Revenge Wears Prada: The Devil Returns by Lauren Weisberger

Author:Lauren Weisberger
Language: eng
Format: mobi, azw3, epub, pdf
ISBN: 9780007311019
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Published: 2013-06-04T04:00:00+00:00

chapter 14

miranda priestly all but called you gorgeous

Andy laughed as Emily white-knuckled the chair’s armrests and gingerly lowered herself into the front-row, courtside seat.

Emily shot her a look. “I don’t know what you’re laughing at. At least I’m only injured, not huge.”

Andy looked down at her belly, now solidly rounded and unquestioningly obvious at five months along, and nodded, smiling. “I’m huge.”

“These seats are like Jay-Z style,” Emily said, looking around. Max and Miles were sitting courtside on the player’s bench watching warm-ups, in guy heaven. Their heads turned as each seven-foot-something player ran, shot, dribbled, and dunked. “Every now and then, Miles actually comes through with something good.”

“I wish I cared the least bit about the Knicks or basketball in general,” Andy said, rubbing her belly. “I feel like we don’t really appreciate it.”

The crowd behind them roared when Carmelo Anthony ran onto the court for his warm-up.

“Please,” Emily said, rolling her eyes. “I’m here for the front-row VIP experience, and you’re here for the food. So long as we’re clear on that, it’s fine.”

Andy shoved a forkful of truffled mac and cheese into her mouth. “You should really have some of this . . .”

Emily blanched.

“What? Doctor’s orders to gain thirty pounds . . .”

“Isn’t that for the whole nine months and not just the first half?” Emily asked, looking at Andy’s piled-high plate in disgust. “I mean, I’m no pregnancy expert, but you look clear on your way to pulling a Jessica Simpson.”

Andy smiled. She’d been enjoying the occasional extra cupcake and slice of pizza now that the nausea had subsided, yes. It definitely wasn’t only her belly that was looking bigger either—both her face and her butt had filled and rounded out—but she knew it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Only when she was talking to Emily, who still referred to pregnant women as “fat” or “really packing it on,” did she even think about it. Andy had come to accept that her only real pleasure these days came from food and that no one ever looked at a pregnant woman and thought she was large or small, fat or thin, even tall or short; she was just pregnant.

The guys turned around and waved; Emily winced as she waved back and touched her abdomen. “Christ, this hurts. And no decent painkillers! A few losers go and get themselves hooked on Oxy, and it means a lifetime of Advil for the rest of us.”

“I told you it was crazy to come tonight. Who goes to Madison Square Garden the week they discharge you from the hospital?”

“What was I supposed to do?” Emily asked, genuinely puzzled. “Sit home in my pajamas and watch a Lifetime movie when you’re all here? Besides”—she nodded toward the front row across the court—“I wouldn’t see Bradley Cooper at home.”

“And he wouldn’t be able to admire your golden tan,” Andy said.

Emily ran her fingertips across her cheekbones. “Exactly.”

The New Year’s trip to the island of Vieques with Emily and Miles had been

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