wrote　and　wrote　and　wrote　as　Emily　revealed　these　things　throughout
  our　weeks　together；　and　when　we　were　finished；　I　felt　there　was
  nothing　I　did　not　know　about　Miranda　Priestly。　Except；　of　course；
  what　exactly　made　her　so　important　that　I’d　filled　a　legal　pad　with
  likes　and　dislikes。　Why；　exactly；　was　I　supposed　to　care？
  “Yeah；　he’s　amazing；”　Emily　was　sighing；　twisting　the　phone　cord
  round　and　round　her　forefinger。　“It　was　the　most　romantic　weekend　I
  think　I’ve　ever　had。”
  Ping！　You　have　a　new　e…mail　from　Alexander　Fineman。　Click　here　to
  open。　Oooh；　fun。　Elias…Clark　had　firewalled　instant　messenger；　but
  for　some　reason　I　could　still　receive　instant　notifications　that　I’d
  received　a　new　e…mail。　I’d　take　it。
  Hey　baby；　how’s　your　day？？　Things　are　crazy　here；　as　usual。　Remember
  I　told　you　that　Jeremiah　had　threatened　all　the　little　girls　with　a
  box　cutter　he’d　brought　from　Home？　Well；　it　seems　he　was　serious—he
  brought　another　one　to　school　today　and　sliced　one　of　the　girls’
  arms　at　recess　and　called　her　a　bitch。　Not　a　deep　cut　at　all；　but
  when　the　teacher　on　duty　asked　him　where　he’d　gotten　such　an　idea；
  he　said　he　saw　his　mom’s　boyfriend　do　it　to　his　mom。　He’s　six　years
  old；　Andy；　can　you　believe　it？　Anyway；　the　principal　called　an
  emergency　faculty　meeting　tonight；　so　I’m　afraid　I　can’t　make
  dinner。　I’m　so　sorry！　But　I　have　to　say；　I’m　happy　that　they’re
  responding　to　this　at　all—it’s　more　than　I　had　hoped　for。　You
  understand；　don’t　you？　Please　don’t　be　mad。　I’ll　call　you　later；　and
  I　promise　to　make　it　up　to　you。　Love；　A
  Please　don’t　be　mad？　I　hope　you　understand？　One　of　his
  fourth…graders　hadslashed　another　student　and　he　was　hoping　I’d　be
  OK　with　him　canceling　dinner？　I’d　canceled　on　him　my　first　week
  because　I’d　thought　my　week　of　riding　around　in　a　limo　and　wrapping
  presents　had　been　too　demanding。　I　wanted　to　cry；　to　call　him　and
  tell　him　it　was　more　than　OK；　that　I　was　proud　of　him　for　caring
  about　these　kids；　for　taking　the　job　in　the　first　place。　I　hit
  “reply”　and　was　just　about　to　write　as　much　when　I　heard　my　name。
  “Andrea！　She’s　on　her　way　in。　She’ll　be　here　in　ten　minutes；”　Emily
  announced　loudly；　obviously　struggling　to　remain　calm。
  “Hmm？　I’m　sorry；　I　didn’t　hear　what—”
  “Miranda　is　on　her　way　into　the　office　this　moment。　We　need　to　get
  ready。”
  “On　her　way　into　the　office？　But　I　thought　she　wasn’t　even　ing
  back　to　the　country　until　Saturday　。　。　。”
  “Well；　clearly　she　changed　her　mind。　Now；　move！　Go　downstairs　and
  get　her　papers　and　lay　them　out　just　the　way　I　told　you。　When　you’re
  done；　wipe　down　her　desk　and　leave　a　glass　of　Pellegrino　on　the
  left…hand　side；　with　ice　and　a　lime。　And　make　sure　that　her　bathroom
  is　stocked；　OK？　Go！　She’s　already　in　the　car；　so　she　should　be　here
  in　less　than　ten　minutes；　depending　on　traffic。”
  As　I　raced　out　of　the　office；　I　could　hear　Emily　rapid…fire　dialing
  four…digit　extensions　and　all　but　screaming；　“She’s　on　her　way—tell
  everyone。”　It　took　me　only　three　seconds　to　wind　through　the
  hallways　and　pass　through　the　fashion　department；　but　I　already
  heard　panicked　cries　of　“Emily　said　she’s　on　her　way　in”　and
  “Miranda’s　ing！”　and　a　particularly　blood…curdling　cry　of
  “She’sbaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack　！”　Assistants　were　frantically
  straightening　clothes　on　the　racks　that　lined　the　halls；　and　editors
  were　racing　into　their　offices；　where　I　could　see　one　changing　from
  her　kitten…heeled　shoes　to　four…inch　stilettos　while　another　lined
  her　lips；　curled　her　lashes；　and　adjusted　her　bra　strap　without　so
  much　as　slowing　down。　As　the　publisher　walked　out　of　the　men’s　room；
  I　glanced　past　him　and　saw　James；　looking　frenzied；　checking　his
  black　cashmere　sweater　for　lint　while　spastically　popping　Altoids　in
  his　mouth。　Unless　the　men’s　room　was　wired　with　loudspeakers　for
  these　very　occasions；　I　wasn’t　even　sure　how　he’d　heard　yet。
  I　was　dying　to　stop　and　watch　the　scene　unfold；　but　I　had　less　than
  ten　minutes　to　prepare　for　my　first　meeting　with　Miranda　as　her
  actual　assistant；　and　I　wasn’t　going　to　blow　it。　Until　then　I’d　been
  trying　not　to　appear　as　if　I’d　been　actually　running；　but　upon
  witnessing　the　utter　lack　of　dignity　everyone　else　had　demonstrated；
  I　broke　into　a　sprint。
  “Andrea！　You　know　Miranda’s　on　her　way　here；　don’t　you？”　Sophy
  called　from　the　reception　desk　as　I　flew　by。
  “Yeah；　I　know；　but　how　do　you　know？”
  “Sweetie　pie；　I　know　everything。　Now　I　suggest　you　get　your　butt　in
  gear。　One　thing’s　for　sure：　Miranda　Priestly　doesnot　like　to　be　kept
  waiting。”
  I　leapt　onto　the　elevator　and　called　out　a　thank　you。　“I’ll　be　back
  in　three　minutes　with　the　papers！”
  The　two　women　on　the　elevator　stared　at　me　in　disgust；　and　I
  realized　that　I　had　been　screaming。
  “Sorry；”　I　said；　trying　to　catch　my　breath。　“We　just　found　out　that
  our　editor　in　chief　is　on　her　way　to　the　office　and　we　weren’t
  prepared；　so　everyone’s　a　little　edgy　now。”Why　am　I　explaining
  myself　to　these　people？
  “Ohmigod；　you　must　work　for　Miranda！　Wait；　let　me　guess。　You’re
  Miranda’s　new　assistant？　Andrea；　right？”　The　leggy　brunette　flashed
  what　must’ve　been　four　dozen　teeth　and　moved　forward　like　a　piranha。
  Her　friend　instantly　brightened。
  “Um；　yeah。　Andrea；”　I　said；　repeating　my　own　name　as　though　I　wasn’t
  entirely　sure　it　was　mine。　“And　yes；　I’m　Miranda’s　new　assistant。”
  At　that　moment　the　elevator　hit　the　lobby　and　the　doors　opened　to
  the　stark　white　marble。　I　moved　ahead　of　the　women　and　bolted
  through　before　the　doors　had　opened　entirely　and　heard　one　of　them
  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