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第27部分

时尚女魔头 穿普拉达的恶魔 英文原版-第27部分


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  few weeks—that I play along。 It seems he had a never…ending supply 
  of annoying tunes that he loved to sing; and he wouldn’t let me 
  through the turnstiles until I acted them out。 The day before was 
  “I’m Too Sexy。” As he sang;“I’m too sexy for Milan; too sexy for 
  Milan; New York and Japan;” I had to walk down the lobby’s imaginary 
  runway。 It could be fun when I was in a decent mood。 Sometimes it 
  even made me smile。 But it was my very first day with Miranda; and I 
  couldn’t be late getting her things set up; I just couldn’t。 I 
  wanted tohurt him for holding me up as everyone else breezed past 
  the security desk in the turnstiles on each side of me。

  “If they don’t give me proper credit; I just walk away…ay;”I 
  muttered; allowing the words to stretch and fade; just like Madonna。

  He raised his eyebrows。 “Where’s the enthusiasm; girlfriend?”

  I thought I’d do something violent if I heard his voice again; so I 
  dropped my bag of papers on the counter; threw both arms up in the 
  air and thrust my hips to the left; while pursing my lips into a 
  dramatic pout。“A material! A material! A material! A material 。 。 。 
  WORLD!” I all but screamed; and he cackled and clapped andwhoosh ! 
  He buzzed me through。

  Mental note: Discuss with Eduardo when and where it is appropriate 
  to make a plete ass of me。Once again; I dove onto the elevators 
  and raced past Sophy; who kindly opened the doors to the floor 
  without my even asking。 I even remembered to stop in one of the 
  minikitchens and put some ice in one of the Baccarat goblets we kept 
  in a special cabinet over the microwave just for Miranda。 Glass in 
  one hand; newspapers in another; I peeled around the corner and 
  smashed directly into Jessica; a。k。a。 Manicure Girl。 She looked both 
  annoyed and panic…stricken。

  “Andrea; are you aware that Miranda is on her way to the office?” 
  she asked; looking me up and down。

  “Sure am。 I’ve got her newspapers right here and her water right 
  here; and now I just need to get them back to her office。 If you’ll 
  excuse me 。 。 。”

  “Andrea!” she called as I ran past her; an ice cube flying out of 
  the glass and landing outside the art department。 “Remember to 
  change your shoes!”

  I stopped dead in my tracks and looked down。 I was wearing a pair of 
  funky street sneakers; the kind that weren’t designed to do anything 
  but look cool。 The rules of dress—unspoken and otherwise—were 
  obviously relaxed when Miranda was away; and even though every 
  single person in the office looked fantastic; each was wearing 
  something they would swear up and down that they’d never; ever wear 
  in front of Miranda。 My bright red; mesh sneakers were a prime 
  example。

  I had broken a sweat by the time I made it back to our suite。 “I’ve 
  got all the papers and I bought the magazines; too; just in case。 
  The only thing is; I don’t think I can wear these shoes; can I?”

  Emily tore the headset from her ear and flung it down on her desk。 
  “No; of course you can’t wear those。” She picked up the phone; 
  dialed four digits; and announced; “Jeffy; bring me a pair of 
  Jimmy’s in a size 。 。 。” She looked at me。

  “Nine and a half。” I pulled a small bottle of Pellegrino out of the 
  closet and filled the glass。

  “Nine and a half。 No; now。 No; Jeff; I’m serious。 Right now。 Andrea 
  is wearingsneakers for chrissake;red sneakers; and She’s going to be 
  here any minute。 OK; thanks。”

  It was then I noticed that in the four minutes I’d been downstairs; 
  Emily had managed to switch her faded jeans to leather pants and her 
  own funky sneakers to open…toe stilettos。 She’d also cleaned up the 
  entire office suite; sweeping the contents of both our desks into 
  drawers and stashing all of the ining gifts that hadn’t yet been 
  transferred to Miranda’s apartment in the closet。 She had slicked on 
  a fresh coat of lip gloss and added some color to her cheeks and was 
  presently motioning for me to get moving。

  I grabbed the bag of newspapers and shook them out in a pile on the 
  lightbox in her office; a sort of underlit table where Emily said 
  Miranda would stand for hours on end and examine film that had e 
  in from photo shoots。 But it was also where she liked her papers 
  arranged; and once again; I consulted my legal pad for the correct 
  order。 First; theNew York Times; followed by theWall Street Journal; 
  and then theWashington Post 。 And on and on the order went in a 
  pattern I couldn’t distinguish; each placed slightly on top of the 
  one before it until they fanned out across the table in 
  formation。Women’s Wear Daily was the single exception: this was to 
  be placed in the middle of her desk。

  “She’s here! Andrea; e out here! She’s on her way up;” I heard 
  Emily hiss from the outer area。 “Uri just called to tell me he just 
  dropped her off。”

  I putWWD on her desk; placed the Pellegrino on a corner of her desk 
  on a linen napkin (which side? I couldn’t remember which side it was 
  supposed to go on); and darted from the office; taking one last look 
  around to ensure that everything was in order。 Jeffy; one of the 
  fashion assistants who helped organize the fashion closet; tossed me 
  a shoe box with a rubber band around it and bolted。 I pulled it open 
  immediately。 Inside were a pair of Jimmy Choo heels with straps made 
  of camel hair going every which way and buckles nestled in the 
  middle of it all; probably worth around eight hundred dollars。 Shit! 
  I had to get these on。 I yanked off my sneakers and my now sweaty 
  socks and tossed them under my desk。 The right one went on rather 
  easily; but I couldn’t work my stubby fingernail to free the buckle 
  on the left one until—there! I pried it open and thrust my left foot 
  into it; watching the straps bite into the already swollen flesh。 In 
  another few seconds I had it buckled and was returning to an upright 
  sitting position just as Miranda walked in。

  Frozen。 I was absolutely frozen in midmotion; my mind working fast 
  enough to understand how ridiculous I must look; but not quite fast 
  enough to move。 She noticed me immediately; probably because she was 
  expecting Emily to still be sitting at her old desk; and walked 
  over。 She leaned on the counter that ran over my desk; leaned over 
  it and even closer to me; until she was able to see my entire body 
  as I sat; immobilized; in the chair。 Her bright blue eyes moved up 
  and down; side to side; all over my white button…down; my red 
  corduroy Gap miniskirt; my now buckled camel…hair Jimmy Choo 
  sandals。 I felt her examine every inch of me; skin and hair and 
  clothes; her eyes moving so quickly but her face remaining frozen。 
  She leaned closer still; until her face was only a foot from mine 
  and I could smell the fantastic aroma of salon shampoo and expensive 
  perfume; so close that I could see the very fine lines around her 
  mouth and eyes that were invisible from a more fortable distance。 
  But I couldn’t look too long at her face; because she was intently 
  examining mine。 There wasn’t the slightest indication that she 
  recognized that a) we had; in fact; met before; b) I was her new 
  employee; or c) I was not Emily。

  “Hello; Ms。 Priestly;” I squeaked impulsively; even though somewhere 
  in the back of my head I knew that she hadn’t uttered a word yet。 
  But the tension was unbearable; and I couldn’t help but barrel 
  forward。 “I’m so excited to be working for you。 Thank you so much 
  for the opportunity to 。 。 。”Shut up! Just shut your stupid mouth! 
  Talk about no dignity。

  She walked away。 Finished looking me up and down; pushed backward 
  off the counter; and just walked away while I was stuttering 
  mid…sentence。 I could feel heat ing off my face; a flush of 
  confusion and pain and humiliation all wrapped into one; and it 
  didn’t help that I could feel Emily glaring at me。 I pulled my hot 
  face upward and confirmed that Emily was indeed glaring at me。

  “Is the Bulletin updated?” Miranda asked to no one in particular as 
  she walked into her office and; I noticed happily; directly to the 
  light table where I’d arranged her papers。

  “Yes; Miranda。 Here it is;” Emily said obsequiously; racing in 
  behind her and handing her the clipboard where we kept all of 
  Miranda’s messages typed as they e in。

  I sat quietly; watching Miranda move deliberately around her office 
  in the picture frames that hung on her wall: if I looked at the 
  glass instead of at the photos themselves; I could see her 
  reflection。 Emily immediately busied herself at her desk; and 
  silence prevailed。Do we never get to talk to each other or anyone 
  else if she’s in the office? I wondered。 I

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