To say that Miranda Priestly was furious was an understatement. She was beyond red alert and the veins popping off her forehead means someone will be held responsible for it. A preposterous insight, really. Victoria Secret Fashion Week! Talk about a joke. Her, Miranda Priestly, will attend an overrated Fashion Week? Let alone do an interview with an up and coming model whose name barely known to Miranda. The idea of her, Miranda Priestly, conducting an interview with a nameless model irks her veins. Utterly ridiculous! Isn’t the reason why she’s wasting money on employees was for them to do the mundane task?
Truly someone will pay for this. Someone will be at the receiving end of her wrath. Maybe she’ll fire the entire art department for their incompetence with Nigel being the exemption of course. Or maybe she’ll fire her very unreliable second assistant who can’t even get her coffee right. Honestly?
“RSVP to the Victoria Secret Fashion Show and get me Nigel.” She said through gritted teeth to the red-headed first assistant. Without even a glance to her second assistant, she ordered “Get me my Starbucks.” Before she completely entered her office she glanced at her second assistant and uttered in a barely audible voice “and if you don’t get it in five minutes, don’t bother comng back. That’s all.”
The fear and shock on her second assistant’s face was evident “You have” flipping her wrist elegantly “4 minutes. Tic tac” And with panic rising on her second assistant’s system, the poor blonde girl, Anneliese went scurrying, her feet barely touching the ground.
Miranda smiled. Oh, the satisfaction she feels whenever she sends her minion on the path of fear.
As she strode gracefully to her couch, Nigel entered her office and inquired “You asked for me.” It wasn’t a question.
“Close the door.” Miranda said as she sat on her plush and motion for Nigel to do the same.
“Is everything okay?” Nigel asked upon sitting.
“No.” she answered abruptly.
“Dare I ask why?” Nigel asked. Concern was evident from his voice “Are the girls alright?” That is the only reason he could think of that could make Miranda this agitated.
“No, they are both alright.” Miranda let out a deep sigh. Fumbling her necklace, she quipped “Irv wants me to attend the Victoria Secret Fashion week.”
With Nigel’s curious look she supplied, “He wants me to do a personal interview with a certain model.”
“What is the name of this model?” He asked.
“Andrea Sachs.” He repeated.
“Oh!” Miranda exclaimed exasperatedly “Do keep up Ni—“ she wasn’t able to finish her sentence when she saw Nigel thinking, as if trying to remember something buried deep down in his memory.
Then it happened Nigel’s brows shot upwards and he nodded.
“She did a photoshoot with us. Back in 2002 with de la Renta.” He informed.
She doesn’t have to think about that year. It was the same year Oscar released a line of cerulean blue gowns, on which of course, graced Runway.
“The quiet one.” She implied.
“Hmmm” Nigel hummed in agreement. “But she is nice. Quite quirky and really charming. Amber colored eyes. A brunette.” Nigel suddenly chuckled. “She was a size six back then. That’s why I called her Six.”
Miranda feigned interest.
“From a size six to becoming a well-known model.” she paused before adding a sarcastic “Wonderful”
Before Nigel could ask anything, a knock on her door was heard. She rolled her eyes. It was probably her second assistant. She stood and stalked towards her door. Behind it, she met with a breathless second assistant. The corner of her red-tainted lips arched in a sly smirk. Her eyes fleet down to her watch then back to her assistant.
“I don’t want that.” Miranda uttered and shut the door.
Nigel smiled as he watched Miranda positioned herself elegantly on the couch, then he said fondly “You will like her company, Miranda. Trust me. She’s different from all the models I’ve worked with.” He smiled. Not waiting for a reply, he stood and fixed his collar then he queried playfully. “Is that all?”
With a stone cold face and uninterested voice, Miranda uttered “That’s all.”
Nigel laughed and showed his self out.