Chapter Text
Miranda Priestly wasn't in the building yet, which rarely mattered. Her presence had long since evolved beyond physical limitations. Runway moved around deadlines, expectations and decisions she had not yet made but almost certainly would.
By nine o'clock the office had settled into its usual rhythm. Efficient enough to function. Chaotic enough to destroy everyone psychologically by lunch.
Emily Charlton was already halfway through her second coffee, staring across the office at a man from advertising.
Andrea Sachs watched her from across the floor and wondered whether Emily had ever actually relaxed a day in her life.
Probably not.
"Why is he standing there?"
"He works here."
"That wasn't the question."
The man noticed Emily looking and immediately hurried off.
Apparently satisfied, Emily returned to her computer.
Andy took a sip of her coffee just as Emily finally looked up.
"What happened to the Whitmore briefing?"
Andy blinked.
"Good morning to you too."
Emily clicked through something on her monitor.
"That wasn't an answer."
"It's in your inbox."
Emily checked.
"Why wasn't I informed?"
"Because I emailed it."
Emily looked offended by the concept and stood.
Across the office someone appeared at Emily's elbow carrying a folder.
Emily took it without breaking stride, flipped through three pages, signed something and handed it back.
"Tell them no."
The assistant hesitated.
"They're saying it's urgent."
"They're wrong."
The assistant left quickly.
Andy watched the entire exchange.
"Do you enjoy that?"
Emily looked up from her phone.
"Enjoy what?"
"Being feared."
Emily considered that.
"No."
She thought for a moment longer.
"Being obeyed."
"That's significantly worse."
"Probably."
Andy smiled widely.
Emily pointed at her immediately.
"Stop doing that."
"What?"
"That."
"Smiling?"
"Smiling at me."
"Why?"
Emily looked briefly inconvenienced by the question.
Before she could answer, Nigel appeared beside them.
"Perfect. The children are both here."
Emily rolled her eyes.
"We're adults."
"Debatable."
Emily ignored him.
Nigel turned to Andy.
"Andrea."
Andy looked up.
"Yes?"
"You're coming with me."
Emily didn't even look away from her phone.
"No, she's not."
Andy blinked.
"You don't supervise me."
"I supervise everyone."
Andy looked genuinely alarmed.
"You absolutely do not."
"I do when Nigel is involved."
Nigel placed one hand over his heart.
"That was hurtful."
"It was accurate."
"Unfortunately."
Andy looked between them.
"Should I be concerned?"
"Yes," Emily said.
"No," Nigel said.
"Maybe," he amended.
"See?" Emily said.
Andy looked between them.
"You're both insane."
"We've been told," Nigel said.
Before Andy could object further, Nigel was already steering her away across the floor.
"Come along, Sachs."
"This is a blatant kidnapping."
"It is."
Andy allowed herself to be dragged a few steps before glancing back over her shoulder.
Emily was already watching.
She lifted her coffee in a small, entirely unhelpful salute.
Good luck.
Or condolences.
With Emily it was difficult to tell.
Andy laughed despite herself.
Emily immediately looked offended by that.
Which would have been more convincing if the corner of her mouth hadn't twitched first.
"Why are you smiling?" Nigel asked.
Andy looked away.
"No reason."
Nigel hummed.
Which was somehow worse than asking questions.
-
Andy followed Nigel through two departments and a corridor she was reasonably sure she'd never been down before.
"Where are we going?"
"To watch rich people worry."
Andy looked sideways at him.
"Don't they pay other people to do that?"
"Normally, yes."
Andy sighed.
They stopped outside a large conference room. Through the glass wall Andy could see six people seated around a table. None of them worked at Runway.
She knew that immediately.
Too old.
Too calm.
The kind of people who looked like they made decisions involving numbers large enough to ruin other people's lives.
"Why am I here?"
"Professional curiosity."
"Mine or yours?"
Nigel smiled.
"Excellent question."
Then he pushed the door open.
Every conversation inside stopped.
Andy immediately wanted to leave.
Nigel, unfortunately, walked straight in.
The meeting resumed around them, though not immediately. A few people glanced at Andy.
One executive looked away first. Another exchanged a look with Whitmore before glancing back at Andy.
Andy frowned.
That felt strangely deliberate.
She took the nearest empty chair and tried to look like she belonged there.
It wasn't working.
At the head of the table sat Richard Whitmore, one of Runway's major investors.
Andy recognised him from approximately three thousand articles she had never intended to read.
He continued speaking, "All I'm saying is that reputational risk matters."
Across from him, the Runway executives looked varying degrees of exhausted.
Andy glanced sideways at Nigel.
Nigel was reading a briefing packet as though none of this qualified as a crisis.
The conversation continued.
"People don't care about internal explanations," Whitmore said. "They care about headlines. By the time you've explained what actually happened, the damage is already done."
Andy still wasn't entirely sure what they were discussing, which made all of this feel unnecessarily dramatic.
Whatever it was, it felt less like fashion and more like politics, and it appeared to be making several millionaires nervous.
Someone further down the table sighed.
"We understand that."
"Do you?"
Whitmore folded his hands.
"Because from where I'm sitting, we're treating visibility as though it's harmless."
Nobody responded.
Andy had the distinct impression this conversation had happened several times already. Everyone in the room seemed to know what was happening except her.
The meeting carried on for another fifteen minutes.
Mostly numbers, partnerships and brand positioning.
The kind of conversation that sounded incredibly important while simultaneously making Andy's eyes glaze over.
Eventually the meeting broke apart.
Chairs shifted.
Folders closed.
People stood.
Whitmore left first.
The room seemed to exhale behind him.
Andy looked at Nigel.
"What was that?"
"An expensive headache."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only answer you're getting."
Andy narrowed her eyes.
"Nigel."
Nigel didn't look up from his papers.
"If Miranda wants you to know, she'll tell you."
Andy immediately straightened.
Nigel smiled.
"Exactly."
Which almost certainly meant something.
She followed him back towards the door.
"You're all being weird today."
Nigel laughed.
"You have no idea."
-
By the time Andy escaped Nigel, she was somehow less informed than she'd been before the meeting.
She returned to her desk.
Everything looked normal.
Which was suspicious.
Runway rarely looked normal when senior executives started holding emergency meetings.
Andy set a folder on her desk.
Checked her emails.
Then her messages.
Pretended not to notice the growing feeling that she was missing something important.
Across the floor, Emily was in the middle of a phone call.
"Then tell him no."
Emily's expression flattened.
"No. You're confusing urgency with importance."
A pause.
"No."
She hung up.
Immediately the phone rang again.
Emily answered it without missing a beat.
Andy watched for a second.
Emily caught her looking.
"What."
"Nothing."
Emily narrowed her eyes.
"I don't believe you."
"I had a weird morning."
"That's not new."
Emily returned her attention to the call.
A movement near Miranda's office caught Andy's attention.
Two executives she recognised stepped out.
Both looked tense.
One was carrying a stack of reports. The other looked like he hadn't slept. Neither of them looked particularly happy.
Andy watched them disappear down the corridor.
Then looked towards Miranda's office.
The door was closed.
Which wasn't unusual.
What was unusual was the number of people going in and out of it.
Something was happening.
And somehow everyone seemed to know except her.
Her phone buzzed.
A message from Nigel.
Nigel: Stop looking suspicious.
Andy stared at it.
Then typed back.
Andrea: Stop being mysterious.
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
Nigel: No.
Andy hated him.
A second message arrived.
Nigel: Also Miranda wants Emily at eleven.
Andy frowned.
Before she could think too much about it, Emily's phone rang again.
She glanced at the screen.
For the first time all morning, she looked confused.
She answered immediately.
Then stood.
"Now?"
Emily's expression sharpened.
"Of course."
She ended the call, picked up her notebook and headed directly towards Miranda's office.
Andy watched her go.
The door closed behind her.
And for the first time all morning, Andy was certain of one thing.
Whatever was happening, Emily didn't know what it was either.
-
By five thirty Andy was convinced the day had finally run out of ways to surprise her.
That turned out to be optimistic.
Emily appeared beside her desk.
"Miranda wants us."
Andy looked up.
"Both of us?"
"Apparently."
That was unusual.
Miranda rarely wanted both assistants at once unless something had gone catastrophically wrong.
Emily already looked annoyed.
Which was not reassuring.
A few minutes later they stepped into Miranda's office.
Nigel was there, along with an unfamiliar man in a dark suit whom Andy immediately disliked.
Lawyers had a look.
Emily noticed him too.
"No."
The lawyer blinked.
Miranda didn't look up from the papers on her desk.
"Sit down."
Nobody moved.
"Now."
Andy sat.
Emily sat beside her with visible reluctance.
Nigel stood at the back of the office, looking deeply interested in whatever was about to happen.
The lawyer opened a folder.
"During a routine review of Runway's insurance records, an administrative error was discovered."
Emily's expression didn't change.
Andy already hated where this was going.
The lawyer continued.
"For approximately eight months, Miss Sachs and Miss Charlton have been incorrectly classified as spouses."
Andy laughed, but nobody joined in.
The sound died almost immediately.
Emily hadn't moved.
That was worse.
"Incorrectly," Emily said.
"Yes."
"Then fix it."
The lawyer hesitated.
A bad sign.
"Unfortunately the error extends beyond the insurance records."
Emily sat up slightly.
"Meaning?"
"The classification appears throughout multiple company systems. It has affected insurance records, accommodation and travel expenses for months."
Andy felt her stomach tighten.
"Oh."
The lawyer nodded.
"Correcting it now would require a formal investigation into how the error occurred and how long it has been in place."
Emily folded her arms.
"Fine."
The lawyer looked uncomfortable.
"The investigation would involve both of you and likely last several months. Given the nature of the error, and the fact that the company has financially benefited as a result, it would also become discoverable."
Emily's expression didn't change.
"A scandal."
The lawyer didn't answer.
Which was answer enough.
Andy felt her stomach drop.
Neither she nor Emily had done anything wrong.
That wouldn't matter.
Rumours rarely waited for facts.
The lawyer cleared his throat.
"Miss Charlton's promotion review would likely be delayed indefinitely."
Emily went completely still.
It was the first visible reaction she'd had.
"Miss Sachs would likely be required to disclose the investigation during future editorial applications and vetting processes."
Andy frowned.
"You mean every editor I interview with gets to ask why I was part of an internal investigation?"
The lawyer hesitated.
"Potentially, yes."
The room fell silent.
Finally Miranda spoke.
"What is the alternative?"
The lawyer looked relieved.
"There is one."
Nobody liked the sound of that.
"The classification can be legally formalised."
Andy frowned.
"What does that mean?"
The lawyer hesitated.
Nigel suddenly shifted behind them.
"Formalising means the existing records become accurate."
Silence.
Andy blinked.
Emily blinked.
Then Andy blinked again.
"You're serious?"
The lawyer nodded.
"Yes."
Emily stared at him.
"No."
Miranda looked up.
"No?"
Emily glared at her.
"Absolutely not. It is an insane solution."
"The investigation appears worse."
"Miranda—"
"Your careers currently remain unaffected."
Emily stopped speaking.
That worried Andy more than the argument had.
The lawyer continued.
"The arrangement would need to remain in place for a minimum period of twelve months."
Emily looked at Andy for the first time since the meeting began.
Andy frowned.
"Twelve months?"
"After which the matter can be dissolved without further issue."
One year.
Long enough to be a problem.
Short enough to consider.
Miranda gathered her papers.
"Take twenty-four hours."
She stood.
"Then decide whether you'd prefer a marriage licence or a public investigation."
The door opened.
Miranda paused.
Without turning around she added, "I recommend whichever option requires less paperwork."
Then she left and the office fell silent.
Finally Nigel stood.
"Oh, this is much worse than I thought."
He looked between them.
"This is going to end in chaos."
Then he and the lawyer left.
The door closed behind them softly, and silence settled immediately. For the first time all day, Miranda's office felt strangely large.
Emily remained standing beside the desk while Andy stayed where she was, the paperwork waiting between them.
Finally Emily exhaled.
"This is absurd."
Andy laughed once.
"That's one word for it."
"An accounting error should not legally escalate into marriage."
"It's definitely a design flaw."
Emily shot her a look.
Andy tried and failed not to smile.
"Andrea."
"I'm coping."
"Poorly."
"Correct."
That earned the smallest twitch at the corner of Emily's mouth.
Then it disappeared.
Silence returned.
Eventually Emily sat.
That was the moment it became real. Not the paperwork, not Miranda, but Emily sitting down because she knew she wasn't leaving yet.
Andy watched her for a second.
Then glanced at the forms.
Then back at Emily.
"We'd be married."
Emily closed her eyes briefly.
"Yes."
The answer came too quickly.
Somehow that made it feel more real.
Finally Andy said, "This is insane."
"Obviously."
"And we're actually considering it."
"Apparently."
Neither moved.
A beat passed.
Then another.
Emily looked down at the paperwork.
Andy did the same.
The forms suddenly didn't look hypothetical anymore.
Finally Emily spoke.
"If we do this, we do it properly."
Andy frowned.
"What does that mean?"
"It means consistency."
"That sounds ominous."
Emily ignored that.
"We'd need a shared address."
Andy nodded slowly.
"Okay."
"A coherent timeline."
"Fine."
"Photographs."
Andy paused.
"Photographs?"
"Married people generally possess evidence of each other."
"You make that sound like we're constructing an alibi."
Emily ignored that too.
"And obviously neither of us can date anyone."
Andy completely froze.
That requirement felt unexpectedly restrictive.
"For a year."
"Obviously."
Emily's answer arrived a little too quickly.
She seemed to realise that and added:
"Because we would be married."
"Fake married."
"The distinction becomes significantly less convincing if either of us is seen leaving restaurants with other people."
Annoyingly, Emily had a point.
Emily continued.
"We’d attend most events together."
"Fine."
"We'd have to spend holidays together."
"Sure."
Andy blinked.
"We'd have to tell people."
"Unfortunately."
"My family would assume this was real."
Emily was quiet for a second.
"Mine too."
"My mother would be unbearable."
Emily looked up.
"For the record, I don't think that's a valid legal objection."
Andy laughed.
The sound bounced softly around the office.
Then faded.
The silence that followed felt different.
Heavier.
More honest.
"Emily."
"What?"
"You're making marriage sound like an administrative burden."
"It is an administrative burden."
Andy laughed despite herself.
Emily looked faintly pleased.
The silence that followed felt easier somehow.
Not because the situation had improved.
Because they were both beginning to accept it.
Finally Andy looked down at the paperwork again.
Then back at Emily.
Then back at the paperwork.
"This is still insane."
"Obviously."
"But your plan is disturbingly thorough."
"I know."
Neither looked away.
Emily hadn't argued.
Andy hadn't either.
Which was probably the answer.
Eventually Andy sighed.
"Fine."
Emily's eyebrow lifted.
"Fine?"
Andy gestured vaguely toward the paperwork.
"The least terrible option."
Emily considered that.
Then nodded once.
"The least terrible option."
For a moment neither spoke.
"Congratulations," Andy said dryly.
Emily stared at her.
"On what?"
Andy smiled.
"We're getting married."
Emily went still.
"Don't say it like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you're excited."
"I'm not excited."
"Good."
"Good."
A beat.
"We're getting married."
"Andrea."
Andy grinned.
Emily looked genuinely alarmed.
Which should probably have concerned her more than it did.