Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

It was a usual Friday in Andy Sachs’ life, almost 7PM.

'If I leave the office right now, I'll be able to meet Emily in the Madame George bar on time.' She'd hate to leave the British woman, who would always be as sharp as a clock, waiting.

Andy had just pressed the elevator button, when Nigel suddenly opened the office’s glass door, and called her.

“Hey, Six! Just so you know, all the invitations and itineraries have already been sent to all the guests. According to the RSVP, our attendance rate will be clearly high.”

He was referring to Runway’s 70th Anniversary Gala, which would be taking place in Mykonos, Greece, in less than one week. Nigel was the man in charge of the organization of basically everything, from the menu to the models’ garment. All the collaborators from Runway were invited, or at least the most relevant ones.

“That’s perfect, Nigel!” she blurted, raising both of her thumbs up and shaking them. “The speech is almost done, by the way! I’ll give it an extra look by tomorrow night.” 

Andy had been addressed to speak in the ceremony, due to her outstanding performance in taking care of the magazine’s reputation in the last months.

“And where are you heading to, all bustled?” Nigel asked, a smirk in the corner of his mouth.

“Oh, I’m… I’m on my way to meet Em at Madame George.” Andy answered, pouting slightly.

“Of course you’re meeting Miss Perfect, you’re peas in a pod.” he sneered. He obviously knew the answer to the question and just wanted to mess around with her.

The elevator arrived at the office’s floor, doors swung open.

“Bye Nigel, see you on Monday!” Andy tried to yell in time for him to listen, before the doors closed. Unfortunately, they'd shut before she could hear an answer.

Andy reached the ground floor of Elias-Clark building. Without a second-guess, she waved her hand to the cars passing by and entered the first cab that stopped. She wanted to arrive at the bar as soon as possible, and to look neat. Which meant no subway. Not to meet Emily Charlton.

Andy was entirely fond of Emily’s friendship. It’s been five months since Emily called her and invited her to lunch, in such a remarkable occasion that led them to officially call themselves friends. Or ‘pals’. Or whatever Emily would consider appropriate. Five months of going out for drinks on Friday nights, brunches on Sundays, movie nights on Saturdays (sometimes accompanied by Emily’s children, Bronwyn and Roark, when their mom had them for the weekend) and five months of very quick text replies. If Andy needed an opinion, she would ask Emily and the redhead would reply to her right away. If Andy heard a funny joke, she would immediately tell Emily about it, and her reaction would come firsthand (though she might be a little judgemental when it came to jokes).

In such a short amount of time, Emily got into Andy’s life and managed to become one of her best friends. And they would always burst out laughing together. At the silliest things. Despite their closeness, though, Andy would always put the woman on some kind of pedestal. She knew Emily was a refined person, and she felt the need to measure up to her. Which meant trying to arrive on time, trying to be the least sloppy possible in her presence, and also to look her best when she knew they would meet. The latter especially due to the fact that Emily was, by all means, a stunning woman. She always dressed her killer body to impress, and her face was designed by angels. Even back to their days as Miranda’s assistants at Runway, Andy would feel mesmerized if she spent much time staring at Emily. Back in that time, though, they were nothing but work colleagues. And Emily was definitely harsher on Andy than nowadays. But of course Emily would be harsh, she was Miranda's first assistant and her boss would go harder on her than on anyone else. Andy struggled to deliver what Emily expected back in that time. But at the end, all the struggle has paid off, since Andy learned a lot about corporate life, thanks to Emily and Miranda. 

Then, as tricky as life could be, Andrea’s former coworker from 20 years ago was right there, sitting at a table in a hip bar, dressed in a long pencil skirt with a slit, legs crossed, looking no less than splendid and waiting for her.

Andy tucked a strand of hair away from her face and placed it behind her ear, and then she used that same hand to wave timidly at Emily.

The redhead saw her and both greeted each other, hugging slightly and air kissing.

“Andrea, you’re late.” Emily said, alternating her gaze between the brunette and the menu.

“Em, I’m actually five minutes early!” Andy chuckled, while checking the watch on her left wrist that proved her earliness.

“You had me waiting, which makes you, indeed, late.” Emily pointed her index finger at Andy.

As soon as Andy was about to start apologizing, making her usual abandoned puppy eyes and pouting, Emily cut her. “But no worries. I’ve kept myself busy and ordered for us already.”

“And I trust your taste, entirely.” Andy gently stroked Emily’s hand, quickly. “Now, tell me about your day.”

They went on a long conversation about their week’s highlights. In no time, the waiter came with their drinks, two seasoned Negronis and a portion of truffled fries in a basket. Emily complained to Andy about her new assistant at Coach, who was, in her words, too much of a “gen z”.

“I cannot understand anything this girl says. Human resources must be facing a severe crisis.”

That last phrase spaced Andy's brain out of the conversation and took her back to a memory from twenty years ago. 

“You said something similar to me.” Andy held a laughter. “When I first got to Runway, remember?”

“I did?” Emily frowned, a bit caught by surprise.

“‘Human Resources certainly has an odd sense of humor’” Andy looked at Emily’s eyes, biting her bottom lip and trying very hard not to laugh. “Shortly before Miranda interviewed me.”

“Oh, Andy, that…” Emily remembered the scene and the exact words started playing in her head, as if it all had happened yesterday. “That was mean, I- “ Emily’s face started flushing in embarassment before she could do anything to help it.

“It’s okay, Em.” At this point, Andy couldn’t hold back her laughter anymore. “You were witty. At least, that’s how you’ve always sounded to me. And besides, I was completely clueless about fashion, wasn’t I?”

Andy had always possessed this wonderful virtue of making fun of herself and taking things easy. Emily admired that in her.

“Just for a few months... Then you had your… makeover.” Emily remembered the unforgettable scene of Andy entering the office all sparkly, tossing her shiny hair in slow-mo. She was unable to take her eyes off the sight. “And you’ve made it impossible for me to say a word about your looks ever since.” It was the first day Andy showed up all confident to the office. Glowing. Wearing those trendy Chanel boots. She was breathtaking. And she’s never ceased being so.

“Ok so next time we go out, I’m gonna show up in my cerulean sweater, do you remember it? Let’s see what you’ll say about it.” Of course Emily remembered. She remembered everything that had happened in that specific year. The year in which Andy worked at Runway with her. For months shorter than expected. And then the brunette left. She left abruptly, in the middle of that cursed Paris trip that caused their clash. She left Runway and left Emily with a void. A void that no Chanel clothes could ever be able to fill. 

“Ohhh, not that one sweater! That one Miranda gave you a huge lecture about???!” And Emily also remembered the lecture. Vividly. She was standing behind the door watching Andy get chastened by Miranda in one of Andy's first days at Runway. Emily wanted to feel amused by the scene, but she was simply unable to do so. She felt bad for Andy. And so she would help her. Anytime Andy needed her help with work, she'd be there. Later on, she would figure out why she felt the urge to help Andy so much. 

“Yup.” Andy emphasized the “P”, letting out a scoff, “that one."

“Let’s see if you would be brave enough to face my snarky self at your own risk…” Emily tried to sound threatening, but the picture that came up in her head, Andrea in that stupid and tacky sweater, was nothing but adorable.

“Then you must know I’ve turned that sweater into an actual vest. And I nailed it. The other day, I went to Runway on it and got praised by both Nigel and Amari.”

Emily was sure Andy had done a great job with the former sweater/now vest, and she was about to ask Andy for a picture of it, but then she got intrigued by the last name mentioned.

“Amari… who?” Emily frowned.

“Oh, she’s one of the Junior Executives now. She used to be Miranda’s first assistant as soon as I returned. The one with the shiny dark hair.”

“Oh, I remember her. From Milan. Nevermind.” Emily recovered her brain files on that slender beauty who would follow Miranda back and forth in Milan.

“Yeah, yeah, she was there. And you know what’s funny?” Andy sighed. “She reminds me of you. Like a lot. Same attitude. And she’s also very-… British!” 

“So you must like her a lot then, am I right?” Emily tried to joke about what Andy had just said. But deep down she felt a little… jealous? As if there was a new Emily, someone who got to see Andy every day, who had worked as Miranda's first assistant and who still got to be fancied by Andrea in her place.

“Yes, she’s great,” Andy chuckled. But she noticed a grimace on Emily’s face. Then she completed, “but of course nothing compares to having you there with me. Entering that building without seeing you there feels… awkward.” Andy’s doe eyes popped up while she spoke, which would always make Emily's heart flutter.

“You are so… so-… mild, Andrea…” Emily was at a loss of words. Reacting to Andy as she made those fluffy yet completely genuine comments always left her speechless. She almost forgot about her prior jealousy.

“I mean it, Em. Like, a couple days ago, me and the girls went to that new Thai restaurant on the 4th, for lunch, and I remembered you telling me about their opening. I missed you there with us.”

“I’ll deliberately skip the part of being outraged by you going out with your other friends to places I invite you to go with me and-”

Andy’s phone rang. She mimicked a “just a second” sign to Emily and picked up the call.

“Hi, Peter… I told you, I’m with Em at Madame George… No, you don’t have to wait for me. Yes, I know… I know for sure (...) Talk to you later. Love you. Bye.”

Emily was putting all her effort into the herculean task of not rolling her eyes at that conversation. That bloody boyfriend of Andrea was such a menace to her nerves.

“Sorry Em, it was Peter.”

“I heard it.” Emily said in a sharper tone than her usual.

“He was complaining about the late hours, saying that I gotta pack for the trip, and stuff.” Andy was gesturing her hands as she spoke and rolling her eyes.

“God, Andy… That man is clingy as goddamn fuck.” Emily ran her hand across her own forehead, in an attempt to ease her annoyance.

Emily had this tacit permission of Andy to speak ill of Peter. Of anyone, actually. Andy would always get her friend’s point of view. Moreover, the redhead’s sincerity was one of the traits Andy most admired in her.

“I know, Em… The thing is, I have no idea how to make him understand that this sometimes is… too much. He is too much. I can’t help but feel like an awful person for letting it out. An awful girlfriend. Like, feeling overwhelmed by his overattentiveness… is this even possible? Is it fair?”

Emily remained silent, because if she started speaking, she would let out the worst kind of slurs ever created by the English language. Andy kept venting.

“Like, him reminding me to pack my suitcase… It’s my trip… to my event… of my job… we aren’t even living together, imagine if we were…”

Emily resisted her pungent desire to tell Andy to dump the man’s ass.

“Andrea, you have enough pressure on your shoulders for now. As you’ve been saying, this trip is stressful on its own, and you do not need him making everything worse for you.”

“Yes… you know the entire company will be flying to Greece in just a few days… Besides, Runway trips tend to become great Shakespearean tragedies when I'm a part of them…”

Emily couldn’t hold her laughter at the memory. The Milan fiasco.

“At least this time there will be no me trying to acquire the company in an auction led by some psycho billionaire…Which means you’ll do great”

Andy bursted into laughter.

“Reminding me you won’t be there doesn’t really help, Em… it does quite the opposite, actually.” said Andy, in such a bubbly tone, eyes squinted probably as an alcohol effect.

Emily also couldn’t qualify as the most sober person in the room, and her uneven breathing would totally turn her in, as did her words, all giggly.

“So you’re telling me, Andrea Sachs…” she leaned her head across the table, until her mouth reached Andy’s left ear and whispered, in a much huskier tone than Andy expected “you’re telling me… that you want me to try to steal your company again?”

They’ve definitely overcome the phase of avoiding to bring up the Milan incident. Their level of trust and friendship had got to a point in which Emily would always find a way to take the piss out of the subject every time it was mentioned.

Andy definitely wasn’t expecting that. The joke, yes, but not the tone Emily used in her voice to make the joke. Let alone the chills Andy felt down her neck right after she heard the words. The alcohol was certainly taking her out of orbit. The alcohol, for sure.

“Yes!!! I do… I- I mean, you and I would totally find a way to make a blast out of it…” Andy took Emily’s hands in hers and smirked, “wouldn’t we?”

“By all means…” Emily turned her palms up, so that hers and Andy’s would be facing each other’s. Then Emily looked straight into Andy’s brown eyes. “Ok, now listen…”

Andy widened her eyes and entightened the grip on Emily’s hands, paying close attention to what the other woman was about to say to her.

“You’re gonna go on that trip, and you’re gonna revel in the experience. Regardless of boyfriends, duties, anything… You’ll be in Greece, for god’s sake. Rock it like the greek goddess we know you are.” Definitely, Emily Charlton got her body fully possessed by the spirit of alcohol. She wasn’t measuring her words, as she usually did.

Andrea, on the other hand, just stared at the other woman, spellbound by what she had just heard. She then tilted her head, in a sudden attempt to return to planet Earth. She decided not to tease Emily about her last words, because she knew her friend’s temper way too well, to know that there was a risk of Emily taking back those words. Then Andy just decided to play it cool, as she should.

“It’s funny hearing this from you…” Andy said, resting her chin on her hand and using her index finger to point to Emily, “you, the one true goddess being revered by all those young men around us for a good while…” Andy glanced in the direction of a group consisting of twenty-something executives sitting by the bar counter, and shrugged.

Emily flustered instantly after receiving that information. She brought her hands up to cover her face, as an instinctive act, rubbing her face while chuckling nervously.

“Andrea, you -”

Before Emily could finish her sentence, Andy leaned her body forward and brought her own hand to touch Emily’s face, brushing the corner of the redhead’s mouth with her finger. Emily got taken aback, she stood still, glancing at Andrea.

“Your lipstick…” Andy kept her brushing movement, slowly, “it’s smudged.” While fixing the barely noticeable flaw, Andy couldn’t help but glare closely at Emily’s face. 'She is really pretty, undoubtedly.'

“Fixed it...” Andy took her hand off Emily’s face. Then she leant back to her chair, licking and biting her lower lip. 

Emily traced the area in which Andy’s finger had just been, feeling somewhat embarrassed. Soon after, she managed to think about something else, for a change. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be able to function properly.

“Andrea, have you figured…” Emily looked around them, then turned her gaze back to Andy, “that this bar is a haven of noisy youngsters, and at this very moment, we happen to be the only middle-aged women existing in this place?” she giggled softly, amused by her own insight.

Andy leaned closer to Emily. “Shame on us, Em… getting wasted on a… Friday night… with a bunch of freshmen… shame on us.” Andy was writhing so hard to reach Emily that her body was a few inches from leaning against the table. Emily got worried the brunette would fall and walked around the table, so she could sit by the other woman’s side. Then she brought the brunette back to the chair, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her along to the seat.

Both were facing each other, standing side by side on the seat. Emily felt the sudden need to touch Andrea. After what Andrea did on her lips. Or because they were standing too close and the brunette was so lovable. Those silly doe eyes, shimmering with the bar’s dim light, weren’t helping it.

“I believe we should behave like freshmen do, you know? We shall go down their level...” Emily brushed her finger on the left corner of Andy’s mouth, in an attempt to smudge the brunette lipstick, on purpose. Her finger lingered there for about five seconds, enough to send goosebumps through Emily’s spine. She wanted to stare at her finger’s direction, but she knew she shouldn’t do it. Too risky.

It took a while for Andy to understand what just happened. And when she did, she did nothing but laugh frantically, covering up her mouth. Emily laughed back at the sight. That little prank of Emily got Andy wistful, feeling a wave of joy she couldn’t decode at the moment.

“Come on, let me fix it” Emily tried to reach the same spot she was previously touching, but Andy’s wild laughter was making it impossible for Emily to accomplish her trying. Andy could do nothing but burst out in laughs. She felt beyond thrilled. So they stood there for a few minutes, glancing at each other. Grinning. Andy's lipstick smudged on the left corner of her lip. Emily feeling the need of fixing her mess but unable to do so. She could spend a good deal of time staring at those big brown eyes. And smudging lipstick off those soft plump lips...

“Em, let’s go travel together, you and me?” Andy blurted, flashing her huge doe eyes at the redhead.

Emily got uneasy, wondering to herself why the sudden question.

“There you go, making that face… and… being all goofy…” It was quite hard for Emily to fight Andrea’s sugary self on the regular. Under the influence, it was impossible.

“Come on, Em… imagine you and me… in the Mediterranean, or in French Polynesia, by the Caribbean Sea…”

Emily could easily picture all of it in her mind. With or without alcohol. Both of them having the time of their lives, all over the world… Together.

“You’re far too old to give into imagination like this, Andrea.” Emily sighed.

"So you’re refusing my invitation?” Andy was pretending to be shocked, but deep down she was amusing herself while watching Emily throw her all grown up façade.

“I would never refuse your…-” Emily answered, but got cut off by Andy abruptly.

"So is that a yes? Will you travel the world with me???” Andy was far too excited about this. And Emily was taking her own joy by watching Andy's joy.

“The world is too big. But we can certainly start somewhere. We shall arrange that someday.” Emily replied, soft yet composed.

Without hesitation, Andy pulled Emily up into a hug, to which the redhead reciprocated, hiding her amusement a little too well.

“I don’t know what sin it is that I’m paying for,” Emily said while scenting Andrea’s floral perfume, for they were standing too close. She inhaled deeply. “to deserve such a human golden retriever like you in my life”. 

Andy bursted out a huge laughter. She was so predictable. 

Despite the amusement, Emily started sensing somewhat danger in the air. They were standing too close. And Andy’s perfume was too heady. And Emily was too inebriated. Definitely by the alcohol.

“We better get going, Andrea. It’s almost two in the morning.”

In spite of Andy protesting against leaving “so soon”, Emily pulled her wallet out of her Birkin, took a hundred dollar bill and handed it to the waiter. Then, both women left the bar and Emily hailed a cab for them. The vehicle stopped by Andy’s building first and they said their goodbyes. Emily was unconsciously staring at Andy’s mouth, noticing that the smudge for which she was responsible, was still there. She refrained from fixing it. So the brunette opened the cab’s door and exited the vehicle.

In the car, Emily’s brain started recalling the night. Recalling Andrea. There was a specific dilemma dwelling in her head ever since Andrea came up with that one topic. Actually, for two weeks now, she had been torturing herself with that matter. Still, not once was she able to bring it up to Andy.

She took her phone from the Birkin and opened her mailbox. After sliding a few mails, she clicked on it. On that one e-mail.

From: Nigel Kipling <[email protected]>

To: Emily Charlton <[email protected]>

Subject: RSVP - Runway’s 70th Anniversary

 

Dear Ms. Charlton,

 

It is with great pleasure that we invite you to participate in the grand celebration of the 70th anniversary of our honored Runway Magazine.

You are a very significant part of the company's history, and your presence at this event is more than requested.

The celebration will take place in Mykonos, Greece, on July 5th.

More information about the itinerary can be found in the attachment, as well as the airline tickets and hotel reservation, already carefully made in your name.

It is essential, nonetheless, that you confirm your attendance by June 30th (Monday), by clicking the following link:

 

We look forward to seeing you.

 

Best regards,

Nigel Kipling

Creative Director of Runway M.

 

This one mail was living in Emily’s head rent-free for the last two weeks.

She thought, as soon as she received it, that she could simply ignore it. But she couldn’t. Not when it regarded a trip which involved Runway and Andrea. Not when Andrea was looking forward to it. Especially not now when Andrea mentioned how much she wanted to travel with Emily.

And there it was, an opportunity to do so. An odd, utterly unexpected opportunity. And yet, an opportunity.

Emily had a glimpse of clicking on that bloody link and confirming her presence.

But her fingers froze. She couldn't just confirm her presence at such an event. 

Her leaving the company was still a sensitive topic. She never wanted to leave. Miranda led her to it. Her relationship with her former boss has never been worse, especially after the last turnarounds in Italy, a few months ago.

Nigel might've sent this email to the wrong person. Or it might be a scam...

And Andrea, she'd never mentioned this invitation. She would know about it. Wouldn't she? Nigel would definitely mind telling Andrea that he had plans to invite Emily.

Even if the invitation was legitimate, Emily was a mother of two kids. She couldn't just leave them alone for six days, practically a week. Not when the kids’ father was a self-absorbed scoundrel.

This trip with Andrea to the Mediterranean could wait. They'd go just the two of them, when the time came. No work colleagues. No Miranda Priestly. No Australian boyfriends in desperate need of attention and who would behave like a hayseed, for goodness' sake.

The cab arrived at Emily's home. 

-.-.-.-.-.-

On Monday, 11AM, Emily was sitting at a round table, in the middle of a seniors meeting held by Coach’s CEO.

“I believe you all had the chance to hear Sasha Barnes’ outstanding speech on Female Entrepreneurship, in the last edition of Gordon Parks… It went viral. Positively viral. And, it has everything to do with our new collection.” the CEO spoke.

The slight mention of Sasha’s name was enough to give Emily a flip on the stomach. Not for the woman herself, but for reminding her of Benji Barnes (Sasha’s ex-husband), the infamous donkey Emily once dated when her resentment towards Runway reached the limits to her sanity, and she was on the edge of a mental breakdown.

"Whoever gets Sasha to be the spokesmodel of our new collection’s campaign, earns this huge promotion" the CEO continued.

Sasha Barnes was the current owner of Elias-Clark, which meant that Andrea, as a Senior Editor at Runway, might as well get Emily in touch with the woman, if Emily asked her to. However, the entire Runway staff would be on their way to Mykonos in less than… two days. There wouldn’t be a timely manner to handle this meeting before Sasha would get on a plane. And Emily, as keen as she was, knew that her boss expected her to deliver no less than a prompt workaround.

Then, a memory popped up on Emily’s head. The whiny pig Benji Barnes constantly complaining about Sasha having little to no available time in her schedule back when they were married. At least a piece of useful information could be reaped out of that horrendous relationship she’d dared to put herself into.

Sasha would certainly be hard to reach. Which would require Emily a little leap of faith. And a boldness pinch.

"If I get to her in one week, will you back me up?" Emily blurted, surprising herself before anyone else in the room.

She did not just say that… no... or yes… yes, she did.

And, to add yet another surprise to the collection, she got a positive response from the leadership.

"Just do whatever it takes to reach her.”

And Emily knew exactly what to do.

‘It. is. for. work. purpose.’ Her brain kept telling her, like a broken record player in the middle of a cave making a deafening echo.

And, just like that, Emily Charlton opened that one e-mail she had last opened while in a cab on Friday, and clicked on that bloody link within it.

‘Thank you for confirming your presence at Runway’s 70th Anniversary.

See you in Mykonos!'

 

Runway Magazine

'What’s done is done.'

As if by magic. There was no going back.

Now Emily just had a whole packing for Mykonos to be done. In one day. Or in a few hours, if working time didn’t count.