Free Revenge Wears Prada by Lauren Weisberger

saw her? —but Andy couldn’t make herself speak them. Instead, she squeezed Max’s hand and tried to push the fear out of her head. This was her one and only wedding weekend, and she wasn’t willing to ruin it with insecurity and an argument.
    Andy slightly hated herself for copping out. But everything would be okay. It simply had to be.

chapter 5
i’d hardly call it dating
    She unlocked the door to the West Chelsea loft offices of The Plunge and held her breath. Safe. Never had Andy seen another living soul at work before nine—in keeping with typical New York creative hours, most of the staff didn’t roll in until ten, often ten thirty—and she was thrilled today was no different. The two to three hours before everyone else arrived were by far her most productive of the day, even if she did feel sometimes slightly Miranda-ish e-mailing and leaving voice mails for people before they’d woken up.
    No one, including Max, had blinked when Andy suggested they cut short their post-wedding trip to the Adirondacks. After two days of Andy’s puking—and, sadly for Max, no marital consummation—he didn’t argue when Andy said they would both be happier back home. Besides, they had a proper two-week honeymoon in Fiji scheduled over the December holidays. It was a gift from Max’s parents’ best friends, and although Andy didn’t know all the details, she’d heard the words helicopter, private island, and chef thrown around often enough to be very, very excited. Bailing on their three-day getaway in upstate New York when it was already getting too cold to be outside didn’t seem like such a big deal.
    Andy and Max had fallen into a routine when they’d moved in together the year before, right after he proposed. Weekday mornings they woke up at six. He made them both coffee while she fixed oatmeal or fruit smoothies. They would head to the Equinox on Seventeenth and Tenth together and spend exactly forty-five minutes there; Max did a combination of free weights and the stair treader; Andy bided her time on the treadmill, speed fixed at 5.8, eyes glued to whatever rom com she’d downloaded to her iPad, fervently wishing the time would pass faster, faster. They’d shower and dress at home together, and Max would drop her at The Plunge ’s office on Twenty-Fourth and Eleventh before zooming in the company car up the West Side Highway to his own offices in midtown west. Both were installed at their respective desks by eight each morning, and barring extreme illness or weather, the schedule was unalterable. This morning, however, Andy had set her phone to vibrate twenty minutes earlier than usual and slithered out from underneath the covers the instant her pillow started to shake. Forsaking a shower and coffee, she pulled on her comfiest pair of charcoal pants, her match-anything white button-down, and her most boring black peacoat and slipped out just as she heard Max’s alarm beginning to sound. She sent him a quick text saying that she had to get to work early and that she’d see him later that evening for Yacht Party, although her stomach still felt unsettled and her muscles were achy, exhausted. Her temperature last night had been just over a hundred.
    Andy’s cell rang before she’d even taken off her coat.
    “Emily? What are you doing awake?” Andy checked her delicate gold watch, an engagement gift from her father. “It’s, like, two hours too early for you.”
    “Why are you answering?” Emily asked, sounding confused.
    “Because you called.”
    “I only called to leave a message. I didn’t think you’d pick up.”
    Andy laughed. “Thanks. Should I hang up? We can try it again.”
    “Aren’t you supposed to be resting up for a grueling day of wine tasting or something?”
    “Leaf-peeping followed by massages, actually.”
    “Seriously, why are you awake? Aren’t you still upstate?”
    Andy hit the speaker button and took the opportunity to remove her coat and collapse into her chair. It