按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
might be in New York； but Emily still had to use Miranda’s name to
score the time slot。
“Well； what are you going to do when you show up there and you’re
clearly not Miranda Priestly？” I asked stupidly。
As usual； I received an expert eye…roll…deep…sigh bo。 “I’ll
simply tell them that Miranda had to be out of town unexpectedly；
show them a Business card； and tell them she wanted me to have her
reservation。 Hardly a big deal。”
Miranda called only once after Emily left to tell me that she
wouldn’t be in the office until noon tomorrow； but she’d like a copy
of the restaurant review she’d read today “in the paper。” I had the
presence of mind to ask if she recalled the name of the restaurant
or the paper in which she read about it； but this annoyed her
greatly。
“Ahn…dre…ah； I’m already late for the meet。 Don’t grill me。 It was
an Asian fusion restaurant and it was in today’s paper。 That’s all。”
And with that； she snapped her Motorola V60 shut。 I hoped； as I
usually did when she cut me off midsentence； that one day the Cell
Phone would simply clamp down on her perfectly manicured fingers and
swallow them whole； taking special time to shred those flawless red
nails。 No luck yet。
I wrote a quick note to myself to find the restaurant first thing in
the morning in the notebook I kept with Miranda’s myriad and
ever…changing requests and bolted for the car。 I called Lily from my
cell and she picked up just as I was about to get out and go up to
the apartment； and so I waved to John Fisher…Galliano （who had grown
his hair a little longer and adorned his uniform with a few chains
and looked more like the designer each and every day） but didn’t
move。
“Hey； what’s up？ It’s me。”
“Hiiiiiiiiiii；”she sang； happier than I’d heard her in weeks； maybe
months。 “I am so done。 Done！ No early summer session； nothing but a
little； insignificant proposal due for a master’s thesis that I can
change ten times after the fact if I want。 So that leaves nothing
until mid…July。 Do you believe it？” She sounded positively gleeful。
“I know； I’m so excited for you！ You up for a celebratory dinner？
Anywhere you want； it’s onRunway 。”
“Really？ Anywhere？”
“Anywhere。 I’m downstairs and I have a car。 e down； we’ll go
somewhere great。”
She squealed。 “Fun！ I’ve been meaning to tell you all about Freudian
Boy。 He’s beautiful！ Hold on one second。 I’m putting on jeans and
I’ll be right down。”
She bounded out five minutes later looking trendier and happier than
I’d seen her in a very long time。 She wore a pair of tight； faded
boot…cut jeans that hugged her hips； paired with a long…sleeve flowy
white peasant blouse。 A pair of flip…flops I’d never seen
before—brown leather straps with turquoise beads—pleted the look。
She was even wearing makeup； and her curls looked as though they had
seen a blow…dryer at some point in the last twenty…four hours。
“You look great；” I said as she bounded into the backseat。 “What’s
your secret？”
“Freudian Boy； of course。 He’s amazing。 I think I’m in love。 So far；
he’s going strong at nine…tenths。 Do you believe it？”
“First； let’s decide where we’re going。 I didn’t make a reservation
anywhere； but I can call ahead and use Miranda’s name。 Anywhere you
want。”
She was rubbing on some Kiehl’s lip gloss and staring at herself in
the driver’s rearview mirror。 “Anywhere？” she said absentmindedly。
“Anywhere。 Maybe Chicama for those mojitos？” I suggested； knowing
that the way to sell Lily on a restaurant was by advertising its
drinks； not its food。 “Or there are those amazing Cosmos at Meet。 Or
the Hudson Hotel—maybe we can even sit outside？ If you want wine；
though； I’d love to try—”
“Andy； can we go to Benihana？ I’ve been craving it forever。” She
looked sheepish。
“Benihana？ You want to go toBenihana ？ Like； the chain restaurant
where they seat you with tourists who have lots of whining children
and unemployed Asian actors cook the food right on your table？That
Benihana？”
She was nodding so enthusiastically； I had no choice but to call for
the address。
“No； no； I have it right here。 Fifty…sixth between Fifth and Sixth；
north side of the street；” she called to the driver。
My weirdly excited friend didn’t seem to notice that I was staring。
Instead； she chatted happily about Freudian Boy； aptly named because
he was in his last year of a Ph。D。 program in psychology。 They’d met
in the graduate student lounge in the basement of Low Library。 I got
the full rundown on all of his qualifications： twenty…nine years old
（“So much more mature； but not at all too old”）； originally from
Montreal （“Such a cute French accent； but like； totally
Americanized”）； longish hair （“But not freaky ponytail long”）； and
just the right amount of stubble （“He looks just like Antonio
Banderas when he doesn’t shave for three days”）。
The samurai chef…actors did their thing； slicing and dicing and
flipping cubes of meat all over the place while Lily laughed and
clapped her hands like a little girl at her first circus。 Although
it seemed impossible to believe that Lily actually liked a guy； it
appeared to be the only logical explanation for her obvious elation。
Even more impossible to believe was her claim that she hadn’t slept
with him yet （“Two and a half full weeks of hanging out constantly
at school and nothing！ Aren’t you proud of me？”）。 When I asked why I
hadn’t seen him around the apartment at all； she’d smiled proudly
and said； “He hasn’t been invited over to the apartment yet。 We’re
taking things slow。” We were standing directly outside the
restaurant as she regaled me with all the funny stories