Chapter 1: The Proposition

The subtle glow of the fireplace cast flickering shadows across the room, its warmth contrasting with the sudden chill Andrea felt as she sat on the edge of the sleek leather couch. The evening had started like so many others — a quiet dinner, a few glasses of wine, and soft conversation about the day's work. But tonight, there was an undercurrent to Miranda's demeanor, a tension that Andrea had sensed but couldn't quite place. Now, sitting in their carefully curated home, the weight of Miranda's silence had become suffocating.

Andrea hadn't expected Miranda to bring up the conversation again, especially not like this. It had all started as casual banter over dinner a few weeks ago, when Andrea had mentioned Emily and Serena's new relationship dynamic — a shift that had taken Andrea by surprise, but in the world they lived in, wasn't entirely unheard of.

"Emily told me poly is the new thing," Andrea had said, her tone light, dismissing the topic as something fleeting. "Apparently, it's all over the junior division of her magazine. Something about keeping things fresh, exciting. You know how trends are."

Miranda had barely reacted at the time, only offering a faint hum of acknowledgment as she sipped her wine. It hadn't seemed like a big deal. But now, Andrea realized, Miranda had been thinking about it. A lot more than she'd let on.

Miranda sat across from her now, the cool glass of her wine resting against her fingers, but her attention was entirely fixed on Andrea. There was something unreadable in her eyes — a familiar intensity, but with an edge Andrea hadn't seen in a while.

"I've been thinking," Miranda began, her voice smooth, deliberate. "About what you said. About Emily and Serena."

Andrea's brow furrowed slightly, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. She hadn't thought much about it since that night. Sure, she still spoke to Emily and Serena regularly — they had remained close after all their professional ties had shifted. But she hadn't expected Miranda to latch onto that particular topic.

"About them opening up their relationship?" Andrea asked, trying to keep her tone neutral, though her pulse quickened. This felt more serious than a passing comment.

Miranda nodded, her eyes still locked on Andrea's, unblinking. "It's not just them, Andrea. It's a trend, one that's taking hold more than you might realize."

Andrea hesitated, sensing there was something more behind Miranda's words. "Are you… are you saying you think we should do the same?"

The faintest curve of a smile touched Miranda's lips, though it didn't reach her eyes. "I think it's something worth considering."

Andrea's stomach flipped. She hadn't been expecting this — not now, not ever, really. She had mentioned it in passing, sure, but she hadn't thought Miranda would take it seriously. She certainly hadn't considered the idea for their relationship.

"I don't… I didn't say I wanted that," Andrea said carefully, choosing her words with caution as she watched Miranda's expression for any sign of what she was truly thinking.

"No, you didn't," Miranda replied calmly. "But you haven't stopped thinking about it, have you?"

Andrea opened her mouth to protest but stopped herself. Had she been thinking about it? Maybe, on some subconscious level, the idea had lingered — Emily and Serena seemed happy enough, and there had been talk among her peers about how polyamory was "the new thing" in certain circles. But she hadn't really considered it for her and Miranda.

"Miranda, that's—" Andrea began, but Miranda cut her off with a gentle wave of her hand.

"You're young, Andrea," Miranda said softly, leaning forward slightly, her gaze never wavering. "You're vibrant. I see how you interact with your friends. With Emily, with Serena. And I know you. I know that part of you wonders if there's something more... something that could keep us from falling into routine."

Andrea's heart raced. She wanted to argue, to tell Miranda that their relationship didn't need anything like that, but Miranda's words struck something deep inside her — something she hadn't fully acknowledged. Their relationship had always been intense, passionate, but there had been moments lately where Andrea had sensed an underlying tension, a fear that things might become too settled, too predictable.

Miranda watched her carefully, as if reading the thoughts playing out in her mind. "I've always valued honesty between us," she continued, her voice low, deliberate. "Which is why I've taken the liberty of preparing something."

Andrea's eyes widened slightly as Miranda reached for a manila folder resting on the side table beside her. She slid it across the glass-topped coffee table toward Andrea, the weight of it thudding softly as it landed in front of her.

"What's this?" Andrea asked, her voice barely above a whisper, though she already had a sinking feeling in her chest.

Miranda's gaze softened, though there was still that sharp edge to her tone, one that always left Andrea feeling just a bit off-balance. "A contract," she said simply. "I had my lawyers draft it up."

Andrea stared at the folder as if it were something foreign, something dangerous. "Wait," she said, shaking her head slightly as she tried to catch up with the conversation. "I didn't say I wanted this. I didn't agree to—"

"I have eyes, Andrea," Miranda said, her voice firm but not unkind. "I know you better than you think."

Andrea blinked, her heart hammering in her chest. She looked down at the folder again, her fingers brushing against the edge of the paper as if it might burn her if she touched it. The reality of what Miranda was suggesting hit her in waves — the idea of opening their relationship, of bringing Emily and Serena into something that had been so intensely private between the two of them.

"Miranda…" Andrea began, her voice trailing off as she struggled to find the right words. "This is... I don't know what to say."

Miranda's expression softened ever so slightly, though her gaze remained steady. "I'm not asking you to decide right now," she said, her voice almost gentle. "But I need you to think about it. About what this could mean for us. For keeping things fresh, exciting."

Andrea exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of the conversation pressing down on her. She had always known that being with Miranda meant navigating uncharted territory — but this? This was more than she had ever anticipated.

"I don't want you to feel pressured," Miranda added, her tone soft but still firm. "This isn't about coercion. It's about exploring something new. Something that could bring us closer."

Andrea swallowed hard, her mind racing with a thousand different thoughts. Part of her wanted to push the folder away, to reject the idea outright, but another part of her — the part that had always been curious, always willing to explore the unknown — hesitated.

"I need time," Andrea said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

Miranda nodded, her expression calm but knowing. "Take all the time you need. But I trust you'll come to the right decision."

Andrea looked up at Miranda, her eyes searching for some clue, some hint of what Miranda truly wanted. But, as always, Miranda remained an enigma — composed, in control, always two steps ahead.

She stared at the folder again, the weight of Miranda's offer settling over her like a thick fog.

She stared at the folder again, the weight of Miranda's offer settling over her like a thick fog. Her fingers traced the edge of the manila folder, a sense of inevitability creeping up her spine. The contract sat between them like a barrier, something heavy and legal, yet it represented so much more than words on a page. Miranda wouldn't have taken this step if she hadn't thought it through, and that knowledge made Andrea's pulse quicken.

With a quiet exhale, Andrea flipped open the folder. The soft rustle of paper filled the room as she pulled out the contract, her eyes scanning the familiar legal jargon at the top — "Non-Disclosure Agreement," printed in bold, impersonal letters. But this was far from a typical NDA. This was something crafted specifically for the four of them, something deeply personal.

Her eyes drifted over the lines, her heartbeat slowing into a focused rhythm as she absorbed the details. It didn't take long for her to spot the names — Serena Griffiths, Emily Charlton, Miranda Priestly, and Andrea Sachs — each listed neatly on the second page, the signatures for Emily and Serena already present.

Andrea's stomach flipped at the sight of it. Miranda had done this — all of this — without her knowledge, without so much as a hint that these conversations had been happening. The contract was airtight, outlining confidentiality, outlining that all meetings — or encounters, as the document phrased them — would require all four of them present. Nothing could happen in secret; everything had to be open and transparent.

Her eyes flicked over the next clause, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her lips. No marks.

Andrea couldn't help the soft chuckle that escaped her. Of course, Miranda would have a clause like this. The idea of anyone leaving visible evidence of their involvement on her — or Andrea — was laughable, particularly given how possessive Miranda could be, even in private. She imagined Miranda had no intention of sharing her, at least not in a way that would feel too permanent or public.

Andrea skimmed further down the page, noting the meticulous care that had gone into the document. Each word was deliberate, each clause carefully considered. Miranda's fingerprints were all over it — and not just in the literal sense.

With a sigh, Andrea leaned back into the cushions, still holding the document in her hands. She wasn't surprised that Miranda had gone through the trouble of involving her legal team, but seeing it all laid out like this made it feel real. This wasn't just a passing fantasy or some flirtation with the idea of polyamory — Miranda had laid the groundwork for something far more structured, something that came with rules, boundaries, and consequences.

Andrea's gaze flicked back to the last page, where the signatures of Emily and Serena were neatly printed. She wondered how that conversation had gone, how Miranda had approached them. And why hadn't she been part of it?

Pushing herself up from the couch, Andrea made her way to where Miranda sat, still poised and unbothered, her eyes now fixed on the skyline outside the window. The city's lights cast a soft glow over her features, giving her an almost ethereal quality, but Andrea knew better than to mistake the calm for indifference. Miranda was waiting.

Andrea held up the contract. "Were you planning to consider anyone else besides Emily and Serena?"

Miranda's eyes flicked toward her, and for a moment, the faintest hint of a smile crossed her lips. "Absolutely not."

Andrea arched a brow, lowering the contract slightly. "You're sure?"

Miranda's gaze sharpened. "Andrea, you know me better than that. I have taste. And I doubt anyone else who might try to… glom onto us would meet those standards."

Andrea couldn't help but laugh at that, a short, incredulous sound. Of course, Miranda had already thought about it. She always had an answer for everything. "So, Emily and Serena. They're it?"

Miranda nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful. "They've already agreed. And I trust their judgment. This isn't something I take lightly."

Andrea stared at her, the calmness of Miranda's words clashing with the growing frustration simmering in her chest. She gripped the contract tighter, feeling the weight of what Miranda had done pressing down on her. It wasn't just the content of the proposal — it was the fact that Miranda had gone ahead without her. She had spoken to Emily and Serena, made arrangements, even drafted a contract, and then brought it to Andrea, expecting her to simply fall in line.

"You trust their judgment?" Andrea repeated, her voice low but sharp. Her pulse quickened, and she could feel the anger rising. "You trust their judgment, but you didn't even bother talking to me first?"

Miranda's brow furrowed slightly, the subtle shift in her expression the only indication that she had registered Andrea's tone. "Andrea—"

"No," Andrea interrupted, standing up from the couch, the contract still clutched in her hand. "I'd be fine with you bringing this idea to me, with the contract and the rules and whatever else you want to propose. But the fact that you approached them first? You made a decision without even talking to me. What was that about?"

Miranda's lips pressed into a thin line, her composure still intact, but Andrea could see the faint flicker of something in her eyes — surprise, maybe. Or calculation. "I approached them to ensure they were interested before presenting the idea to you. I didn't want to waste your time with something that might not have been feasible."

Andrea scoffed, shaking her head. "Feasible? That's what this is about? Feasibility?"

Miranda's expression remained cool, controlled, but Andrea could sense the shift in her demeanor — that subtle tightening in her posture, the faint narrowing of her eyes. "Andrea, this wasn't a decision I made lightly. I wanted to be sure that everyone involved was willing before—"

"Before talking to me?" Andrea cut her off again, her voice rising. "You don't get it, Miranda. It's not about whether or not they were willing. It's the fact that you went to them first. You made all these arrangements without me. You excluded me."

There it was — the real source of her anger. It wasn't just the contract, or the proposition, or even the idea of involving Emily and Serena. It was the fact that Miranda had gone behind her back, had made decisions about something so personal, so intimate, without involving her from the start.

Miranda's jaw tightened slightly, though her voice remained steady. "Andrea, I wasn't excluding you. I was making sure everything was in order before bringing you into the conversation."

Andrea laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Right. You were just 'taking care of things,' like you always do. Handling it all on your own, making decisions for everyone else, and expecting us to just go along with it. Do you realize how that feels? To know you talked to them before even thinking about how I'd feel?"

Miranda's eyes narrowed further, and her voice took on a sharper edge. "I was thinking about how you'd feel, Andrea. That's why I did it this way. To avoid unnecessary complications."

"Unnecessary complications?" Andrea repeated, her frustration boiling over. "I'm the unnecessary complication now?"

Miranda's gaze hardened, and for a moment, the air between them felt taut, charged with the tension of their clashing wills. "I never said that."

"But that's what you meant," Andrea shot back, her hands trembling slightly as she held the contract out in front of her. "You went ahead and did this because it was easier than talking to me. You didn't want to deal with how I might react, so you just handled it on your own. Like I don't have a say."

Miranda stood, her movements slow, deliberate, as she crossed the room to stand in front of Andrea. Her expression was unreadable, but her voice was calm, measured. "I did this for us, Andrea. To keep things... fresh. To ensure that our relationship evolves."

Andrea felt her breath catch in her throat. "Our relationship evolves? Or you just keep control over everything?"

Miranda's eyes flashed with something — anger, maybe, or something deeper. "This isn't about control. It's about us moving forward. You know as well as I do that relationships can stagnate if they aren't nurtured."

"And this is nurturing?" Andrea asked, her voice raw with emotion. "Bringing in other people without talking to me first?"

Miranda took a breath, her gaze steady but softer now, as though she realized just how deep Andrea's hurt went. "I'm offering you something new, something that could bring us closer."

Andrea shook her head, blinking back the sudden sting of tears. She could feel the weight of everything Miranda had done pressing down on her, the control Miranda always seemed to exert. But deep down, Andrea knew this wasn't just about control. It wasn't just about keeping things in order, or making sure nothing spiraled out of her grasp. There was something else underneath it all — something she had seen glimpses of before, in their quieter moments, in the therapy sessions they'd gone to when things had gotten tough.

She took a slow, steadying breath, forcing herself to think through the rush of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. This wasn't just about the contract or even about Emily and Serena. Miranda was afraid — Andrea could see it now, hidden beneath the layers of control and perfection that Miranda always maintained. She was terrified of something deeper, something that had nothing to do with polyamory or new trends.

"I know you did this because you're afraid," Andrea said softly, her voice steadier now, more grounded.

Miranda's eyes widened slightly, her posture stiffening. "Afraid?" she echoed, the word hanging in the air between them as though it didn't quite belong. Miranda wasn't one to acknowledge fear — not openly, at least. Fear was for other people, not for Miranda Priestly. Not for someone who had built an empire on control.

Andrea nodded, her gaze soft but unwavering. "Yeah, afraid. You don't want this to end up like your marriages."

Miranda's eyes flickered with something — surprise, maybe, or defensiveness — and for a moment, she didn't respond. Andrea could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers tightened ever so slightly on the armrest of the chair. It was a rare thing to see Miranda taken aback, but this was different. This was personal.

Miranda exhaled softly, her eyes dropping to her hands, where they rested in her lap. "They got bored," she said quietly, the admission raw, as though it had been scraped from some deep, hidden place inside her. "I didn't want you to... as well."

Andrea's heart clenched at the sight of Miranda — this version of her, not the composed, unflappable editor-in-chief, but someone vulnerable, someone who was afraid of being left behind. She had never seen Miranda like this, not really, and the weight of it hit her hard.

"Miranda," Andrea said gently, her voice softening as she stepped closer, "I'm not going to get bored. You don't have to worry about that."

Miranda's eyes stayed fixed on her hands, her fingers twisting slightly, as if she were trying to hold something together that was slipping through her grasp. "You're younger, Andrea," she said, her voice almost a whisper. "You're... vibrant. I see the way you move through the world. You have so much ahead of you, so much potential."

Andrea felt her throat tighten, not with anger this time, but with understanding. She hadn't realized just how much Miranda had been carrying — this fear of history repeating itself, of losing what they had because of something as simple as time, or as complicated as love.

"And you think I'll leave because... I'll get bored?" Andrea asked, her voice gentle.

Miranda didn't look up, but Andrea could see the faintest tremor in her hands, a sign of just how deeply this fear ran. "It's happened before," Miranda murmured, her voice low, as if she were confessing a long-held secret. "With Stephen. With John. They all got bored."

Andrea took another step forward, closing the distance between them, until she was standing right in front of Miranda. She crouched down, her hands resting lightly on Miranda's knees, forcing Miranda to meet her gaze.

"I'm not them," Andrea said firmly, her eyes searching Miranda's. "I'm not going to leave you because things get... routine. I love you, Miranda. You know that."

Miranda's eyes flickered with something unreadable, but she held Andrea's gaze now, the raw vulnerability in her expression stark and unguarded. "I don't want us to fall apart," she said, the words barely audible, as if speaking them out loud made them real. "I don't want you to wake up one day and realize you've outgrown this."

Andrea's chest tightened with empathy, her frustration from earlier dissipating as she saw just how much Miranda had been carrying on her own. She had always known Miranda feared losing control, but this was something deeper. This was about losing Andrea.

"I get it," Andrea said softly, her hands gently squeezing Miranda's knees. "I understand why you'd worry. But this... this isn't the way to fix it. I'm not going to leave you just because our relationship changes over time."

Miranda swallowed hard, the tension in her body easing slightly as she let Andrea's words sink in. "I didn't know how else to protect what we have," she admitted, her voice so quiet it was almost drowned out by the crackle of the fire. "I thought if we tried something new, something... exciting, it would stop you from—"

"From leaving?" Andrea finished, her tone gentle but firm.

Miranda nodded, a barely perceptible movement, but one that spoke volumes.

Andrea let out a soft sigh, her heart aching at the sight of Miranda so unsure, so vulnerable. She had spent so long trying to understand the complexities of their relationship, and now, it felt like she was finally seeing the truth behind Miranda's actions.

"I'm not going anywhere," Andrea whispered, leaning forward slightly, her hands still resting on Miranda's knees. "I'm not like Stephen or John. I'm not going to get bored and leave."

Miranda's gaze softened, her eyes finally meeting Andrea's fully, and for the first time that night, there was a flicker of something other than control or fear in her expression. There was hope, fragile and tentative, but there nonetheless.

"I didn't mean to make you feel like I was cutting you out," Miranda said, her voice still quiet but steadier now. "I just... didn't want to lose you."

Andrea smiled faintly, her heart swelling with a mix of love and relief. "You won't. But you need to trust me. Talk to me. Don't just make decisions like this on your own."

Miranda nodded slowly, the weight of her fear and control slowly lifting as they sat there together, the contract forgotten for the moment. Andrea could feel the shift between them, the delicate balance of their relationship tipping back toward something softer, more open.

"Thank you," Miranda whispered, her voice barely audible, but it was enough.

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Preview of next chapter:

Miranda's lips curved into a satisfied smile as Andrea let out a soft gasp, her body reacting involuntarily to the new stimulation. "You like that," Miranda murmured, her voice low, a hint of amusement in her tone.

Andrea could only nod, her breath coming in short, uneven bursts as Miranda's hands continued their slow exploration. It was a different kind of intimacy — not the usual rush of passion, but something more deliberate, more calculated. Miranda was in control, and she was savoring every second of it.