Disclaimer: These characters belong to Lauren Weisberger and 20th Century Fox.  No infringement is intended or profit made from this work. I'm just borrowing them for a bit and I promise to put them back when I'm finished. Whether or not they'll ever be the same again is anybody's guess.

Chapter 7

Andy didn’t have time to wonder why she’d responded to Miranda’s touch as she had. A major corruption scandal broke shortly after their dinner at the Oak and Thistle and Andy had been assigned as lead researcher to the investigative team working the story. Her eyes were constantly bleary from staring at computerized records, she only ate when the pain in her stomach reminded her that something needed to go into her gut and she lived on two hours of sleep a night. She was haggard, exhausted, run-ragged and the happiest she could ever remember being.

Andy was grateful to be coaching the Priestly twins. At least she could use that excuse to take a couple of hours off every afternoon and get some fresh air and exercise. The girls were still making excellent progress and Andy was sure that they’d win places on the Dalton team. However, she’d been forced to cancel two practices in the past two weeks and she wanted to make it up to the girls. Granted, they were the offspring of Miranda Priestly and therefore knew better than anyone the meaning of ‘have to work’. All the same, Andy wanted them to know that she regretted the fact that she had not been able to work with them. To that end, she had phoned her college coach and arranged to get DVDs of both of Northwestern’s national championship games, hoping that some weekend she and the girls could watch the games and discuss strategy, teamwork and position play.

She downloaded the last of her reports to the Metro editor on Thursday afternoon and sent emails with the timeline summary of the scandal to the lead reporters. She hadn’t been home since she dashed in for a quick shower and change of clothes early Wednesday morning and the thought of a long hot bath and uninterrupted sleep was heaven. She gathered her things preparing to leave when the envelope from Evanston reminded her of other obligations. She dropped back into her seat and dialed Runway.

“Hi Emily, it’s Andy. I know she’s probably in the middle of something, but is there any chance I could speak with her for just a minute? I swear I’ll be quick.” She smiled at the response and waited a moment.

“Andréa? Are you all right? Emily said you sounded unwell.”

“Just tired, Miranda. I finally finished the last of my reports on the bid-rigging scandal and I’m about to head home and crash. I have a couple of DVDs of some of my college games that I’d like to show the girls to apologize for canceling their practices. What do their schedules look like?”

“Their father had to cancel this weekend with them. I swear the man gets worse every month about his obligations. Why don’t you join us for dinner tomorrow evening and then watch your games afterwards? I’m going to the MOMA Black and White Gala and I’m sure the girls would love to have you all to themselves for an evening. Say 6:15?”

“The MOMA Black and White? Isn’t that on Valentine’s Day? But that’s not for…” Glancing at the time and date icons on her computer screen Andy realized her mistake and laughed aloud. “Oh, God, I’m in worse shape than I thought! Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. I’m sorry, Miranda. I haven’t had nearly enough sleep in the past couple of weeks. I’d love to have dinner with you all tomorrow night. I’ll be there.” Andy couldn’t quite conceal the huge yawn that interrupted her speech. Miranda chuckled and told her to go home and get some rest.

“The girls will not be as sympathetic to your fatigue as I am. We’ll see you tomorrow night.”

By the time she arrived at the townhouse the next evening Andy was feeling like a new woman. A day of catching up on all the sleep she’d missed, eating whatever struck her fancy and luxuriating in two long, hot baths had done the trick and her usual good humor was evident as Cassidy answered the door and pulled her inside with a shriek.

“Caroline! She’s here! Come downstairs!” Pounding footsteps in the upstairs hallway gave ample evidence that Caroline was enroute and a moment later she clattered down the steps and hugged Andy exuberantly.

“So what movies did you bring for us to watch? It’s not something educational, is it? Who’s starring in it?”

“Hang on. Let me catch my breath! Okay, let me see; I didn’t bring movies per se. Yes, they’ll be educational but fun too. And I’m a star in one of them. How’s that sound?”

Both twins frowned slightly as they tried to figure it out. Caroline hit on it first. “You brought videos of your lacrosse games!”

“That’s right. I’ve got both of Northwestern’s national championship games. They’ll be a big help to show you position play and strategies for getting a good shot off. Not as good as a Zac Efron movie I know, but will they do?”

In answer, the twins each grabbed and arm and began to pull her toward the media room. As they hit the main hallway, Miranda came out of the first floor study and greeted Andy. She wore the same gray robe she had in Paris and had obviously not yet begun to dress for her evening gala.

“Girls, do not drag Andréa around like a reluctant playmate. She’s here of her own volition and I’m sure will follow you if you ask her to.”

“But not fast enough, Mom! C’mon, Andy! Mrs. Wegmann made that pork we like.”

Andy allowed the twins to manhandle her into the kitchen, followed by an amused but tolerant Miranda. ‘That pork we like’ turned out to be a pork loin marinated in citrus juices and garlic, crusted with herbs and slow-roasted.  Andy took one bite and decided on the spot that you probably could have an orgasm from simply tasting food. Even Miranda, who always seemed to pick at whatever delicious meal was before her, appeared to eat with gusto. A wild-rice stuffing and fresh peas rounded out the meal and by the time they had finished, Andy was wondering if she could get away with napping on the couch while the girls watched the games. Probably not.

Miranda excused herself to go upstairs and dress while Andy and the girls rinsed the dishes and loaded the dishwasher. Once they’d straightened up, Andy sent them upstairs for notebooks and pens while she loaded a tray with drinks and headed to the media room. While Cassidy powered up the plasma TV and home theatre system, Andy explained that they were going to watch the games as a learning exercise and would be stopping and starting them frequently.

They settled onto the couch, Andy keyed the remote to ‘PLAY’ and the screen lit up with the caption “NCAA 2005 – Division I Women’s Lacrosse Championship: Northwestern University v. University of Virginia” The twins squealed with delight and pounced on Andy as the teams were introduced. They quickly identified Andy as the 2^nd Home for Northwestern and settled in to watch the game.

When Miranda came downstairs half an hour later, she heard Andy before she got to the media room.

“Okay, now I want you to look closely at the offensive alignment here. We’re about to run a stack offense. Look how the 1^st Home is positioned behind the cage. Since they’ve got the best view of the field, they’ll run the play. They call ‘stack’ and… here….let me pause this….okay, here. Look at the other attackers and how we’re positioned. See the tight line facing the goal? That’s the basis of the stack. Now, let’s watch it develop in slow motion. The 1^st Home gives the ‘go’ sign and everybody breaks in a different direction: I’m headed straight for the goal, the 3^rd Home is breaking right and the Center is breaking left. Now here’s what makes this work. Watch this wing sprint in and cut diagonally across the goal from all the way over here. Now watch what happens to the defense. See them all bunch up toward the top of the arc? Then check out that wing right here….she’s wide open. A quick stick pass and she’s got a clean shot on goal.”

Miranda stood in the doorway and watched Andy in front of the TV intently pointing out the important aspects of the play and her daughters scribbling notes just as intently as they studied it. As Andy moved away from the television Miranda walked into the room. The soft voice behind her made Andy turn.

“The car will be here in a moment, girls. I just came in to say goodbye.” The twins jumped up and hugged their mother, careful not to disturb hair, makeup or couture. Miranda usually wore black to formal affairs and tonight was no exception. She had on a vintage Bill Blass sheath; his take on the Chanel ‘little black dress’. It was off the shoulder and displayed an impressive amount of flawless skin. While Miranda did not usually favor necklaces with eveningwear, tonight she wore a dazzling set of pearls that served to accent her luminous complexion. Manolo Blahniks, matching pearl studs at her ears and a diamond bracelet completed the ensemble.

It was a good thing the girls had jumped up to hug their mother because Andy suddenly had trouble breathing. As her oxygen intake plummeted, the neural interface between the speech centers of her brain and her mouth evaporated. All she could do was stare like a teenage boy. To make matters worse, Miranda’s perfume was making her decidedly dizzy. Or perhaps it was because her diaphragm had ceased to work. Or her lungs. Or most higher brain functions.

Oh my God! She’s amazing!

Andy’s spinning brain fought to comprehend what was happening to her. She had seen Miranda dressed in eveningwear many times and never reacted this way. Yeah, but you worked for her then; she was your boss and dress-up was business. Andy felt like a horny adolescent; her heart was pounding, her hands were tingling and she was decidedly damp in a place that had nothing to do with lacrosse. She’s looking at you! She’s going to expect you to say something! Jesus, Sachs, get a grip!

Summoning control she did not know she possessed, Andy dragged her gaze away from the vision that was Miranda as she paused the TV and tossed the remote on the sofa. Drawing a deep but shaky breath, she turned back to an amused Miranda whose eyes twinkled knowingly.

“Do you like my ensemble, Andréa?”

“I’ve never known you to fish for compliments before, Miranda. You know as well as I do that you look breathtaking. No one will be looking at MOMA’s art tonight – they’ll all be looking at you.”

“Why, thank you, Andréa.” Miranda’s voice had dropped in timbre and there was just a hint of huskiness in it. That had the effect of making Andy’s knees weak in addition to her palpitating heart, tingling fingers and throbbing….what the fuck is wrong with me? I’ve never in my life been attracted to another woman, but so help me God, if the twins weren’t in the room with us I’d throw Miranda down and ravish her until neither of us could walk. I wonder how soft her skin is. What would she sound like if I were to run my hands down her…Oh God, do not go there! I must be losing my mind!

Andy had no earthly idea how she managed to maintain control over her bodily functions until Miranda had donned her coat and was safely ensconced in the back seat of the car, but she did. She and the twins returned to the lacrosse lessons and by the end of the first game’s film, she felt they’d learned a lot. They took a break to recharge drinks and in the kitchen Caroline surprised Andy.

“I don’t see why Mom has to go to those stupid balls and galas and stuff,” she complained. “Like tonight; why did she have to go to that dumb dance when she could have been here with us?” Andy sensed far more than curiosity in the question and hesitated slightly before answering.

“You know a lot of those parties and balls she goes to are for work. She goes representing Runway and Elias-Clarke.”

“They’re boring. What do they do all night that’s so fun?”

“Well, they’re not quite so boring if you like to dance.”

“Dance? Like crumpin’?” To Andy’s amazement and horror, the twins began to gyrate and flail around the kitchen like spastic marionettes.

“Do I even want to ask what that was supposed to be? A pop and lock?” The twins howled because pop and lock was so last year.

“Uh, guys? Got a tip for you: don’t quit your day jobs. So You Think You Can Dance is not going to be calling any time soon.” Caroline snorted Hawaiian punch out her nose and the twins laughed even harder. Andy mopped up with paper towels she found under the sink. When the girls had regained a semblance of control over themselves the discussion continued.

“So what kind of dancing do they do at these things?”

“You know; classic ballroom dancing. The foxtrot, waltz, two-step, some Latin dances. The kind of dancing where you and your partner actually touch while you’re dancing. It’s for sure your Mom isn’t going to crump in that Bill Blass she was wearing.”

“How do you know so much about this stuff? I thought only old people knew about that…stuff.”

“My Mom and Dad like to dance. They would go every week and take lessons with another couple they were friends with. Then they’d come home and practice. They taught my sister and me.”

Cassidy looked thunderstruck. “You mean you know how to dance that stuff too?”

“Yeah, I can dance ‘that stuff’. What’s wrong with that? It’s kinda fun.”

“Show us.”

Andy stared at Cassidy in disbelief.  “What?”

“You said you could dance that stuff…show us.”

Me and my big mouth. “Uh, guys, it’s not that easy. I mean the dancing isn’t hard, but you need the right kind of music and the right kind of floor. You can’t dance on carpet. You need a hardwood or tile floor to be able to get the footwork right.”

“We’ve got one of those. C’mon.” The twins pulled Andy down the hall an threw open a set of double doors. She looked into the private sitting room and her jaw dropped. The long walls were floor to ceiling bookcases. The floor was a three-toned hardwood inlay pattern. Two settees faced each other on an area rug in the center of the room. Andy realized that they could have their hardwood floor with very little difficulty.

“Okay, one of you stay here with me and we’ll move the furniture. The other has to get us some music.”

“I’ll download some and burn a CD. What kind do I need?”

“Concentrate on Sinatra or Tony Bennett or stuff from the Big Band Era. The foxtrot is danced in 4|4 time, the quickstep in 2|4 or 4|4, and the waltz in 3|4. Knock yourself out.”

Ten minutes later, Caroline and Andy had slid the settees to the end of the room and rolled up the small rug between them. Cassidy appeared waving a CD and carrying a small boom box. A moment to plug it in and they were ready to go.

“Okay, ladies. We’ll start with the foxtrot. The basic step pattern is slow-quick-quick or slow-slow-quick-quick. We’ll start with slow-quick-quick because it’s easier for beginners and you don’t have to worry about not finishing a step on the downbeats. To begin, let’s get you into dance positions.”

Andy assumed the man’s position and showed each twin proper posture and position. When they felt comfortable with that, she began with the basic forward step and the basic backward step. The twins seemed generally unimpressed until Andy combined the two into a box step. She put on Sinatra singing “The Summer Wind”, held out her arms to Caroline and away they went. Cassidy held her sides laughing and offered bad advice and derisive comments from one of the settees. That was all well and good until Andy sent Caroline to sit and grabbed Cass to dance.

She replayed the Sinatra song and started off with Cass who quickly decided it was a lot harder than it looked. Now it was Caroline’s turn to laugh.

“Don’t look down at your feet, look at me. You two play the piano; I know you can feel the beat. Just relax and keep count in your head. Slow-quick-quick, slow-quick-quick. Your feet will take care of themselves. Remember, I’m leading. I’ll show you where to go from the way I hold you and move my arms and upper body. Caroline? Did you feel me gently pulling you toward me when I wanted you to move forward?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Well, that’s what leading is. It’s showing your partner where you’re going next and very possibly what you’re going to do next. A strong lead will always be able to indicate to their partner what’s coming next and an accomplished partner knows the steps so well that the slightest indication from the lead and she’ll know what to do. It does take a lot of practice to get it right.”

“How come the girls always have to go backwards?”

“Because if the lead was going backwards they’d probably crash into the other dancers. Right Andy?”

“That’s right, Cass. You’re getting better…more relaxed. That’s good. Caroline, play that song again.”

“I still think it isn’t fair that we don’t get to see where we’re going just because we’re girls.”

The cool voice from the doorway took them all by surprise.

“You’re absolutely correct, darling. It’s not fair. So any time you hear somebody say what a great dancer Fred Astaire was always remember that Ginger Rogers did the same thing he did going backwards and in heels.”

To Andy’s utter terror, Miranda walked across the room, tapped Cassidy on the shoulder, said quietly, “May I cut in?” and stepped into Andy’s arms.

Andy didn’t know whether to shit, run or go blind.