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时尚女魔头 穿普拉达的恶魔 英文原版-第66部分

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  cup of Coffee; never mind go to work for the day。 Miranda 
  understands that; and so you’ll need to pick up the slack。 
  There will be a lot to do to get both of you ready for Paris。 
  Miranda leaves on Wednesday for Milan; and then you’ll be 
  leaving to meet her in Paris the following Tuesday。”

  “She understands that? C’mon! Tell me what she really said。” I 
  refused to believe that she’d accepted something as mundane as 
  mono for an excuse to not be available。 “Just give me that 
  small pleasure。 After all; my life will be hell for the next 
  few weeks。”

  Emily sighed; and I could feel her eyes roll over the phone。 
  “Well; she wasn’t thrilled。 I didn’t actually talk to her; you 
  see; but my doctor said she kept asking if mono is a ‘real’ 
  disease。 But when he assured her that it was; she was very 
  understanding。”

  I laughed out loud。 “I’m sure she was; Em; I’m sure she was。 
  Don’t worry about a thing; OK? You just concentrate on feeling 
  better; and I’ll take care of everything else。”

  “I’ll e…mail you a checklist; just so you don’t forget 
  anything。”

  “I won’t forget anything。 She’s been to Europe four times in 
  the past year。 I’ve got it down。 I’ll get the cash from the 
  basement bank; change a few grand into euros; buy a few more 
  grand’s worth of traveler’s checks; and triple confirm all of 
  her hair and makeup appointments while she’s there。 What else? 
  Oh; I’ll make sure the Ritz gives her the right Cell Phone 
  this time; and I’ll speak to the drivers ahead of time to make 
  sure they know they can’t ever leave her waiting。 I’m already 
  thinking of all the people who’ll need copies of her 
  itinerary—which I’ll type up; no problem—and I’ll see to it 
  that it gets passed around。 And of course she’ll have a 
  detailed itinerary as to the twins’ classes; lessons; 
  practices; and play dates; and full listings of the entire 
  household staff’s work schedules。 See! You don’t have to 
  worry—I’ve got it all under control。”

  “Don’t forget about the velvet;” she chided; singing the last 
  couple words as if on autopilot。 “Or the scarves!”

  “Of course not! They’re already on my list。” Before Miranda 
  packed for anything—or rather; had her housekeeper pack 
  her—either Emily or I would purchase massive rolls of velvet 
  at a fabric store and bring them to Miranda’s apartment。 
  There; we’d work with the housekeeper to cut them in the exact 
  shape and size of every article of clothing she was planning 
  to bring; and individually wrap each item in the plush 
  material。 The velvet packages were then neatly stacked in 
  dozens of Louis Vuitton suitcases; with plenty of extra pieces 
  included for when she inevitably threw the first batch out 
  upon unpacking in Paris。 In addition; usually one half of a 
  suitcase was occupied by a couple dozen orange Hermès boxes; 
  each containing a single white scarf just waiting to be lost; 
  forgotten; misplaced; or simply discarded。

  I hung up with Emily after making a good effort to sound 
  sincerely sympathetic and found Lily stretched out on the 
  couch; smoking a cigarette and sipping a clear liquid that was 
  definitely not water from a cocktail glass。

  “I thought we weren’t allowed to smoke in here;” I said; 
  flopping down next to her and immediately putting my feet on 
  the scuffed wooden Coffee table my parents had handed down to 
  us。 “Not that I care; but that wasyour rule。” Lily wasn’t a 
  full…time; mitted smoker like yours truly; she usually 
  smoked only when she drank and wasn’t one to even buy packs。 A 
  brand…new box of Camel Special Lights peeked out of the chest 
  pocket of her oversize button…down。 I nudged her thigh with my 
  slippered foot and nodded toward the cigarettes。 She handed 
  them over with a lighter。

  “I knew you wouldn’t care;” she said; taking a leisurely drag 
  off her cigarette。 “I’m procrastinating and it helps me 
  concentrate。”

  “What do you have due?” I asked; lighting my own cigarette and 
  tossing back the lighter。 She was taking seventeen credits 
  this semester in an effort to pull up her GPA after last 
  spring’s mediocre showing。 I watched as she took another drag 
  and washed it down with a healthy gulp of her nonwater 
  beverage。 It didn’t appear that she was on the right track。

  She sighed heavily; meaningfully; and let the cigarette hang 
  suspended from the corner of her mouth as she spoke。 It 
  flapped up and down; threatening to fall at any moment and; 
  bined with her wild; unwashed hair and smeared eye makeup; 
  made her look—just for a moment—like a defendant onJudge Judy 
  (or maybe a plaintiff; since they always looked the same—lack 
  of teeth; greasy hair; dull eyes; and propensity for using the 
  double negative)。 “An article for some totally random; 
  esoteric academic journal that no one will ever read but I 
  still have to write; just so I can say I’m published。”

  “That’s annoying。 When’s it due?”

  “Tomorrow。” Total nonchalance。 She looked pletely unfazed。

  “Tomorrow? For real?”

  She shot me a warning look; a quick reminder that I was 
  supposed to be on her team。 “Yes。 Tomorrow。 It really blows; 
  considering that Freudian Boy is the one who’s assigned to 
  edit it。 No one seems to care that he’s a candidate in psych; 
  not Russian lit—they’re just short copy editors; so he’s mine。 
  There’s noway I’m getting that to him on time。 Screw him。” 
  Once again; she poured some of the liquid down her throat; 
  making an obvious effort not to taste it; and grimaced。

  “Lil; what happened? Granted; it’s been a few months; but last 
  I heard; you were taking things slow and he was perfect。 Of 
  course; that was before that; thatthing you dragged Home; but 
  。 。 。”

  Another warning look; this time followed by a glare。 I’d tried 
  to talk to her about the whole Freak Boy incident a few dozen 
  times; but it seemed like we were never really alone and 
  neither of us had much time lately for heart…to…hearts。 She 
  immediately changed the subject whenever I brought it up。 I 
  could tell that more than anything she was embarrassed; she 
  had acknowledged that he was vile; but she wouldn’t 
  participate in any discussion whatsoever about the excessive 
  drinking that was responsible for the whole episode。

  “Yes; well; apparently at some point that night I called him 
  from Au Bar and begged him to e meet me;” she said; 
  avoiding eye contact; instead concentrating intently on using 
  the remote control to switch tracks on the mournful Jeff 
  Buckley CD that seemed to be on permanent replay in the 
  apartment。

  “So? Did he e and see you talking to; uh; to someone else?” 
  I was trying not to push her away even more by being critical 
  of her。 There was obviously a lot going on inside her head; 
  what with the problems at school and the drinking and the 
  seemingly limitless supply of guys; and I wanted her to open 
  up to someone。 She’d never kept anything from me before; if 
  for no other reason than I was all she had; but she hadn’t 
  been telling me much of anything lately。 It occurred to me how 
  strange it was that we hadn’t bothered to discuss this until 
  four months after the fact。

  “No; not quite;” she said bitterly。 “He came all the way there 
  from Morningside Heights only to find me not there。 Apparently 
  he called my Cell Phone and Kenny answered and wasn’t all that 
  nice。”

  “Kenny?”

  “Thatthing I dragged Home at the beginning of the summer; 
  remember?” She said it sarcastically; but this time she 
  smiled。

  “Ah…hah。 I’m guessing Freudian Boy didn’t take that well?”

  “Not so much。 Whatever。 Easy e; easy go; right?” She 
  scampered off to the kitchen with her empty glass and I saw 
  her pour from a half…full bottle of Ketel One。 A very small 
  splash of soda; and she was back on the couch。

  I was just about to inquire as gently as possible why she was 
  inhaling vodka when she had an article due the next day; but 
  the buzzer rang from downstairs。

  “Who’s there?” I called to John by holding down the button。

  “Mr。 Fineman is here to see Ms。 Sachs;” he announced formally; 
  all Business now that other people were around。

  “Really? Um; great。 Send him up。”

  Lily looked at me and raised her eyebrows; and I realized that 
  once again we weren’t going to have this conversation。 “You 
  look psyched;” she said with obvious sarcasm。 “Not exactly 
  thrilled that your boyfriend is surprising you; are you?”

  “Of course I am;” I said defensively; and we both knew I was 
  lying。 Things with Alex had been strained the past few weeks。 
  Really strained。 We went through all the motions of being 
  together and we did it well: after almost four years; we 
  certainly knew what the other wanted to hear or needed to do。 
  But he’d pensated for all the time I spent at work by being 
  even more angelic at school—volunteering to coach; tutor; 
  mentor; and chair just about every activity someone could 
  think up—and the time we did actually see each other was about 
  as exciting as if we’d been married for thirty years。 We had 
  an unspoken understanding that we’d just wait things out until 
  my year of servitude was over; but I wouldn’t let myself think 
  about where the relationship might be headed then。

  But still。 That made two close people in my life—first Jill 
  (who’d called me out on the miserable state of affairs on the 
  phone the other night); and now Lily—who’d pointed out that 
  Alex and I were less than adorable together lately; and I had 
  to admit that Lily had; in her buzze
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