widdy26

Title: Driving Miranda – Chapter 24

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 contains bad language.

Chapter 24

Miranda gazed at the cell phone on her desk and sighed. It was the third time it had rang in seven minutes. The office phone that Emily was manning had received several calls from the same individual.

Miranda had never been one to hide from anything, but at that moment she felt tired.

She had received a call from Alan at 7:30 this very morning telling her he had just handed the papers over to the served. A sense of exhaustion had set in as the words had washed over her ears.

She knew Stephen was going to be insufferable. At 9:00 she had received another call from Alan informing her that Stephen had demanded they have their meeting on Friday. She refused. She was not prepared. Alan was not yet prepared.

She knew what Stephen was going to be like. He was difficult and arrogant, and to put it in plain, derogatory terms he was a bastard.

The constant phone calls all morning confirmed her fears. Stephen was going to be difficult.

Her phone rang once more; the shrill ring invaded every orifice of the office. Miranda gazed up and watched as both Emily and Tiffany cast their eyes back down to their desks; no doubt they had been observing her. A glass office might look appealing; it however offered little in the way of privacy.

The ringing stopped.

Miranda frowned, she had work to do, and Nigel had been nagging her incessantly to look at the work of a young photographer he had discovered. Apparently the boy was talented and was just what Runway needed for the upcoming January issue. She had fired the previous photographer and needed a new one to take over and offer input for a ‘new blood’ shoot.

Nigel had sent her the boy’s portfolio on PDF.

Miranda glanced at the Mac Book on her desk. The display glared, and so did the model on the screen, her hair was styled, thick waves of light brown curled and bounced upon her shoulders. One wave fell from her crown and partially obscured one eye; the light green globe was from impediment and shone out defiantly. A heavy sweep of blue eye shadow dominated the framed eye, Miranda’s own eyes tracked down the photograph and down the girls face. Her nose was small, and perfect, two full lips had been painted pink. Her torso was covered in a black leather jacket and the tantalising view of one breast was given, and enhanced by the real feature of the piece.

All the beauty of the model was inconsequential; she was nothing, she was just there to sell the product. The real star was she was wearing. A white gold ‘Zip Pom Pom’ Van Clef & Arpels necklace encrusted with diamonds hung from her neck instantly drawing your eye, the lighting in the photograph was phenomenal, the diamonds did not just catch the light they commanded in. a silver studded leather cuff by Hermes cupped her wrists and on the other wrist there were several ‘trinity’ bangles by Cartier.

The construction of the photograph was masterful, clearly following a path showing the beauty and elegance that people could possess. Miranda nodded slightly as she let her eye follow the carefully constructed path. Yes, Nigel was right; the young man would have to do.

A ringing drew Miranda attention back into the present. Looking down she frowned and decided to face the inevitable.

“Hello Stephen.”

“What the hell is this Miranda?”

Rolling her eyes Miranda removed her spectacles and leaned back in her chair. She spun around and gazed out of the window.

“What is what Stephen? I didn’t know I had developed the ability to see what you see.”

“You know I’m taking about Miranda! Divorce papers! You served me fucking divorce papers!”

“Yes.”

“Yes? Is that all you have to say?”

“Yes. Pray tell Stephen what more is there to say?”

“You bitch!”

“As eloquent as always Stephen.”

“You can’t divorce me.”

“Can I not?”

“No, you don’t have grounds.”

“Stephen, I would have thought you would be happy, as you have stated already in this delightful conversation, I’m a bitch. Why stay married to me?”

“I won’t sign.”

“Don’t be too hasty Stephen.”

“Fine. I’ll take you for all your worth.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, you have messed with the wrong person Miranda.”

“No Stephen, it is you who has messed with the wrong person. Now do cease petering me, I have work to do. That’s all!”

Miranda hung up and swiftly stood and moved from around her desk. Miranda felt her jaw tighten she watched as Emily raised her head and regarded her with a mix of awe and pure terror.

“Yes Miranda?”

“This.” Miranda slammed the phone down upon the redhead’s desk and watched as she flinched slightly before straightening her posture. “Get rid of it. Get me a new phone, now!”

“But Miranda...”

“Emily?”

“Yes Miranda?”

“Get me a new phone. Now!”

“Yes Miranda.”

“Emily.”

“Yes Miranda?”

“Make sure you put Andrea’s number in the new phone, I don’t appreciate having to talk to you every time I want to move.”

Emily’s eyes widened.

“Yes Miranda!”

Miranda watched as Emily jumped up from around her desk and scampered off in search of a new cell phone

Miranda turned and fixed her gaze upon the blonde who was typing away at her desk. She was desperately trying to look busy and failing. “Emily?”

“Yes Miranda?” The blonde looked up and Miranda watched as Tiffany’s blue eyes flinched slightly at the ferocity that was surly showing on her face.

“A locksmith!” with Tiffany nodding but looking puzzled, Miranda strode back into her office.

****

The car smoothly glided along the asphalt and the occupants of the gleaming grey vehicle sat in silence while the busy world moved around them.

The car turned perfectly and then straightened as it glided once more down a new street. Large ostentatious houses lined the road, trees where spotted at regular interval. The car continued on for several minutes before it slowed and pulled to the left. 

Several minutes passed before the driver exited the front of the vehicle and with a smile opened the back door. Andy held out her hand and it was quickly grasped by another. A strong head of sliver was the second thing to emerge before it was quickly followed by a slim body clad in black.

Miranda Priestly squeezed the hand that aided her exit once and gave the beautiful woman in front of her a smile. Night had quickly drawn in and Miranda strainged her eyes but saw a quick blush spread over the cheeks of the brunette who held her hand tightly.

“Thank you Andrea.”

“It's my pleasure Miranda.”

“Well, well, if it isn’t the queen and one of her minions.”

Miranda felt her own body stiffen as she turned her head she saw Stephen sitting upon the steps of the town house. How she had missed his dishevelled form she did not know. He looked an absolute mess.

His shirt was open at the top and his tie was askew, his jacket looked as if something had been spilt upon the front of it. One shoulder was removed and as he staggered to his feet Miranda felt sick. He was obviously drunk. She didn’t even want to think of how long he had sat there, drunk and furious.

His speech was slurred, and his face looked ruddy in the dim light. Miranda felt a migraine coming. Her fit of petulance this morning was coming back to bite her in the behind. She had been furious after Stephen phone call. She had demanded that Tiffany get her a locksmith, telephone her security company and for the girl to go and have the keys to the townhouse changed. The blonde had done as she had asked and at 1 the girl had returned with her steak mineral water a new security code and a new set of keys.

Miranda despite herself had been quite impressed. The blonde had potential is she managed to keep it up and not to disappoint her.

It appeared that Stephen had returned home drunk and ready to argue to find the locks changed and Cara refusing to allow him access. She could only imagine the abuse he had hurled at the twins nanny. She could only imagine the scene he had caused, as he stood unsteadily and shouted a torrent of abuse.

Miranda continued to watch as Stephen stumbled down one step and then another. He staged left and right. He shrugged his shoulder twice before his jacket managed to be flicked back into place. He shoes usually shiny and black were dull and scuffed, his shirt was un-tucked. He looked like a vagrant, a well dressed vagrant, but he also wouldn’t look out of place laying in a gutter with a bottle covered by a brown paper bag.

“Stephen.”

“You had the locks changed,” his voice slumped and slurred Miranda closed her eyes and fought to keep her own voice level.

“Stephen, call a cab and go to a hotel.”

“That’s my house.”

“No. That’s my house. Did you forget that fact? You live with me.”

Miranda let the full degree of her disgust show on her face. Stephen stepped closer and Miranda stepped from around the car door. From the corner of her eye she watched Andrea close the door. The soft thud filled the air as Stephen raised his arm and waved a rolled up paper in her direction. She could tell what it was.

“Stephen leave.”

“I live here.”

“Not anymore.”

“You can’t just throw me out.”

“I can, and I have. I have had more than enough of you Stephen, now leave.”

“No.”

Miranda watched as a heavy drape moved and the shape shifted. They were being observed. Miranda was mortified, she watched as Stephen gazed over his shoulder and the returned his gaze to her own. A huge smile had bloomed on his face.

He would take every opportunity to humiliate her, typical Stephen, she had beaten him to the punch in asking for a divorce and she had outsmarted him by having the locks changed; now his pride was hurt and he would take every opportunity to try and drag her down.

“Fine.”

“You bitch Miranda, you Goddamn bitch; you can’t just leave me with nothing on the fucking doorstep.”

“I'll have Cara bring you a suit.”

“I don’t want the fucking Nanny to bring me a suit out; I want to get my own stuff!”

Miranda winced at Stephen's profanity. He always was quite crude when he was drunk and beaten.

“Take it or leave it.”

“You bitch!”

Miranda took a step forward. She would not be intimidated by a drunk. She certainly wouldn’t be intimidated by Stephen.

Stephen followed her movement and so did the girl beside her. Miranda’s thoughts turned to Andrea. She glanced at her driver and saw that her face was tense. She didn’t need to be involved in this. Miranda herself didn’t want to be involved in this.

“Did she say something?” He threw his hand out the divorce papers wobbled and settled upon Andrea's wincing form. Miranda found a frown creasing her brow. What was Stephen talking about?

Miranda stopped and turned towards her soon to be ex-husband, his body was level with her own. She glanced as Andrea and saw the girls eyes narrow and she gave Stephen a look of disgust. Just what had Andrea observed her soon to be ex-husband doing?

“Just what would she say?”

Miranda had had enough of this little charade. She turned back and she felt Andrea’s body follow her own. Stephen stepped closer and Andrea moved to shield her. Miranda frowned and she watched as Stephen raised his hand. Andrea shrank back suddenly, her body automatically folded in upon its self.

Stephen stopped his movement and looked at Andrea hunched form in puzzlement. Then his face morphed and a deep resounding laugh filled the air. “She thought I was going to hit you!”

His face dipped towards Andrea and Miranda narrowed her eyes. “I wasn’t going to hit you or her little slut, I have some common sense.”

Miranda stepped in-between Stephen and Andrea; she knew he wouldn’t have hit her, but Andrea didn’t know that.

“Stephen, leave. Or I will call the police.”

“Oh, think of the neighbours. Think of the press!”

Miranda glared, she knew that was what Stephen wanted. He wanted the police to turn up and he wanted the press to arrive, take pictures of her crumbling marriage. Miranda instinctively wanted to balk about such publicity, she had never quite liked the press; the majority of them were vultures. Paparazzi hounding people, desperate for any scrap of information they can get. She had no doubt the news of the marriage would be all over page 6 in the morning. If not she was sure Stephen would rectify that oversight.

She looked at him and felt nothing. She had expected to fell something for Stephen, she had once loved him after all, but now, now she felt nothing. The man before he was nothing but a stranger. A pathetic man whom found solace in the bottom and a bottle and with the bimbos he picked up.

“I have thought of the press Stephen. After your little display, I would take pleasure in seeing you hauled downtown.”

Stephen's face fell a little as her realised she truly didn’t care.

“This isn’t the end of this Miranda.”

“No Stephen, it isn’t, but come Monday it will be.”

Miranda touched Andrea's arm and nodded her head indicating that the woman should follow her.

 


Chapter 25