I　nodded。　“Think　I　screwed　up　pretty　badly　this　time；”　I　said；
  gratefully　accepting　the　plate。　“This　one　just　might　get　me　fired。”
  “Oh；　sweetie；　you　always　say　that。　She　won’t　fire　you。　She　hasn’t
  even　seen　you　hard　at　work　yet。　At　least；　she　better　not　fire
  you—you　have　the　greatest　job　in　the　world！”
  I　looked　at　her　warily　and　willed　myself　to　remain　calm。
  “Well；　you　do；”　she　said。　“So　she　sounds　difficult　to　please　and　a
  little　crazy。　Who　isn’t？　You　still　get　free　shoes　and　makeovers　and
  haircuts　and　clothes。　The　clothes！　Who　on　earth　gets　free　designer
  clothes　just　for　showing　up　at　work　each　day？　Andy；　you　work
  atRunway；　don’t　you　understand？　A　million　girls　would　kill　for　your
  job。”
  I　understood。　I　understood　right　then　that　Lily；　for　the　first　time
  since　I　met　her　nine　years　before；didn’t　understand。　She；　like　all
  my　other　friends；　loved　hearing　the　crazy　work　stories　I’d
  accumulated　in　the　past　weeks—the　gossip　and　the　glamour—but　she
  didn’t　really　understand　just　how　hard　each　day　was。　She　didn’t
  understand　that　the　reason　I　continued　to　show　up；　day　after　day；
  was　not　for　the　free　clothes；　didn’t　understand　that　all　the　free
  clothes　in　the　world　wouldn’t　make　this　job　bearable。　It　was　time　to
  bring　one　of　my　best　friends　into　my　world；　where；　I　was　quite
  certain；　shewould　understand。　She　just　needed　to　be　told。　Yes！　It
  was　time　to　share　with　someone　exactly　what　was　going　on。　I　opened
  my　mouth　to　start；　excited　at　the　prospect　of　having　an　ally；　but　my
  phone　rang。
  Dammit！　I　wanted　to　throw　it　against　the　wall；　tell　whoever　was　on
  the　other　end　to　go　to　hell。　But　a　small　part　of　me　hoped　it　was
  Jonathan　with　some　information。　Lily　smiled　and　told　me　to　take　my
  time。　I　nodded　sadly　and　answered。
  “Is　this　Andrea？”　asked　a　man’s　voice。
  “Yes；　is　this　Jonathan？”
  “It　is　indeed。　I　just　called　Home　and　got　your　message。　I’m　flying
  back　from　Paris　right　now；　somewhere　over　the　Atlantic　as　we　speak；
  but　you　sounded　so　worried　I　wanted　to　call　you　back　right　away。”
  “Thank　you！　Thank　you！　I　really　appreciate　it。　Yes；　I　am　a　bit
  worried；　because　I　got　a　call　from　Miranda　earlier　today　and　it
  seems　strange　that　she　hadn’t　yet　received　the　package。　You　did　give
  it　to　the　driver　in　Paris；　right？”
  “Sure　did。　You　know；　miss；　in　my　Business　I　don’t　ask　any　questions。
  Just　fly　where　I’m　told　and　when　and　try　to　get　everyone　there　in
  one　piece。　But　it’s　sure　not　often　I　end　up　flying　overseas　with
  nothing　onboard　but　a　package。　Must’ve　been　something　real
  important；　I　imagine；　like　an　organ　for　a　transplant　or　maybe　some
  classified　documents。　So　yes；　I　took　real　good　care　of　that　package
  and　I　gave　it　to　the　driver；　just　like　I　was　told。　Nice　fella　from
  the　Ritz。　No　problems。”
  I　thanked　him　and　hung　up。　The　concierge　at　the　Ritz　had　arranged
  for　a　driver　to　meet　Mr。　Tomlinson’s　private　plane　at　de　Gaulle　and
  transfer　Harry　back　to　the　hotel。　If　everything　went　as　planned；
  Miranda　should’ve　had　those　books　by　seven　in　the　morning　local
  time；　and　considering　it　was　already　late　afternoon　there；　I
  couldn’t　imagine　what　had　gone　wrong。　There　was　no　choice：　I　had　to
  call　the　concierge；　and　since　my　cell　wouldn’t　dial　internationally；
  I　had　to　find　a　phone　that　did。
  I　took　the　plate　of　now　cold　waffles　back　to　the　kitchen　and　dumped
  them　in　the　garbage。　Lily　was　lying　on　the　couch　again；　half…asleep。
  I　hugged　her　good…bye　and　told　her　I’d　call　her　later　and　headed　out
  to　hail　a　cab　back　to　the　office。
  “What　about　today？”　she　whined。　“I　haveThe　American　President　all
  lined　up　and　ready　to　go。　You　can’t　leave　yet—our　weekend’s　not
  over！”
  “I　know；　I’m　sorry；　Lil。　I　have　to　deal　with　this　now。　There’s
  nothing　I’d　rather　do　than　stay　here；　but　she’s　got　me　on　a　pretty
  short　leash　right　now。　I’ll　call　you　later？”
  The　office　was；　of　course；　deserted；　as　everyone　was　surely
  brunching　at　Pastis　with　their　investment　banker　boyfriends。　I　sat
  in　my　darkened　area；　took　a　deep　breath；　and　dialed。　Blissfully；
  Monsieur　Renaud；　my　favorite　of　the　Ritz　concierges；　was　available。
  “Andrea；　dear；　how　are　you？　We’re　simply　delighted　to　have　Miranda
  and　the　twins　back　with　us　again　so　soon；”　he　lied。　Emily　told　me
  that　Miranda　stayed　at　the　Ritz　so　frequently　that　the　entire　hotel
  staff　knew　her　and　the　girls　by　name。
  “Yes；　Monsieur　Renaud；　and　I　know　she’s　just　thrilled　to　be　there；”
  I　lied　back。　No　matter　how　acmodating　the　poor　concierge　was；
  Miranda　found　fault　with　his　every　move。　To　his　credit；　he　never
  stopped　trying；　and　he　never　stopped　lying　about　how　much　he　loved
  her；　either。　“Listen；　I’m　wondering　if　that　car　you　sent　to　meet
  Miranda’s　plane　made　it　back　to　the　hotel　already？”
  “Well　of　course；　dear。　That　was　hours　ago。　He　must’ve　returned　here
  before　eight　o’clock　this　morning。　I　sent　the　best　driver　we　have　on
  staff；”　he　said　proudly。　If　only　he　knew　what　his　best　driver　had
  been　sent　to　shuttle　around　town。
  “Well；　that’s　so　strange；　because　I　got　a　message　from　Miranda
  saying　that　she　never　received　the　package；　but　I’ve　checked　with
  the　driver　here　who　swears　he　dropped　it　at　the　airport；　the　pilot
  who　swears　he　flew　it　to　Paris　and　gave　it　to　your　driver；　and　now
  you　who　remember　it　arriving　at　the　hotel。　How　could　she　not　have
  received　it？”
  “It　seems　the　only　way　to　solve　this　is　to　ask　the　lady　herself；”　he
  trilled　in　a　fake…happy　voice。　“Why　don’t　I　connect　you？”
  I　had　hoped　against　all　hope　that　it　wouldn’t　e　to　this；　that　I’d
  be　able　to　identify　and　fix　the　problem　without　having　to　speak　to
  her。　What　would　I　tell　her　if　she　still　insisted　that　she’d　never
  received　the　package？　Was　I　supposed　to　suggest　that　she　look　on　the
  table　in　her　suite；　where　it　was　inevitably　left　hours　earlier？　Or
  was　I　supposed　to　go　through　the　whole　thing；　private　jet　and　all；
  and　get　her　two　more　copies　by　the　end　of　the　day？　Or　perhaps　I
  should　hire　a　secret　service　agent　next　time　to　acpany　the　books
  on　their　journey　overseas　and　ensure　that　nothing　promises　their
  safe　arrival？　Something　to　think　about。
  “Sure；　Monsieur　Renaud。　Thanks　for　your　help。”
  A　few　clicks　and　the　phone　was　ringing。　I　was　sweating　slightly　from
  the　tension；　so　I　wiped　my　palm　on　my　sweatpants　and　tried　not　to
  think　what　would　happen　if　Miranda　saw　me　wearing　sweatpants　in　her
  office。Be　calm；　be　confident；　I　coached　myself。She　can’t　disembowel
  me　over　the　phone　。
  “Yes？”　I　heard　from　a　faraway　place；　jolting　myself　out　of　my
  self…help　thoughts。　It　was　Caroline　who；　at　a　mere　ten　years；　had
  perfected　her　mother’s　brusque　phone　manner　perfectly。　Cassidy　at
  least　had　the　courtesy　to　answer　the　phone　with　a　“hello。”
  “Hi；　sweetie；”　I　crooned；　hating　myself　for　sucking　up　to　a　child。
  “It’s　Andrea；　from　the　office。　Is　your　mom　there？”
  “You　mean　mymum　？”　she　corrected　as　she　always　did　when　I　used　the
  American　pronunciation。　“Sure；　I’ll　get　her。”
  A　moment　or　two　later；　Miranda　was　on　the　line。
  “Yes；　Ahn…dre…ah？　This　had　better　be　important。　You　know　how　I　feel
  about　being　interrupted　when　I’m　spending　time　with　the　girls；”　she
  stated　in　her　cold；　clipped　way。You　know　how　I　feel　about　being
  interrupted　when　I’m　spending　time　with　the　girls？　I　wanted　to
  scream。Are　you　fucking　kidding　me；　lady？　You　think　I’m　calling　for
  my　goddamn　health？　Because　I　couldn’t　bear　to　go　a　single　weekend
  without　hearing　your　miserable　voice？　And　what　about　me　spending
  time　with　mygirls？　I　thought　I’d　pass　out　from　anger；　but　I　took　a
  deep　breath　and　dove　right　in。
  “Miranda；　I’m　sorry　if　this　is　a　bad　time；　but　I’m　calling　to　ensure
  that　you　received　the　Harry　Potter　books。　I　heard　your　message
  saying　that　you　hadn’t　yet　received　them；　but　I’ve　spoken　to
  everyone　and—”
  She　interrupted　me　midsentence　and　spoke　slowly　and　surely。
  “Ahn…dre…ah。　You　should　really　listen　more　closely。　I　said　no　such
  thing。　We　received　the　package　early　this　morning。　Incidentally；　it
  came　so　early　that　they　woke　us　all　up　for　the　silly　thing。”
  I　couldn’t　believe　what　I　was　hearing。　I　didn’t　dream　that　she’d
  left　the　message；　did　I？　I　was　still　too　young　even　for　early…onset
  Alzheimer’s；　right？
  “What　I　said　was　that　we　didn’t　receiveboth　copies　of　the　book；　as　I
  had　requested。　The　package　included　only　one；　and　I’m　sure　you　can
  imagine　just　how　disappointed　the　girls　are。　They　were　really
  looking　forward　to　each　having　theirown　copy；　as　I　had　requested。　I
  need　you　to　explain　why　my