widdy26

Title: Driving Miranda – Chapter 21

Author: Widdy
Disclaimer: I don't own the Devil Wears Prada, or Miranda or Andy, unfortunately someone else does so I'm just borrowing them I will return them after I'm done.
Rating: PG-13
Feedback: Yes feel free to feed me.
Pairings:  Andy/Nate, Miranda/Stephen, Andrea/Miranda eventually.
Summary: While Roy is ill Miranda gets an interesting new driver.
Beta: Amelie (thank you so much for your help!!)
A/N: This chapter deals with the aftermath of a violent encounter that may include triggers for some readers, and may be upsetting or cause offence to some readers. If this is you then please to not read. Thank you.




 

Chapter 21

Miranda walked straight past the young redheaded woman seated at a desk in the walnut panelled hallway of Fellows, Fellows, & Moore. Miranda ignored the woman as she looked up in disbelief and then quickly placed the phone she held back onto its receiver. She scrambled from behind her desk, her pencil skirt desperately splaying at the bottom to accommodate the woman’s sudden movement. Her hair had been pulled back severely from her face, and the bulk of hre ginger tresses were twisted upwards and pinned by several well placed gold pins. On the bridge of her freckled nose rested a delicate pair of gold rimmed glasses in a style that harkened back to the 50’s.

Her clothes Miranda observed could have come straight out of the pages of her magazine. Not a single piece draped on the woman’s body was worth under $500. She didn’t know the salary of clerical assistants was so well paying, if one could afford such garments. Her own assistants, while well dressed, with the help of Nigel, tended to glean their clothes from the closet. However, this girl’s clothes looks as if they had been fitted. Miranda couldn’t help but smirk, either the girl came from a wealthy family or she had very rich sugar-daddy.

The girl continued to call out for her to stop and Miranda continued to ignore her.

“Ms. Priestly you’re early, Mr Moore isn’t ready for you yet.”

“He’ll see me.”

“But Mr Moore...”

Miranda removed her gloves and shrugged of her coat, as the redheaded girl drew level with her and matched her stride Miranda threw her overcoat and leather gloves at the girl.

She stopped at Alan’s office and opened the door.

The man she had come to see was leaning over his desk. His jacket was hung neatly upon a hanger by the doorway. Alan Moore was an impressive man; he stood over 6 ft tall and was always immaculately dressed. He wasn’t what you would call dashing, no, he was more rugged. He was a man who looked like he would be better suited to breaking horses on some ranch in the Wild West. His body was big and strong, he seemed to have been sculpted from stone. The dress shirt was tailored perfectly to match his massive wing span; he was using every inch of the fabric as he had his arms spread wide as he leaned over a file.

He absently called out as the door opened. “Miss Darby, I do believe I told you that I wasn’t to be disturbed.”

“I know Mr Moore but Ms Priestly...”

“Yes Alan, I didn’t give the girl much of a chance.”

A large smile broke out on the face of the man before her. “Miranda, come in.”

Alan straightened up and after two strides Miranda found herself engulfed in his massive arms. The heavy scent of his cologne filled her nostrils. He pulled back and Miranda observed him as he nodded to his assistant and then looked her over. His moss green eyes, enlarged by the glass of his rectangle tortoise shell rimmed glasses, sparkled with mischief and joy.

Miranda leaned up and kissed him gently on the cheek. She had known Alan for over 30 years. He was one of the first people she had met when she had fist moved to New York to take over Runway. He had been nothing more than a fresh faced young attorney. His father had made his money in the oilfields and he had made sure all his sons where educated, Alan had the pleasure if becoming the lawyer in the family. Instead of returning home he had stayed in New York and worked his way up the ladder.

Agatha Fellows, along with her younger brother had started and ran the firm for over 50 years. While both Agatha’s Son and Nephew were a partner Miranda disliked both. Alan had taken over as Miranda lawyer Agatha had retired from her position as head of Fellows and Fellows had. That was also the year that Alan made partner and had his name added to the title. Fellows & Fellows became Fellows, Fellows, & Moore.

“Alan, how are you?”

Alan disengaged his arms and then directed Miranda to take a seat in the plush leather lounger that sat across from his own desk.

Miranda gazed around the office she had been in here many times. It was originally Agatha’s office, it hadn’t changed much, and it still had much of the same furniture. Well worn modern classics, the only additions to the office where three framed photographs that sat upon the desk and a Warhol painting upon one wall.

“Well, I am well Miranda. I should be on my way to Singapore to oversee the opening of our new offices.”

Smirking Miranda gently ran her fingers through her coifed hair. “What stopped you?”

Alan chuckled slightly and then removed his glasses. Her placed his forearms upon his desk and leaned forward. “You did, my dear.”

“Surely that didn’t stop you?”

Alan gave a shake of his head; he had never quite lost that southern twang. Miranda knew that a lot of women found it attractive. She once had.

“Miranda, would you really have accepted the help of one of my associates?”

“No. Now Agatha has retired, I want only you handling my affairs.”

“As I do my dear. However, I do have a promising young paralegal that will be helping me sort this out.”

“Alan, this is a delicate situation.”

“Oh, she is completely trustworthy; she’s a fellow Texan my dear. In fact she has already been in touch with your publicist.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, I was busy this morning with Miss Derby, sorting out the details of my rescheduled trip. So, I was forced to have Miss Collins handle the liaison with Lesley.”

Miranda nodded, she trusted Alan implicitly. He didn’t give praise easily, and she hadn’t received a call from Lesley, so the young Miss Collins must be capable.

“I do hope that the damage is not going to be too astronomical?”

“Miranda, Lesley will do her best, it’s what you pay her for. More important it is what you pay me for. Still, I do believe that this is the best way.”

Miranda sighed, she knew that. She knew that there was no point in staying in a fruitless relationship. Hanging on to some hope of domestic bliss that was nothing more than a pipe dream bordered on desperate. She was not desperate, nor was she going to allow Stephen to be the one end their relationship. No, she would not let him have the satisfaction. “I know that Alan, I’m nothing if not ahead of the game.”

“Yes,” Alan smiled fully and Miranda felt her eyes roll and an answering smile over take her face. She knew what was going to come from Alan’s mouth. “You look as fabulous as always.”

“Alan, don’t!”

Alan held up his hands. “Why you married Stephen I will never know. You should have married me.”

“You were already married. Besides, you love your wife and she is very influential. You are a notorious flirt and having dinner with you would no doubt cause a scandal.

“Oh come on Miranda!”

“No, I have to attend a luncheon at the Met on Thursday morning; your wife will no doubt be there. I have a reputation.”

Alan laughed; Miranda knew he couldn’t deny the fact that he loved his wife. He was a terrible flirt and he and Helen had their problems, but they always ended up back together. Miranda had been tempted by Alan once; however his wife Helen was quite the woman. She didn’t work but she spent all her time networking, anyone who wanted to life in New York in peace did not cross her, Miranda had never been a fool. She had politely declined Alan's advances.

“For being evil?”

“Please, my sins hardly measure up to yours.”

Alan laughed and leaned back in his chair. Her placed the tip of the arm of his glasses in his mouth and tapped it upon his teeth. “Ahh, is that a dig at my profession?”

Miranda raised her left eyebrow a millimetre and gently pursed her lips. “Of course, my grandmother always did say that God wanted to chastise mankind, so he sent lawyers.”

“A wise woman. So you want a divorce?” Alan placed his glasses back on his face and moved forwards. It appeared to Miranda that they were about to get down to business.

“Yes.”

“So what do you want?”

“I want Stephen out of my life, I want an uncomplicated separation, and if we have to be separated for a period so be it. However, what’s mine is mine, and what’s Stephen's is Stephen's. He can have his money and assets. I want the townhouse and...”

“What?”

“I want his assurance that he will be quite, and leave this relationship amicably.”

“I don’t know if I can wrangle that,” Alan huffed. He didn’t like Stephen. They had sat on opposing side many times; Miranda knew he had also beaten Stephen more times that she could count. “I will have a go; you know what he is like, he is going to want to drag your name through the mud.”

“I’ll crush him.”

“I have no doubt of it, but he will try and drag you down with him. Is that all you want?”

“I want him to suffer,”

“Has he been unfaithful?”

“I have no doubt of it!”

“Have you got any evidence?”

“I thought I was paying you for that! To be honest, never really cared about which bimbo he was screwing in his office.” Miranda paused as a small smile crossed Alan’s face. “Why are you smiling? What do you know?”

“I have a... little something that I am looking into.” Alan’s face twisted and he played with the rim of his glasses

“Relating to Stephen?”

One swift nod came from the southern attorney. “Of course,”

“What?”

Miranda watched as Alan opened a draw in his desk and removed a small file. He opened the file and then handed it over.

Miranda lifted her bag from the floor and unhooked the two clasps. She removed her glasses from their case and placed them delicately upon the end of her nose. She scanned the information and then raised shocked eyes to the man before her.

Alan’s eye’s were shining with demented glee and Miranda joined him. She couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. She didn’t know how Alan had gotten a hold of this information, but it was astonishing and would be the biggest bargaining chip she could ever hope for.

“Is this real?” her voice was a mere whisper, as she took a long pleasurable breath of oxygen into her lungs.

“Yes, all Miss Collins' work. As, I said, a very promising paralegal. I have no doubt that it shall read Fellows, Fellows, Moore & Collins one day.”

Miranda nodded, and then her head moved from side to side in disbelief. “Where did she get this information?”

Alan smiled in bemusement and shrugged his shoulders. “I have no idea, she handed that to me half an hour before you arrived with a smile.”

“Can you confirm this?”

“I have her chasing up the leads and making sure it’s all legitimate.”

“How will it take you to draw up the papers?”

“I will have them finished Thursday morning and delivered in the afternoon.”

“And this?”

“All should be confirmed by Monday morning. I presume I will be contacted by Stephen's lawyer the moment he receives the papers. As soon as I have this confirmed, I will arrange a meeting. I shall have Miss Derby contact Miss Charlton with the details.”

“Alan, thank you.”

“Save that for when I have everything sorted out. If this pans out, well, as my granddaddy used to say, we will have him hogtied over a barrel.”

“A wonderful analogy. Your Granddaddy Moore certainly was full of words of wisdom.”

“He sure was.”

Miranda stood and glanced at her watch. She was due back at Runway; Andrea had to get the girls. Miranda knew there wouldn’t be time for her to take her back to Runway; she supposed the twins would get a surprise when she turned out to be waiting for them in the back of the Bentley.

Alan pressed the intercom and asked for Miss Derby to bring Miranda’s things. Miranda gently removed her glasses and placed them in her bag. She was smoothing down her skirt when Alan moved around his desk and then leaned back upon the edge. It was a position she often struck herself when intimidating one of her staff members. Alan’s posture was anything up intimating, no this was alluring.

“How about you let me take you for dinner?”

The image of brown hair and brown eyes filled Miranda’s mind. A scent couldn’t quite identify filled her scenes. She gently shook her head dislodge the image of the woman whom she had nearly kissed mere hours before.

“I don’t think Helen would approve,”

Alan gave a shake of his head as the door to the office opened and the redhead Miss Derby entered holding out Mirada’s coat and gloved. “No, she wouldn’t. You can’t blame me for trying.”

“No, I can’t.”

“Such modesty!”

Miranda smirked at the sarcastic element in Alan’s voice. She accepted the items from Miss Derby and donned her over coat. With a quick 'bye' and 'keep me informed' Miranda strode for the office. She fished her phone from her bag and then flicked through her numbers. She frowned when she didn’t find Andrea’s number; she should have possession of her own driver’s cell number!

Miranda pressed the third number on her speed dial; she was going to chastise Emily for her lack of foresight.

****

As the glass doors that lead to the offices and the New York branch of the Law firm of Fellows, Fellows, & Moore opened, Andy dipped her body and opened the door to the car.

She glanced up and automatically felt a smile blossom on her face.

As Miranda grew near, Andy watched as she gave her an answering smile before she slipped into the back of the car.

Andy closed the door and then she joined Miranda by entering the car. Andy turned the key in the ignition and checked her mirrors before she pulled into the heavy afternoon traffic.

“Did Emily call you Andrea?” Andy couldn’t help smiling at the way Miranda insisted upon calling her Andrea. She still felt a little strange around Miranda after this morning, but the older woman had made her feel warm and safe.

“Yes she did, Miranda.”

“Then you know we are to head straight to Dalton, Emily has called Cara to tell her not to worry that you haven’t collected her.”

“Yes Miranda, I’m headed there now.”

“Good.”

Silence filled the car and Andy couldn’t help but smile, she felt lighter somehow, the oppressive feeling Nate had piled was lifting. While she was still scared that he might try something, she had Lily and Kyle and she had something with Miranda. What that something was, she wasn’t yet ready to define. Her mind refused to let her delve any deeper into the feelings the other woman seemed to bring to the forefront of her heart.

Andy glanced in the rear-view and saw that Miranda was staring right back at her.

“Does it hurt Andrea?”

“Pardon?” Frowning Andy quickly shifted her eyes back to the road.

“Your face? Your lip? Does it hurt?”

Andy bunched her shoulders as she considered the question. For a fleeting moment Andy wondered if she should lie, she wondered whether she should just put a brave face on it and pretend that she felt no pain.

The tall brunette glanced in her rear-view mirror once more and started deep into those blue eyes that regarded her closely. No, Miranda would know if she lied. “Well yes, yes it does.”

 “He was a fool Andrea, a fool to strike you in such a manor.”

Miranda’s face hardened slightly and Andy watched as the silver haired editor slipped on her sunglasses, and turned her eyes towards window to observe the bustling city beyond.

Chapter 22