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able to just tell that person to put in an order for Miranda’s
usual； but since this one was too dumb to be trusted； I had learned
to ask for the manager himself。
“Um； OK； let me check and see if he’s available。”Trust me； Kim； he’s
available。 Miranda Priestly is his life。
“Andy； dear； how are you？” Sebastian breathed into the phone。 “I
hope you’re calling because our favorite fashion editor would like
some lunch today； yes？”
I wondered what he’d say if I told him； just once； that it wasn’t
Miranda who was looking for lunch； but me。 After all； this wasn’t
exactly a takeout joint； but they made a special exception for the
queen herself。
“Oh； yes； indeed。 She was just saying how much she was in the mood
for something delicious from your restaurant； and she also said to
send her love。” If under threat of death or dismemberment Miranda
wouldn’t have been able to identify the name of the place that made
her lunch each day； never even mind the name of its daytime manager；
but he always seemed so happy when I said something like this。 Today
he was so excited he giggled。
“Fab！ That’s just fabulous！ We’ll have it ready for you as soon as
you get here；” he called with fresh excitement in his voice。 “Can’t
wait！ And give her my love； too； of course！”
“Of course I will。 See you soon。” It was exhausting to stroke his
ego so enthusiastically； but he made my job so much easier it was
well worth it。 Every day that Miranda didn’t have lunch out； I
served her the same meal at her desk； and she leisurely ate it
behind closed doors。 I kept a supply of china plates in the bins
above my desk for this purpose。 Most were samples sent by designers
whose new “Home” lines had just e out； although some I just took
directly from the dining room。 It would have been too annoying to
have to keep stock of things like gravy trays and steak knives and
linen napkins； though； so Sebastian was always sure to provide those
with the meal。
And once again I shrugged on my black wool coat and jammed my
cigarettes and phone in the pocket and headed outside； into a late
February day that seemed to get only grayer as it progressed。
Although it was just a fifteen…minute walk to the restaurant on 49th
and Third； I considered calling for a car but thought better of it
when I felt the clean air in my lungs。 I lit a cigarette and drew
the smoke in； when I exhaled； I wasn’t sure if it was smoke or cold
air or irritation； but it felt damn good。
Dodging the aimlessly meandering tourists had bee easier。 I used
to stare in disgust at pedestrians on Cell Phones； but given my
hectic days； I’d bee a walking talker。 I pulled my cell out and
called Alex’s school where； according to my fuzzy recollection； he
could possibly be eating his lunch in the faculty lounge at that
moment。
It rang twice before I heard a high…pitched； pinched woman’s voice
answer。
“Hello。 You’ve reached PS 277 and this is Mrs。 Whitmore speaking。
How may I help you？”
“Is Alex Fineman there？”
“And who may I ask is calling？”
“This is Andrea Sachs； Alex’s girlfriend。”
“Ah； yes； Andrea！ We’ve all heard so much about you。” Her words were
so clipped she sounded as though she might choke any moment。
“Oh； really？ That’s 。 。 。 uh； that’s good。 I’ve heard a lot about
you too； of course。 Alex says wonderful things about everyone at
school。”
“Well； isn’t that nice。 But seriously； Andrea； it sounds like you
have quite some job there！ How interesting it must be； working for
such a talented woman。 You’re a lucky girl； indeed。”
Ah； yes。 Mrs。 Whitmore。 I am a lucky girlindeed。I’m so lucky； you
have no idea。 I can’t tell you how lucky I felt when I was sent out
just yesterday afternoon to purchase tampons for my boss； only to be
told that I’d bought the wrong ones and asked why I do nothing
right。 And luck is probably the only way to explain why I get to
sort another person’s sweat… and food…stained clothing each morning
before eight and arrange to have it cleaned。 Oh； wait！ I think what
actually makes me luckiest of all is getting to talk to breeders all
over the tristate area for three straight weeks in search of the
perfect French bulldog puppy so two incredibly spoiled and
unfriendly little girls can each have their own pet。 Yes； that’s it！
“Oh； yes； well； it is a fantastic opportunity；” I said by rote。 “A
job a million girls would die for。”
“You can say that again； dear！ And guess what？ Alex just walked in。
I’ll put him on。”
“Hey； Andy； what’s going on？ How’s your day going？”
“Don’t ask。 I’m on my way to pick up Her lunch right now。 How’s your
day？”
“Good； so far。 My class has music today right after lunch； so I
actually have an hour and a half free； which is nice。 And then we
get to cover more phonics exercises！” he said； sounding just a
little defeated。 “Even though it seems like they’re never going to
learn how to actually read something。”
“Well； have there been any slashings today？”
“No。”
“So； how much can you ask for？ You’ve had a relatively pain…free；
bloodless day。 Enjoy it。 Save the whole reading concept for
tomorrow。 So； guess what？ Lily called this morning。 She finally got
evicted from her place in Harlem； so we’re going to move in
together。 Fun； right？”
“Hey； congratulations！ Couldn’t have been better timing for you。 You
guys will have a great time together。 e to think of it； it’s a
little scary。 Dealing with Lily full…time 。 。 。 and Lily’s guys 。 。
。 Promise we can stay at my place a lot？”
“Of course。 But you’ll feel right at Home—it’ll be just like senior
year all over again。”
“Too bad she’s losing that cheap apartment。 Other than that； it’s
great news。”
“Yeah； I’m psyched。 Shanti and Kendra are fine； but I’m kind of done
with the whole living…with…strangers thing。” I loved Indian food；
but I did not love how the curry smell had seeped into everything I
owned。 “I’m going to see if Lil wants to meet for a drink tonight to
celebrate。 You up for it？ We’ll meet somewhere in the East Village
so it’s not too far for you。”
“Yeah； sure； sounds great。 I’m running to Larchmont to watch Joey
tonight； but I’ll be back in the city by eight。 You won’t even be
out of work by then； so I’ll meet Max and we can all meet up
afterward。 Hey； is Lily seeing anyone？ Max could use a； well 。 。 。”
“A what？” I laughed。 “Go on； say it。 Do you think my friend is a
whore？ She’s just free…spirited； is all。 And is she seeing someone？
What kind of question is that？ Someone named Pink…Shirt Boy stayed
over there last night。 I don’t think I know his real name。”
“Whatever。 Anyway； the bell just rang。 Call me when you’re done
dropping off the Book。”
“Will do。 ’Bye。”
I was about to stash the phone when it rang again。 The number wasn’t
familiar； though； and I answered it out of sheer relief that it
wasn’t Miranda or Emily。
“Mir—er； hello？” I’d taken to automatically answering my cell and
Home phone “Miranda Priestly’s office；” which was supremely
embarrassing when it was anyone except my parents or Lily。 Had to
work on that。
“Is this the lovely Andrea Sachs whom I inadvertently terrified at
Marshall’s party？” asked a somewhat hoarse and very sexy voice on
the other end。 Christian！ I’d been almost relieved when he hadn’t
resurfaced anywhere after massaging my hand with his lips。 But all
the feelings of wanting to impress him with my wit and charm that
first night came rushing back； and I quickly vowed to play it cool。
“It is。 And who may I ask is this？ There were a number of men who
terrified me that night for dozens of different and varied
reasons。”OK； so far； so good。 Deep breath； be cool。
“I didn’t realize I had so much petition；” he said smoothly。 “But
I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised。 How have you been； Andrea？”
“Fine。 Great； actually；” I lied quickly； remembering aCosmo article
I’d read that had exhorted me to “keep it light and airy and happy”
when talking to a new guy because most “normal” guys didn’t respond
so well to hard…bitten cynicism。 “Work is going really well。 I’m
loving my job； actually！ It’s been really interesting lately—a lot
to learn； tons of stuff going on。 Yeah； it’s great。 What about
you？”Don’t talk about yourself too much； don’t dominate the
conversation； get him fortable enough to chat about his favorite
and most familiar topic： him 。
“You’re a rather deft liar； Andrea。 To an untrain