call； “You’re a lucky girl； Andrea。 Miranda’s an amazing woman； and
a million girls would die for your job！”
I tried not to slam into a group of very unhappy…looking lawyers；
and nearly flew into the newsstand in the corner of the lobby； where
a little Kuwaiti man named Ahmed presided over a sleek display of
glossy titles and a noticeably sparser array of mostly sugar…free
candy and diet sodas。 Emily had introduced Ahmed and me to each
other before Christmas as part of my training； and I was hoping he
could be enlisted to help me now。
“Stop right there！” he cried as I began pulling newspapers out of
their wire racks by the register。 “You are Miranda’s new girl；
right？ e here。”
I swiveled to see Ahmed lean down and ferret under the register； his
face turning a bit too red under the strain。 “Ah…ha！” he cried
again； springing to his feet with all the agility of an old man with
two broken legs。 “For you。 So you don’t make a mess of my display； I
keep them aside for you each day。 And maybe to make sure I don’t run
out； too。” He winked。
“Ahmed； thank you。 I can’t even tell you how much this helps me。 Do
you think I should get the magazines now； too？”
“I sure do。 Look； it’s already Wednesday and they all came out on
Monday。 Your boss probably don’t like that so much；” he said
knowingly。 And again he reached under the register and again he rose
with an armful of magazines； which； after a quick glance； I
confirmed were all the ones on my list—no more； no less。
ID card； ID card； where the hell was that goddamn ID card？ I reached
inside my starched white button…down and found the silk lanyard that
Emily had fashioned for me out of one of Miranda’s white Hermès
scarves。 “Never actually wear the card when she’s around； of
course；” she had said； “but just in case you forget to take it off；
at least you won’t be wearing it on a plastic chain。” She had
practically spit out the last two words。
“Here you go； Ahmed。 Thank you so much for your help； but I’m in a
big； big rush。 She’s on her way in。”
He swiped my card down the reader on the side of the machine and
placed the scarf lanyard around my neck like a lei。 “Run； now。 Run！”
I grabbed the overflowing plastic bag and ran； pulling my ID card
out again to swipe against the security turnstiles that would allow
me to enter the Elias…Clark elevator bank。 I swiped and pushed。
Nothing。 I swiped and pushed again； this time harder。 Nothing。
“Some boys kiss me； some boys hug me； I think they’re
okay…ay；”Eduardo； the round and slightly sweaty security guard；
began singing in a high…pitched voice from behind the security desk。
Shit。 I already knew without looking that his smile； conspiratorial
and enormous； demanded again—as it had every single day for the past
few weeks—that I play along。 It seems he had a never…ending supply
of annoying tunes that he loved to sing； and he wouldn’t let me
through the turnstiles until I acted them out。 The day before was
“I’m Too Sexy。” As he sang；“I’m too sexy for Milan； too sexy for
Milan； New York and Japan；” I had to walk down the lobby’s imaginary
runway。 It could be fun when I was in a decent mood。 Sometimes it
even made me smile。 But it was my very first day with Miranda； and I
couldn’t be late getting her things set up； I just couldn’t。 I
wanted tohurt him for holding me up as everyone else breezed past
the security desk in the turnstiles on each side of me。
“If they don’t give me proper credit； I just walk away…ay；”I
muttered； allowing the words to stretch and fade； just like Madonna。
He raised his eyebrows。 “Where’s the enthusiasm； girlfriend？”
I thought I’d do something violent if I heard his voice again； so I
dropped my bag of papers on the counter； threw both arms up in the
air and thrust my hips to the left； while pursing my lips into a
dramatic pout。“A material！ A material！ A material！ A material 。 。 。
WORLD！” I all but screamed； and he cackled and clapped andwhoosh ！
He buzzed me through。
Mental note： Discuss with Eduardo when and where it is appropriate
to make a plete ass of me。Once again； I dove onto the elevators
and raced past Sophy； who kindly opened the doors to the floor
without my even asking。 I even remembered to stop in one of the
minikitchens and put some ice in one of the Baccarat goblets we kept
in a special cabinet over the microwave just for Miranda。 Glass in
one hand； newspapers in another； I peeled around the corner and
smashed directly into Jessica； a。k。a。 Manicure Girl。 She looked both
annoyed and panic…stricken。
“Andrea； are you aware that Miranda is on her way to the office？”
she asked； looking me up and down。
“Sure am。 I’ve got her newspapers right here and her water right
here； and now I just need to get them back to her office。 If you’ll
excuse me 。 。 。”
“Andrea！” she called as I ran past her； an ice cube flying out of
the glass and landing outside the art department。 “Remember to
change your shoes！”
I stopped dead in my tracks and looked down。 I was wearing a pair of
funky street sneakers； the kind that weren’t designed to do anything
but look cool。 The rules of dress—unspoken and otherwise—were
obviously relaxed when Miranda was away； and even though every
single person in the office looked fantastic； each was wearing
something they would swear up and down that they’d never； ever wear
in front of Miranda。 My bright red； mesh sneakers were a prime
example。
I had broken a sweat by the time I made it back to our suite。 “I’ve
got all the papers and I bought the magazines； too； just in case。
The only thing is； I don’t think I can wear these shoes； can I？”
Emily tore the headset from her ear and flung it down on her desk。
“No； of course you can’t wear those。” She picked up the phone；
dialed four digits； and announced； “Jeffy； bring me a pair of
Jimmy’s in a size 。 。 。” She looked at me。
“Nine and a half。” I pulled a small bottle of Pellegrino out of the
closet and filled the glass。
“Nine and a half。 No； now。 No； Jeff； I’m serious。 Right now。 Andrea
is wearingsneakers for chrissake；red sneakers； and She’s going to be
here any minute。 OK； thanks。”
It was then I noticed that in the four minutes I’d been downstairs；
Emily had managed to switch her faded jeans to leather pants and her
own funky sneakers to open…toe stilettos。 She’d also cleaned up the
entire office suite； sweeping the contents of both our desks into
drawers and stashing all of the ining gifts that hadn’t yet been
transferred to Miranda’s apartment in the closet。 She had slicked on
a fresh coat of lip gloss and added some color