Title: How to Become a DragonMaster
Fandom: The Devil Wears Prada
Pairing: Miranda Priestly/Andrea Sachs
Word Count: ~10965
Summary: After walking away from Miranda in Paris, Andy decides to make her way on her own terms and finds professional success in an unexpected way. This is her story. Question is, will it end the way she wants it to?
Archive: Only with permission
Disclaimer: Not mine. They belong to Lauren Weisberger and 20th Century Fox. No copyright infringement intended and no money being made.
A/N1: Those who know me will be surprised to see me dabble in this fandom, but this is a gift for someone. This also became a POV exercise. I've never written a story, especially one this long, and tried to keep it completely from one character's POV – something for which I place the blame entirely on Jazzy, for some reason. *lol* As such, this is very much an Andy-centric story.
A/N2: A very special thank you to Jazwriter for the outstanding beta work on this story. I can't thank you enough!
Dedication: This is for Quiethearted. Happy New Year.
How to Become a DragonMaster
"You know, in case you were wondering, the person whose calls you always take, that's the relationship you're in. I hope you two are very happy together."
Andy softly sighed as Nate's words echoed in her mind. "He couldn't have been more wrong," she muttered.
Andy turned to the person sitting in the airplane seat next to her. "Sorry. Just talking to myself, I'm afraid."
"Well you know what they say, dear," the older lady said with a kind smile. "It's only when you start answering yourself that you have to worry."
Andy returned the woman's smile and nodded before closing her eyes and laying her head back. Her flight was scheduled to land back in New York at JFK International at 6:40pm, though it was going to feel more like 2:40am, and it had already been a rather long and emotional rollercoaster of a day.
After taking a whole week to luxuriate (and recuperate) in the decadence of sleeping late, lounging around her apartment in her pajamas, and indulging only in food that tasted sinfully good, Andy got up, dressed, and with resume in hand, hit the streets of New York in search of new employment.
Unless Miranda Priestly had blacklisted her, and there was no reason to think Andy was important enough to Miranda to warrant even a moment's thought or the effort to do so, Andy was reasonably confident she would find a new job. After all, she had been the editor-in-chief of the Daily Northwestern, won a national competition for college journalists, graduated from Northwestern University at the top of her class, and had been accepted to Stanford Law School. In other words, Andrea Sachs wasn't one to give up or accept defeat. She knew about hard work and perseverance.
She also knew there was often more than one way to get something done. Working as Miranda Priestly's second assistant had only been a means to an end... and not the only means to that end. It had merely been the first job that she'd been offered. Granted, she had sent out a lot of letters, and it wasn't until she'd heard from Elias-Clarke that she'd gotten an interview, but she'd since learned a thing or two while working for Miranda Priestly.
Andy stood when her name was called and followed the woman back to her office. After a number of job interviews with New York newspapers and magazines, she was now at a temporary employment agency. In the smallish office she sat on an uncomfortably hard chair before Ms. Woodrow's desk as she waited for the woman to review her file. Finally, dark eyes peered at her over the frames of reading glasses.
"With your qualifications I don't see why you haven't managed to acquire a job on your own since graduating."
"I did," Andy replied softly. "I worked for several months at Elias-Clarke."
Ms. Woodrow sat back in her chair. "Yes, I saw that in your paperwork." She paused for a long beat. "But what you did not indicate was that you were at Runway and worked as a personal assistant to none other than Miranda Priestly. Why did you leave that detail out?"
Andy felt her stomach do a flip-flop as she drew a steadying breath. "I learned a lot at Runway, but in the end I..." She took another steadying breath before continuing. "I messed up in the end. I quit without notice."
"So are you saying we should expect a negative reference from Runway?"
"Actually, I've been told that Miranda has given me a good reference." Andy noted a wry twist at the corner of Ms. Woodrow's mouth.
"Indeed she has. Which only serves to confuse me all the more. With a reference like that from Miranda Priestly, you should be able to get a job at any publishing house in the city without the help of this agency."
This time Andy couldn't hold back her sigh as that fateful conversation with Miranda replayed in her mind. That conversation that made her realize she could not continue to work for Miranda, despite the fact that she'd fallen in love with the older woman.
"I couldn't do what you did to Nigel, Miranda. I couldn't do something like that."
"Hmm... You already did... to Emily."
"That's not what I... No that–that was different. I didn't have a choice–"
"Oh, no, you chose. You chose to get ahead. You want this life, those choices are necessary."
"But what if this isn't what I want? I mean, what if I don't want to live the way you live?"
"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Andréa. Everybody wants this. Everybody wants to be us."
Andy would not compromise herself or her values to get ahead. She had to make her way on her own terms. "I know. But I want a job that Miranda Priestly has absolutely nothing to do with my obtaining, either directly or indirectly."
Ms. Woodrow flipped to another page of the paperwork. "Which would explain why you do not want us to send you on any jobs to the Mirror, the Post, the Wall Street Journal, or any of the Hearst publications, despite the fact that you want to be a journalist."
Andy could feel her cheeks burn with her blush, but she held her tongue.
"Look, Ms. Sachs, I don't know what happened between you and Miranda Priestly, or precisely why you feel so strongly about not capitalizing on her good reference, but I can tell you that you are severely handicapping yourself. The publishing industry is a small world, be it fashion or hard news." She paused to see if Andy might change her mind. Getting no response, she continued.
"As a temporary employment agency, all of our clients require us to ensure our employees meet certain criteria, that we prescreen, check references, et cetera. So while I have reviewed your file and checked your references, any client I send you to for an assignment will not be aware of your history with Miranda Priestly at Runway unless you choose to tell them. If you can live with that I'm sure we can put you to some kind of work in no time, as long as you understand it won't be in publishing. It's extremely rare for an assignment in publishing to come up. Whether a client decides to offer you a permanent position will be determined based on your performance as a temp. You'll earn any permanent job based on your own merit."
Andy smiled. "That's all I want, Ms. Woodrow."
"Okay. See Fran out front. She'll give you the paperwork required to have your drug test done. Once that comes back, we'll see about getting you started as soon as possible."
Andy picked up the paperwork from Fran and went straight to the lab the agency used. From there she walked down the street, just taking in the hustle and atmosphere of the city. There was something about New York that spoke to her, despite having grown up in the Midwest, an energy that just couldn't be replicated in any other place on earth.
Before she realized it, Andy was across the street from the Elias-Clarke building. She glanced up, her eyes unerringly drawn to the floor occupied by Runway. Having set her new course professionally, she felt a new peace. And it inspired her to settle a few things on a personal level as well. She opened her cell phone.
"Miranda Priestly's office."
"Hey, Emily, it's Andy. Don't hang up. I have a favor to ask you."
After helping Roy load all of the clothes she'd brought back from Paris into the car to take to Emily, Andy couldn't keep from grinning and letting out a chuckle of delight. Even though Emily had tried to sound put out, Andy had been able to hear the smile in her voice. She gave Roy a quick hug before heading back into her apartment. While Andy's taste in clothing and eye for fashion had definitely improved, she really didn't have a need for the haute couture that she'd acquired during Paris Fashion Week.
With a glance at her watch, Andy grabbed her purse and headed out. She had finally managed to talk Lily into meeting her at the Mayrose Café for coffee.
Andy was already seated and sipping her coffee when Lily arrived. She saw her friend stop and pause, gazing at the café's exterior for a couple of seconds before finally moving to the entrance. The Mayrose had always been a favorite place for their little group of friends, Andy, Nate, Lily, and Doug. She saw conflicting emotions pass behind Lily's eyes as her friend approached the table and sat down across from her.
They both remained silent until the waitress poured Lily's coffee and left them alone.
"Lily–" "I'm sor–" they started, and stopped, simultaneously. They exchanged nervous smiles.
"You go ahead," said Andy.
Staring into her coffee, Lily took a steadying breath. "I'm sorry. I should have never come down on you like I did that night at the gallery, accusing you like that. I know you'd never cheat on Nate." She finally looked up and met Andy's eyes. "I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry, too."
"For letting my job take over so much of my life. I don't regret working for Miranda. But I am sorry I didn't manage my time better, that I missed out on some things with you and Nate and Doug."
"You've changed," Lily said softly.
"Yes, and no," Andy replied. "I'm still me, Lily. But I've learned a lot and grown up a little. Things aren't always black and white, right or wrong..." She let out a soft sigh. "And sometimes they are. I never cheated on Nate; however, I did know we were growing apart, and I didn't do anything about it."
"Because it was becoming apparent how little we really had in common."
"So, I take it you're not going to be spending any time up in Boston then."
Andy shook her head. "No."
"It's okay. Nate and I talked; we're good. We're friends, but that's it."
The two women talked and relaxed as they reestablished the connection and camaraderie of their 16-year friendship.
Several days after her interview with Ms. Woodrow, Andy received a call from her.
"Ms. Sachs? This is Ms. Woodrow with the Piccolo Agency."
"We received the result of your drug test so we can get you started working. Can you come into the office this afternoon?"
"Sure. What time?"
"I'll be there. See you then."
Ms. Woodrow smiled when Andy walked into her office. "Good afternoon."
"Good afternoon," Andy replied as she sat down.
"I had an assignment in mind for you, Ms. Sachs, but I had a new and rare request come in from a client this morning, after I spoke with you. It's not exactly the most exciting assignment in the world, but it is with a publishing company." She gave a small shrug. "You never know what can happen if you do well in the assignment."
"What is it?"
"Proofreader. The assignment is with Tom Doherty Associates, specifically on the Tor Books side of the house. Are you familiar with them?"
"They publish sci-fi/fantasy books. I've bought plenty of their titles," she said with nod. "For my boyfriend, not me," she quickly added. "But for a job, I'll read all the sci-fi they want me to," she said with a genuine smile.
"Good. You'll start in the morning." Ms. Woodward handed Andy a sheet of paper with all of the pertinent information on it.
The next morning Andy reported to Tom Doherty Associates. She was shown to a small, windowless office which she shared with Katy Towler who explained the job. Or perhaps more accurately, explained what the job didn't entail. As the woman droned on in a rather imperious tone, Andy couldn't help but compare Katy to Emily and smile at the similarities of the two Brits.
"Proofreading and editing are fundamentally separate responsibilities. Thinking like an editor will only slow you down, and no one here expects or appreciates an intrusive proofreader. So, to sum up – questions of fact, interpretation, grammar, syntax, and literary style are not your responsibility. Got it?"
Andy soon found that it was much easier said than done to ignore anything but actual typos. Each time she came across an error in grammar, she had to tell herself to ignore it and move on, no matter how much it grated on her nerves.
For nearly eight weeks she reported to that small, windowless office, sitting and reading in silence, only sharing conversation with Katy and other coworkers during breaks and lunch. From what little she did learn about her officemate, Katy Towler was born in England but had moved to the States when she was fifteen. Her dream was to be a successful, young adult fantasy novelist like Stephanie Meyer – whose second book, New Moon, had been released the past year. Personally, Andy thought Katy should choose someone with more talent and skill to emulate – perhaps someone like J.K. Rowling, if she wanted to write young adult fantasy.
As for the work, it was tedious and not at all challenging, but it did pay the rent. And once in a while, though not often enough, she found the material she was proofreading interesting and almost entertaining.
Andy stifled a yawn as she reached for her coffee cup with her left hand while she made a mark with the red pen in her other hand on the page she was reviewing.
She startled at the unexpected sound of someone addressing her. She looked up and saw a petite brunette standing in the doorway of the office. Though the woman couldn't be more than 5'1" in her heels, she exuded an air of quiet authority. A quick glance at Katy only served to reinforce that impression since Katy was clearly trying to fade into the woodwork and not be seen by the newcomer.
"I'm Andy," she replied.
"I'm Sofia Padretti, the HR manager. Come with me."
The look on Katy's face as Andy stood was one of 'better you than me,' but Andy simply gave her an almost imperceptible shrug. She had no idea why HR would want to see her. She silently followed Sofia to the elevator.
Alone in the elevator, Sophia turned to Andy. "I've heard good things about your work here, Andrea."
Not sure where the conversation was going, Andy simply smiled and said, "Thank you."
"Harriet told me you'd be a good one to keep an eye on."
"Oh! From the Piccolo Agency."
Sofia smiled and nodded. "I go to her whenever I need someone for a temp position. I always know she'll send someone good." She paused for a beat. "And she gives me a heads up when there's someone I should keep an eye on, someone like you," she finished with a smile just as the elevator opened.
Andy followed Sofia down the hallway and into a spacious corner office.
"Have a seat, Andrea."
She sat in one of the chairs in front of Sofia's desk.
"I've reviewed your resume, and Harriet has told me your references are solid. You're overqualified for the work you're doing here, but if you want to become a permanent, full-time employee, if you want your foot in the door, the job is yours."
Andy grinned. "Yes, I'd like that."
"Good." Sofia opened a folder with the appropriate paperwork.
Katy seemed more than a little surprised to see Andy return to the office unscathed. "What did Padretti want? You know her family is Sicilian, right? You don't want to upset a Sicilian, if you know what I mean."
Andy couldn't help laughing at Katy's paranoia. She didn't know if Sofia was Sicilian or not, but she couldn't imagine anyone wielding more fear in an office environment than Miranda Priestly. "It's okay, Katy; she's not mad at me. In fact, she offered me a permanent position. I'm no longer a temp."
Having a permanent full-time job was a relief. While it was a rather boring job, at least she was officially employed with a publisher. She had her foot in the door. And, she'd made a new friend. It turned out that Sofia Padretti may have had some ancestors that came from Sicily, but Sofia was actually from Cincinnati and an OSU graduate. As a Buckeye, she was a "friendly" nemesis to Andy's NU Wildcats. That, however, would not prevent them from becoming friends.
"What the hell is this?!"
Andy stopped short as she re-entered the office she shared with Katy. "What are you doing going through my desk?" she demanded.
"I ran out of paperclips. I was just going to borrow a couple before grabbing a box during my next break. Now, answer my question." Katy dropped a thick folder on top Andy's desk. "What the hell is this?"
"It's nothing to concern yourself about. It's just a little exercise I'm doing. Don't worry – I'm doing it on my own time." Andy walked over to her desk, picked up the folder, and replaced it in her top drawer as she sat down.
"That is a copy of the Munson manuscript."
"Yes, it is."
"The deadline for proofreading that was last Tuesday."
"I know. And I turned it in last Monday."
"Then what are you still doing with it?"
"I made a copy for myself."
"I told you – it's an exercise."
"In what? Literary espionage? Are you going to scan it and put it out on the internet?!"
"Oh for– Of course not, Katy."
"Then what the hell are you doing with it?"
"I'm editing it, okay?
"It's already been edited."
"Not very well," Andy muttered.
Andy let out a long sigh. "Look, I know the book was already edited, but as I proofread it there were so many things I saw that could have been done better. There were grammar errors, phrasing that if tweaked just a little bit, would have made a huge difference."
"But that has nothing to do with your job as a proofreader."
"I know that. But I don't want to always be a proofreader. I'm just using this manuscript to practice a little editing, to see if I can improve it... not as part of my job, but as an exercise to expand and polish my skill set."
The phone on Andy's desk rang. A rare enough occurrence that both she and Katy stared at it for a moment before she answered it.
"Andy Sachs... Yes, sir... I'll be right there."
"Who was that?" Katy asked after Andy hung up the phone.
"Eric Callaghan. He wants to see me."
"Callaghan? From the editing department?"
"I guess. He didn't say what department he was in, just to report to his office."
Andy headed out of the office and took the elevator up three floors. She knocked on the door that had Callaghan's name on the door and opened it when she heard the voice inside tell her to "Come in."
"You must be Andy Sachs. Come in and have a seat."
"So, what did you want to see me about, Mr. Callaghan?"
He reached down and retrieved something from a lower desk drawer and then dropped it on his desk. "I understand you might be familiar with this."
She looked at the book on the desk top – In the Land of the Syngi – the latest book by J.D. Munson.
Andy nodded. "I was one of the proofreaders on that project."
Callaghan nodded. "It's not selling as well as we'd hoped." He paused. "But maybe it would be getting better reviews if it had been edited better." He suddenly dropped a thick file on his desk – a file that Andy recognized.
Andy felt herself blanch.
"I've read this," Callaghan said, indicating the manuscript she'd edited as an exercise. "If we'd published this version, I dare say it would be selling much better." He gazed at her a moment. "You are clearly being wasted in proofreading."
"H-How did you..."
He smiled. "Someone who read it brought it to my attention."
Andy was more than pleased with the promotion she'd received. Not only did it come with a raise, but she got to work in an office that had a window, too. As Eric Callaghan's editorial assistant, Andy was responsible for liaising with the editorial board and publishing committee, acting as the in-house representative for out-of-house editors, ensuring deadlines and schedules were kept, overseeing books transmitted to production, and plenty of other responsibilities that helped her learn more about book publishing than she ever could have learned in a classroom.
Her duties kept her much busier than proofreading ever did, but she enjoyed it immensely. Even so, she would still occasionally make a copy of a manuscript now and then and try her hand at editing. It was interesting to compare her edited version to the official, edited version when it was done.
Andy quickly discovered which editors on staff had a real talent for the work and which ones just went through the motions. She used that knowledge to help make sure the newer, less experienced authors were assigned to the more conscientious editors.
As July 4th weekend approached, Andy found herself confined to her apartment, violently ill from a particularly bad stomach virus. Nothing she ate stayed down. She was so sick, it was all she could do to keep herself from getting too dehydrated. Lily stopped by each evening to make sure she was still alive, but mostly, Andy just slept for the better part of two weeks.
When she finally returned to work, Andy found the resulting pileup of work to be not quite as bad as she'd expected. Eric had had someone cover for her while she was out, so the most urgent of matters had been handled. She would be playing catch-up with quite a bit of stuff, but nothing was in immediate danger of missing a deadline.
At least that's what she thought until she got to the bottom of her in-basket, where found the Lamarche manuscript. "Oh, no!"
Andy looked up to see Jennie, the college intern that had been filling in for Andy, enter. "This manuscript should have been sent to prepress this past Friday! It hasn't even been completely edited and through proofreading, yet!"
"Which manuscript is it?"
"It's by a new author – Darcy Lamarche." Andy sagged in her chair with a heavy sigh, "What am I going to tell Eric?"
"Oh! That was a really good book," Jennie said excitedly. "And there's nothing to worry about. I sent the manuscript to prepress four days ahead of schedule."
"What? How did you manage that?"
"I found the edited manuscript on your desk the first day I covered for you, so I sent it to proofreading. As soon as it came back, I forwarded it," Jennie said with a shrug. "I was a little confused at first since it was in a purple binder and all the edited manuscripts are supposed to be in blue binders, but I had Mr. Callaghan check it out, and he said it was definitely edited. So, he told me to go ahead, put it in a blue binder and send it to proofreading. It, of course, came back from proofreading in the usual green binder, so I knew it was okay to send it to prepress. And even though it came back early, I went ahead and sent it. Mr. Callaghan said it was–"
Andy was still recovering from her extended bout with the stomach virus, and so had stopped listening to the young college girl as she babbled. But then some of what Jennie had been going on about finally sunk in and she cut her off. "Wait. Did you say purple binder?"
"Yeah. The manuscript was in a purple binder instead of a blue binder. But Mr. Callaghan checked it and said it was edited. I changed the binder to a blue one and sent it on to proofreading."
Andy looked at the red binder in her hands, the color indicating it still needed to be edited. She used purple binders on the manuscripts she practiced on since none of the departments used them. No one would mistake a purple binder for something that was part of production.
"Oh, no," she moaned.
Just then Eric arrived. "Good morning, Andy. I'm glad to you're feeling better. We missed you around here. Jennie held down the fort while you were out, and she's here today to help you get caught up. If you need anything, just let me know, okay?"
"Actually, I do need to talk to you about something."
Eric looked at his watch. "Okay. I've got time now. Come on in," he said with a genuine smile and a polite gesture toward his office door.
Andy preceded her boss into his office and sat in one of the chairs in front of his desk, nervously waiting for him to take his seat.
He sat down and smiled at her. "It really is good to have you back, Andy. I was worried about you."
"Thank you. I'm sorry I was out for so long."
He waved off her apology. "Don't worry about it. It certainly wasn't your fault. Now, what did you want to talk to me about?"
Andy drew a steadying breath. "It's about the Lamarche manuscript..."
Eric nodded. "I'm particularly pleased with that one. A good new author and skilled editing. It's going to do very well."
She felt her stomach drop. How was Eric going to react when she told him? "About that..."
"The manuscript was never sent to an editor. What you saw... the purple binder was mine."
Andy was surprised to see her boss smile widely.
"What? You didn't think I didn't know, did you?" he asked good-naturedly. "I knew you had edited it as soon as I saw the purple binder." He paused for a beat. "And I told you months ago that your talents were being wasted. I have an opening for an editor, Andy; it's yours if you want it."
It quickly became apparent that Andy had a real talent as an editor. Borderline manuscripts became good under her red pen, and good manuscripts became great. Experienced authors recognized a kindred creative soul and appreciated her honest feedback, while inexperienced authors benefited from her patience and gentle but firm guidance.
No matter how good Andy was at her job or how much she loved it, editing still didn't quite scratch a particular itch, the itch that had driven her to earn a degree in journalism at college. The itch that had made her walk away from acceptance by Stanford Law School. Andy was a writer; she needed to write. While working at Runway for Miranda, she really hadn't had the time to write. And after she left Runway, Andy hadn't felt the creative urge to write. She'd been too emotionally off-balance and battered. However, after a year and a half away from the insanity of Runway, a year and a half spent checking and correcting and shaping the creative works of others, that itch was returning.
Andy had always leaned towards the gathering and reporting of facts in her writing, which was why journalism had suited her so well in college. She had enjoyed the investigative aspect, digging deeper to find the hidden truths. But after having worked with some truly talented and very creative people in her current job, she was finding her mind wandering back to her creative writing classes with a certain fondness and nostalgia. Of course, she also found herself feeling like she had very little time to actually sit down and write anything. As a skilled and popular editor, she was just as busy now as she had been while working at Runway.
"You know, some days I swear I could write a better a book in my sleep than some of the stuff that crosses my desk," she muttered under her breath as she headed into the break room. She desperately needed some caffeine, and it was time for her morning break which she usually shared with Katy, Sofia, and a couple of others.
"So put your money where your mouth is."
The challenging tone of Katy's statement made Andy suddenly look up from where she was refilling her coffee mug. "What?"
"Don't give me that look, Andy. I have heard you say since the day you started here as a temp that you could write something better than some of the stuff you've proofread or edited. And I'm saying it's bloody well time for you to prove it."
Andy opened her mouth to explain she really didn’t have the time, but saw by the jut of her chin that Katy wasn’t going to back down. Since Andy had found out that Katy had turned in Andy’s edited version of the Munson manuscript to Callaghan, they had become good friends. Andy knew that Katy could be rather stubborn when she thought she was right. Like now.
"She has a point, Andy," Sofia agreed with an amused smirk. "We've heard you tossing around plot ideas for a long time. Take one and run with it. Show us how you can write something superior to what you've been editing and proofreading. Time to put up or shut up."
She did have a four day weekend scheduled. Andy had planned to cancel it and work, but... Not one to back down from a challenge, particularly not one that had been so publically thrown at her like a gauntlet at her feet, Andy felt her spine stiffen as she steadily met first Katy's gaze and then Sofia's. "Okay, I will." She smirked. "If only to get you two to shut up," she said with a chuckle.
The first thing you must realize is that there is no "master" in a dragon/rider relationship. If you don't display the same strength of character as your dragon, you will quickly find yourself on the receiving end of flaming dragon's breath, scorched physically as well as emotionally. By the same token, if you try to dominate your dragon, you will find yourself standing alone as your dragon seeks a rider elsewhere.
It is only through courage, compassion, trust, and respect that you can develop the requisite partnership with your dragon to become a DragonMaster and join the DragonCorps.
Andy was surprised at how quickly the words filled her screen once she sat down and started typing. She was actually smiling as she spun the tale of a young heroine and her dragon as they joined the DragonCorps, had adventures, fought the good fight, and won the day while learning a few lessons about life and love along the way. It may not have been an investigative piece on the janitor's union, but it was fun and fanciful and something that appealed to her inner whimsy.
By the end of her long weekend, she had a novel – a fantasy novel, something she'd never thought she'd write. It had been a fun exercise of her writing muscles.
But now what? She sighed. Now nothing. She dropped the printed out manuscript on the coffee table and headed to bed. She had to get up bright and early to get back to work in the morning.
"Is there anything else we need to discuss today?" asked Charles Weatherly, the managing editor, during the editorial board's weekly meeting.
"Yes," replied Aimee Schaffer. She tapped a folder on the table in front of her. "I've got a manuscript here that we really need to publish."
Charles shrugged. "So what's the problem? You're a senior acquisitions editor, Aimee. You have the authority to make the deal."
"The problem is I don't know where the manuscript came from, and I don't know who the author is."
"How in the world does that happen?" Charles held up his hand to forestall any answers to his question. "Okay. Give a copy to each of the department heads who will review it to see whether they recognize the writing style if not the manuscript itself." He looked at Andy. "Please take Eric's copy and see that he gets it, Andy."
When the meeting came to a close, Andy gathered her notes together, accepted an interoffice envelope with an excerpt of the manuscript for her boss to review, and headed back to her office.
This entry was originally posted at http://dhamphir.dreamwidth.org/187205.html.