The Devil Wears Prada Read Online Free Page A

ofRunway ?” she asked,
looking pointedly at me for the first time since I’d sat down.
     
     Blank.
Completely and totally blank, I couldn’t remember a thing. I
couldn’t believe she wasquizzing me! I’d never read an issue
ofRunway in my life—she wasn’t allowed to ask me aboutthat one. No
one cared aboutRunway . It was afashion magazine, for chrissake, one I
wasn’t even sure contained any writing, just lots of hungry-looking
models and glossy ads. I stammered for a moment or two, while the different
names of editors I’d just before forced my brain to remember all swirled
inside my head, dancing together in mismatched pairs. Somewhere in the deep
recesses of my mind, I was sure I knew her name—after all, who
didn’t? But it wouldn’t gel in my addled brain.
     
     “Uh,
well, it seems I can’t recall her name right now. But I know I know it,
of course I know it. Everyone knows who she is! I just, well, don’t, uh,
seem to know it right now.”
     
     She
peered at me for a moment, her large brown eyes finally fixated on my now
perspiring face. “Miranda Priestly,” she near-whispered, with a
mixture of reverence and fear. “Her name is Miranda Priestly.”
     
     Silence
ensued. For what felt like a full minute, neither of us said a word, but then
Sharon must have made the decision to overlook my crucial misstep. I
didn’t know then that she was desperate to hire another assistant for
Miranda, couldn’t know that she was desperate to stop this woman from
calling her day and night, grilling her about potential candidates. Desperate
to find someone, anyone, whom Miranda wouldn’t reject. And if I
might—however unlikely—stand even the smallest chance of getting
hired and thereby relieve her, well, then attention must be paid.
     
     Sharon
smiled tersely and told me I was going to meet with Miranda’s two assistants.Two
assistants?
     
     “Why
yes,” she confirmed with an exasperated look. “Of course Miranda
needs two assistants. Her current senior assistant, Allison, has been promoted
to beRunway ‘s beauty editor, and Emily, the junior assistant, will be
taking Allison’s place. That leaves the junior position open for someone!
     
     “Andrea,
I know you’ve just graduated from college and probably aren’t
entirely familiar with the inner workings of the magazine world…”
She paused dramatically, searching for the right words. “But I feel
it’s my duty, myobligation, to tell you what a truly incredible
opportunity this is. Miranda Priestly…” She paused again just as
dramatically, as though she were mentally bowing. “Miranda Priestly is
the single most influential woman in the fashion industry, and clearly one of
the most prominent magazine editors in the world. The world! The chance to work
for her, to watch her edit and meet with famous writers and models, to help her
achieve all she doeseach and every day, well, I shouldn’t need to tell
you that it’s a job a million girls would die for.”
     
     “Um,
yeah, I mean yes, that does sound wonderful,” I said, briefly wondering
why Sharon was trying to talk me into something that a million other people
would die for. But there wasn’t time to think about it. She picked up the
phone and sang a few words, and within minutes she’d escorted me to the
elevators to begin my interviews with Miranda’s two assistants.
     
     I
thought Sharon was starting to sound a bit like a robot, but then came my meeting
with Emily. I found my way down to the seventeenth floor and waited inRunway
‘s unnervingly white reception area. It took just over a half hour before
a tall, thin girl emerged from behind the glass doors. A calf-length leather
skirt hung from her hips, and her unruly red hair was piled in one of those
messy but still glamorous buns on top of her head. Her skin was flawless and
pale, not so much as a single freckle or blemish, and it stretched perfectly
over the highest cheekbones I’d ever seen. She didn’t smile.