Countdown: 8 Months
"MARC!"
Marc heard the faint echo of his name through the tunnel and pictured Wilhelmina standing, hands on her desk, leaning over it as she bellowed. It's not as if he should be able to hear her – he wasn't her assistant anymore and his desk was down the tube in a completely different area, behind a glass door. But years of working for her had made his hearing extra perceptive – partly because he was terrified of making her holler twice and partly because good hearing was an asset when it came to eaves dropping. This call was a frustrated, upset one. The average person might not have been able to tell, but Marc could. Of course I didn't take a genius to figure that out…most of her bellows were when she was frustrated and upset…or angry. But the angry ones were lower pitched.
He immediately got up and ran to her office.
"Yes Willie?" He said as he bypassed her new assistant and poked his head in the door.
"Marc…please tell me that the rumours I've been hearing about Captain Nobody and his perky little minion are unfounded and false."
"Which Captain Nobody and minion would that be?" Marc asked although he guessed he could figure it out.
"Daniel and Betty." Wilhelmina hissed. "I just got off the phone with a reporter wanting to confirm that they are indeed…engaged?" She looked shocked and a little confused.
"Mmm-hmm." He was aware of it because Justin had called so excited last night and spilled the news to both him and Amanda.
"You knew, and you didn't tell me?" She was getting angry.
Marc entered her office and walked over to her desk.
"Willie, I didn't want to bother you with trite, meaningless information…you have enough important stuff to worry about."
"I do. But this isn't trite and meaningless."
"It's not?" Marc didn't understand. Willie wasn't sentimental at the best of times; surely she wasn't going to be about this.
"No, of course not. Like it or not, Daniel is still the face of Meade…at least the youngish one that doesn't look like it just crawled out of its crypt. And therefore - according to the press – at least partly, the face of Mode." She spit the last part out with much distaste.
"O…K…?" Marc still didn't understand.
"A wedding means fashion Marc. Everyone knows that. Fashion Television will be all over this godforsaken event like cheap leather on a dime-store dominatrix."
Marc made a disgusted face at the image that produced.
"And they'll be tying Mode to it." She finished.
"Mmm-hmm?" Marc still didn't get it.
"Don't be so thick, you idiot - Betty is the bride."
"Oooohhh." Marc pursed his lips as it registered.
"I know she doesn't always get it disastrously wrong anymore, but she's still Betty…it's a complete crap shoot. And anything she picks will be a direct reflection on Mode."
"You're absolutely right Willie, I never thought of that. Ugh…I can picture the bright pink frilly taffeta bridesmaids' gowns as we speak."
"Combined with god-awful paisley ties and cummerbunds…probably in clashing colours." Wilhelmina sighed.
"But Willie…Daniel is the groom, and his taste – at least in clothing – isn't half bad."
"True. But he's pathetic when he's in love – like a dog trying to please its master. He'll let her do anything she wants." Her tone was of definite frustration.
Marc nodded. "So…what can we do?"
Wilhelmina sat back down in her chair. "We need to run interference… a wedding planner or something."
"Pffft…Betty's so independent she'd probably never go for that." Marc said as he sat down in the chair on the opposite side of her desk.
"No…but she's sickeningly loyal and she might want to make a friend happy…a stylist friend…by letting her help." Wilhelmina suddenly sat up straighter and if he wasn't mistaken there was a hint of happy on her face but it was always so hard to tell.
"But…I thought we weren't doing any more scheming." Marc was looking for any excuse to circumvent this new ploy that she'd apparently just hatched.
"This isn't a scheme, Marc…it's a plan to avert a fashion disaster and save Mode's reputation. The Meades should be thanking me."
"Oh…" Marc was still not thrilled about this idea. "You know…Betty will probably want to do her own thing…and Amanda might be too busy."
"Marc! You and Amanda have wormed your way into some sort of… understanding…with Betty. Surely you can have some influence on both of them."
Marc practically begged. "Willie, please don't make me—"
"What is it? Why are you so opposed to this idea?"
He sighed. "A hetero wedding, pu-lease. And Betty's no less. If Amanda's working on it she'll be talking about it non-stop - probably asking my opinions even. I'll have to spend all my evenings thinking about it and the unholy union of…those two." He cringed.
"I don't want you to leave this in Amanda's hands…it's far too important."
He gasped. "What are you saying Willie?" He was fearful – this was starting to sound even worse than he originally suspected.
"I'm saying that Amanda will be the decoy, the fashion figurehead, in this ploy. But you need to approve all the fashion choices to make sure Mode doesn't end up looking utterly ridiculous."
"Willie…" It was a definite whine.
"Oh for heaven's sake Marc…be a man and take one for the team."
Marc went back to his desk in a considerably darker mood than he was originally in. He was commissioned now to talk to Amanda and suggest she offer to help Betty with the wedding planning and the fashion choices.
That evening he went home and moped on the couch simultaneously eating a pizza he'd picked up on the way and some candy bars he'd stolen from Amanda's stash in her underwear drawer. He didn't usually like to go in there but desperate times called for desperate measures…and these were desperate times.
As soon as Amanda walked into the apartment she knew something was wrong.
"Oh my God Marc…who died?"
"Huh…what?" Marc looked up from the television in a fat and sugar induced half-coma and realized Amanda was home.
"I asked who died. You're eating like a lonely girl again. Are those my candy bars?"
"I am a lonely girl Amanda…alone in my pathetic misery." Marc said, avoiding her question. "Willie wants me to convince you to help Betty plan her wedding, at least the fashion choices for it."
Amanda's face lit up - she was obviously excited.
"That would be amazing…I should totally ask Betty if she wants my help." She gasped as she thought of something. "The budget…can you imagine the money I could be working with. What a great idea!"
Marc nodded sadly and Amanda walked over to the fridge to grab a drink.
"But what's wrong with you? And why would Wilhelmina care if I helped plan Betty's wedding or not?" She asked as she slammed the fridge shut with her hip.
Marc proceeded to tell her about Wilhelmina's concerns for the wedding and Mode.
"I still don't get why you're so upset though." Amanda said.
"Willie wants me to oversee the entire thing…to approve all the fashion choices and make sure that ultimately Mode ends up coming out of it without looking bad. That means I'll have to live and breathe this event for the next several months."
Amanda nodded sympathetically.
Later that same evening Amanda and Marc were connected with Betty on Skype.
"Hey Betty." Amanda said into the computer.
"Hi Amanda, hi Marc. What's up?" Betty asked.
"Congratulations! I hear Daniel proposed." Amanda said.
Betty smiled sweetly and nodded.
"So he's finally marrying the cow, huh?" Marc added.
Amanda elbowed Marc as a subtle reminder to try and be nice.
"The expression is "buying the cow". It's a metaphor." Betty reminded him with slight annoyance.
"I know what the expression is." Marc said dryly.
"Let me see the rock." Amanda said.
Betty held her ring up to the camera.
"Oooo….icy. That looks like the one that sank the Hindenburg."
"The Titanic, Amanda…the Hindenburg blew up." Marc corrected her.
"I think you better recheck your facts Mr. Smarty Pantaloons." Amanda said smugly. "Why would a ship blow up because it hit an iceberg?" She looked at Betty and rolled her eyes shaking her head like Marc was crazy.
"So when's the big day?" She asked Betty, getting back on topic.
"Well we haven't really gotten specific but probably sometime in the fall."
"Oh, I get it…a shotgun wedding. I thought your breasts were looking fuller." Amanda commented sensually.
"Amanda…I'm not pregnant. If I was pregnant, then getting married in the fall would mean I'd be walking down the aisle in labour." Betty looked down at her breasts; she was a little freaked out that Amanda was noticing them at all.
"Riiiiight." Amanda nodded conspiratorially and winked. "Don't worry…I won't tell Uncle Papi."
"So you haven't started planning yet then?" Marc asked.
"No…of course not. We haven't even set a date."
"Well…when you do, have I got someone that can help you..." Marc's eyes were bright.
"Way to play it cool, Marc." Amanda said to him.
"What?" Betty didn't understand.
"Betty, Amanda would totally love to help you plan the wedding." Marc said.
"Really? You would?" Betty asked, moved by the offer; she clutched her hand over her heart and a big smile spread across her face.
"Totally Betty. It would be amazing - using Daniel's money to plan the soiree of the decade and feed those poor relatives of yours for the first time in their lives. I'll be like Mother Theresa or Oprah or something."
"Amanda, my relatives are not—" Betty was starting to correct her but Marc interrupted.
"So can Amanda help you?" He asked.
"Uh…I guess—"
"Great!" He said, not letting her finish her sentence.
At first, Marc's plan was to let Amanda handle most of the wedding stuff. He would give everything the proverbial rubber stamp once it was arranged. That way he'd fulfill his responsibilities to Mode and Wilhelmina with minimal pain. But Wilhelmina's words kept haunting him for days…"anything she picks will be a direct reflection on Mode". Willie was right. And who was the newest…and only…Fashion Editor at Mode? He was. Everything that Betty picked for her wedding - at least in the area of fashion - would be linked back to him. Oh my Gucci…he was going to be directly linked to this nightmare. Sure, Amanda usually had fashion sense so she'd be able to avert the worst disasters. But then again, there was that time when she wanted to be a design team with that big tree, Helen…Holy Wang those designs were questionable. And Amanda and Betty had been cozy lately - Amanda rarely even made fun of her on purpose anymore. She would probably…ugh…compromise…quality fashion choices in order to let Betty feel like she was contributing a little. Well, that would not do – not on his watch; there would be absolutely no fashion compromises.
