Read Online The Devil Wears Prada by Lauren Weisberger - Free Book Online

eyeliner. No one batted an eye. We’d had gay groups on
campus, and I had a few friends who’d come out the past few years, but
none of them looked like this. It was like being surrounded by the entire cast
and crew ofRent —with better costumes, of course.
     
     The
women, or rather the girls, were individually beautiful. Collectively, they
were mind-blowing. Most appeared to be about twenty-five, and few looked a day
older than thirty. While nearly all of them had enormous, glimmering diamonds
on their ring fingers, it seemed impossible that any had actually given birth
yet—or ever would. In and out, in and out they walked gracefully on
four-inch skinny heels, sashaying over to my desk to extend milky-white hands
with long, manicured fingers, calling themselves “Jocelyn who works with
Hope.”
    “Nicole
from fashion,” and “Stef who oversees accessories.” Only one,
Shayna, was shorter than five-nine, but she was so petite it seemed impossible
for her to carry another inch of height. All weighed less than 110 pounds.
     
     As I sat
in my swivel chair, trying to remember everyone’s name, the prettiest
girl I’d seen all day swooped in. She wore a rose-colored cashmere
sweater that looked like it was spun from pink clouds. The most amazing, white
hair swirled down her back. Her six-one frame looked as though it carried only
enough weight to keep her upright, but she moved with the surprising grace of a
dancer. Her cheeks glowed, and her multi-carat, flawless diamond engagement
ring emanated an incredible lightness. I thought she’d caught me staring
at it, since she flung her hand under my nose.
     
     “I
created it,” she announced, smiling at her hand and looking at me. I
looked to Emily for an explanation, a hint as to who this might be, but she was
on the phone again. I thought the girl was referring to the ring, meant that
she had actually designed it, but then she said, “Isn’t it a
gorgeous color? It’s one coat Marshmallow and one coat Ballet Slipper.
Actually, Ballet Slipper came first, and then a topcoat to finish it off.
It’s perfect—light colored without looking like you painted your
nails with White Out. I think I’ll use this every time I get a
manicure!” And she turned on her heels and walked out.Ah, yes, a pleasure
to meet you, too, I mentally directed toward her back as she strutted away.
     
     I’d
been enjoying meeting all my coworkers; everyone seemed kind and sweet and,
except for the beautiful weirdo with the nail polish fetish, they all appeared
interested in getting to know me. Emily hadn’t left my side yet, seizing
every opportunity to teach me something. She provided running commentary on who
was really important, whom not to piss off, whom it was beneficial to befriend
because they threw the best parties. When I described Manicure Girl,
Emily’s face lit up.
     
     “Oh!”
she breathed, more excited than I’d heard her about anyone else yet.
“Isn’t she just amazing?”
     
     “Um,
yeah, she seemed nice. We didn’t really get a chance to talk, she was
just, you know, showing me her nail polish.”
     
     Emily
smiled widely, proudly. “Yes, well, you do know who she is, don’t
you?”
     
     I
wracked my brain, trying to remember if she looked like any movie stars or
singers or models, but I couldn’t place her. So, she was famous! Maybe
that’s why she hadn’t introduced herself—I was supposed to
recognize her. But I didn’t. “No, actually, I don’t. Is she
famous?”
     
     The
stare I received in response was part disbelief, part disgust. “Um,yeah,
” Emily said, emphasizing the “yeah” and squinting her eyes
as if to say,You total fucking idiot . “That is Jessica Duchamps.”
She waited. I waited. Nothing. “You do know who that is, right?”
Again, I ran lists through my mind, trying to connect something with this new
information, but I was quite sure I’d never, ever heard of her. Besides,
this game was getting