Medical leave (a Mirandy fanfic)

Chapter 14: the longest week II

Monday morning boded war. It was barely five in the morning when Miranda begrudgingly disentagled herself from the brunette in her bed and kissed her tenderly on the forehead. Andrea mumbled some incoherencies in her sleep but didn't wake up. 

The editor opened the closet and pulled out her battle clothing. The word "power suit" had never applied better to a garment, a pitch black Armani tailleur and a pair six-inched black patent-leather Prada pumps. The sharp edges of the blazer constrated menacingly with the perfect fitting of the knee-lenght skirt, and the final touch was the wrap around blouse. A blood red wrap around blouse. Miranda clasped a slightly manly Montblanc on her right wrist as she perused herself in the mirror. Perfect, imposing and implacable.

The editor arrived at Elias-Clarke building at seven in the morning. She ascended the fourteen floors up to her office and the Runway employees scurried and scampered out of her way, capables of hurling themselves out of the nearest window not to cross paths with the editor in full dragon-mode. 

 Just an hour and a half later, Miranda's tolerance had run thinner than ever before. Stupidity and panic being a dreadful combination for her migraine. Her phone pinged with a message from Andrea, asking her to call her, and the editor smiled. The prospect of hearing her sweet voice was conforting, and the call provided her with the strength she would need.

By ten in the morning everything was pretty much "solved", having discarded the most uninspired and abhorrid options she was presented with, the editor reclined in her chair and pinched her nose. So much to go yet.

 Right when she was going through her schedule for the day, Irv barged in her office like he owned it.

-"Miranda..." - Irv uttered and Miranda found it the most unpleasant sound she had heard- 

_"I'm sorry, Miranda" - Janette came rushing and panicking, for the third time this morning - "I told him you were busy but..."

-"That's all" - the editor dismissed her assistant without even looking at neither of the people there- "Why is it, Irv... " - she spat his name like she had just swallowed an insect - "that you always decide to show yourself in my office at the least suitable of times?"

-"Miranda, please tell me I heard wrong..."

-"I couldn't care less about your hearing health" - she cut him off - 

-"You're changing the entire issue!" - he prompted to finish - 

-"And the problem is that..." - she tilted her head and her closed fist went to hold her chin, as if daring him to question her -

-"This is already three hundread thousands above the budget settled for this month! Which by the way was larger than the average budget, as you asked" -  he adjusted his tie in a nervous motion-

-"Yes, I already know. I can do simple maths" - Miranda retorted noncomitally - 

-"Then what..." - he didn't get to the next word when the editor fixed him with a glare capable of bending steel. The temperature in the room suddenly dropped a few degrees, ok, maybe more than a few degrees. The whole floor adquired an Artic temperature and the air became so dense it was almost solid, one could cut through it with a blunt knife.

-"Do not play dumb with me, Ravitz" - again, she spat his name like she was compelled to get rid of filth that had pervaded her mouth. Out of the tail of her eye she could see people gathering in the assistants area but she couldn't bring herself to care- " You know exactly the reasons for which  I saw myself forced to change the entire issue" - she slowly, very slowly, rounded her desk, her hand caressing the smooth glass surface. The image was that of a prowling feline, ready to pounce on their ignorant prey - "And thanks to some stupidity that petty, devious and very useless mind of yours  came up with, you thought I wouldn't find out"