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The weather didn’t match her mood. She supposed she was lucky in that respect because the only way this day could be any worse would be if she had to do this in the rain.
As it was, the day began two hours earlier at the ungodly hour of five in the morning. She had been sleeping peacefully, or at least as peacefully as she was capable of, when the door to her bedroom had opened and two little monsters had rushed inside.
“Tomorrow, Mama! Christmas is tomorrow!”
“Caroline? Cassidy? What time is it?” She fumbled around to find her cell phone and looked at it with bleary eyes.
“Who cares what time it is? It’s Christmas Eve!”
She could hear the excitement in her daughter’s voice, and if it weren’t for the happy shrieking in her ears at... she glanced at her phone once more… five in the morning, she might have had a chance at falling back asleep.
“Come on Mama! How can you be asleep at a time like this?”
A time like this? What time was she supposed to sleep, exactly, if not at a time like this?
“All right, Bobbseys, all right. I’m getting up.”
The girls cheered as she cursed inwardly. Any other day, she would have ordered them back to bed, but not today. She was likely not going to make their Christmas wish come true and so she had to make sure every moment of the holiday was perfect. Besides, she had to admit that it was nice to see them excited again. Even if that meant getting up at five in the morning on one of the few days of the year she did not have to go to work.
And she had. It was two hours later now, and this was her last hope. She had spent all day yesterday searching for the perfect gift to make up for how badly she had failed them and had come up short. Today was her last chance to make things right.
She stopped in front of a store she had never seen before. It was on the corner of Fifth and Madison; an area with which she was normally intimately familiar. She was certain the shop hadn’t been there the last time she had walked Fifth. Admittedly, though, that had been a while ago. She had paid her dues in her industry and now she had assistants to pound the pavement for her.
There were plenty of perks of being the Editor-in-Chief of Runway magazine, and the luxury to sit with her eyes closed in the back of a black Lincoln Town Car was one of her favorites.
Oddly, though, this shop didn’t remotely resemble anything new or modern. The worn, painted sign looked dangerously close to falling off its chain. The letters were so faded she had to pull her glasses out to see it.
Andy’s Custom Toys
It was certainly a far cry from FAO Schwarz and the other expensive New York toy shops she had visited the last few days. It was a task that she would normally give to one of her assistants, but this year the gifts had to be perfect.
She had spent thousands on expensive games and electronics that she was certain her girls would love, but she had still come up short on coming up with that one perfect gift. The one that would make her girls smile again after all they had been through over the last few months.
Perhaps this Andy, whomever he was, could help her out. The toys in the display were certainly unique, and she found herself imagining a kindly older man hunched over a worktable in the back of his shop.
A modern-day Santa Claus.
She allowed herself a ghost of a smile; a gesture that felt safe only because there was no one around to see it and pushed the door open. The bells at the top of the entrance jingled merrily as she entered, and though the lighting was dim, she could still enjoy the pleasant atmosphere in the cozy shop.
“Be right there!”
The voice was female, and Miranda found herself oddly disappointed. She supposed Andy was hard at work in the back of the shop, but she did not normally deal with assistants. She was Miranda Priestly, after all. People typically fell over themselves trying to please her.
“Got your eye on anything in particular?”
She turned around to see a woman in her twenties grinning at her. By all accounts, she was unremarkable. Just a woman, like thousands of others in the city. Certainly nothing compared to the models she was surrounded by every day at work. Still, there was something about the twinkle in her eye that made her unable to look away.
“I am looking for a present for my daughters,” she explained. The woman nodded in understanding.
“You’ve come to the right place,” she said. “We have toys unlike any you’ll find anywhere else. Every one of them is custom designed and created. I’m Andy.”
This was Andy? The image of a kindly old man vanished from her mind as she looked at the woman with new respect. Few knew of her admiration for people that created things with their hands. She herself had an artistic eye that was unparalleled, but she couldn’t actually make anything. Genuine artists were rare; she knew that better than anyone.
She looked at the woman with fresh eyes, suddenly unable to imagine that she had thought her plain just a few moments earlier. Her hands, in particular, caught her eye. The fingers were long and slender, but that wasn’t what captured her interest. They were covered in paint.
Andy followed her gaze and chuckled self-consciously. “You caught me in the middle of a project.”
She nodded in understanding. “My apologies.”
“No worries. It doesn’t need to be shipped out until February. I was just getting an early start. I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“Miranda Priestly.”
She waited to see the usual recognition that dawned in people’s eyes when they heard her name and connected it to the face they often saw in the tabloids. Andy’s eyes remained clear, and she wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or relieved that the sparkle in them didn’t fade a bit.
“Nice to meet you, Miranda. So, what did you have in mind for your girls? Or would you prefer to wander around and see what we’ve got?”
She shook her head. “No, this needs to be special. I want something custom-made.”
Andy shrugged in response. “Fair enough. How old are your daughters?”
“Six.” She barely stopped the smile, that speaking of the twins always brought forth, from showing on her face.
“Do they like dolls?”
“Don’t most little girls?” she retorted. It was a rather disappointing question, and she didn’t bother keeping her expression from displaying her feelings. “I had hoped for something a bit more personal, though.”
Andy shrugged again. “I can make these dolls as personal as they get,” she answered. “Got a recent picture?”
She pulled out her phone and swiped through it to find the picture of them on their most recent birthday. It had been the last time she had seen them truly happy and just seeing it brought an ache she wasn’t prepared to deal with.
She handed the phone over and watched Andy study the picture. “Cute kids,” she commented. Miranda nodded her thanks as Andy inspected the photo more closely. “I can make dolls that look exactly like them. What are they into?”
“Caroline is quite the accomplished amateur photographer for her age,” she answered proudly. “And Cassidy…” A pang struck her as she sighed quietly. “Cassidy loves animals.”
“Got it.” The woman’s curious gaze shifted from the phone in her hand to Miranda’s face at the sudden change in her tone. She knew her face was normally unreadable but there didn’t seem to be any way to hide from this woman’s frank study of her.
She could feel her face color under the scrutiny. It seemed impossible, but suddenly she was sure this stranger understood her better than anyone she had dealt with in years. “Perhaps you would be willing to tell me what this is going to cost Andrea?”
“Andrea?” the woman laughed. “No one calls me that. It’s Andy.”
Privately, she thought it suited her, but pride made her sniff and repeat, “Andrea, if you don’t mind, it is Christmas Eve and I would like to complete this transaction.”
“Right, sure.” She rolled her eyes a little. “I won’t lie to you. It’s not going to be cheap. I use only the best materials and I do all the work myself.”
“Money is no object. Name your price.”
“Well, it depends on the type of wood you want me to use. I recommend cedar, but we can use oak, or even pine, if you want to go a little cheaper. I’ll figure out the cost of the materials in a minute and come up with a firm price for you. But first, tell me when the girls’ birthday is.”
She frowned, confused. “The girls… birthday?” she inquired slowly.
“Yeah, when do you need it? I normally ask for three months but I can do it sooner if you need me to. I will have to turn down other projects to do that, though, so it will have to get factored into the final cost,” she explained.
.Miranda blinked in surprise. “You misunderstand me. I wish to give the girls the gifts for Christmas.”
There was dead silence for a moment and then a bark of laughter. “This Christmas? Lady, are you out of your mind? It’s Christmas Eve.”
To her horror, she felt herself blush again, feeling slightly foolish and out of place. Which was ridiculous, of course. She was Miranda Priestly. She wasn’t out of place anywhere.
“As I said, money is no object. I am willing to pay double or even triple to have it done by tonight.” Irritated by the unexpected obstacle, she fixed the toy maker with her best icy glare. Who did this woman think she was, making her feel inferior?
“There isn’t enough money in the world. It’s just not possible.”
Miranda paused, unsure of what to say next. The most powerful tools in her arsenal, intimidation and money, seemed to be getting her nowhere. It had been so long since she had been left feeling so helpless and she could feel herself grow desperate. Another minute and she would be begging. This was absolutely absurd.
Andy sighed. “Look,” she said, a bit more kindly in the face of the desperation in Miranda’s expression. “Why don’t you commission the dolls for their birthday and have a look around the shop for something else for Christmas? Or if you prefer, I can recommend some lesser-known toy shops? I’m guessing you’ve already hit all the hot spots.”
She shook her head, surprised at how disappointed she was. “Never mind,” she said, already heading for the door. “I am certain I can find someone that can accommodate what I am looking for.”
“You’re not exactly in a position to order people around, so I would probably lose the attitude,” Andy said cheerfully. Miranda stopped in her tracks and took a deep breath, calling on patience she normally did not have.
“Are you certain there is nothing I can do to change your mind?” she asked. She winced inwardly at the weakness on display in her voice, but it couldn’t be helped. Now that she had seen Andy’s work, she wanted nothing more than to give her daughters these creations the following morning.
Andy stepped out from behind the counter and walked over to the door. She looked at Miranda’s face closely for a long moment as Miranda tried hard to stay perfectly still and not let her discomfort show. She honestly couldn’t remember the last time someone had dared to look her in the eyes for more than a few seconds, and she suddenly remembered how much she hated it.
“Is there something I can help you with, Andrea?” she asked when she could bear the silence no longer. Andy shook her head and kept her gaze fixed on Miranda’s face. She appeared to be searching for something, but what it was, Miranda did not have a clue.
“All right,” she said at last. “How about this? I’ll make the dolls, but it will probably take me all day and most of the night. I will have to spend the whole day in my workshop in the back, so you have to stay here and watch the store.”
“You want me to work retail?” The idea seemed ludicrous.
Andy shrugged. “That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.” Miranda waited a beat too long and Andy walked back to the counter. “Have it your way.”
“Wait.” Andy stopped walking and turned back around. “All right. We have a deal. I will just need to phone my nanny and make sure she can stay late. Until what time do you need me to stay?”
“The shop is open until six. I won’t be done by then, but you can leave once we are closed. I’ll deliver the dolls later tonight.”
She nodded and removed her phone from her pocket once more. Andy spoke up just as she stepped away to dial Cara’s number. “I hope these dolls are worth it, Miranda, because you’re probably going to have to mortgage your home to afford them.”
Miranda chuckled just before she heard Cara pick up the phone. “I sincerely doubt it, Andrea.”
—--------------------------------------------------------------
By midday, Miranda could deny it no longer. Only two customers had shown up since Andrea had disappeared into her workroom in the back of the shop. Both of them had taken a quick look around the shop before leaving without buying anything. Damn peasants didn’t know quality when they saw it, clearly.
It didn’t really matter, though. She was bored and anyone who knew her knew that when she was bored, she became a bit anal-retentive.
All right, perhaps more than a bit.
That was likely the reason she was staring at the smudged glass display case with something akin to disgust. The case was meant to hold the more expensive items in the shop, but nothing about it enticed people to come over and take a look. It defied logic that something designed to sell should look so unappealing. Telling herself it was not her problem; she took her seat once more on the torn stool behind the register and pulled her phone out to check her email.
It took about five minutes to realize she did not remember a single word she had read. Giving up with a sigh, she searched behind the counter for a rag and some glass cleaner.
A few hard scrubs had the display case gleaming, but now Miranda had a new problem. The haphazard way that the toys were displayed was now fully visible, and there was no way to ignore it. She rolled her eyes and arranged them into an appealing design, with the most elaborate toys right in front where they would get the most attention.
Satisfied with her efforts, she tried to return her attention to the phone in her hand, but now she couldn’t help but look at the wooden shelves around the shop. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to the way they were placed, and each was stuffed to the brim with toys. It was impossible to even see what merchandise Andrea had to sell.
“How does this girl make a living?” she muttered. Instantly, she regretted her slip of the tongue. Andrea was no girl. She might be younger than Miranda by far more years than she cared to admit to, but she was clearly a woman, through and through. Whether that made her seemingly lackadaisical approach to her career more whimsical or frustrating, Miranda couldn’t figure out.
Groaning slightly under her breath, she stalked over to the shelves and began to pull toys off them, sorting them into piles as she worked. An hour later, they were all arranged on the shelves in a way that they could all be seen.
‘There,’ she thought, satisfied with her work. Now, perhaps she could concentrate on her actual job. Before she could return to the counter, though, she heard Andrea behind her.
“Wow.”
Miranda whirled around, panicking slightly as it occurred to her, for the first time, that she really didn’t have the right to rearrange the store the way she had. She wasn’t used to having her methods questioned. Thankfully, the toy maker did not look upset. In fact, she looked impressed.
“The place looks great, Miranda. You didn’t have to do that.”
Taken aback by the sheer admiration in her voice, she shrugged. “It wasn’t difficult, and I needed something to occupy the time.”
“Yeah, I don’t usually get many customers on Christmas Eve. Last week, this place was a zoo, but most people are done with their shopping by now.”
“Why do you open, then?”
Andy shrugged. “There’s always one or two that panic at the last minute. If I’m not here for them, who will be?”
“People like me, you mean.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Perhaps not, but you were thinking it..”
Andy laughed. “Yeah, I guess I was. Honestly, though, Miranda, you don’t seem the type to leave things for the last minute.”
“I’m not, usually. And I didn’t this time either.”
Andy raised an eyebrow, apparently looking for more information, but Miranda wasn’t sure what to say. This Christmas was different from most others. The bulk of her shopping had been done for a while, but the recent upheaval in the girls’ lives had left her scrambling to find something that would make them forget all about the past few weeks.
“May I ask you a question?” she said, determined to change the subject.
Andy nodded. “Sure.”
“How long have you owned this shop?”
“About six years. Why?”
She hesitated slightly before answering. “It is just that I work not far from here and my home is a few blocks away,” she explained. “I don’t remember ever seeing it before.”
“Yeah, I know where you work,” Andy laughed.
“You do?”
Andy looked at her closely. “You really don’t remember me, do you?”
What?
“Should I?” she asked cautiously. She met a lot of people in her line of work, but she was certain she would remember if she had seen this woman before. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but there was something about her that rendered her truly unforgettable.
“I interviewed with you when I first came to New York. I applied to become your assistant.”
She was hit suddenly with the memory of a recent college graduate stumbling into her office and stammering her way through a short interview. She was hopelessly inappropriate for the position of her assistant, but there had been something about her that Miranda had found incredibly intriguing.
“You wanted to be a journalist,” she recalled.
“Yep. Do you remember what you said to me?”
“I urge you to take stock of what it is that you truly wish to do with your life, Andrea. You have what it takes to go far, but it won’t matter unless you are really invested.”
Over the years, she had interviewed hundreds of young women, and most of them were all wrong to work for her. Usually, she dismissed them from her presence without a single thought, but something about that particular applicant had made her want to see her succeed. To this day, she could not articulate what had made her decide to try to impart some wisdom on her instead of simply ignoring her as she did with so many others, and after spending weeks trying to figure it out, she had put the incident out of her mind.
“What happened after you left my office?”
“I got a job as a copy editor with an independent magazine. It came with the option of submitting articles for publication, but as it turns out, I hated it.”
“Copy editing can be rather mundane,” she agreed.
“No, that wasn’t it. I didn’t mind paying my dues. It’s just that after a few months, I realized that even when I was writing, I wasn’t really happy. I spent so long dreaming about being a writer that I never considered there might be other possibilities.”
“Is that how you came to open the shop?”
Andy shrugged. “I thought about what you said, and I realized I am happiest when I am creating things. Besides, I like toys.”
Miranda’s eyes widened at that and given the blush that suddenly painted the younger woman’s cheeks, it was evident that she had heard the words just a split second too late to stop herself from saying them. She cleared her throat, glancing down to give Andy a moment to recover.
“Why did you pretend not to know who I was?”
Andy smiled at her gratefully. “I was about to say something when you walked in, and then I realized you had no idea who I was. It felt strange to remind you. But I definitely remembered you. I always hoped to get the chance to thank you someday.”
She shifted, feeling a bit uncomfortable with the situation. A few words of advice hardly warranted the look of naked gratitude in Andy’s eyes, did they? It wasn’t as though she had given them much thought. They had just slipped out without her permission.
“Is that why you agreed to make the dolls for me?” she asked, when she discovered she couldn’t think of anything else to say. She honestly couldn’t remember the last time she had felt this tongue-tied. What was it about this woman that made her so completely incapable of forming coherent thoughts?
“I guess. Speaking of which…” Andy stretched and cracked her back. Miranda tried to tear her eyes away from the way her shirt rode up slightly, revealing smooth, milky white skin, and quickly glanced away again when she saw Andy had caught her staring. “I better get back to it. Those dolls are not going to make themselves.
Miranda nodded mutely, not trusting in her ability to speak. Andy hesitated at the doorway to her workshop, turning around once more. “Do you want to join me? See how I make them?”
She forced herself to look up again. “Don’t you need me to stay here and watch the store?”
“We can leave the door to the workroom open, so we hear customers come in. It’s been pretty quiet.”
Trying not to let the eagerness show on her face, Miranda stood up from her stool and followed Andy back to her work area. It was cluttered, which she supposed was to be expected, but it didn’t take long for to see the system in the seemingly random piles of materials. Though disorganization normally gave her a headache, it was impossible not to find this corner of Andy’s life incredibly appealing.
She pulled up a chair and watched Andy work for a while, inexplicably fascinated by the way the younger woman focused on the task in front of her. Her entire being seemed engaged in what she was doing, but what truly captured Miranda’s interest was her hands. They worked swiftly and decisively, never hesitating for a moment.
What would it feel like to have those hands on her body, feeling their way around in the same way Andy was handling the wooden dolls right now? She turned red at the thought, unable to understand where it was coming from. She was certain she had never felt that way before.
Oblivious to Miranda’s silent struggle, Andy glanced up and flashed her a quick smile. “In the interest of full disclosure, I should probably tell you that I didn’t decide to make the dolls for you out of gratitude.”
“Oh? Why did you then?”
Andy put down the tools she was holding and gave Miranda her full attention. “You looked sad when you came in here. Not something I ever thought I would see.”
“Ah.” She glanced away, not really sure of what to say. “If you found that surprising, I suppose it is safe to assume you don’t read the tabloids.”
“Not usually, no. I did see the story in Star magazine yesterday, though. I’m sorry.”
She scoffed, annoyed. “Why are you apologizing?”
Andy shrugged and didn’t answer the question. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, returning her attention to the doll in her hand.
“What is there to talk about? He’s gone, and that isn’t changing.”
“Your husband.”
“Ex-husband,” she corrected. Thank goodness for high-priced lawyers that knew how to rush a divorce through the court system in a matter of weeks. “Another Mr. Priestly bites the dust.”
Andy chuckled. “He sounds like an ass,” she offered. Miranda barked out a short laugh at that.
“Oh, I assure you. He is.”
Silence descended between them as Andy resumed her work once more. Her tongue poked out of the corner of her mouth as she concentrated on carving the face of the doll she was holding so that it looked exactly like the twins. The silence felt comfortable, somehow, and it gave Miranda the courage to speak again.
“It wasn’t the divorce that had me seeking out this store, really. It was the ensuing custody battle.”
“Custody battle?” Andy looked rightfully confused. “He isn’t the twins’ father, right?”
“Not custody of the girls,” she explained. “Custody over our dog, Patricia.”
Andy set down the carving tool she was holding and stood up. To Miranda’s surprise, she looked furious. “What?” she asked. Her eyes were blazing, and it warmed Miranda to see the outrage.
“He bought her for the girls ’fifth birthday last year. It was a gift for them, but he bought the dog in his own name and took her with him when he left.”
The fury in Andy’s eyes grew. “There was no way to get her back?”
“My lawyers tried everything, but there was nothing to be done. He had proof of payment and Patricia was registered in his name.” Andy nodded in understanding. “She was… is… a member of our family, but I know he doesn’t care about her at all.”
“He did it to hurt you.”
He had, and it had worked. The week before, she had stumbled upon the letter the girls had written to Santa. To her surprise, none of the expensive toys she had heard them talking about all year were mentioned. Instead, they had asked just for Patricia to come home.
In six years as a parent, she had never before faced something her girls needed that she couldn’t provide. Reading the letter made her feel like a complete failure.
“I was wrong. He’s not an ass. He’s a miserable, low-life, disgusting excuse for a human being.”
She couldn’t help the snort of laughter that escaped her. Andy grinned at her, and she felt herself relax a bit for the first time since finding the letter.
“So, another full disclosure moment?” Andy asked.
Miranda nodded, tensing a bit, although she wasn’t sure why. “All right,” she said cautiously.
“I didn’t agree to make the dolls because of when we met in your office six years ago, but there is something I have been wanting to do ever since then.”
Confused by the sudden change in her expression, Miranda found herself standing up and taking an automatic step backwards when Andy put down her tools and stood up as well, walking forward to close the distance between them.
“What’s that?” she asked. All traces of humor gone from her expression; Andy took another step forward.
“This,” she said. Before Miranda could process what she meant, Andy leaned forward and gently kissed her lips.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------
The knock on the door came early in the morning. Her determination to have the dolls in time for Christmas aside, she would have understood if it simply wasn’t possible.
It was barely past five in the morning, but Miranda was wide awake. How could she not be, after all that had transpired the day before? She could still feel the tingle where Andy had gently pressed her lips to her own. She walked towards the door, unconsciously running a finger over her lips.
What was it about a simple kiss that had kept her awake all night? It had been so gentle and so tiny, quick enough to chalk it up to the gratitude Andy said she felt, should she be so inclined. She couldn’t, though. Not after she had seen the way Andy’s eyes had shimmered with heat when she had pulled away.
Moments after the kiss, before Miranda could even begin to think of what to say in response, Andy had suggested she return home to spend the rest of Christmas Eve with her children. She had seized the opportunity to take some distance and escaped gratefully, already knowing she was in for a night of torment as she tried to decipher how she could be reacting so strongly to something so small.
“Good morning, Andrea,” she said, when the door opened to reveal the woman that had dominated her every thought for the past thirteen hours.
“Still on that Andrea thing, huh?” Andy laughed. “Good morning, Miranda. Merry Christmas.”
“Your name is far too elegant for ridiculous nicknames,” she protested. She didn’t bother to add that she had been referring to her as “Andy” in her thoughts since the day before. She should question this absurd level of stubbornness she had been cursed with.
“Right,” Andy agreed, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, the dolls are done, and I just wanted to drop them off before the girls woke up so that you could put them under the tree for them to find.”
Miranda suddenly noticed that her frame filled the doorway, preventing Andy from entering. She took a step back and opened the door wider. “Come inside,” she invited.
“No, that’s ok. I’m sure you want to spend Christmas morning with the girls. I’ll get out of your way.”
“You are not in the way, Andrea. The girls will be asleep for a while yet.” Hopefully, anyway. “You have been up all night and you must be exhausted. Let me get you some coffee.”
Andy looked unsure of how to respond, and Miranda took advantage of her indecision, gently ushering the younger woman inside and closing the door behind her before she could protest further.
Miranda led her guest to the living room and invited her to sit down while she went to start the coffee. When she returned from the kitchen, Andy was perched on the edge of the sofa, looking like she wanted to run for her life.
“You have a really nice home,” Andy said as Miranda sat beside her.
“Thank you,” Miranda replied easily.
“You have an artist’s eye. I noticed it yesterday when you rearranged my shop.”
Miranda colored a little. “I apologize for that. I should have discussed it with you first.”
“Yeah, maybe, but you did a really good job. You have a really good eye for layout.”
She couldn’t help but laugh at how many times she heard that in her daily life. She normally dismissed it as simple flattery designed to get in her good graces, but somehow, from Andy, it felt different. It felt good.
“Thank you,” she replied simply.
Andy smiled at her in response, then cleared her throat, looking very uncomfortable. “There is something I wanted to talk to you about.”
She wondered if Andy was about to bring up the kiss, suddenly terrified that she would apologize or act as though she regretted it. Instead, Andy shifted in discomfort, looking down. “It’s…. uh…. it’s about payment for the dolls.”
Miranda frowned in confusion. “I put a check under the cash register for you. Did you not receive it?”
“No, I did. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I know I said you would have to take out a second mortgage to pay for the dolls, but you know I was kidding, right? That was way too much.”
Miranda waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Really, Miranda, I couldn’t possibly take that much. Let me pay you back.”
“I won’t hear of it, Andrea. You earned every penny of that. Besides, I wasn’t just paying for the dolls.”
“You weren’t?”
“No.” She shook her head decisively. “It was for your kindness, as well as for the pleasure of your company. I can’t remember…” Her voice trailed off and Andy’s eyes shot up to meet hers.
“You can’t remember what?”
“I can’t remember when I’ve enjoyed an afternoon more,” she revealed.
Andy grinned at her. “The kindness and company were free, Miranda. I had a good time, too.”
Miranda smiled back, leaning forward enough to make her intentions clear, while still maintaining enough distance to hold on to some of her dignity, should Andy not respond in kind. She needn’t have worried, though. Andy leaned forward eagerly and captured Miranda’s lips in another kiss.
This time, Miranda allowed her lips to part, inviting Andy’s tongue inside. Andy was the first woman she had ever kissed, and while she hadn’t really known what to expect, she certainly didn’t anticipate the way her entire body seemed to come alive in the moment. Andy’s tongue tangled with her own, one hand drifting down and skimming Miranda’s side before landing on her waist.
Her skin flushed with arousal, and if she weren’t so lost in the moment, she might have been embarrassed by how eagerly she was responding to a simple kiss.
All three of her ex-husbands had thrown ugly words in her face at her sexual performance. Cold, they used to say, both to her face and in the tabloids. Prudish. Stiff.
She had never argued, because it was hard not to feel that way when her body simply refused to cooperate with their attempts to arouse her. How could she not have seen that she had been none of those things, she had simply been waiting for this?
For lips that felt soft, instead of cold.
For hands that felt gentle, instead of rough.
She pulled back when she heard noises on the stairs. The girls were waking up and in a matter of seconds, they would burst into the room. She took a moment to recover and to try to steady her breathing.
Andy looked as though she was trying to gather herself as well. A moment later, the girls burst into the room and Miranda couldn’t help but smile at the sight of them with sleep-mussed hair and wrinkled Christmas pajamas.
“Mama! Mama! It’s Christmas,” Caroline yelled, running over to the sofa. She skidded to a stop in front of it, staring at Andy. “Who are you?”
“Girls, this is Andy,” Miranda said, standing up to kiss them.
“What are you doing here?” Caroline demanded.
“Don’t be mean, Caro,” Cassidy said. “Hi. I’m Cassidy.”
“I know,” Andy said solemnly.
“You do? How?”
“Come sit by me and I’ll tell you,” Andy invited, patting the sofa next to her. Miranda watched her daughters sit on either side of her, her heart melting at the way they watched her with wide eyes.
“As it so happens, I am here on a special mission,” Andy continued. “From the big man himself.”
“The big man?” Cassidy asked.
“Yeah. You know, Santa Claus. He asked me to make sure you get these.” She indicated the white boxes she had set on the coffee table in front her.
“Why did he ask you?” Caroline asked rudely.
“Because I am one of his specially contracted toy makers, of course.”
“The elves make the toys,” Caroline shot back. “Don’t you know anything?”
Andy smothered a grin and shot a glance over at Cassidy who was listening quietly without contributing to the conversation. “Normally, yeah. But I guess you didn’t hear about the labor dispute.”
“What’s that?”
“Oh, it was a whole thing. The elves said that the job was too big, and they weren’t going to finish the toys without getting some help, so Santa had to contract out with some human toy makers."
“Oooh,” Caroline said. “And you were one of the people he con-con-“
“Contracted,” Miranda supplied smoothly.
“Yep,” Andy said. “Only I got started later than I meant to, and I missed the cut off time to get the gifts into the sleigh before Santa started his rounds last night. So, I promised him I would deliver them personally when I got done.”
“Santa isn’t real.”
Cassidy’s voice was so quiet that Andy almost didn’t hear it. Instantly, she turned to her. “What makes you say that?”
“I wrote him a letter, and he never answered. I only wanted one thing for Christmas, and I didn’t get it.”
Miranda felt her heart break in two, but before she could think of what to say, Andy hurried on. “You might change your mind about that if you agree to walk outside with me.”
Miranda opened her mouth to protest that a walk should wait until after breakfast, but Andy cut her off. “Just to the side of the house,” she murmured.
The girls ran to the top of the staircase. “Hurry up, Mama,” Caroline said impatiently, thundering down the steps to fling the door open.
“All right, Bobbseys. I’m coming.” She turned to stare at Andy curiously. What had the younger woman done?
The moment they stepped out of the door and walked to the side of the house, the answer became clear. Lying on the ground, tied to a tree, was Patricia, happily gnawing on a bone. The dog jumped up when she saw them and ran to the girls, licking Cassidy’s face as she buried it in her fur.
“You’re home! You’re home!” There were tears dripping down her face and Patricia licked them off, barking happily. “Look Mama! Santa answered my letter!”
“I see,” Miranda said, blinking back tears of her own. “You must have been a very good girl this year.”
After a few minutes of excited barking and running around, Miranda ushered them back inside. “Girls, take Patricia upstairs to play for a while so that I can fix breakfast.”
They were on the stairs before she even finished the sentence. When they were out of earshot, she turned to Andy. “How did you accomplish this?”
Andy shrugged. “Turns out you were right. Your ex has no interest in her. He was just being a vindictive asshole.”
“Yes, that sounds about right.”
“He gave her to his new girlfriend, who has even less interest in owning a dog than he does. Now that she knows how much work they are, it was pretty easy to convince her to sell her to me.”
“It must have cost you a fortune.”
“Yeah, well, I seem to have come into some unexpected cash,” Andy laughed.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Hey,” Andy replied, lifting Miranda’s chin with a finger so she could kiss her lips softly. “You don’t have to say anything. I was happy to do it.”
“I can’t thank you enough, Andrea. This means the world to the girls. And to me.”
“You can thank me by going out with me.”
Miranda blinked, startled. She wasn’t really one for dating. In her past relationships, she had married quickly and, as it turned out, had been stuck in marriages to virtual strangers. “You…want to take me out?” she questioned, just to be sure.
“I really, really do. Someplace private, with no paparazzi and no distractions. Just us.” She grinned at the stunned look on Miranda’s face. “I’ll call you after the new year to set it up. Merry Christmas, Miranda.”
She turned to leave, but Miranda stopped her at the door. “Andrea?”
“Yes?”
“Would you like to stay and watch the girls open their gifts? Perhaps even stay for Christmas dinner?”
Andy shut the door and kissed Miranda once more. “I’ll stay for as long as you’ll have me.”