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时尚女魔头 穿普拉达的恶魔 英文原版-第章

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  otherwise; in the middle of the day; I called the vet’s office from 
  outside and asked them to bring Madelaine to me。 A kindly woman 
  emerged a few minutes later (just enough time for me to field 
  another call from Miranda; this one asking why I wasn’t back at the 
  office yet) with a whimpering; sniffling puppy。 The woman showed me 
  Madelaine’s stitched…up belly and told me to drive very; very 
  carefully because the dog was “experiencing some disfort。” Right; 
  lady。 I’m driving very; very carefully solely to save my job and 
  possibly my life—if the dog benefits from this; it’s just a bonus。

  With Madelaine curled up on the passenger seat; I lit another 
  cigarette and rubbed my freezing bare feet so my toes could resume 
  gripping the clutch and brake pedal。Clutch; gas; shift; release 
  clutch; I chanted; trying to ignore the dog’s pitiful howls every 
  time I accelerated。 She alternated between crying; whining; and 
  snorting。 By the time we reached Miranda’s building; the pup was 
  nearly hysterical。 I tried to soothe her; but she could sense my 
  insincerity—and besides; I had no free hands with which to offer a 
  reassuring pat or nuzzle。 So this was what four years of diagramming 
  and deconstructing books; plays; short stories; and poems were for: 
  a chance to fort a small; white; batlike bulldog while trying not 
  to demolish someone else’s really; really expensive car。 Sweet life。 
  Just as I had always dreamed。

  I managed to dump the car at the garage and the dog with Miranda’s 
  doorman without further incident; but my hands were still shaking 
  when I climbed into the chauffeured Town Car that had been following 
  me all over town。 The driver looked at me sympathetically and made 
  some supportive ment about the difficulty of stick shifts; but I 
  didn’t feel much like chatting。

  “Just heading back to the Elias…Clark building;” I said with a long 
  sigh as the driver pulled around the block and headed south on Park 
  Avenue。 Since I rode the route every day—sometimes twice—I knew I 
  had exactly eight minutes to breathe and collect myself and possibly 
  even figure out a way to disguise the ash and sweat stains that had 
  bee permanent features on the Gucci suede。 The shoes—well; those 
  were beyond hope; at least until they could be fixed by the fleet of 
  shoemakersRunway kept for such emergencies。 The ride was actually 
  over in six and a half minutes; and I had no choice but to hobble 
  like an off…balance giraffe on my one flat; one four…inch heel 
  arrangement。 A quick stop in the Closet turned up a brand…new pair 
  of knee…high maroon…colored Jimmy Choos that looked great with the 
  leather skirt I grabbed; tossing the suede pants in the “Couture 
  Cleaning” pile (where the basic prices for dry cleaning started at 
  seventy…five dollars per item)。 The only stop left was a quick visit 
  to the Beauty Closet; where one of the editors there took one look 
  at my sweat…streaked makeup and whipped out a trunk full of fixers。

  Not bad;I thought; looking in one of the omnipresent full…length 
  mirrors。 You might not even know that mere minutes before I was 
  hovering precariously close to murdering myself and everyone around 
  me。 I strolled confidently into the assistants’ suite outside 
  Miranda’s office and quietly took my seat; looking forward to a few 
  free minutes before she returned from lunch。

  “And…re…ah;” she called from her starkly furnished; deliberately 
  cold office。 “Where are the car and the puppy?”

  I leaped out of my seat and ran as fast as was possible on plush 
  carpeting while wearing five…inch heels and stood before her desk。 
  “I left the car with the garage attendant and Madelaine with your 
  doorman; Miranda;” I said; proud to have pleted both tasks 
  without killing the car; the dog; or myself。

  “And why would you do something like that?” she snarled; looking up 
  from her copy ofWomen’s Wear Daily for the first time since I’d 
  walked in。 “I specifically requested that you bring both of them to 
  the office; since the girls will be here momentarily and we need to 
  leave。”

  “Oh; well; actually; I thought you said that you wanted them to—”

  “Enough。 The details of your inpetence interest me very little。 
  Go get the car and the puppy and bring them here。 I’m expecting 
  we’ll be all ready to leave in fifteen minutes。 Understood?”

  Fifteen minutes? Was this woman hallucinating? It would take a 
  minute or two to get downstairs and into a Town Car; another six or 
  eight to get to her apartment; and then somewhere in the vicinity of 
  three hours for me to find the puppy in her eighteen…room apartment; 
  extract the bucking stick shift from its parking spot; and make my 
  way the twenty blocks to the office。

  “Of course; Miranda。 Fifteen minutes。”

  I started shaking again the moment I ran out of her office; 
  wondering if my heart could just up and give out at the ripe old age 
  of twenty…three。 The first cigarette I lit landed directly on the 
  top of my new Jimmys; where instead of falling to the cement it 
  smoldered for just long enough to burn a small; neat hole。Great; I 
  muttered。That’s just fucking great。 Chalk up my total as an even 
  four grand for today’s ruined merchandise—a new personal best。 Maybe 
  she’d die before I got back; I thought; deciding that now was the 
  time to look on the bright side。 Maybe; just maybe; she’d keel over 
  from something rare and exotic and we’d all be released from her 
  wellspring of misery。 I relished a last drag before stamping out the 
  cigarette and told myself to be rational。You don’t want her to die; 
  I thought; stretching out in the backseat。Because if she does; you 
  lose all hope of killing her yourself。 And thatwould be a shame。

  2

  I knew nothing when I went for my first interview and stepped ont
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