After she’d hung up with Miranda and the twins Andy decided that it really wasn’t too early for a phone call to Cincinnati. Her parents were thrilled with the news of her first front page story and Andy agreed to pick up five more copies of the Mirror and mail them to her mother. They had taken out a subscription when she was hired but her mom wanted to make sure she had enough to xerox and pass around at the office and church and her dad’s office and to the neighbors and to perfect strangers wherever she could work Andy’s name into the conversation.

 

When she finally disengaged from her delighted parents Andy grabbed a fast shower and headed for the bedroom to dress. Her ringing phone sidetracked her, this time with a jubilant Doug on the other end. He conferenced Lily onto the call so both of them could congratulate Andy on her front-page article and it didn’t take long for the three of them to agree to meet for breakfast.

 

She quickly donned her oldest and most comfortable 501 jeans, a turtleneck and an Aran Isle sweater her parents bought her on their trip to Ireland. A pair of Ferragamo loafers that Nigel had pinched for her completed the outfit and she grabbed her favorite 3-in-1 parka and gloves and headed out to meet her friends.  When she stepped out of her building, she realized the temperature had dropped considerably from last night. She made a mental note to make sure the twins were dressed properly for an outdoor practice on Tuesday and walked to the corner newsstand. She chuckled to herself as she rode the subway to the Village to meet Doug and Lily imagining the sight she must be with six copies of the Sunday Mirror under her arm. Surprisingly, no one on the train asked to buy any of them.

 

Lily and Doug howled when she walked into the diner, teasing her unmercifully about her proud mother. Andy’s response was a face-splitting grin and a succinct “Bite me!” to both of them. The three friends lingered for a while over breakfast while Andy gave them a blow-by-blow recap of the events of the previous evening including not only the fire but the shopping expedition and dinner with the Priestly clan. Doug and Lily were impressed that Miranda was actually allowing Andy to dictate what her children would and would not do and that so far she hadn’t tried to steamroll Andy in any way. Of course, the twins hadn’t had an official practice yet, so they were reserving judgment for the most part, but still.

 

They pulled up stakes and left the diner when they started getting dirty looks from the owner because the waiting line was out the door. Deciding that they hadn’t spent enough time catching up and just lazing around together, they hopped on the subway and headed for Andy’s place. When they emerged from the subway on Delancy Street Doug and Lily went into the neighborhood deli for bagels and sandwich fixings while Andy dodged into the corner market for some gourmet coffee and football-appropriate munchies. When the three of them entered her apartment they had all the necessary provisions for a long Sunday catch-up and football orgy.

 

Andy called her parents again while Doug and Lily organized the food and coffee. The Sachs were delighted that Andy would be sending them extra copies of the front page and her father related how her mother had been bragging to complete strangers about their journalist daughter while waiting in line to be seated at the local Perkins. Andy, Lily and Doug howled at his account of the story. After promising to mail the extra copies first thing in the morning, Andy hung up the phone and claimed the mug of coffee that Doug was holding out to her.

 

“At least they’ve stopped calling me at work to ask it they should get a second subscription.”

 

“Hey, just be happy your parents are proud of what you do. Have they recovered from you coming home from Paris like that?” asked Lily.

 

“Oh yeah, they’re fine. They were glad I finally left Runway…well, not Runway exactly, but Miranda. When I told them I was going to coach the twins I thought my mom was going to stroke out. I didn’t think she knew some of those words. Apparently, I did a little too good a job of making Miranda out to be a monster while I worked for her. Mom is not happy I’m having anything to do with her again. She still doesn’t get it that Miranda’s recommendation got me the job at the Mirror.”

 

“How’s your dad about it?”

 

“He’s doing better than Mom. Not thrilled, but at least he recognizes that the circumstances are different this time around. That I don’t work for her. But I don’t think Mom is ever going like the idea.”

 

“Then it’s a good thing she’s still in Cincinnati, isn’t it? C’mon, I don’t want to talk about your mother and Miranda. What’s the early game?”

 

“Looks to be the Giants at Jacksonville, then the Jets at Denver,” said Doug, checking the listing in the sports section.

 

“Well, turn on the TV and let’s get comfortable.  We haven’t watched a football together in ages. This should be great!”

 

Later that evening, after cheering themselves hoarse for the local gridiron gladiators, the three friends adjourned to their pub of choice for dinner. The Giants had won, the stout was chilled and life was good.

 

* * * * *

 

The next morning Andy got to work a little earlier than usual. Fortune had smiled on her in the subway station and she’d caught a slightly earlier train than usual. Since it was an express, she even had enough time to hit the Starbucks across from the Elias-Clarke building for a couple of vente lattes to keep her going through the morning. The sight of an already frazzled clacker-in-training begging “No, please, it has to be searing hot!” to the barista made Andy grin in spite of herself. This must be the new second assistant that Emily was trying to train. Only someone who worked for Miranda wore that kind of terrified expression before reporting for work. Resisting the urge to offer the young woman condolences, Andy took her lattes and headed back into the cold morning and work.

 

She had several congratulatory emails waiting for her when she booted up her computer and Bill Hooker made it a point to stop by and tell her he’d enjoyed working with her. A couple of her compatriots from the bullpen hung around her desk wanting details from her night in the spotlight. Andy eradicated the faint stench of professional jealousy by telling them that she got the assignment only because she answered her phone and she was close enough to the blaze to get the story in time to make the morning edition print run. That seemed to satisfy them; however, had they been better investigative journalists they might have inquired why precisely Greg had called her in the first place. Mercifully they weren’t, which was the real reason Andy had gotten the call.

 

Midmorning, as Andy was trying to decipher the scribbled notes she’d taken in an interview the week before with the City Manager, the phone rang.

 

“Andy Sachs.”

 

“Andréa? Be downstairs at noon. You’ll be gone for about an hour; more if you eat lunch.”

 

Grinning and exasperated at the same time, Andy decided to see just how far her newfound friendship with Miranda could be pushed. “Miranda, I don’t work for you anymore. You can’t just order me to go with you and expect me to jump at your command.”

 

There was dead silence on the line for a very long moment. “You’re quite correct, Andréa. Let me rephrase. Would you please consider meeting me in front of your building at noon for about an hour?” Sarcasm dripped from every word and Andy noted the distinct lack of apology in the question.

 

She couldn’t stop herself from laughing at Miranda’s imperious tone. “Yes, Miranda, I’ll be glad to meet you outside. Will I need to bring a photographer along?”

 

“Just yourself. We’ll be in and out of the car but we shouldn’t be outside for long.”

 

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

 

“No, we’ll let it be a surprise. I’ll see you at noon.” The phone clicked in her ear.

 

Shaking her head Andy returned to the interview notes. What the hell happened to my handwriting? I used to be able to read it. Then the answer dawned on her. Miranda had happened to her handwriting. In the months she’d worked for Runway, her once neat script had degenerated into a spiky scrawl from trying to keep up with Miranda’s rapid-fire instructions for most of her days. For some strange reason she wasn’t upset at the realization.

 

Knowing Miranda could be counted on to be early, Andy was waiting on the front steps of the Mirror when the silver Mercedes pulled smoothly to the curb at 11:50 am. Andy waved the driver off and let herself into the back seat beside Miranda. She hadn’t been waiting long, but the bitter temperatures made the heated seats a delight to her chilled backside.

 

“Hello, Miranda. Where are we off to?”

 

“2^nd Avenue and East 63^rd. We are going to be shown some property.”

 

“Property? Are we buying something I don’t know about?”

 

Miranda gave a small smile when she replied, “Merely insuring that you ‘jocks’ don’t get frostbite before lacrosse season begins.”

 

“You found a place for us to practice?” Andy’s jaw dropped.

 

“Emily located a possible venue for your practice facility. We’re on our way to look at it now.”

 

“Our ‘practice facility’? My God, Miranda, you make it sound like we’re a professional sports franchise!” Andy howled with laughter.

 

“And what precisely would you have me call it? Is it not a facility in which you will practice?” The icy tones of Miranda’s reply were negated by the twinkle in her eyes. “Andréa, if you cannot control yourself better than this I may grow to regret my choice of coach for the girls.”

 

Andy laughed even harder but managed to sit up and wipe her eyes as the car pulled to the curb in front of a 12-story building. She had to remind herself that this was Miranda she was dealing with; Miranda who had no concept of restraint where her daughters were concerned. Miranda who never in her life subscribed to the ‘Less is More’ school of anything. Andy decided she wouldn’t be surprised if there was an athletic trainer, masseuse, sports chiropractor and sports psychologist on staff and standing at attention waiting for them. Well, okay, but I draw the line at cheerleaders, she thought.

 

Instead, they found a representative of the building’s management company who greeted Miranda effusively and escorted them to a secure, key operated elevator. The elevator doors opened into a tiled lobby. To the right a door led into a small but fully equipped locker room. To the left, a large storage room. And directly ahead through double glass doors was an indoor lacrosse field. Well, the important parts of one at least.

 

The facility was about twice the size of a basketball court and brightly lit. The floor was covered in synthetic turf and a crew was finishing the painting of a restraining line, goal circle, 8-meter arc, 12-meter fan and hash marks. At the opposite end of the ‘field’ was a full sized center circle for practicing draws. A goal and net was against one wall waiting only for the field paint to dry before installation. Orange cones, several sticks, folding chairs, goalkeeper’s pads and three boxes of lacrosse balls were neatly stacked and awaiting the Priestly twins attentions. Andy was completely thunderstruck.

 

“Miranda, this is amazing! I’m not even going to ask how you managed this. Or how Emily managed this or how whoever managed this! This is perfect. I wish I’d had a place like it to practice when I was playing in college. We couldn’t ask for a better space.”

 

“Is there anything else you will require in terms of equipment? If there is, just leave word with my office and we’ll arrange to have it delivered for you.” Miranda never showed much, but Andy knew she was pleased with Andy’s response to what she had arranged.

 

Andy just shook her head and trotted over to check the equipment. There was nothing more she could think of that they would need to get the twins started. She stuck her head inside the locker room and noted that even here no detail had been overlooked. Fresh towels, soaps, shampoos and every other bathing and grooming necessity was there. Andy could shower after practice and go anywhere with no trace that she’d run herself into a sweaty mess teaching two young girls how to play lacrosse. She headed back to Miranda and the leasing agent.

 

“It’s got everything. Thank you, Miranda.”

 

The leasing agent explained that tomorrow afternoon building security would make Andy and the twins their ID and access cards and would issue Andy and Miranda elevator keys. Security was on the premises 24/7 and the agent said they had arranged for a thorough check of the gym by a security guard shortly before all scheduled practices. Andy nodded in agreement. They shook hands with the leasing agent and walked back outside to Miranda’s waiting car. Once they were settled inside and headed back toward midtown Andy finally asked Miranda how she had done it.

 

“It was fairly simple. I had Emily check with several property management companies. This building had been owned by a dot com entrepreneur who went bankrupt. He built this facility for his personal use.”

 

“Gym, Miranda. It’s called a gym.”

 

“My girls do not do gyms, Andréa. It is your practice facility. At any rate, the owner went bankrupt in the dot com bust and when they sold the building, the facility was just closed off. Apparently, it was decided that it would not be worth it to refurbish the space. I arranged to lease it for your use for six months with an additional option if we require it. Then I had Emily call and find out what equipment you might need and had it delivered.”

 

“All I can say is that the girls had better keep their mouths shut at school. If the coach at Dalton ever finds out where they’re practicing, you’re going to have the school begging you to let them use it too.”

 

Miranda merely smiled as Roy waited to turn south onto Park Avenue. “Do you have enough time for lunch, Andréa?”

 

Much as she would have liked to join Miranda, Andy had to be truthful.  “Not really. I’m in the middle of a follow-up article that’s time-sensitive. I’ve got to get it finished up today. How about you?”

 

“I should get back to the office too. We have a run-through scheduled that promises to be less than memorable. I’m afraid it will take most of the afternoon to get it right.”

 

“Well then, let me get lunch. Roy, head for 56^th and 7^th. Drop me off where I tell you and then loop the block.”

 

As the town car pulled to the curb, Andy jumped out and Roy swung smoothly back into traffic. Andy jogged a short distance to a street vendor and waved to the owner as she neared. He greeted her effusively. She’d named his cart in an article on survival in Midtown and he took special care of her as a result. She ordered two steak and chicken platters with cans of ginger ale and the lunches were quickly bagged for her. It was an open secret among Miranda’s employees that Roy was a connoisseur of street cuisine and Andy knew that as soon as he had returned Miranda to Runway he’d be getting his own lunch from a street vendor.

 

When the Mercedes pulled to the curb a minute later, she jumped in the back seat and told him to continue east on 56^th to Lexington Avenue and then swing south to 51^st street.

 

“Street food?” Miranda demanded archly as Andy set a plastic bag in her lap. “You expect me to eat street food? My God, this bag must weigh five pounds. Are you trying to kill me?”

 

“This isn’t just street food, Miranda. This is the haute cuisine of street food. This is a Carnegie John’s steak and chicken platter. It doesn’t get any better than this.”  A minute later, she leaned forward and tapped Roy on the shoulder as he turned onto 51^st street. “Pull up behind the yellow van. And wait for me. I won’t be long.”

 

She was true to her word and a minute or so later, she opened the back door and handed in yet another plastic bag to her former boss.

 

“Dessert. Thanks, Miranda. The Mirror is just across the street so I’ll leave you here. The practice facility is great. I promise we’ll put it to good use.” Grinning she shut the door and slapped the roof to let Roy know she was clear of the car. The Mercedes immediately swung back into the traffic flow headed west toward the Elias-Clarke building.

 

When Miranda strode into the outer office Emily and Nigel froze in shock. Not only had she returned nearly an hour before expected but also appeared to be carrying plastic bags of…food with her. And not her usual Smith & Wollensky bag either. Nor a take away bag from another fashionable midtown eatery. This looked almost like something you’d find from a…from a…Emily shuddered at the thought…from a street cart!   

 

She leaped to relieve Miranda of her coat and bag and hurriedly handed them off to the new assistant to hang up as Miranda’s voice quietly summoned her into the office.

 

“Emily, I’ll need some flatware and a glass of ice.” Emily was shocked to see her boss nonchalantly removing foil and styrofoam containers from the plastic bags onto her pristine desk. She darted into the adjoining kitchenette and brought silverware, a plate, napkin and the ice-filled glass into Miranda on a tray. When she re-entered the office a heady aroma filled the air. To her horror, Miranda was looking interestedly at a foil dish containing a large pile of grilled meats, onions, rice and a salad all liberally covered with several kinds of sauce. A smaller styrofoam dish held a Belgian waffle with cinnamon, sugar and a dollop of whipped cream.

 

“I won’t need the plate, Emily. This will do nicely. And since I’m back so much earlier than I planned, let’s move the run through up to 1:45,” she said, pouring the ginger ale into the crystal glass. Glancing up she saw the look of stunned horror on her assistant’s face as she slid the napkin onto her lap, picked up the fork and prepared to take a bite of her lunch.

 

“That’s all.”