The Devil Wears Prada Collection: The Devil Wears Prada, Revenge Wears Prada

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Lauren Weisberger. The Devil Wears Prada Collection: The Devil Wears Prada, Revenge Wears Prada

The Devil Wears Prada. Revenge Wears Prada. Lauren Weisberger

The Devil Wears Prada. Lauren Weisberger

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Acknowledgments

Revenge Wears Prada. Lauren Weisberger

1. as long as she lived

2. learning to love the hamptons: 2009

3. you’re walking, sister

4. and it’s official!

5. i’d hardly call it dating

6. writing the obit doesn’t make it true

7. boys will be boys

8. no david’s bridal, no baby’s breath, no dyeable shoes of any kind

9. virgin piñas all around

10. one half of a robe made for two

11. more or less famous than beyoncé?

12. trumped-up harassment charges plus a straitjacket or two

13. i could easily be dead by then

14. miranda priestly all but called you gorgeous

15. i’m here to tell you that not not-trying is trying

16. give him a test drive

17. james bond meets pretty woman, with a little dash of mary poppins

18. stop talking and step away

19. ceviche and snakeskin: a night of terror

20. a shipping container of botox

21. in your own best interest

22. details, details

23. cougar mama to a golden-bronze man-boy

24. that’s all

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Also by Lauren Weisberger

Copyright

About the Publisher

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Table of Contents

Title Page

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‘YOU!’ I heard from somewhere behind me. ‘STAND UP SO I CAN GET A LOOK AT YOU!’

I turned just in time to see the man, who was at least seven feet tall, with tanned skin and black hair, pointing directly at me. He had 250 pounds stretched over his incredibly tall frame and was so muscular, so positively ripped, that it looked as though he might just explode out of his denim … catsuit? Ohmigod! He was wearing a catsuit. Yes, yes, a denim, one-piece catsuit with tight pants and a belted waist and rolled-up sleeves. And a cape. There was actually a blanket-size fur cape tied twice around his thick neck, and shiny black combat boots the size of tennis rackets adorned his mammoth feet. He looked around thirty-five years old, although all the muscles and the deep tan and the positively chiseled jawbone could have been hiding ten years or adding five. He was flapping his hands at me and motioning for me to get up off the floor. I stood, unable to take my eyes off him, and he turned to examine me immediately.

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