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accumulated in the past weeks—the gossip and the glamour—but she
didn’t really understand just how hard each day was。 She didn’t
understand that the reason I continued to show up； day after day；
was not for the free clothes； didn’t understand that all the free
clothes in the world wouldn’t make this job bearable。 It was time to
bring one of my best friends into my world； where； I was quite
certain； shewould understand。 She just needed to be told。 Yes！ It
was time to share with someone exactly what was going on。 I opened
my mouth to start； excited at the prospect of having an ally； but my
phone rang。
Dammit！ I wanted to throw it against the wall； tell whoever was on
the other end to go to hell。 But a small part of me hoped it was
Jonathan with some information。 Lily smiled and told me to take my
time。 I nodded sadly and answered。
“Is this Andrea？” asked a man’s voice。
“Yes； is this Jonathan？”
“It is indeed。 I just called Home and got your message。 I’m flying
back from Paris right now； somewhere over the Atlantic as we speak；
but you sounded so worried I wanted to call you back right away。”
“Thank you！ Thank you！ I really appreciate it。 Yes； I am a bit
worried； because I got a call from Miranda earlier today and it
seems strange that she hadn’t yet received the package。 You did give
it to the driver in Paris； right？”
“Sure did。 You know； miss； in my Business I don’t ask any questions。
Just fly where I’m told and when and try to get everyone there in
one piece。 But it’s sure not often I end up flying overseas with
nothing onboard but a package。 Must’ve been something real
important； I imagine； like an organ for a transplant or maybe some
classified documents。 So yes； I took real good care of that package
and I gave it to the driver； just like I was told。 Nice fella from
the Ritz。 No problems。”
I thanked him and hung up。 The concierge at the Ritz had arranged
for a driver to meet Mr。 Tomlinson’s private plane at de Gaulle and
transfer Harry back to the hotel。 If everything went as planned；
Miranda should’ve had those books by seven in the morning local
time； and considering it was already late afternoon there； I
couldn’t imagine what had gone wrong。 There was no choice： I had to
call the concierge； and since my cell wouldn’t dial internationally；
I had to find a phone that did。
I took the plate of now cold waffles back to the kitchen and dumped
them in the garbage。 Lily was lying on the couch again； half…asleep。
I hugged her good…bye and told her I’d call her later and headed out
to hail a cab back to the office。
“What about today？” she whined。 “I haveThe American President all
lined up and ready to go。 You can’t leave yet—our weekend’s not
over！”
“I know； I’m sorry； Lil。 I have to deal with this now。 There’s
nothing I’d rather do than stay here； but she’s got me on a pretty
short leash right now。 I’ll call you later？”
The office was； of course； deserted； as everyone was surely
brunching at Pastis with their investment banker boyfriends。 I sat
in my darkened area； took a deep breath； and dialed。 Blissfully；
Monsieur Renaud； my favorite of the Ritz concierges； was available。
“Andrea； dear； how are you？ We’re simply delighted to have Miranda
and the twins back with us again so soon；” he lied。 Emily told me
that Miranda stayed at the Ritz so frequently that the entire hotel
staff knew her and the girls by name。
“Yes； Monsieur Renaud； and I know she’s just thrilled to be there；”
I lied back。 No matter how acmodating the poor concierge was；
Miranda found fault with his every move。 To his credit； he never
stopped trying； and he never stopped lying about how much he loved
her； either。 “Listen； I’m wondering if that car you sent to meet
Miranda’s plane made it back to the hotel already？”
“Well of course； dear。 That was hours ago。 He must’ve returned here
before eight o’clock this morning。 I sent the best driver we have on
staff；” he said proudly。 If only he knew what his best driver had
been sent to shuttle around town。
“Well； that’s so strange； because I got a message from Miranda
saying that she never received the package； but I’ve checked with
the driver here who swears he dropped it at the airport； the pilot
who swears he flew it to Paris and gave it to your driver； and now
you who remember it arriving at the hotel。 How could she not have
received it？”
“It seems the only way to solve this is to ask the lady herself；” he
trilled in a fake…happy voice。 “Why don’t I connect you？”
I had hoped against all hope that it wouldn’t e to this； that I’d
be able to identify and fix the problem without having to speak to
her。 What would I tell her if she still insisted that she’d never
received the package？ Was I supposed to suggest that she look on the
table in her suite； where it was inevitably left hours earlier？ Or
was I supposed to go through the whole thing； private jet and all；
and get her two more copies by the end of the day？ Or perhaps I
should hire a secret service agent next time to acpany the books
on their journey overseas and ensure that nothing promises their
safe arrival？ Something to think about。
“Sure； Monsieur Renaud。 Thanks for your help。”
A few clicks and the phone was ringing。 I was sweating slightly from
the tension； so I wiped my palm on my sweatpants and tried not to
think what would happen if Miranda saw me wearing sweatpants in her
office。Be calm； be confident； I coached myself。She can’t disembowel
me over the phone 。
“Yes？” I heard from a faraway place； jolting myself out of my
self…help thoughts。 It was Caroline who； at a mere ten years； had
perfected her mother’s brusque phone manner perfectly。 Cassidy at
least had the courtesy to answer the phone with a “hello。”
“Hi； sweetie；” I crooned； hating myself for sucking up to a child。
“It’s Andrea； from the office。 Is your mom there？”
“You mean mymum ？” she corrected as she always did when I used the
American pronunciation。 “Sure； I’ll get her。”
A moment or two later； Miranda was on the line。
“Yes； Ahn…dre…ah？ This had better be important。 You know how I feel
about being interrupted when I’m spending time with the girls；” she
stated in her cold； clipped way。You know how I feel about being
interrupted when I’m spending time with the girls？ I wanted to
scream。Are you fucking kidding me； lady？ You think I’m calling for
my goddamn health？ Because I couldn’t bear to go a single weekend
without hearing your miserable voice？ And what about me spending
time with mygirls？ I thought I’d pass out from anger； but I took a
deep breath and dove right in。
“Miranda； I’m sorry if this is a bad time； but I’m calling to ensure
that you received the Harry Potter books。 I heard your message
saying that you hadn’t yet received them； but I’ve spoken to
everyone and—”
She interrupted me midsentence and spoke slowly and surely。
“Ahn…dre…ah。 You should really listen more closely。 I said no such
thing。 We received the package early this morning。 Incidentally； it
came so early that they woke us all up for the silly thing。”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing。 I didn’t dream that she’d
left the message； did I？ I was still too young even for early…onset
Alzheimer’s； right？
“What I said was that we didn’t receiveboth copies of the book； as I
had requested。 The package included only one； and I’m sure you can
imagine just how disappointed the girls are。 They were really
looking forward to each having theirown copy； as I had requested。 I
need you to explain why my orders weren’t followed。”
This wasn’t happening。 This couldn’t be happening。 I was definitely
dreaming now； living some sort of alternate…universe existence where
anything resembling rationality and logic were suspended
indefinitely。 I wouldn’t even let myself consider the absurdity of
what was unfolding。
“Miranda； I do recall that you requested two copies； and I ordered
two；” I stammered； hating myself yet again for pandering。 “I spoke
to the girl at Scholastic and am quite sure that she understood that
you needed two copies of the book； so I can’t imagine—”
“Ahn…dre…ah； you know how I feel about excuses。 I’m not particularly
interested in hearing yours now。 I expect something like this will
never happen again； correct？ That’s all。” She hung up。
I stood there for what must have been five full minutes； listening
to the squawking off…the…hook sound with the receiver pressed
against my ear。 My mind raced； full of questions。 Could I kill her？
I wondered； considering the probability of getting caught。 Would
they automatically assume it was me？ Of course not； I
concluded—everybody； at least atRunway； had a motive。 Do I really
have the emotional wherewithal to watch her die a long； slow；
agonizingly painful death？ Well； yes； that much was for sure—what
would be the most enjoyable way to snuff out her wretched existence？
I slowly replaced the receiver。 Could I really have misunderstood
her message when I listened to it earlier？ I grabbed my Cell Phone
and replayed the messages。“Ahn…dre…ah。 It’s Mir…ahnda。 It’s nine in
the morning on Sunday in Pah…ris and the girls have not yet received
their books。 Call me at the Ritz to assure me that they will arrive
shortly。 That’s all。” Nothing was really wrong。 She may have
received one copy instead of two； but she deliberately gave me the
impression that I’d made a tremendous； career…ending mistake。 She’d
called with no concern that her nineA 。M。 call would have reached me
at threeA 。M。； on my most perfect weekend in months。 She’d called to
drive me a little crazier； push me a little bit harder。 She’d called
to dare me to defy her。 She’d called to make me hate her that much
more。
7
Lily’s New Year’s party was good and low…key； just a lot of paper
cups of champagne at Lily’s place with a bunch of people from
college and some others they managed to drag along。 I was never a
big fan of the holiday。 I don’t remember who first called it
“Amateur Night” （I think it was Hugh Hefner）； saying that he went
out the other 364 days a year； but I tend to agree。 All that forced
drinking and merry…making did not a good time guarantee。 So Lily had
stepped up and thrown a little party to save us all the 150 tickets
to some club or； even worse； any sort of ridiculous thoughts of
actually freezing in Times Square。 We’d each brought a bottle of
something not too poisonous； and she had passed out noisemakers and
glittery tiaras； and we got quite drunk and happy and toasted in the
New Year on her rooftop overlooking Harlem。 Although we’d all had
way too much to drink； Lily was pretty much nonfunctional by the
time everyone else had left。 She had already thrown up twice； and I
was scared to leave her alone in the apartment； so Alex and I had
packed her a bag and dragged her in the cab with us。 We all stayed
at my place； Lily on the futon in the living room； and went out for
a big brunch the next day。
I was glad the whole holiday thing was over。 It was time to get on
with my life and get started—really started—on my new job。 Even
though it felt like I’d been working for a decade； I was technically
just beginning。 I had a lot of hope that things would improve once
Miranda and I started working together day to day。 Anyone could be a
cold…hearted monster over the phone； especially someone who was
unfortable with vacations and being so far away from work。 But I
was convinced that the misery of that first month would give way to
a whole new situation； and I was excited to see how it would all
unfold。
It was a little after ten on a cold and gray January 3； and I was
actually happy to be at work。 Happy！ Emily was gushing about some
guy she met at a New Year’s party in LA； some “superhot；
up…and…ing songwriter” who had promised to e visit her in New
York in the next couple weeks。 I was chatting with the associate
beauty editor who sat down the hall； a really sweet guy who’d
graduated from Vassar and whose parents didn’t yet know—even despite
the college choice and the fact that he was abeauty editor at
afashion magazine—that he did； in fact； sleep with guys。
“Oh； e with me； please？ It’ll be so fun； I promise。 I’