“Hey；　it’s　me；　I’m　right　here。　What’s　up？　I’m　kind　of　in　a
  hurry；　so　。　。　。”　I　thought　about　asking　her　directly　if　she’d
  called　to　fire　me　but　decided　to　give　her　a　break　for　once。　I
  braced　myself　for　the　verbal　tirade　she　was　sure　to　let　loose
  on　me—how　could　you　let　her　down；　me　down；Runway　down；　the
  wide　world　of　fashion；　blah；　blah；　blah—but　it　never　came。
  “Oh　yeah；　of　course。　So；　I　just　spoke　to　Miranda　。　。　。”　Her
  voice　trailed　off　as　though　she　was　hoping　I’d　continue　and
  explain　that　the　whole　thing　had　been　a　big　mistake　and　not　to
  worry　because　I’d　managed　to　fix　it　in　the　last　four　minutes。
  “And　you　heard　what　happened；　I’m　assuming？”
  “Um；　yeah！　Andy；　what’s　going　on？”
  “I　should　probably　be　asking　you　that；　right？”
  There　was　silence。
  “Listen；　Em；　I　have　a　feeling　that　you　called　to　fire　me。　It’s
  OK　if　you　did；　I　know　it’s　not　your　decision。　So；　did　she　tell
  you　to　call　and　get　rid　of　me？”　Even　though　I　felt　lighter
  than　I　had　in　many　months；　I　still　found　myself　holding　my
  breath；　wondering　if　maybe；　through　some　dumb　stroke　of　luck
  or　misfortune；　Miranda　had　respected　my　telling　her　to　fuck
  off　instead　of　been　appalled　by　it。
  “Yes。　She　asked　me　to　let　you　know　that　you　have　been
  terminated；　effective　immediately；　and　she　would　like　you　to
  be　checked　out　of　the　Ritz　before　she　returns　from　the　show。”
  She　said　this　softly　and　with　a　trace　of　regret。　Perhaps　it
  was　for　the　many　hours　and　days　and　weeks　she　was　now　facing
  of　finding　and　training　someone　all　over　again；　but　there
  sounded　like　there　might　be　something　even　more　behind　it。
  “You’re　going　to　miss　me；　aren’t　you；　Em？　Go　on；　say　it。　It’s
  OK；　I　won’t　tell　anyone。　As　far　as　I’m　concerned；　this
  conversation　never　happened。　You　don’t　want　me　to　go；　do　you？”
  Miracle　of　miracles；　she　laughed。　“What　did　you　say　to　her？
  She　just　kept　repeating　that　you　were　crass　and　unlady…like。　I
  couldn’t　get　anything　more　specific　out　of　her　than　that。”
  “Oh；　that’s　probably　because　I　told　her　to　fuck　herself。”
  “You　did　not！”
  “You’re　calling　to　fire　me。　I　assure　you；　I　did。”
  “Oh　my　god。”
  “Yeah；　well；　I’d　be　lying　if　I　said　it　wasn’t　the　single　most
  satisfying　moment　of　my　pathetic　life。　Of　course；　I　have　now
  been　fired　by　the　most　powerful　woman　in　publishing。　Not　only
  do　I　not　have　a　way　to　pay　off　my　nearly　maxed…out　MasterCard；
  but　future　jobs　in　magazines　are　looking　rather　dismal。　Maybe
  I　should　try　to　work　for　one　of　her　enemies？　They’d　be　happy
  to　hire　me；　right？”
  “Sure。　Send　your　résumé　over　to　Anna　Wintour—they’ve　never
  liked　each　other　very　much。”
  “Hmm。　Something　to　think　about。　Listen；　Em；　no　hard　feelings；
  OK？”　We　both　knew　that　we　had　absolutely；　positively　not　a
  single　thing　in　mon　but　Miranda　Priestly；　but　as　long　as　we
  were　getting　on　so　famously；　I　figured　I’d　play　along。
  “Sure；　of　course；”　she　lied　awkwardly；　knowing　full　well　that
  I　was　about　to　enter　into　the　upper　stratosphere　of　social
  pariah…dom。　The　chances　of　Emily　admitting　she　had　so　much　as
  known　me　from　this　day　forward　were　nonexistent；　but　that　was
  OK。　Maybe　in　ten　years　when　she　was　sitting　front　and　center
  at　the　Michael　Kors　show　and　I　was　still　shopping　at　Filene’s
  and　dining　at　Benihana；　we’d　laugh　about　the　whole　thing。　But
  probably　not。
  “Well；　I’d　love　to　chat；　but　I’m　kind　of　screwed　up　right　now；
  not　sure　what　to　do　next。　I’ve　got　to　figure　out　a　way　to　get
  Home　as　soon　as　possible。　Do　you　think　I　can　still　use　my
  return　ticket？　She　can’t　fire　me　and　leave　me　stranded　in　a
  foreign　country；　can　she？”
  “Well　of　course　she　would　be　justified　in　doing　so；　Andrea；”
  she　said。　Ah…hah！　One　last　zinger。　It　was　forting　to　know
  that　things　never　really　changed。　“After　all；　it’s　really　you
  who　are　deserting　your　job—you　forced　her　to　fire　you。　But　no；
  I　don’t　think　she’s　a　vengeful　kind　of　person。　Just　charge　the
  change　fee　and　I’ll　figure　out　a　way　to　put　it　through。”
  “Thanks；　Em。　I　appreciate　it。　And　good　luck　to　you；　too。
  You’re　going　to　make　a　fantastic　fashion　editor　someday。”
  “Really？　You　think　so？”　she　asked　eagerly；　happily。　Why　my
  opinion　as　the　biggest　fashion　loser　ever　to　hit　the　scene　was
  at　all　relevant；　I　didn’t　know；　but　she　sounded　very；　very
  pleased。
  “Definitely。　Not　a　doubt　in　my　mind。”
  Christian　called　the　moment　I　hung　up　with　Emily。　He　had；
  unsurprisingly；　already　heard　what　happened。　Unbelievable。　But
  the　pleasure　he　took　from　hearing　the　sordid　details；　bined
  with　all　sorts　of　promises　and　invitations　he　offered　up；　made
  me　feel　sick　again。　I　told　him　as　calmly　as　possible　that　I
  had　a　lot　to　deal　with　right　now；　to　please　stop　calling　in
  the　meantime；　that　I’d　get　in　touch　if　and　when　I　felt　like
  it。
  Since　they　miraculously　didn’t　yet　know　that　I’d　flunked　out
  of　my　job；　Monsieur　Renaud　and　entourage　fell　all　over
  themselves　on　hearing　that　an　emergency　at　Home　demanded　I
  return　immediately。　It　took　only　a　half　hour　for　a　small　army
  of　hotel　staff　to　book　me　on　the　next　flight　to　New　York；　pack
  my　bags；　and　tuck　me　into　the　backseat　of　a　limo　stocked　with
  a　full　bar　bound　for　Charles　de　Gaulle。　The　driver　was　chatty；
  but　I　didn’t　really　respond：　I　wanted　to　enjoy　my　last　moments
  as　the　lowest…paid　but　most　highly　perked　assistant　in　the
  free　world。　I　poured　myself　one　final　flute　of　perfectly　dry
  champagne　and　took　a　long；　slow；　luxurious　sip。　It　had　taken
  eleven　months；　forty…four　weeks；　and　some　3；080　hours　of　work
  to　figure　out—once　and　for　all—that　morphing　into　Miranda
  Priestly’s　mirror　image　was　probably　not　such　a　good　thing。
  Instead　of　a　uniformed　driver　with　a　sign　waiting　for　me　when
  I　exited　customs；　I　found　my　parents；　looking　immensely
  pleased　to　see　me。　We　hugged；　and　after　they　got　over　the
  initial　shock　of　what　I　was　wearing　（skintight；　very　faded　D&G
  jeans　with　spike…heeled　pumps　and　a　pletely　sheer
  shirt—hey；　it　was　listed　in　category；　miscellaneous；
  subcategory；　to　and　from　airport；　and　it　was　by　far　the　most
  plane…appropriate　thing　they’d　packed　for　me）；　they　gave　me
  very　good　news：　Lily　was　awake　and　alert。　We　went　straight　to
  the　hospital；　where　Lily　herself　even　managed　to　give　me
  attitude　about　my　outfit　as　soon　as　I　walked　in。
  Of　course；　there　was　the　legal　problem　for　her　to　contend
  with；　she　had；　after　all；　been　speeding　the　wrong　way　down　a
  one…way　street　in　a　drunken　stupor。　But　since　no　one　else　was
  seriously　hurt；　the　judge　had　shown　tremendous　leniency　and；
  although　she’d　always　have　a　DWI　on　her　record；　she’d　been
  sentenced　to　only　mandatory　alcohol　counseling　and　what　seemed
  like　three　decades’　worth　of　munity　service。　We　hadn’t
  talked　a　lot　about　it—she　still　wasn’t　cool　with　admitting　out
  loud　that　she　had　a　problem—but　I’d　driven　her　to　her　first
  group　session　in　the　East　Village　and　she’d　admitted　that　it
  wasn’t　“too　touchy…feely”　when　she　came　out。　“Freakin’
  annoying”　was　how　she　put　it；　but　when　I　raised　my　eyebrows
  and　gave　her　a　specialty　withering　look—à　la　Emily—she
  conceded　that　there　were　some　cute　guys　there；　and　it　wouldn’t
  kill　her　to　date　someone　sober　for　once。　Fair　enough。　My
  parents　had　convinced　her　to　e　clean　to　the　dean　at
  Columbia；　which　sounded　like　a　nightmare　at　the　time　but　ended
  up　being　a　good　move。　He　not　only　agreed　to　let　Lily　withdraw
  without　failing　in　the　middle　of　the　semester；　but　signed　the
  approval　for　the　bursar’s　office　saying　that　she　could　just
  reapply　for　her　tuition　next　spring。
  Lily’s　life　and　our　friendship　seemed　to　be　back　on　track。　Not
  so　with　Alex。　He’d　been　sitting　by　her　side　at　the　hospital
  when　we　arrived；　and　the　minute　I　saw　him　I　found　myself
  wishing　my　parents　hadn’t　diplomatically　decided　to　wait　in
  the　cafeteria。　There　was　an　awkward　hello　and　a　lot　of　fussing
  over　Lily；　but　when　he’d　shrugged　on　his　jacket　a　half　hour
  later　and　waved　good…bye；　we　hadn’t　said　a　real　word　to　each
  other。　I　called　him　when　I　got　Home；　but　he　let　it　go　to　voice
  mail。　I　called　a　few　times　more　and　hung　up；　stalker…style；
  and　tried　one　last　time　before　I　went　to　bed。　He　answered　but
  sounded　wary。
  “Hi！”　I　said；　trying　to　sound　adorable　and　well　adjusted。
  “Hey。”　He　clearly　wasn’t　into　my　adorableness。
  “Listen；　I　know　she’s　your　friend；　too；　and　that　you　would’ve
  done　that　for　anyone；　but　I　can’t　thank　you　enough　for
  everything　you　did　for　Lily。　Tracking　me　down；　helping　my
  parents；　sitting　with