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Andy wasn’t sure why she agreed to meet Rachel for dinner tonight of all nights: Valentine’s Day. They’d only been on one official date, two if you counted the time they spent chatting in the back of their shared Lyft on New Year’s Eve. She was nice enough, and her job as some sort of account director at a big Madison Avenue ad agency seemed to keep her busy at all hours.
But dinner—on Valentine’s Day? Wasn’t that something reserved for people who were in love? Established couples? Newlyweds? People trying to keep the romance alive in their relationships?
Andy had barely even kissed Rachel after their dinner two weeks ago. Would she eventually develop romantic feelings for her? Maybe. But the pressure of this holiday wasn’t doing anything to help.
She smoothed out her red satin minidress and walked up to the host. “Hi, I’m meeting someone. Rachel Gonzales?”
“Of course. She’s already seated. May I take your coat?” he asked.
Andy simply nodded and shrugged off her warm wool peacoat, accepting the small tag from him in exchange. He led her to a small table in the center of the dining room where Rachel was seated and typing something into her phone.
“Hey,” she said, taking a seat.
“Oh, Andy. Hi,” Rachel said, smiling and putting her phone down. “Wow, you got all dressed up for tonight.”
“I thought—” Andy glanced around, and seeing other women dressed similarly, she just shrugged.
“I guess I’m underdressed,” Rachel said. “Maybe I should take this blazer off?”
Andy smiled. She didn’t really care what Rachel wore as long as it was clean and Rachel felt comfortable in it. And honestly, Andy thought Rachel looked good in her black matchstick pants and heeled boots, lace-trimmed camisole, and blazer.
Rachel set the blazer on the back of her chair, exposing the tiny spaghetti straps of her emerald green camisole, accentuated by her short brunette hair. “With all the red in here today, I feel like maybe this is too Christmasy?”
Andy reached her hand across the table and took Rachel’s. “You look great. Don’t worry about anything else.” She flashed her a megawatt smile. “I’m starving, you?”
They selected a bottle of wine and began the restaurant’s prix fixe menu. Rachel went on and on about some big fiasco at work with a commercial for some major brand and kept checking her phone. It wasn’t that Andy wasn’t paying attention to her date—because she was—it was just that she wasn’t really interested. She was trying to smile and nod and say things like “oh yeah?” and “wow, I bet” to make it seem like she was engaged, but her brain just couldn’t focus. Thankfully, Rachel didn’t seem to notice.
Andy’s eyes scanned the room to see if there was anyone she knew here. Sometimes when dining out in NYC, she’d spot a fellow journalist or cable news anchor, on rare occasions she’d see someone from her stint in fashion almost ten years ago. Once she even spotted Lady Gaga wearing a baseball cap and very little makeup, eating a burger. But there was no one she recognized tonight.
At the table to her left, there was a young couple. Neither were wearing rings, but they looked to be college-aged. She bit her lip and wondered if she’d have a front row seat to a proposal tonight. They seemed smitten with each other—almost sickeningly so. It reminded Andy of her early days with Nate when she thought that was how couples were supposed to act, that women were supposed to be fawned over.
Shaking her head, she looked the other direction. There was a table of four women having a great time, and Andy tried to figure out their stories. Were they all single? Married and made their husbands stay home with the kids? Or just a group of best friends having a good time like Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte, and Miranda?
Miranda. Even after all this time, she still thought of the infamous editor in chief nearly every day. As time wore on, the feelings she held for the woman faded but never died out completely. Sometimes it was hard to remember that she actually did spend the better part of a year traipsing around Manhattan with a key to that woman’s private home, talking to her on the phone at all hours of the night.
“Hey Andy, I’m so sorry,” Rachel said, bringing her attention back to their date. “I need to go make a call. It’s this commercial—”
Andy smiled. “That’s fine, don’t let me keep you from your job,” she said. She imagined that’s what Miranda would have wanted her husbands to say to her, but they never did.
“Thanks Andy!”
“If you’re not back by dessert, I cannot promise there will be any left for you, though!” she added with a wink.
“I promise I’ll make it quick!”
Andy chuckled and took another sip of her wine. She couldn’t help but try and listen in on the couple next to her. Despite being single for the better part of the last decade, she was a romantic at heart and was eager to witness a proposal.
“Babe,” he said, putting his fork down. Andy was sure this was it.
“I’ve asked you not to call me that, Jonathan,” the young woman replied.
Andy tried to focus on her plate. If she looked at them, it would be too obvious she was listening.
“Okay, but listen, there’s something I want to say.”
“Yes?”
“I don’t think this is working out.” Andy had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from gasping out loud. She heard a record screech in her head. Was this asshole breaking up with his girlfriend tonight—on Valentine’s Day?!
“You don’t think what is working out?” she replied disinterestedly. “If this is about the apartment, we’ve already been through that. It’s only fair that you pay your half.”
“You’re not even paying your share—your mom is!”
“Leave her out of this. Why should she support you? Your parents have money, too. You’re on a scholarship. You’ve got a paid internship during the year.”
“No,” he said, louder than before, slamming his fist on the table. “It’s not—this isn’t what I was talking about. It’s us—that’s what’s not working.”
His words were met with silence and Andy sympathized with the young, speechless woman.
“Jonathan,” she said quietly after an awkward silence, “is this something we can talk about later? I can call a car and we can speak privately.”
He stood angrily stood from the table. “God damnit! You can’t keep doing this to me!”
Other patrons were turning to stare, so Andrea looked up, too.
The young woman looked around frantically, grabbing his wrist and trying to get him to sit down. “Please, Jonathan. You’re making a scene.”
“You’re making a scene,” he said mockingly. “That’s all you people care about—appearances, isn’t it?”
“You know that’s not true. Please, sit down. We’ll talk about this like adults.”
“Or what? You’ll call Mommy? I’m sick of this. I can’t keep doing this, living up to these unrealistic expectations you have.”
The young woman started crying and covered her face with her hand. “I thought you loved me,” she said. “You told me you did. You promised. What changed?”
He grabbed her arm and yanked her up to her feet. “C’mon, we’re leaving.”
Several people stood to intervene, Andy being one of them. The closest was a waiter, who grabbed Jonathan’s wrist and told him to let go of her. He did, and the girl fled towards the bathroom. Andy quickly made eye contact with a few others and as if by silent agreement, she ran after her.
When she got to the ladies’ room, the young woman was locked in a bathroom stall, sobbing.
“Hey,” Andy said softly, knocking on the stall door. “I was sitting next to you out there and wanted to see if you’re okay.”
“Of course I’m not okay,” she cried. “I’ve never been more humiliated in my entire life. And as if him dumping me wasn’t bad enough, he did it in front of a bunch of people! My mom’s gonna kill me if this is on Page Six tomorrow. I just want to disappear.”
Maybe Andy was wrong about there not being any celebrities at the restaurant tonight. But she couldn’t imagine why Page Six would be interested in this young couple. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. He was a real asshole, you know.”
“Thanks, but it doesn’t fix things.” She sniffled and blew her nose.
“What could fix things?” Andy asked. “Is there someone we can call that you can go home with?”
“Just my sister, but she’s got an exam in the morning and is probably still at the library.”
“Maybe you can coax her out for thirty minutes. She’s gotta eat dinner, right?”
The girl chuckled. “You obviously don’t know Caroline.”
Andy froze. Caroline—as in… Caroline Priestly? And that would make this… “Wait, are you Cassidy?”
The girl stopped crying. “Who are you? What do you want from me?!”
“Nothing. I was one of your mom’s assistants when you were little.”
Cassidy cautiously opened the stall door and peeked through the crack. “Andy?!”
Andy nodded and opened her arms, and Cassidy lunged forward and hugged her. Andy let the girl cry on her shoulder, gently tracing circles on her back. “I’m so sorry, Cass. I know it hurts, but you really do deserve better than him.”
Cassidy held on tight. “Thanks, Andy. God, I’m glad you’re here.”
“I can’t believe you even remember me.”
“Oh please, Mom kept thinking every brunette we saw out in public was you for years after you left.”
Andy smiled. “Seriously?”
“Well, maybe only a few months, but yes. Also, she was livid when IT told her that your phone had been recovered in a fountain. Caroline and I thought it was hilarious.”
“Oh, right. Not my best moment. Well, let me get you home tonight, okay?” Andy said. “I think your mom might find a way to fire me from my job at the Wall Street Journal if I let anything happen to you.”
Cassidy chuckled and nodded in agreement. “I don’t think I can go back to my apartment—he’s probably there. I don’t want to see him tonight.”
“What about your sister’s?”
“No, she’s—”
“Studying. Right, forgot. Is there a friend’s place?”
“Not really. A lot of my friends are pre-law like Caroline and they’ve all got the LSAT tomorrow.”
“Oh, the LSAT. I hated that test.”
“You went to law school?”
“No. Almost, though. Turned down Stanford Law to work for your mom, in fact.”
“That seems kinda stupid.”
Andy rolled her eyes. “It kinda was, but I don’t think I’d be where I am today if I didn’t make all those choices along the way. And I’m happy, working as a reporter. Life has a funny way of working out.”
Cassidy’s eyes widened. “Oh my gosh, you’re here on a date! I ruined your date tonight!” She pushed away from Andy and wiped her eyes.
Andy shook her head. “It wasn’t anything serious. A second date with someone I barely know, someone who had to step away to make a work call. Please, Cassidy, it’s okay. Let me take you home.”
“You’ll take me to Mom’s?”
Andy’s eyes widened a bit as she realized what she was offering: seeing Miranda again, after all these years. “Yes. After what that asshole did out there,” she gently rubbed her arm, careful not to touch where the bruise was starting to form. “I am seeing you home tonight and handing you over to someone who loves you and will look after you.”
“Thank you, Andy.”
“Wait here, and I’ll go grab our purses and phones and we can get out of here.”
She sniffled and nodded.
When Andy returned to the dining room, Rachel was sitting down, sipping on her water, scrolling through her phone.
“Andy!”
“Hey, sorry, there was this girl—”
“It’s okay, the waiter filled me in. I actually have to head into the office, so can I take a raincheck on dinner?”
“Yes, I think that’s best,” Andy said. “I’ll text you.”
Rachel left cash on the table—enough to cover both of their meals and a generous tip. Andy finished her glass of wine, then grabbed her purse and phone, plus Cassidy’s purse and phone from the next table, and she headed towards the bathroom.
Cassidy was sitting on the small bench with her knees pulled up to her chest.
“Okay, you ready?” Andy asked.
She shook her head and sniffled.
Andy put her arm around Cassidy’s shoulders. “I know it hurts. You’ll be more comfortable in your bed. Maybe you can even get your mom to eat ice cream and watch a rom-com with you.”
Cassidy lifted her head and smiled. “Yeah, that would never happen.”
“First time for everything, right?”
She shook her head and buried her face in her hands. “I don’t even understand what I did wrong. I tried so hard to be perfect for him. What’s wrong with me?” she cried, rocking back and forth.
“Absolutely nothing is wrong with you,” Andy said firmly. “You are a strong, confident, smart, kind young woman. His problem is with himself, not with you.”
“You’re just saying that. You don’t even know me.”
“That’s fair. But I know your mom, and I know the huge effort she made to raise you to be an amazing young woman. There’s nothing wrong with you, Cassidy.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes, and finally, Cassidy sat up and wiped the tears from her eyes.
“Here’s your phone and purse,” Andy said. “I have some makeup remover wipes in my purse here if you want. I’ll go grab our coats.”
“Thanks,” she said. “I don’t have my ticket—Jonathan had it.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll figure it out.”
Andy ordered an Uber Black Car as she walked up to the coat check and retrieved their coats. “Do you by any chance have a lost and found, hopefully with some sort of sunglasses?” Andy asked. The woman understood what Andy was getting at, and reached under the counter and produced a box. Andy picked the biggest pair of sunglasses that were there—Prada, of course—and the lady told Andy they’d been there for at least six months, so she didn’t have to worry about returning them.
Back in the bathroom, Cassidy was dabbing at the smudged eyeliner and mascara on her cheeks.
“I got you these,” Andy said, holding the sunglasses up as she handed her the coat.
“Oh my gosh, you’re the best,” she said, quickly putting them on.
“And our car will be here in three minutes.”
Cassidy slipped her coat on and smiled. “No wonder Mom missed you so much.”
Andy almost choked on that. “Oh, please. I’m sure she didn’t.”
Cassidy just shrugged.
Andy put her coat on and wrapped her arm around Cassidy. “Ready?”
She linked her arm through Andy’s and nodded, and they walked out to the curb to meet their car. There were two or three photographers outside, and they each might have snapped one picture of the two women leaving together. Thankfully, it seemed that Cassidy wasn’t recognized.
The driver informed them that there was traffic and it would be twenty minutes until they reached Miranda’s home on the Upper East Side.
Cassidy turned and looked out the window, and Andy could see the tears streaming down her cheeks.
“What’s wrong, sweetie?” Andy asked, gently stroking her arm.
“I messed this up. Mom’s gonna be so mad. It’s my fault that I wasn’t enough for him,” she cried.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, where is this coming from?”
“Jonathan’s father is on the Board of Directors at Martell, you know, the book publisher?”
“Yes…”
“Our parents introduced us. I’ve heard Mom talk about how Elias Clarke is looking at purchasing Martell, and now after this, I’m sure I’ve fucked up that deal somehow.”
“Cassidy, this is the twenty-first century. Families don’t arrange for their children to marry as part of a business dealing. Or—they shouldn’t! You did nothing wrong.”
“Mom won’t see it that way.”
“Well then I’ll need to have a little talk with her,” Andy said, expressing more confidence than she felt.
“I mean I agree with you, but when I didn’t show interest in Jonathan in the first place, my mom pushed me to give him another chance.”
“Oh sweetie, I’m sorry. Parents—moms especially—can be really frustrating. When I broke up with my boyfriend back around the time I was working for your mom, my parents pressured me for years to get back together with him. I’m sure your mom just wants the best for you. I know it was hard for my mom to accept that what she thinks is best and what I think is best are two different things.”
Cassidy shrugged. “You said boyfriend—do you date both?”
“Nope. I realized a few years ago that I wasn’t really living authentically, that I was just being who people wanted me to be, and I wasn’t very happy. I’m happy now. I’ve had some relationships with women, but nothing really went anywhere—and that’s okay.”
“I like girls, too,” she said quietly. “Sometimes I like guys, though. It just kinda depends.”
Andy squeezed her hand. “Have you told anyone yet?”
“Not really, just Caroline—and she swore not to tell Mom or Dad.”
“Well, if you ever want help talking to your mom about it, though, I’m here for you.”
Cassidy nodded and wiped the tears from her eyes. “Why are you so nice?”
Andy shrugged. “There was a time when I cared about your mom and you two very much. It was my job, and I took it very seriously. If someone said something bad about any of you, I felt personally attacked and went on the defensive. In a lot of ways, that never left me.”
“Sounds more like a pavlovian response.”
“Look at you—psychology major?”
She chuckled and nodded.
“Hey, should you call your mom and let her know you’re coming?”
“Oh shit, yeah. I’ll just text.” Cassidy pulled out her phone and sent a text, and seconds later, “Mommy” flashed on the screen with an incoming call. Cassidy answered and put it on speaker.
“Cassidy, what happened? Why aren’t you going back to your apartment with Jonathan?”
“We broke up, Mom. It’s over.”
Andrea pointed to Cassidy’s arm. If there’s anything Andrea knew, it was the kinds of things that Miranda cared most about—and the physical safety of her daughters was probably still the top of the list.
“It was awful, Mom. In front of everyone. He even grabbed me and I have a bruise now,” Cassidy said.
“Oh, Bobbsey,” Miranda said softly, entirely shifting her demeanor. “Okay, we’ll talk about it. Do you need me to call a car?”
“No, we’re like five minutes away.” Cassidy pointed at Andrea, wordlessly asking if she should mention her.
Andy nodded, knowing that the only way there was a chance Miranda wouldn’t be furious at her was if she had a few minutes to think about the situation first.
“Remember Andy? Andrea?”
“Of course I remember Andrea. Why are you—”
“She’s with me.”
“What? Did I mishear you?”
“No. She was sitting next to me at the restaurant. She followed me to the bathroom when I was crying and was helping me before she even realized it was me.”
“Oh, I see.”
“She just wanted to make sure I got home safely.”
“I appreciate that. She was always good in a crisis.”
Andy’s eyes widened in surprise at the compliment.
“Okay, I’ll see you in a few minutes,” Cassidy said.
“Please tell Andrea she’s welcome to come inside so I can thank her personally,” Miranda added.
Cassidy grinned and looked over at Andy. “Okay Mom, bye.”
Once the call ended, Andy gave her a reassuring hug. “See? She won’t be mad at you about this, Cass.”
“Not tonight, anyway. I told you she missed you.”
“I wouldn’t go that far. I’m sure she’s going to try and like write me a check or make me sign an NDA or something ridiculous,” Andy said.
“Probably. By the way, will you give me your number so I can call or text if need help with explaining the bi thing?”
Andy smiled and took her phone, quickly entering her own information as a contact.
The car came to a stop outside the townhouse and Andy quickly got out, then gave Cassidy one more hug before escorting her up the steps. The door was cracked open, and as they approached the top, it swung all the way open and they stepped inside.
“Come here,” Miranda said, reaching for her daughter and pulling her into a big hug. Over her shoulder, she locked eyes with Andy and mouthed, “thank you.”
Andy nodded and closed the door behind her.
Miranda led Cassidy down the hall and to the foot of the stairs. She tucked the girl’s strawberry blonde hair behind her ears and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Why don’t you go upstairs and take a bath, Bobbsey. I’ll make some tea and bring it up in a little bit.”
Cassidy nodded and turned to Andy, hugging her tightly. “Thanks for everything, Andy. I’m so glad you were there.”
Andy smiled and kissed her on the forehead. “I’m always here for you, Cass.”
Once Cassidy was upstairs, Miranda turned to Andrea and reached her hand out, firmly gripping Andrea’s arm. She didn’t say anything, but she squeezed tightly and Andy could see the unshed tears in her eyes.
Miranda let go, then gestured for Andy to follow her into the kitchen. “Do you know, did Cassidy eat?”
“I’m not really sure. They were seated before I was, so I would imagine so.”
Miranda nodded and turned on the kettle and took three mugs from the cupboard. “Here,” she said, reaching her hand out. “Let me take your coat. I was preoccupied before.”
Andy shrugged out of her wool peacoat and handed it over to Miranda who simply raised her eyebrows as she took in Andy’s ensemble.
After hanging it up in the hall, Miranda returned to the kitchen and gestured for Andy to take a seat “Will you have tea?” she asked over her shoulder as she prepared the tea.
“Yes, if you don’t mind.”
Miranda rolled her eyes. “Of course I don’t mind, Andrea,” she said, setting one mug in front of her guest and sipping from the other. “I can’t tell you the panic that went through me when Cassidy said he grabbed her. Knowing she wasn’t alone, and that she had you, of all people, there with her—that was the only thing that let me worry a bit less.”
“I’m just glad that she got home safely,” Andy said.
“Were you there with your significant other?” Miranda asked.
“Not really. It was only a second date, and the other person had to leave for a work emergency.”
“Don’t I know how those go,” Miranda said, sipping her tea.
“I initially thought that I was going to see a proposal between those two,” she said, changing the subject.
“Were there cameras?” Miranda asked.
“I did not notice any in the dining room. A few might have caught us leaving, but they seemed disinterested enough that they didn’t recognize her.”
“Good, good,” Miranda said.
“I know it’s not my place,” Andy said, “but Cassidy was really concerned that you would be mad at her for messing up some business deal.”
Miranda’s eyes widened. “What? With Martell?”
“Yes.”
She rolled her eyes. “That fell through months ago. She thought I—Jonathan?”
Andy nodded.
Miranda sat in the chair next to Andy and put her head in her hands. “Why would she have thought that?”
“Not sure if that’s a question for me or what, but, um, she mentioned you were pushing for her to date him.”
“I did, but I thought she was just nervous. She had been spending all her time with her friend Jessica. They were inseparable, and I told her she wasn’t going to meet a husband like that.” Miranda sighed. “I mentioned the prospect of Elias Clarke buying Martell because, I don’t know, I thought she’d see more potential in him.”
“Are you sure she wants a husband? I mean, what was her relationship with Jessica?”
Miranda’s eyes widened and she turned to look at Andy. “But she’s not—she doesn’t—oh my gosh. Did she say something to you?”
Andy shook her head. “I just remember what it was like for me when I was discovering myself. It took a few wrong relationships for me to come to terms with it and feel comfortable. As a lesbian, that is.”
Miranda’s eyes widened ever so slightly. Most wouldn’t notice, but Andy did.
“You know, I’m happy to talk to Cassidy about any of that if you think it might be appropriate. I know I would have loved to have someone who’s gone through all that telling me it’s okay and that I’d get through it.”
“Perhaps. I’m not sure how I’ll broach the subject with her, though.”
“Yeah, it’s hard. In my experience, kids just want to know their parents won’t reject them for not being ‘normal,’” she said, using air quotes.
Miranda pursed her lips. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt if her father and I both reminded her of that. Caroline, too, for that matter.”
Andy smiled and sipped her tea. She couldn’t help but notice how Miranda kept looking over at her. Once she finished, she didn’t have any real reason to stick around, so she pushed her mug away and stood up. “I should probably go.”
Miranda looked up and blinked a few times. “I—can I offer you anything else? More tea? A drink? Something to eat?”
Andy shook her head. “It’s been an emotional night for all of us. I’m going to head home, take a shower, change into some pajamas, and have a bowl of cereal.”
Miranda pursed her lips.
“Hey, everyone wears pajamas!”
“I wasn’t critiquing your clothing,” she said, rolling her eyes, “it was your choice of a meal that’s unsatisfactory.”
“I’ll have a big breakfast loaded with carbs to make up for it,” she said with a wink.
Miranda just shook her head and followed Andy towards the door, retrieving her coat and helping her into it.
“It was nice to see you, Miranda, despite the circumstances. I’m glad I was able to be there for Cassidy tonight.”
Miranda uncharacteristically threw her arms around Andy and hugged her tightly. “Thank you for looking after my baby,” she whispered. When she pulled away, she pressed a kiss to Andy’s cheek.
Andy nodded. “Go take Cassidy her tea and channel all that fiercely overprotective energy towards her. I think she could really use it right now.”
“Oh, I will,” Miranda said as she opened the door. She hesitated, as though she was going to say something else.
“Maybe we can catch up over coffee sometime, under better circumstances,” Andy added.
“I’d like that.”
Andy stepped onto the porch. “Goodnight, Miranda. You two take care.”
“Goodnight, Andrea.”
* * *
The next morning, Andy woke up and was almost convinced she had dreamt that entire encounter with Miranda until she realized she had three unread text messages from unknown numbers.
hey thx again for everything last night, and whatever you said to mom, thanks for that, too. she won’t stop hugging me and i’m ok with that.
Andrea, thank you again for bringing Cassidy home safely last night. The bruise isn’t as bad as I’d imagined, and I think she’s feeling a little better about the whole situation. Although, I will still continue to channel that fierce overprotectiveness her way. I hope you are enjoying your carbohydrates. M.
And if you were serious about catching up, what does your schedule look like next weekend? I can rearrange and be free all afternoon on either Saturday or Sunday.
Andy smiled from ear to ear. She’d missed this woman so much. After the way she left in Paris, she was too embarrassed to ever reach out again. She didn’t think Miranda would ever forgive her, let alone talk to her, but now, almost ten years later, the editor practically seemed happy to see her. Andy knew she’d grown up a lot since those days working as her assistant, but she tried not to let her brain imagine a future between them—as friends or something more.
She replied to the messages and made plans with Miranda for Saturday afternoon.
The rest of the week dragged on. Andy went about her daily routine as always, but for the first time in a long time, she was really looking forward to the weekend. Usually, she hated the weekends because they tended to remind her of her own loneliness. But this weekend she had plans—with Miranda Priestly.
By the time Saturday morning rolled around, Andy was beginning to question her decision. She still had time to back out, to feign illness or work, but the thought of lying to Miranda made her actually sick to her stomach, so she knew she had to go through with it. She couldn’t decide whether Miranda was going to be warm and grateful like she was that night, or if it was going to be some obligatory small talk that meant nothing and they’d never see each other again. And with Miranda, one never really knew what to expect.
As she climbed the steps to the townhouse, again, the door opened without her having to knock.
“I hope you weren’t waiting too long,” Andy said as she stepped inside.
“Andrea, nice to see you.”
“You as well,” she replied.
Miranda reached for her coat and hung it up, then gestured for Andy to follow her upstairs. “I thought we could sit up here—I think it’s more comfortable.”
Andy looked around and took in the space—lots of neutral colors, much like Miranda’s office used to be, but very lived-in, unlike the pristine office. “It’s great in here,” she remarked.
Miranda poured her a cup of coffee and handed it to her on a saucer. Cream and sugar were in small little canisters on the tray.
“How is Cassidy?” Andy asked, breaking the ice.
“She’ll be okay. This is her first big break-up. I think she saw a future with him—whether she actually liked what she saw, that’s a different story. She will slowly learn to trust again. I think it really helped her that you were there in the restaurant.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” Miranda set down her coffee and folded her hands in her lap. “She dealt with depression in high school and even for a while at NYU, and there were some instances of self-harm that got rather serious.”
“Oh gosh, I’m sorry. That must have been hard for you both,” Andy said.
“I think you managed to help her avoid a trigger that night. Do you understand?”
Andy nodded. “Yes, I think so. I’m just glad I was there and that she’s doing okay.”
“Let’s talk about something else. Tell me how you ended up at the Journal,” Miranda said.
They talked for almost two hours. Andy was surprised at how relaxed Miranda was. Or rather, she knew Miranda had a softer side that she rarely showed to anyone but her daughters, and Andy was surprised she was getting to see that.
During their conversation, she allowed herself to take in the woman’s appearance. She looked incredible. Stunning, really. But then again, Andy always preferred the casual side of the woman. Like that day she brought the Book and Miranda was wearing an off-the-shoulder cowl neck sweater, or the bathrobe in Paris.
For years after, she thought of those moments, those glimpses into Miranda’s private life, and she longed for more. She wanted nothing more than to take Miranda into her arms. To hold her and kiss her and— Andy gasped and brought her hand up to her lips.
“Everything alright, Andrea?”
Andy blushed. “Yes, sorry.”
“Do you have somewhere to be, or will you stay for dinner?”
“Oh, Miranda, I don’t want to impose. I’m sure you’re busy.”
“Andrea,” she said with a smirk, “I thought you knew me better than this. I would never have asked you to stay if I didn’t want you here.”
“Then dinner sounds wonderful. Can I help you prepare something?”
Miranda laughed. “You can help by picking whatever you’d like from Smith & Wollensky.”
They relocated downstairs to the kitchen where Miranda called in an order and opened a bottle of wine.
“I think of you often, you know,” Miranda said as she handed her a wine glass. “I wasn’t sure that you would appreciate hearing from me. I know I wasn’t an easy person to work for.”
“Oh, I would have loved that,” she said. “I would have been really surprised, but would have loved it.”
“Well, I’m glad we’ve been able to put all that behind us.”
“Have we, though?” Andy asked.
“I have, Andrea. We have no reason to rehash the past.” She gently laid her hand on Andrea’s arm. “I hope you don’t mind my saying, but you’ve really matured, and I find myself impressed with you once again. I really appreciate what you shared the other night—I had some honest conversations with Cassidy this past week, and she revealed to me that Jessica was more than a friend.”
“Oh, really? Well, I’m glad she was able to talk to you about it.”
“Only because you opened my eyes to what was in front of me,” she said.
“I can’t imagine that was easy for you.”
Miranda sighed and relaxed on the barstool. “Easier than you might think.”
Andy quirked an eyebrow in question.
“Before I married the girls’ father, when I was just starting out in the industry, I did not exclusively date men,” she admitted, staring down at her wine glass.
“No way! That’s a tightly-guarded secret.”
Miranda just shrugged.
Andy could see a smirk forming on her lips. “Well, if you want my opinion, a woman would treat you better than that last asshole you were married to.”
Miranda started laughing so hard she had to set down her glass.
“I’m sorry, but Stephen was a huge dick,” Andy said.
She nodded in agreement. “You’re right—but not about the ‘huge’ part.”
Andy almost spit out her wine. “Oh god, I don’t want to think about that.”
“It was an entirely unsatisfying time of my life,” Miranda said.
“You poor thing,” Andy said, feeling emboldened by the wine. “Please tell me you’ve since made up for that.”
Miranda rolled her eyes. “Does swearing off men count?”
Andy raised her glass. “Welcome to the club.”
“Oh please, I was in this club before you were born.”
As Andy was going to say something in reply, the doorbell rang. “Is that dinner already? You just ordered…”
Miranda smirked. “I threatened to stop using them if it ever took more than fifteen minutes to deliver. I’ll be right back.”
When Miranda brought dinner back to the kitchen, Andy helped plate their food, and they carried it over to the table. It felt like this was all a dream, sitting around the table, drinking wine and eating dinner in Miranda’s home.
Andy watched as the woman took a sip of wine and resisted the urge to reach over and trace her fingers down her throat. She was wearing a cardigan sweater over a silk shell—nothing particularly revealing—but Andy desperately wanted to touch. Maybe she’d had too much wine, she thought.
“Was your chicken satisfactory?” Miranda asked. Her cheeks were flushed, and she was avoiding eye contact.
“Yes, it was great, thank you. May I use the powder room?”
“Of course, it’s just across from the stairs. If you’re finished, I’ll clear the table.”
Andy nodded and excused herself. She closed the door and splashed some cold water on her face. She wasn’t sure how long she was standing there, but she was jolted from her thoughts by a soft knock on the door.
“Andrea, is everything alright?” Miranda asked through the door.
She quickly dried her hands and opened the door. “Yes, sorry.”
Miranda gently gently took Andy’s arm and led her to the sofa in the den. She turned to face her, their legs bumping into each other. “I’ve noticed you staring all day,” she said, looking down at her hands. “I know I’ve aged, but I wish you wouldn’t let that—”
Andrea’s eyes quickly shot up. “What?! You—you’re more beautiful than ever, Miranda.”
“Oh,” she said, clearly surprised by that comment. “I thought you were—why did you turn away like that?”
“You’re incredibly attractive,” Andy said, looking into her eyes. “When I caught myself staring, I thought I was being rude.”
“You should know a woman never tires of knowing she’s admired.”
Andy offered a smile. “Everyone admires you, Miranda.” She looked down at her hands.
Miranda reached up and lifted her chin with her finger until she met her eyes. “They might admire my public image, but they don’t know me.”
“And I do?”
“I think you do. You look at me like this whether I’m in couture or—well, or a bathrobe.”
“Miranda, I—”
“Forgive me if I’m being too forward, but life is short and I don’t want you walking away from me again.”
“So, are you saying you don’t mind me staring?”
She rolled her eyes. “Really, Andrea, I thought you were smarter than that.”
Andy stared at her in disbelief. Was she saying what she thought she was saying? “I think you’re gonna have to spell it out for me, Miranda.”
“I’d like to kiss you,” Miranda said. “Might you be amenable to that?”
Andy quickly nodded and leaned forward, closing her eyes as her lips met Miranda’s. She felt the woman’s fingers weaving through her hair at the base of her neck, gently nudging her closer. They kissed for what felt like hours, and when they parted for air, Andy’s eyes fluttered open to see Miranda’s hooded gaze.
“Ohh,” Andy gasped.
Miranda chuckled and traced the younger woman’s jawline. “Darling, you are extraordinary,” she whispered.
Andy pressed her lips to the woman’s neck. “I want you,” she murmured.
“You—have me,” Miranda whispered, arching her neck to give the girl more access.
“I want more.”
Miranda ran her fingers through Andy’s hair. “Take it.”
* * *
The next morning, Andy woke in an unfamiliar bed with an arm draped across her waist. A careful glance over at the silver white hair splayed across the pillow brought it all back. Miranda. She slowly moved away from the woman so she could better observe the slight rise and fall of her body as she slept on her stomach, the occasional twitch of her eyelid, her pink chapped lips. Andy couldn’t help it. She reached out and softly caressed her cheek, brushing the hair out of her face and tracing that jawline her lips were practically glued to last night.
Miranda inhaled and opened her eyes, quickly shutting them again.
Andy cupped her cheek. “Good morning.”
Miranda took a deep breath and pushed herself up onto her elbow. “You’re still here,” she remarked.
Panic coursed through her veins. “You wanted me to leave?”
“No, no,” she said softly, pulling Andy’s hand from her cheek and kissing her palm. “I wanted you to stay; I worried you would not, your penchant for running away and all.”
“I could never run away from you again,” Andy said. She curled up against her chest and hugged her tightly.
“I believe you,” Miranda said, nudging her up and kissing her softly. “And I’m enjoying myself far too much to ever think of letting you go that easily.”
Andy smiled and pressed a few kisses to her neck. “Do you have anywhere to be today?”
“Would this be the wrong time to admit that I cleared my morning in anticipation of this very purpose?”
Andy opened her mouth to reply, but Miranda quickly pressed her finger to her lips. There was a sound downstairs. Someone was in the house. “Are you expecting someone?” Andy whispered.
“No.”
“Mom?” Cassidy called up the stairs. “Are you home?”
Miranda rolled her eyes and flopped onto her back, covering her face with her hand.
“Hey, it’s okay. I don’t think Cassidy will be as surprised as you might think.”
“Are you—”
“Mom?” Cassidy called before pushing the door open.
“Cassidy! Did you forget how to knock?!”
Andy hid her face against Miranda’s chest, pressing several small kisses that made the woman squirm.
Cassidy gasped, but stood frozen in the doorway.
“Stop that,” she said, extricating herself from Andrea. “Cassidy, please?” She gestured for her to leave the room. “I’ll see you downstairs.”
“Mmm, don’t leave me,” Andy whined.
“Andrea, as much as I would love to lounge in bed with you all morning, I have to go deal with Cassidy. When I told her she could move her things back here on Sunday, I never imagined she’d be over before 9:00 AM.”
There was a knock on the door. Andy sat up and covered herself with the duvet, tossing the robe over to Miranda.
“Just a minute,” Miranda said. Once she tied the robe around her, she said, “Okay, come in.”
Cassidy opened the door and brought two steaming mugs of coffee. “I’m sorry I barged in earlier,” she said as she approached. “I bring coffee as my peace offering.”
“Thanks, Cass,” Andy said.
“Sure. And Mom, please don’t be weirded out or anything. I’m really happy that you two finally figured this out. Maybe Jonathan breaking up with me was some sort of gift from the universe,” she said.
“Oh Bobbsey—”
“No, Mom, it’s a good thing. I’ve been thinking a lot, and Jonathan and I were never going to work. We talked for a while yesterday. He did me a favor, and it pushed me to open up to you. It worked out, really.”
“I hate seeing you so upset, though,” Miranda said.
“I got over it quickly,” she said. “So is this thing serious between you two? Or didn’t you talk about it yet?”
The two women exchanged glances.
“It’s serious,” they both said in unison.
“Yes!” she shouted. “I gotta call Caroline and tell her we’ve got a new step-mom!”
Andy started laughing, but Miranda looked horrified. “Cassidy! You will not!” she called after her.
“Hey, relax, it’s okay,” Andy said as she wrapped her arms around the woman. She snaked her hand inside the robe and gently stroked her skin.
“Andrea-ah!” Miranda’s voice caught, but she didn’t push her away. Instead, she reached for the sash of her robe and quickly untied it, pushing it off her shoulders and tugging Andy closer. “I want you,” she whispered.
Andy smirked, recalling their exchange last night. She kissed her softly, just below the ear. “You have me, Miranda.”
“Do I, really?” she asked, sitting up.
“Yes, really. This is the happiest I’ve been in at least ten years.”
“I need you to promise me something,” Miranda said.
“Anything.”
“If we have a disagreement, I need you to promise that you will not dispose of your telecommunications device.”
Andy bit her lip and shrugged. “Ehh, that might be a hard promise to keep.”
Miranda rolled her eyes and playfully swatted her hip. “I’ll give you an endless supply of coins to throw into fountains, how’s that?”
“I promise, then. I’ll do just about anything for you, you know.”
Miranda kissed her and snuggled against her body beneath the duvet. “I love you, too, Andrea.”