have it； it was my job to call the
cleaners and let them know we had a pickup。 They would send someone
to the Elias…Clark building immediately； pick up the clothes； and
return them in perfect condition a day later。 We stored them in our
office closet until we could either hand them off to Uri or take
them to her apartment ourselves。 My job was getting more
intellectually stimulating by the minute！
“Hey； Rich！” Emily called brightly； fakely； to the pipe…chomping
dispatcher I’d met my first day。 “This is Andrea。 She’ll be taking
the Book every night； so make sure she gets a good car； OK？”
“Will do； Red。” He pulled the pipe out of his mouth and motioned
toward me。 “I’ll take good care of Blondie over here。”
“Great。 Oh； and can you have another car follow us to Miranda’s？
Andrea and I are going separate places after we drop off the Book。”
Two massive Town Cars pulled up just at that moment； and the mammoth
driver in the first car barreled out of the front seat and opened
the back door for us。 Emily climbed in first； immediately whipped
out her Cell Phone； and called out； “Miranda Priestly’s apartment；
please。” He nodded and threw the car in gear and we were off。
“Is it always the same driver？” I asked； wondering how he knew where
to go。
She motioned me to be quiet as she left a message for her roommate。
She then said； “No； but there are only so many drivers who work for
the pany。 I’ve had them all at least twenty times； so they know
their way by now。” She went back to her dialing。 I looked behind us
and saw the second empty Town Car carefully mimicking our turns and
stops。
We pulled up in front of a typical Fifth Avenue doorman building：
immaculate sidewalk； well…kept balconies； and what looked like a
gorgeous； warmly lit lobby。 A man in a tuxedo and hat immediately
came to the car and opened the door for us； and Emily got out。 I
wondered why we weren’t just going to leave the Book and the clothes
with him。 As far as I understood—and it wasn’t a lot； especially
when it came to this strange city—that’s what doormen were for。 As
in； that’s their job。 But Emily pulled a leather Louis Vuitton key
chain from her Gucci logo tote and handed it to me。
“I’ll wait here。 You take the stuff up to her apartment； Penthouse
A。 Just open her door and leave the book on the table in the foyer
and hang the clothes on the hooks by the closet。 Notin the closet；by
the closet。 And then just leave。 Whatever you do； don’t knock or
ring the doorbell。 She doesn’t like to be disturbed。 Just let
yourself in and out and be quiet！” She handed me the tangle of wire
hangers and plastic and opened her Cell Phone again。All right； I can
handle this。 Why so much drama for a book and some pants？
The elevator man smiled kindly at me and silently pressed the PH
button after turning a key。 He looked like a battered wife； dejected
and sad； as though he couldn’t fight any longer and had just made
peace with his unHappiness。
“I’ll wait here；” he said softly； staring at the floor。 “You
shouldn’t be more than a minute。”
The carpet in the hallways was a deep burgundy color； and I almost
toppled over when one of my heels got stuck in the loops。 The walls
were papered in a thick； cream…colored fabric that had tiny cream
pinstripes running the length； and there was a suede cream bench
pushed against the wall。 The French doors directly in front of me
said PH B； but I swiveled and saw identical doors with PH A。 It took
every ounce of restraint not to ring the bell； but I remembered
Emily’s warning and slid the key in the lock。 It clicked right away；
and before I could fix my hair or wonder what was on the other side；
I was standing in a large； airy foyer and smelling the most amazing
scent of lamb chops。 And there she was； delicately bringing a fork
to her mouth while two identical； black…haired little girls yelled
at each other across the table and a tall； rugged…looking man with
silver hair and a broad； face…enpassing nose read a newspaper。
“Mum； tell her that she can’t just walk in my room and take my
jeans！ She won’t listen to me；” one of them pleaded of Miranda；
who’d set down her fork and was taking a sip of what I knew to be
Pellegrino with a lime； from theleft side of the table。
“Caroline； Cassidy； enough。 I simply don’t want to hear it anymore。
Tomas； bring out some more mint jelly；” she called。 A man I presumed
to be the chef hurried into the room holding a silver bowl on a
silver serving platter。
And then I realized that I’d been standing there for nearly thirty
seconds； observing them all having dinner。 They hadn’t seen me yet；
but would as soon as I moved toward the hall table。 I did so
gingerly but felt them all turn to look。 Just as I was about to
offer some sort of greeting； I remembered making a gigantic ass out
of myself at our first meeting earlier today； stammering and
stumbling like an idiot； and I kept my mouth shut。Table； table；
table 。 There it was。Deposit book on table 。 And now for the
clothes。 I looked around frantically for the place I was supposed to
hang the dry cleaning； but I couldn’t focus。 The dinner table had
grown silent； and I could feel them all watching me。 No one said
hello。 It didn’t seem to bother the girls that there was a perfect
stranger standing in their apartment。 Finally； I saw a small coat
closet tucked away behind the door； and I managed to get every
twisted； slippery hanger on the rod。
“Not in the closet； Emily；” I heard Miranda call out； slowly；
deliberately。 “On the hooks that are provided for this exact
occasion。”
“Oh； um； hi there。”Idiot！ Shut up！ She’s not looking for a response；
just do what she says！ But I couldn’t help it。 It was just too weird
that no one had said hello or wondered who I might be； or in any way
acknowledged that someone had just let herself into their apartment
and was prowling around。 AndEmily？ Was she kidding？ Blind？ Could she
really not tell that I was not the girl who’d worked for her for
over a year already？ “I’m Andrea； Miranda。 I’m your new assistant。”
Silence。 All…pervasive； unbearable； never…ending； deafening；
debilitating silence。
I knew I shouldn’t keep talking； knew that I was digging my own
grave； but I just couldn’t help myself。 “Um； well； sorry about the
confusion。 I’ll just put these on the hooks； like you said； and let
myself out。”Stop narrating！ She doesn’t give a shit what you’re
doing。 Just do it and get out 。 “OK； then； have a nice dinner。 Nice
meeting all of you。” I turned to leave and realized that not only
was the mere act of talking ridiculous； but I was also saying stupid
things。Nice to meet you？ I hadn’t been introduced to a single one of
them。
“Emily！” I heard just as my hand reached the doorknob。 “Emily； let
this not happen tomorrow night。 We’re not interested in the
interruption。” And the doorknob turned itself in my hand and I was
finally in the hallway。 The entire thing had taken less than a
minute； but I felt like I’