Lauren Weisberger 5-Book Collection: The Devil Wears Prada, Revenge Wears Prada, Everyone Worth Know (225 page)

Emily's large eyes widened even more. ‘Considering it? Hell yes, I'm
considering
it. I'm in! And if you had even a shred of business sense about you, you would be, too.'

‘And if you had a shred of self-preservation, you'd be just where I am: running for the hills.'

‘You're so dramatic!' Emily sighed dramatically.

‘You call ten years of therapy and nightmares and flashbacks dramatic? If you and she want to cover the cost of my shrink and throw in an unlimited supply of sleeping pills and biweekly massages, I'll consider it. Anything short of that, and I wouldn't
survive
.'

The guys materialized before them. ‘You won't believe who we just saw,' Max said with more excitement than would be possible for him if he'd seen Miranda Priestly.

‘A certain famous fashion editor?' Emily asked seriously.

Max frowned. ‘No. Megan Fox and her husband, the one from
90210
? They're sitting right next to us.'

‘And she's even hotter in real life,' Miles added helpfully.

When neither girl responded, the guys exchanged a look. ‘What's going on here?' Miles asked.

‘We just had a Priestly run-in,' Andy said, looking to Max for sympathy. She was surprised to see how animated he became.

‘Priestly as in Miranda? Really? Did she mention the buyout? Is she upset that so much time has passed since the initial offer?'

Andy glared at him. ‘It's hardly been ”so much time.” The first call came after our wedding, and they wanted to see our numbers for the final quarter. Miranda's the one who all but takes off from Thanksgiving to New Year's. And here we are, a week into the new year. We're hardly procrastinating.' Andy knew she sounded defensive, but she couldn't help herself.

Miles thumped Max on the back. ‘Let's go get a drink. Things sound stressful here.'

Max nodded. ‘I just think if you're going to do it, you should really make a move on it sooner than later so she doesn't think'

‘We've got it covered,' Andy said with more irritation than she'd intended.

Max raised his hand in surrender. ‘Just offering an opinion.'

Every time they discussed it, Max went on and on about the prestige of being acquired by Elias-Clark, the honor of receiving such an impressive offer after so little time in business, and how it would free Andy up to try something else she really loved – after a year of hell, of course. Andy couldn't help but suspect he was thinking with his wallet, thinking of boasting about his smart investment and his smart wife, both. She knew Harrison Media Holdings was floundering even more this year than last, and Andy's income was Max's and vice versa: he'd insisted they both enter the marriage without a prenup, on equal terms – an arrangement that far favored Andy, and enraged Mrs Harrison – so Andy was happy that both she and Max would benefit financially from a sale. What she wasn't delighted about was the constant low-grade pressure Max subtly but continually put on her. She didn't presume to weigh in on his business decisions.

‘We'll be at the bar when you girls are done. No cat fights, okay? The game's starting any minute,' Miles said.

Emily turned to her, but Andy couldn't bring herself to meet Emily's eyes.

Finally she looked up. ‘What?'

‘You really aren't going to agree to this, are you? Not now, and not ever.' Emily intertwined her fingers and appeared to be exerting intense effort to keep her hands in her lap. She had the wiry anticipation of a tiger about to spring.

Andy opened her mouth to try to explain herself once again, but she shut it before she said a single word. ‘It's just more than I can handle right now, Em. I know you can understand that. I'm trying to stay on top of everything at work, I lost weeks and weeks to puking and exhaustion, and this baby is coming like a freight train in just a few more months. I have so much to do to get ready. It would be a lousy time to sell to anyone, much less to
her
…'

‘So, no. You're saying no, right?' Emily's devastation was palpable.

Of course Andy was saying no, and if she had the nerve she would say what she really meant, which was:
I'd sooner die or go broke or not work anywhere than spend so much as a single additional day working for that woman.
But because she was Andy and she hated conflict, despised disappointing people, she said, ‘I'm not saying no forever, just no for right now.'

A glimmer of hope flashed across Emily's face. ‘Okay. I can understand that. It's just a little too much now. We'll obviously have an amazing spring season of weddings. Stanley mentioned even doing a brainstorming session to see how we'd work conceptually with Elias-Clark …'

‘Yeah, let's revisit it after I've had the baby.' Andy felt guilty for misleading her friend, and she couldn't help but wonder when Emily had spoken to Stanley without her.

‘So long as they're still interested,' Emily said poutily.

‘I'm sure they'll still be interested. We'll have even more issues by then, more subscribers, and because you do your job so well, even more advertisers. We've grown every quarter since inception, and there's no reason to expect this will be any different. Plus, who knows better than you that playing hard to get just makes them want you more, right?'

‘I'm not sure it works that way with Miranda Priestly. She's not really the playing-hard-to-get type. But if it's this or nothing, I guess I don't have a choice,' Emily said with uncharacteristic resignation.

‘That's the spirit!' Andy said, trying to make her friend laugh.

Emily's look of defeat only lasted a moment before she said, ‘I'm hoping the baby softens you. Or you get so fat I can just roll you over. I'll call Stanley this week and tell them we're taking a brief hiatus from negotiations. Just until you've had the baby.'

Andy nodded.

‘Come on, let's get a drink and toast ourselves.'

Emily helped pull Andy out of the seat and they both winced in discomfort.

‘What exactly are we toasting?' Andy asked.

‘I survived a backwater island clinic. Miranda Priestly all but called you gorgeous. And we're probably going to sell our little magazine that could to the world's preeminent publisher. If that doesn't deserve a virgin mojito, nothing does.'

Andy watched as Emily made her way toward the guys, looking pleased and fabulously stylish once again. She knew she'd just made a huge mistake – she'd only pushed off the inevitable – but she vowed to put it out of her mind. For as long as she possibly could.

When she awoke from an intense, black sleep, the first thing Andy noticed was the distinctive smell of lavender and the sound of piped-in ocean waves.

‘I'm glad to see you were able to relax,' the masseuse said softly as she tidied the counter with its assorted oil bottles and warm towels. ‘Do you want some help down?'

Andy struggled to focus, but her contact lenses felt like glass.

‘No, I'm fine, thanks,' she said, sending out a silent thank-you to Olive Chase for choosing to have her bachelorette party at the Surrey's hotel spa, and for insisting that Andy join them in the festivities. When Andy had protested, saying she needed only an hour or so to interview Olive, the actress showcased her
million
-dollar laugh and told Andy she would schedule her for a deluxe prenatal treatment that included a salt scrub, milk bath, and full-body massage using a specially designed donut pillow contraption that allowed pregnant women to lie facedown. If there was ever a time she loved her job, it was right then. Let the
New Yorker
writers be sticklers for journalistic integrity. She would get an afternoon of bliss.

Andy pushed herself to a sitting position using both arms and allowed the sheet to fall to her waist. Her belly was officially massive, tight as a drum and situated in such a way that lying down, sitting, and standing were all equally uncomfortable. The only time she felt any relief from the pressure and heaviness was when fully submerged in water, so Andy had taken to spending as much time as possible in the tub. At eight and a half months pregnant, she was no longer going to the office every day. But when Olive had invited
The Plunge
to attend her bachelorette festivities, Andy jumped at the chance: the actress's wedding would be after Andy gave birth, and Andy didn't want to miss all the action.

Carefully lowering her feet to the floor, Andy gathered her clothes and began the tedious task of dressing herself: full-panel maternity leggings, followed by a highly unattractive combination nursing/sports bra, and topped off with a ruched tunic in a hideous eggplant shade. There was simply nothing cute or stylish left at this stage of the game. She slipped her swollen feet into Birkenstocks (she could no longer reach her feet well enough to buckle or tie any real shoes by herself) and sent a silent thank-you that Emily wasn't there to witness this particular getup.

Andy thought about the previous workday's drama. Completely out of the blue they'd received a call from Elias-Clark – the first one since Emily had put them off back in January. Andy was at the OB, getting a standard checkup – one of her last; she could barely believe it – when Emily called her, hysterical.

‘Stanley left me a voice mail,' Emily said breathlessly. ‘He said it's important and we need to call back
immediately.
When are you in today?'

‘I don't know,' Andy said truthfully. ‘I was supposed to be done by now, but the doctor is concerned that the baby isn't moving enough. I think I need more testing.'

‘So, like by eleven? Twelve? You
are
coming in, right?'

Andy tried to ignore Emily's complete lack of interest in the health of her unborn child.

‘I'll be in,' she said, her teeth gritted. ‘I'll be in as soon as I can.'

Dr Kramer was worried that Baby Harrison was acting too ‘snoozy.' There had already been an exam, followed by an ultrasound and, finally, a stress test – all with inconclusive results. Andy and Max were instructed to go get some lunch, including a sugary soda or dessert to give the baby a little jolt, and return an hour later to repeat the stress test. Dr Kramer had casually said, ‘This is not an emergency, so don't worry. You're far enough along now that even if we have to induce you today, everything will be perfectly fine.' Max and Andy exchanged looks: induce
today
? Thankfully all tested normal the second time around and Andy felt like she could breathe again. Emily had been less understanding.

‘Here, we're calling Stanley back this second,' Emily said, following Andy into her office. ‘Don't even take your coat off.'

‘I'm fine, and so is the baby. Thanks for asking,' Andy said.

‘Of course everything's fine or you wouldn't be here. What is not fine is ignoring Miranda Priestly.'

The secretary put their call through and Emily fell all over herself trying to explain what had taken them so long.

Stanley pretended he didn't hear. Or maybe he really didn't. Instead he said, ‘On behalf of Elias-Clark, we would like to increase our proposed purchase price by twelve percent. Miranda would, of course, like an answer immediately.'

Emily glanced at Andy, who shook her head violently. ‘Not now!' she mouthed, pointing to her enormous bump. ‘We agreed we wouldn't talk about this now.'

Emily looked like she was about to have a heart attack. She gripped the phone as if she could better emphasize her point. ‘We'll be back to you
so
soon,' she said. ‘Andy's about to pop. I mean, as soon as the baby's born, we'll be much better situated to'

Stanley's response was not encouraging. ‘I'll let Miranda know,' he said. ‘I know I don't need to tell you two how much patience she has for delays.'

‘Andy won't be out on leave long,' Emily said, her knuckles turning white. ‘I mean, it may mean putting off the conversation for a couple months, but that won't change'

‘Miranda doesn't care about maternity leave,' Stanley said. ‘She herself only missed seventy-two hours for the birth of the twins.'

‘Yes, that really was remarkable,' Andy murmured into the speakerphone, swirling her finger near her forehead to indicate Miranda's lunacy.

Stanley cleared his throat. ‘I just want to be transparent here – waiting isn't her forte. But you've made it clear what your timetable is. Good-bye now.'

After he disconnected, Emily looked at Andy wildly. ‘We may lose this whole thing, Andy!'

Andy stared at her. ‘We made an agreement. No talk until after the baby.'

‘Maybe we should just send our lawyer to talk. To smooth things over. Buy us a little time.'

‘That's not a solution. Seriously, Em, they just upped their offer. They're dying to buy
The Plunge.
Waiting has only improved their terms. Another couple months won't hurt a thing.'

‘This pregnancy is becoming an excuse for everything.' Emily said this quietly, but Andy could feel her frustration.

That very afternoon two signature orange boxes with brown ribbons arrived via messenger from Hermès: three bangles apiece, each one different and ornately beautiful. Emily couldn't put them on fast enough. Andy looked at her with a smile. Maybe playing hard to get
was
enticing to Miranda.

Andy shuddered now just thinking about it. The masseuse led Andy to the relaxation room and helped settle her into a terry-cloth-swathed chaise longue. A minute later, a robe-clad Olive appeared, her already perfect skin literally glowing from a facial. No redness or irritation for her.

‘How was it?' she asked Andy, helping herself to a small plate of dried apricots and almonds.

‘It was heaven. Pure heaven,' Andy said, the same way she might to a friend.