《时尚女魔头 穿普拉达的恶魔 英文原版》

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时尚女魔头 穿普拉达的恶魔 英文原版- 第6部分


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  7:15A 。M。 Who the hell would call at such an hour?

  “It’s me;” barked a very angry…sounding Lily。

  “Hi; is everything OK?”

  “Do you think I’d be calling you if everything was OK? I’m so 
  hungover I could die; and I finally stop puking long enough to fall 
  asleep; and I’m awakened by a scarily perky woman who says she works 
  in HR at Elias…Clark。 And she’s looking for you。 Atseven…fifteen in 
  the freakin’ morning。 So call her back。 And tell her to lose my 
  number。”

  “Sorry; Lil。 I gave them your number because I don’t have a cell 
  yet。 I can’t believe she called so early! I wonder if that’s good or 
  bad?” I took the portable and crept out of the bedroom; quietly 
  closing the door as I went。

  “Whatev。 Good luck。 Let me know how it goes。 Just not in the next 
  couple hours; OK?”

  “Will do。 Thanks。 And sorry。”

  I looked at my watch again and couldn’t believe I was about to have 
  a Business conversation。 I put on a pot of Coffee and waited until 
  it had finished brewing and brought a cup to the couch。 It was time 
  to call。 I had no choice。

  “Hello; this is Andrea Sachs;” I said firmly; although my voice 
  betrayed me with its deep; raspy; just…woke…up…ness。

  “Andrea; good morning! Hope I didn’t call too early;” Sharon sang; 
  her own voice full of sunshine。 “I’m sure I didn’t; my dear; 
  especially since you’ll have to be an early bird soon enough! I have 
  some very good news。 Miranda was very impressed with you and said 
  she’s very much looking forward to working with you。 Isn’t that 
  wonderful? Congratulations; dear。 How does it feel to be Miranda 
  Priestly’s new assistant? I imagine that you’re just—”

  My head was spinning。 I tried to pull myself off the couch to get 
  some more Coffee; water; anything that might clear my head and turn 
  her words back into English; but I only sank further into the 
  cushions。 Was she asking me if I would like the job? Or was she 
  making an official offer? I couldn’t make sense of anything she’d 
  just said; anything other than the fact that Miranda Priestly had 
  liked me。

  “—delighted with this news。 Who wouldn’t be; right? So let’s see; 
  you can start on Monday; right? She’ll actually be on vacation then; 
  but that’s a great time to start。 Give you a little time to get 
  acquainted with the other girls—oh; they’re all such sweeties!” 
  Acquainted? What? Starting Monday? Sweetie girls? It was refusing to 
  make sense in my addled brain。 I picked a single phrase that I’d 
  understood and responded to it。

  “Um; well; I don’t think I can start Monday;” I said quietly; hoping 
  I’d indeed said something coherent。 Saying those words had shocked 
  me into semiwakefulness。 I’d walked through the Elias…Clark doors 
  for the very first time the day before; and was being awakened from 
  a deep sleep to listen to someone tell me that I was to begin work 
  in three days。 It was Friday—at seven o’clock in the goddamn 
  morning—and they wanted me to start on Monday? It began to feel like 
  everything was spiraling out of control。 Why the ridiculous rush? 
  Was this woman so important that she needed me so badly? And why 
  exactly did Sharon herself sound so scared of Miranda?

  Starting Monday would be impossible。 I had nowhere to live。 Home 
  base was my parents’ house in Avon; the place I’d grudgingly moved 
  back to after graduation; and where most of my things remained while 
  I’d traveled during the summer。 All of my interview…related clothes 
  were piled on Lily’s couch。 I’d been trying to do the dishes and 
  empty her ashtrays and buy pints of Hä;agen…Dazs so she wouldn’t hate 
  me; but I thought it only fair to give her a much…needed break from 
  my unending presence; so I camped out on weekends at Alex’s。 That 
  put all of my weekend going…out clothes and fun makeup at Alex’s in 
  Brooklyn; my laptop and mismatched suits at Lily’s Harlem studio; 
  and the rest of my life at my parents’ house in Avon。 I had no 
  apartment in New York and didn’t particularly understand how 
  everyone knew that Madison Avenue ran uptown but Broadway ran down。 
  I didn’t actually know what uptown was。 And she wanted me to start 
  Monday?

  “Um; well; I don’t think I can do this Monday because I don’t 
  currently live in New York;” I quickly explained; clutching the 
  phone; “and I’ll need a couple days to find an apartment and buy 
  some furniture and move。”

  “Oh; well; then。 I suppose Wednesday would be OK;” she sniffed。

  After a few more minutes of haggling; we finally settled on November 
  17; a week from Monday。 That left me a little more than eight days 
  to find and furnish a Home in one of the craziest real estate 
  markets in the world。

  I hung up and flopped back down on the couch。 My hands were 
  trembling; and I let the phone drop to the floor。 A week。 I had a 
  week to start working at the job I’d just accepted as Miranda 
  Priestly’s assistant。 But; wait! That’s what was bothering me 。 。 。 
  I hadn’t actually accepted the job because it hadn’t even been 
  officially offered。 Sharon hadn’t even had to utter the words “We’d 
  like to make you an offer;” since she took it for granted that 
  anyone with some semblance of intelligence would obviously just 
  accept。 No one had so much as mentioned the word “salary。” I almost 
  laughed out loud。 Was this some sort of war tactic they’d perfected? 
  Wait until the victim was finally deep into REM sleep after an 
  extremely stressful day and then throw some life…altering news at 
  her? Or had she just assumed that it would be wasted time and breath 
  to do something as mundane as make a job offer and wait for 
  acceptance; considering that this wasRunway magazine? Sharon had 
  just assumed that of course I’d jump all over the chance; that I’d 
  be thrilled with the opportunity。 And; as they always were at 
  Elias…Clark; she was right。 It had all happened so fast; so 
  frenetically; that I hadn’t had time to debate and deliberate as 
  usual。 But I had a good feeling that thiswas an opportunity I’d be 
  crazy to turn down; that this could actually be a great first step 
  to getting toThe New Yorker 。 I had to try it。 I was lucky to have 
  it。

  Newly energized; I gulped the rest of my Coffee; brewed another cup 
  for Alex; and took a quick; hot shower。 When I went back into his 
  room; he was just sitting up。

  “You’re dressed already?” he asked; fumbling for the tiny 
  wire…rimmed glasses he was blind without。 “Did someone call this 
  morning; or did I dream that?”

  “Not a dream;” I said; crawling back under the covers even though I 
  was wearing jeans and a turtleneck sweater。 I was careful not to let 
  my wet hair soak his pillows。 “That was Lily。 The HR woman from 
  Elias…Clark called her place because that’s the number I gave them。 
  And guess what?”

  “You got the job?”

  “I got the job!”

  “Oh; e here!” he said; sitting up and hugging me。 “I’m so proud 
  of you! That’s great news; it really is。”

  “So you really think it’s a good opportunity? I know we talked about 
  it; but they didn’t even give me a chance to decide。 She just 
  assumed that I’d want the job。”

  “It’s an amazing opportunity。 fashion isn’t the worst thing on 
  earth—maybe it’ll even be interesting。”

  I rolled my eyes。

  “OK; so maybe that’s going a little far。 But withRunway on your 
  résumé and a letter from this Miranda woman; and maybe even a few 
  clips by the time you’re done; hell; you can do anything。The New 
  Yorker will be beating down your door。”

  “I hope you’re right; I really do。” I jumped up and starting 
  throwing my things in my backpack。 “Is it still OK if I borrow your 
  car? The sooner I get Home; the sooner I can get back。 Not that it 
  really matters; because I’mmoving to New York 。 It’s official!”

  Since Alex went home to Westchester twice a week to babysit his 
  little brother when his mom had to work late; his mom had given him 
  her old car to keep in the city。 But he wouldn’t be needing it until 
  Tuesday; and I’d be back before then。 I had been planning to go Home 
  that weekend anyway; and now I’d have some good news to bring with 
  me。

  “Sure。 No problem。 It’s in a spot about a half…block down on Grand 
  Street。 The keys are on the kitchen table。 Call me when you get 
  there; OK?”

  “Will do。 Sure you don’t want to e? There’ll be great food—you 
  know my mom orders in only the best。”

  “Sounds tempting。 You know I would; but I organized some of the 
  younger teachers to get together tomorrow night for happy hour。 
  Thought it might help us all work as a team。 I really can’t miss 
  it。”

  “Goddamn do…gooder。 Always doing good; spreading good cheer wherever 
  you go。 I’d hate you if I didn’t love you so much。” I leaned over 
  and kissed him good…bye。

  I found his little green Jetta on the first try and only spent 
  twenty minutes trying to find the parkway that would take me to 95 
  North; which was wide open。 It was a freezing day for November; the 
  temperature was in the midthirties; and there were slick frozen 
  patches on the back roads。 But the sun was out; the kind of winter 
  glare that causes unaccustomed eyes to tear and squint; and the air 
  felt clean and cold in my lungs。 I rode the entire way with the 
  window rolled down; listening to the “Almost Famous” soundtrack on 
  repeat。 I worked my damp hair into a ponytail with one hand to keep 
  it from flying in my eyes; and blew on my hands to keep them warm; 
  or at least warm enough to grip the steering wheel。 Only six months 
  out of college; and my life was on the verge of bursting forward。 
  Miranda Priestly; a stranger until yesterday but a powerful woman 
  indeed; had handpicked me to join her magazine。 Now I had a concrete 
  reason to leave Connecticut and move—all on my own; as a real adult 
  would—to Manhattan and make it my Home。 As I pulled into the 
  driveway of my childhood house; sheer exhilaration took over。 My 
  cheeks looked red and windburned in the rearview mirror; and my hair 
  was flying wildly about。 There was no makeup on my face; and my 
  jeans were dirty around the bottom from trudging through the city 
  slush。 But at that moment; I felt beautiful。 Natural and cold and 
  clean and crisp; I threw open the front door and called out for my 
  mother。 It was the last time in my life I remember feeling so light。

  “A week? Honey; I just don’t see how you’re going to start work in a 
  week;” my mother said; stirring her tea with a spoon。 We were 
  sitting at the kitchen table in our usual spots
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