behind　to　be　watched　over　by　their　whacked…out　friends　at　the
  mune　in　New　Mexico　（or　as　Lily　preferred；　the　“collective”）。　When
  they　hadn’t　returned　almost　a　year　later；　Lily’s　grandmother　took
  her　from　the　mune　（or　as　Lily’s　grandmother　preferred；　the
  “cult”）　to　live　with　her　in　Avon。　The　day　I　found　her　crying　alone
  in　the　cafeteria　was　the　day　her　grandmother　had　forced　her　to　chop
  off　her　dirty　dreadlocks　and　wear　a　dress；　and　Lily　was　not　happy
  about　it。　Something　about　the　way　she　talked；　the　way　she　said；
  “That’s　so　Zen　of　you；”　and　“Let’s　just　depress；”　charmed　me；　and
  we　immediately　became　friends。　We’d　been　inseparable　through　the
  rest　of　high　school；　had　roomed　together　for　all　four　years　at
  Brown。　Lily　hadn’t　yet　decided　whether　she　preferred　MAC　lipstick　or
  hemp　necklaces　and　was　still　a　little　too　“quirky”　to　do　anything
  totally　mainstream；　but　we　plemented　each　other　well。　And　I
  missed　her。　Because　with　her　first　year　as　a　graduate　student　and　my
  being　a　virtual　slave；　we　hadn’t　seen　a　whole　lot　of　each　other
  lately。
  I　couldn’t　wait　for　the　weekend。　My　fourteen…hour　workdays　were
  registering　in　my　feet；　my　upper　arms；　my　lower　back。　Glasses　had
  replaced　the　contacts　I’d　worn　for　a　decade　because　my　eyes　were　too
  dry　and　tired　to　accept　them　anymore。　I　smoked　a　pack　a　day　and
  subsisted　solely　on　Starbucks　（expensed；　of　course）　and　takeout
  sushi　（further　expensed）。　I’d　begun　losing　weight　already。　The
  weight　I’d　lost　from　the　dysentery　had　returned　briefly；　but　after
  my　stint　atRunway　it　had　begun　to　disappear　again。　Something　in　the
  air　there；　I　suppose；　or　perhaps　it　was　the　intensity　with　which
  food　was　eschewed　in　the　office。　I’d　already　weathered　a　sinus
  infection　and　had　paled　significantly；　and　it　had　been　only　four
  weeks。　I　was　only　twenty…three　years　old。　And　Miranda　hadn’t　even
  been　in　the　office　yet。　Fuck　it。　I　deserved　aweekend　。
  Into　this　mix　leaped　Harry　Potter；　and　I　wasnot　pleased。　Miranda　had
  called　this　morning。　It　took　only　a　few　moments　for　her　to　outline
  what　she　wanted；　although　it　took　me　forever　to　interpret　it。　I
  learned　quickly　that　in　the　Miranda　Priestly　world；　it　was　better　to
  do　something　wrong　and　spend　a　great　deal　of　time　and　money　to　fix
  it　than　to　admit　you　didn’t　understand　her　convoluted　and　heavily
  accented　instructions　and　ask　for　clarification。　So　when　she　mumbled
  something　about　getting　the　Harry　Potter　books　for　the　twins　and
  having　them　flown　to　Paris；　intuition　alone　told　me　this　was　going
  to　interfere　with　my　weekend。　When　she　hung　up　abruptly　a　few
  minutes　later；　I　looked　to　Emily　with　panic。
  “What；　oh；　what；　did　she　say？”　I　moaned；　hating　myself　for　being　too
  scared　to　ask　Miranda　to　repeat　herself。　“Why　can　I　not　understand　a
  single　word　that　woman　utters？　It’s　not　me；　Em。　I　speak　English；
  always　have。　I　know　she　does　it　to　personally　drive　me　crazy。”
  Emily　looked　at　me　with　her　usual　mix　of　disgust　and　pity。　“Since
  the　book　es　out　tomorrow　and　they’re　not　here　to　buy　it；　she
  wants　you　to　pick　up　two　copies　and　bring　them　to　Teterboro。　The　jet
  will　take　them　to　Paris；”　she　summed　up　coldly；　daring　me　to　ment
  on　the　ludicrousness　of　the　instructions。　I　was　reminded　once　again
  that　Emily　would　do　anything—really；　anything—if　it　meant　making
  Miranda　a　bit　more　fortable。　I　rolled　my　eyes　and　kept　quiet。
  Since　I　was　NOT　going　to　sacrifice　a　nanosecond　of　weekend　to　do　her
  bidding；　and　because　I　had　an　unlimited　amount　of　money　and　power
  （hers）　at　my　personal　disposal；　I　spent　the　rest　of　the　day
  arranging　for　Harry　Potter　to　jet　his　way　to　Paris。　First；　a　few
  words　for　Julia　at　Scholastic。
  Dearest　Julia；
  My　assistant；　Andrea；　tells　me　that　you’re　the　sweetheart　to　whom　I
  should　address　my　most　heartfelt　appreciation。　She　has　informed　me
  that　you　are　the　single　person　capable　of　locating　a　couple　copies
  of　this　darling　book　for　me　tomorrow。　I　want　you　to　know　how　much　I
  appreciate　your　hard　work　and　cleverness。　Please　know　how　happy
  you’ll　make　my　sweet　daughters。　And　don’t　ever　hesitate　to　let　me
  know　if　you　need　anything；　anything　at　all；　for　a　fabulous　girl　like
  yourself。
  XOXO；
  Miranda　Priestly
  I　forged　her　name　with　a　perfect　flourish　（hour　upon　hour　of
  practicing　with　Emily　standing　over　me；　instructing　me　to　make　the
  final　“a”　a　little　loopier；　had　finally　paid　off）；　attached　the　note
  to　the　latest　issue　ofRunway　—one　not　yet　on　the　newsstand—and
  called　for　a　rush　messenger　to　deliver　the　entire　package　to
  Scholastic’s　downtown　office。　If　this　didn’t　work；　nothing　would。
  Miranda　didn’t　care　that　we　forged　her　signature—it　saved　her　from
  bothering　with　details—but　she’d　probably　be　livid　to　see　that　I’d
  penned　something　so　polite；　soadorable；　using　her　name。
  Three　short　weeks　earlier　I　would　have　quickly　canceled　my　plans　if
  Miranda　called　and　wanted　me　to　do　something　for　her　on　the
  weekends；　but　I　was　now　experienced—and　jaded—enough　to　bend　the
  rules　a　little。　Since　Miranda　and　the　girls　would　not　themselves　be
  at　the　airport　in　New　Jersey　whenHarry　arrived　the　following　day；　I
  saw　no　reason　why　I　had　to　be　the　one　to　deliver　him。　Acting　under
  the　assumption　and　prayer　that　Julia　would　pull　through　for　me　with
  a　couple　copies；　I　worked　out　some　details。　Dial；　dial；　and　within
  an　hour　a　plan　had　emerged。
  Brian；　a　cooperative　editorial　assistant　at　Scholastic—whom　I　was
  assured　would　have　permission　from　Julia　within　a　couple　hours—would
  take　Home　two　office　copies　ofHarry　that　evening；　so　he　wouldn’t
  have　to　go　back　to　the　office　on　Saturday。　Brian　would　leave　the
  books　with　the　doorman　of　his　Upper　West　Side　apartment　building；
  and　I　would　have　a　car　pick　them　up　the　following　morning　at　eleven。
  Miranda’s　driver；　Uri；　would　then　call　me　on　my　Cell　Phone　to
  confirm　that　he’d　received　the　package　and　was　on　his　way　to　drop　it
  at　Teterboro　airport；　where　the　two　books　would　be　transferred　to
  Mr。　Tomlinson’s　private　jet　and　flown　to　Paris。　I　briefly　considered
  conducting　the　entire　operation　in　code　to　make　it　resemble　a　KGB
  operation　even　more；　but　dropped　that　when　I　remembered　that　Uri
  didn’t　really　speak　regular　English　that　well。　I　had　checked　to　see
  how　fast　the　fastest　DHL　option　would　have　them　there；　but　delivery
  couldn’t　be　guaranteed　until　Monday；　which　was　obviously
  unacceptable。　Hence　the　private　plane。　If　all　went　as　planned；
  little　Cassidy　and　Caroline　could　wake　up　in　their　private　Parisian
  suite　on　Sunday　and　enjoy　their　morning　milk　while　reading　about
  Harry’s　adventures—a　full　day　earlier　than　all　of　their　friends。　It
  warmed　my　heart；　it　really　did。
  Minutes　after　the　cars　had　been　reserved　and　all　the　appropriate
  people　put　on　alert；　Julia　called　back。　Although　it’d　be　a　grueling
  task　and　she　was　likely　to　get　in　trouble；　she’d　be　happy　to　give
  Brian　two　copies　for　Ms。　Priestly。　Amen。
  “Do　you　believe　he　gotengaged　？”　Lily　asked　as　she　rewound　the　copy
  ofFerris　Bueller　we’d　just　finished。　“I　mean；　we’re　twenty…three
  years　old　for　goodness　sake—what’s　the　rush？”
  “I　know；　it　does　seem　weird。”　I　called　from　the　kitchen。　“Maybe　Mom
  and　Dad　won’t　let　him　have　access　to　the　massive　trust　fund　until
  he’s　settled　down？　That’d　be　enough　motivation　to　put　a　ring　on　her
  finger。　Or　maybe　he’s　just　lonely？”
  Lily　looked　at　me　and　laughed。　“Naturally；　he　can’t　just　be　in　love
  with　her　and　ready　to　spend　the　rest　of　his　life　with　her；　right？　I
  mean；　we’ve　established　that　that’s　totally　out　of　the　question；
  right？”
  “Correct。　That’s　not　an　option。　Try　again。”
  “Well；　then；　I’m　forced　to　pick　curtain　number　three。　He’s　gay。　He
  finally　came　to　the　realization　himself—even　though　I’ve　known
  forever—and　realizes　that　Mom　and　Dad　won’t　be　able　to　handle　it；　so
  he’ll　cover　by　marrying　the　first　girl　he　can　find。　What　do　you
  think？”
  Casablancawas　next　on　the　list；　and　Lily　fast…forwarded　past　the
  opening　credits　while　I　microwaved　cups　of　hot　chocolate　in　the　tiny
  kitchen　of　her　nonalcove　studio　in　Morningside　Heights。　We　lazed
  around　straight　through　Friday　night—breaking　only　to　smoke　and　make
  another　Blockbuster　run。　Saturday　afternoon　found　us　particularly
  motivated；　and　we　managed　to　saunter　down　to　SoHo　for　a　few　hours。
  We　each　bought　new　tank　tops　for　Lily’s　uping　New　Year’s　party
  and　shared　an　oversize　mug　of　eggnog　from　a　sidewalk　café。　By　the
  time　we　made　it　back　to　her　apartment　on　Saturday；　we　were　exhausted
  and　happy　and　spent　the　rest　of　the　night　alter