potentially life…threatening； you were well enough to work
atRunway 。 So when Emily finished hacking and reiterated that
she was really ill； I didn’t even consider the possibility
that she wouldn’t be at work on Monday。 After all； she was
scheduled to fly to Paris to meet Miranda on October 18 and
that was only slightly more than a week away。 And besides； I’d
managed to ignore a couple strep throats； a few bouts of
bronchitis； a horrific round of food poisoning； and a
perpetual smoker’s cough and cold and hadn’t taken a single
sick day in nearly a year of work。
I’d sneaked in a single doctor’s appointment when I was
desperate for antibiotics with one of the cases of strep
throat （I ducked into his office and ordered them to see me
right away when Miranda and Emily thought that I was out
scouting for new cars for Mr。 Tomlinson）； but there was never
time for preventative work。 Although I’d had a dozen sets of
highlights from Marshall； quite a few free massages from spas
that felt honored to have Miranda’s assistant as a guest； and
countless manicures； pedicures； and makeovers； I hadn’t seen a
dentist or a gynecologist in a year。
“Anything I can do？” I asked； trying to sound casual while I
racked my brain thinking of why she’d called to tell me that
she didn’t feel well。 As far as we were both concerned； it was
pletely and entirely irrelevant。 She’d be at work on Monday
whether she felt well or not。
She coughed deeply and I heard phlegm rattling in her lungs。
“Um； yeah； actually。 God； I can’t believe this is happening to
me！”
“What？ What’s happening？”
“I can’t go to Europe with Miranda。 I have mono。”
“What？”
“You heard me； I can’t go。 The doctor called today with the
blood results； and as of right now； I’m not allowed to leave
my apartment for the next three weeks。”
Three weeks！ She had to be kidding。 There wasn’t time to feel
badly for her—she’d just told me she wasn’t going to Europe；
and it was that thought alone—the idea that both Miranda and
Emily would be out of my life—that had sustained me through
the past couple months。
“Em； she’s going to kill you—you have to go！ Does she know
yet？”
There was a foreboding silence on the other end。 “Um； yeah；
she knows。”
“You called her？”
“Yes。 I had my doctor call her； actually； because she didn’t
think that having mono really qualified me as sick； so he had
to tell her that I could infect her and everyone else； and
anyway 。 。 。” Her sentence trailed off； and her tone was
suggestive of something far； far worse。
“Anyway what？” My self…preservation instincts had kicked into
overdrive。
“Anyway 。 。 。 she wants you to go with her。”
“She wants me to go with her； huh？ That’s cute。 What’d she
really say？ She didn’t threaten to fire you for getting sick；
did she？”
“Andrea； I’m—” a deep； mucousy cough shook her voice and I
thought for a moment that she might very well die right there
on the phone with me “—serious。 pletely and totally
serious。 She said something about the assistants they give her
abroad being idiots and that even you’d be better to have
around than them。”
“Oh； well； when you put it like that； sign me up！ Nothing
quite like some over…the…top flattery to convince me to do
something。 Seriously； she shouldn’t have said such nice
things。 I’m blushing！” I didn’t know whether to focus on the
fact that Miranda wanted me to go to Paris with her； or that
she only wanted me to go because she considered me slightly
less brain…dead than the anorexic French clones of； well 。 。 。
me。
“Oh； just shut up already；” she croaked in between fits of now
annoying coughing。 “You’re the luckiest fucking person in the
world。 I’ve been waiting two years—over two years—for this
trip； and now I can’t go。 The irony of this is painful—you
realize that； don’t you？”
“Of course I do！ It’s one giant cliché： this trip is your sole
reason for living and it’s the bane of my existence； yet I’m
going and you’re not。 life is funny； huh？ I’m laughing so hard
I can barely stop；” I deadpanned； sounding not the least bit
amused。
“Yeah； well； I think it sucks； too； but what can you do？ I
already called Jeffy to tell him to start calling in clothes
for you。 You’ll have to bring a ton since you’ll need
different outfits for each of the shows you attend； any
dinners； and； of course； for Miranda’s party at the Hotel
Costes。 Allison will help you out with makeup。 Talk to Stef in
accessories for bags and shoes and jewelry。 You only have a
week； so get on it first thing tomorrow； OK？”
“I still don’t really believe she expects me to do this。”
“Well； believe it； because she sure wasn’t kidding。 Since I’m
not going to be able to e to the office at all this week；
you’re also going to—”
“What？ You’re not even going to e into theoffice ？” I might
not have taken a sick day or spent a single hour outside the
office while Miranda was there； but Emily hadn’t； either。 The
one time it had been close—when her great…grandfather had
died—she’d managed to get Home to Philadelphia； attend the
funeral； and be back at her desk without missing a minute of
work。 This was how things worked。 Period。 Short of death
（immediate family only）； dismemberment （your own）； or nuclear
war （only if confirmed by the U。S。 government to be directly
affecting Manhattan）； one was to be present。 This would be a
watershed moment in the Priestly regime。
“Andrea； I have mononucleosis。 I’m highly infectious。 It’s
really serious。 I’m not supposed to leave my apartment for a
cup of Coffee； never mind go to work for the day。 Miranda
understands that； and so you’ll need to pick up the slack。
There will be a lot to do to get both of you ready for Paris。
Miranda leaves on Wednesday for Milan； and then you’ll be
leaving to meet her in Paris the following Tuesday。”
“She understands that？ C’mon！ Tell me what she really said。” I
refused to believe that she’d accepted something as mundane as
mono for an excuse to not be available。 “Just give me that
small pleasure。 After all； my life will be hell for the next
few weeks。”
Emily sighed； and I could feel her eyes roll over the phone。
“Well； she wasn’t thrilled。 I didn’t actually talk to her； you
see； but my doctor said she kept asking if mono is a ‘real’
disease。 But when he assured her that it was； she was very
understanding。”
I laughed out loud。 “I’m sure she was； Em； I’m sure she was。
Don’t worry about a thing； OK？ You just concentrate on feeling
better； and I’ll take