“Hire　her；”　Miranda　had　decreed　when　she　met　Annabelle；　the　twelfth
  girl　I’d　interviewed　and　one　of　only　two　that　I’d　decided　were　fit
  to　even　meet　Miranda。　Annabelle　was　a　native　French　speaker　（she
  actually　spoke　so　little　English　I　had　to　have　the　twins　translate
  for　me）；　a　graduate　of　the　Sorbonne；　and　the　possessor　of　a　long；
  hard　body；　with　gorgeous　brown　hair。　She　had　style。　She　wasn’t
  afraid　to　wear　stilettos　on　the　job　and　didn’t　seem　to　mind
  Miranda’s　brusque　manner。　In　fact；　she　was　rather　aloof　and　brusque
  herself　and　never　really　seemed　to　make　any　sort　of　eye　contact。
  Always　kind　of　bored；　a　touch　disinterested；　and　supremely
  confident。　I　was　thrilled　when　Miranda　wanted　her；　both　because　it
  saved　me　weeks　more　of　meeting　nanny　wannabes　and　because　it
  indicated—in　some　teeny；　tiny　way—that　I　was　starting　to　get　it。
  Get　what；　exactly；　I　wasn’t　sure；　but　things　were　going　as　smoothly
  as　I　could　have　hoped　at　this　point。　I’d　pulled　off　the　clothing
  order　with　only　a　few　noticeable　screwups。　She　hadn’t　exactly　been
  psyched　when　I’d　shown　her　everything　she’d　ordered　from　Givenchy
  and　accidentally　pronounced　it　precisely　as　it　appears—give…EN…chee。
  After　much　glaring　and　a　few　snide　ments；　I　was　informed　of　the
  correct　pronunciation；　and　everything　went　reasonably　well　until　she
  had　to　be　told　that　the　Roberto　Cavalli　dresses　she’d　requested
  hadn’t　been　made　yet　and　wouldn’t　be　ready　for　another　three　weeks。
  But　I’d　handled　that　and　had　managed　to　coordinate　fittings　in　the
  Closet　with　her　tailor　and　had　assembled　nearly　everything　in　the
  closet　in　her　Home　dressing　room；　a　space　roughly　the　size　of　a
  studio　apartment。
  The　party　planning　had　continued　in　Miranda’s　absence　and　picked　up
  again　full…force　with　her　return；　but　there　was　surprisingly　little
  panic—it　appeared　that　everything　was　in　order；　and　that　the
  uping　Friday　was　set　to　go　off　without　a　hitch。　Chanel　had
  delivered　a　one…of…a…kind；　floor…length　red　beaded　sheath　while
  Miranda　was　in　Europe；　and　I’d　immediately　sent　it　to　the　cleaners
  for　a　once…over。　I’d　seen　a　similar　Chanel　dress　in　black　in　the
  pages　ofW　the　month　before；　and　when　I　pointed　it　out　to　Emily；
  she’d　nodded　somberly。
  “Forty　thousand　dollars；”　she’d　said；　moving　her　head　up　and　down；
  up　and　down。　She　double…clicked　on　a　pair　of　black　pants　onstyle
  ；　where　she’d　spent　months　scouring　for　ideas　for　her　uping　trip
  to　Europe　with　Miranda。
  “Forty　thousand　WHAT？”
  “Her　dress。　The　red　one　from　Chanel。　It　costs　forty　thousand　dollars
  if　you　were　to　buy　it　retail。　Of　course；　Miranda　isn’t　paying　full
  price；　but　she　didn’t　get　this　one　for　free；　either。　Isn’t　it　wild？”
  “Forty　thousand　DOLLARS？”　I’d　asked　again；　still　unable　to　believe
  that　I’d　held　a　single　item　worth　so　much　money　in　my　hands　just
  hours　earlier。　I　couldn’t　help　a　quick　conceptualization　of　forty
  grand：　two　full　years’　college　tuition；　a　down　payment　on　a　new
  Home；　an　averageyearly　salary　for　a　typical　American　family　of　four。
  Or；　at　the　very　least；　one　hell　of　a　lot　of　Prada　bags。　But　one
  dress？　I　thought　I’d　seen　it　all　at　that　point；　but　I　was　due
  another　zinger　when　the　dress　came　back　from　the　couture　dry　cleaner
  with　a　calligraphic　envelope　that　readMs。　Miranda　Priestly　。　Inside
  was　a　hand…printed　invoice　on　cream…colored　cardstock　that　read：
  Garment　type：Evening　gown。　Designer：Chanel。　Length：Ankle。
  Colour：Red。　Size：Zero。　Description：Hand…beaded；　sleeveless　with
  slight　scoop　neckline；　invisible　side　zipper；　heavy　silk　lining。
  Service：Basic；　first…time　cleaning。　Fee：670。
  There　was　an　additional　note　underneath　the　actual　bill　part　from
  the　shop’s　owner；　a　woman　I　was　sure　paid　both　the　rent　for　her
  store　and　her　Home　with　the　money　she　received　from　Elias　on　behalf
  of　Miranda’s　extensive　dry…cleaning　addiction。
  We　were　delighted　to　work　on　such　a　gorgeous　gown　and　we　hope　you
  enjoy　wearing　it　to　your　party　at　the　Metropolitan　Museum　of　Art。　As
  directed；　we　will　pick　up　the　gown　on　Monday；　May　24；　for　its
  postparty　cleaning。　Please　let　us　know　if　we　may　be　of　any
  additional　service。　All　the　best；　Colette。
  Either　way；　it　was　only　Thursday　and　Miranda　had　a　brand…new　and
  newly　cleaned　gown　resting　gently　in　her　closet；　and　Emily　had
  located　the　exact　silver　Jimmy　Choo　sandals　she’d　requested。　The
  hair　stylist　was　due　at　her　house　at　five…thirtyP　。M。　on　Friday；　the
  makeup　artist　at　five　forty…five；　and　Uri　was　on　call　for　exactly
  six…fifteen　to　take　Miranda　and　Mr。　Tomlinson　to　the　museum。
  Miranda　had　already　left　for　the　day　to　watch　Cassidy’s　gymnastics
  meet；　and　I　was　hoping　to　duck　out　early　to　surprise　Lily。　She’d
  just　finished　her　last　exam　of　the　year　and　I　wanted　to　take　her　out
  for　a　celebration。
  “Hey；　Em；　do　you　think　I　could　leave　by　six…thirty　or　seven　today？
  Miranda　said　she　didn’t　need　the　Book　because　there　really　wasn’t
  anything　new；”　I　added　quickly；　irritated　that　I　had　to　beg　my
  equal；　my　peer　for　permission　to　leave　work　after　only　twelve　hours
  instead　of　the　usual　fourteen。
  “Um；　sure。　Yeah；　whatever。　I’m　leaving　now。”　She　checked　her
  puter　screen　and　saw　that　it　was　a　little　after　five。　“Stay　for
  another　couple　hours　and　then　head　out。　She’s　with　the　twins
  tonight；　so　I　don’t　think　she　should　be　calling　much。”　She　had　a
  date　that　night　with　the　guy　she’d　met　in　LA　over　New　Year’s。　He’d
  finally　made　it　to　New　York　and；　surprise　of　all　surprises；　he’d
  actually　called。　They　were　headed　to　Craftbar　for　drinks；　at　which
  point　she　would　treat　him　to　Nobu　if　he　was　behaving　himself。　She’d
  made　the　reservations　five　weeks　earlier　when　he’d　e…mailed　that　he
  might　be　in　New　York；　but　Emily　still　had　to　use　Miranda’s　name　to
  score　the　time　slot。
  “Well；　what　are　you　going　to　do　when　you　show　up　there　and　you’re
  clearly　not　Miranda　Priestly？”　I　asked　stupidly。
  As　usual；　I　received　an　expert　eye…roll…deep…sigh　bo。　“I’ll
  simply　tell　them　that　Miranda　had　to　be　out　of　town　unexpectedly；
  show　them　a　Business　card；　and　tell　them　she　wanted　me　to　have　her
  reservation。　Hardly　a　big　deal。”
  Miranda　called　only　once　after　Emily　left　to　tell　me　that　she
  wouldn’t　be　in　the　office　until　noon　tomorrow；　but　she’d　like　a　copy
  of　the　restaurant　review　she’d　read　today　“in　the　paper。”　I　had　the
  presence　of　mind　to　ask　if　she　recalled　the　name　of　the　restaurant
  or　the　paper　in　which　she　read　about　it；　but　this　annoyed　her
  greatly。
  “Ahn…dre…ah；　I’m　already　late　for　the　meet。　Don’t　grill　me。　It　was
  an　Asian　fusion　restaurant　and　it　was　in　today’s　paper。　That’s　all。”
  And　with　that；　she　snapped　her　Motorola　V60　shut。　I　hoped；　as　I
  usually　did　when　she　cut　me　off　midsentence；　that　one　day　the　Cell
  Phone　would　simply　clamp　down　on　her　perfectly　manicured　fingers　and
  swallow　them　whole；　taking　special　time　to　shred　those　flawless　red
  nails。　No　luck　yet。
  I　wrote　a　quick　note　to　myself　to　find　the　restaurant　first　thing　in
  the　morning　in　the　notebook　I　kept　with　Miranda’s　myriad　and
  ever…changing　requests　and　bolted　for　the　car。　I　called　Lily　from　my
  cell　and　she　picked　up　just　as　I　was　about　to　get　out　and　go　up　to
  the　apartment；　and　so　I　waved　to　John　Fisher…Galliano　（who　had　grown
  his　hair　a　little　longer　and　adorned　his　uniform　with　a　few　chains
  and　looked　more　like　the　designer　each　and　every　day）　but　didn’t
  move。
  “Hey；　what’s　up？　It’s　me。”
  “Hiiiiiiiiiii；”she　sang；　happier　than　I’d　heard　her　in　weeks；　maybe
  months。　“I　am　so　done。　Done！　No　early　summer　session；　nothing　but　a
  little；　insignificant　proposal　due　for　a　master’s　thesis　that　I　can
  change　ten　times　after　the　fact　if　I　want。　So　that　leaves　nothing
  until　mid…July。　Do　you　believe　it？”　She　sounded　positively　gleeful。
  “I　know；　I’m　so　excited　for　you！　You　up　for　a　celebratory　dinner？
  Anywhere　you　want；　it’s　onRunway　。”
  “Really？　Anywhere？”
  “Anywhere。　I’m　downstairs　and　I　have　a　car。　e　down；　we’ll　go
  somewhere　great。”
  She　squealed。　“Fun！　I’ve　been　meaning　to　tell　you　all　about　Freudian
  Boy。　He’s　beautiful！　Hold　on　one　second。　I’m　putting　on　jeans　and
  I’ll　be　right　down。”
  She　bounded　out　five　minutes　later　looking　trendier　and　happier　than
  I’d　seen　her　in　a　very　long　time。　She　wore　a　pair　of　tight；　faded
  boot…cut　jeans　that　hugged　her　hips；　paired　with　a　long…sleeve　flowy
  white　peasant　blouse。　A　pair　of　flip…flops　I’d　never　seen
  before—brown　leather　straps　with　turquoise　beads—pleted　the　look。
  She　was　even　wearing　makeup；　and　her　curls　looked　as　though　th