A/N: I squealed like a piglet over the reviews…many, many thanks xD You guys have been so incredibly patient while I crank out what I can. Life is just so hectic this time of year…anyway, here's the next installment.
Betty was trying desperately not to giggle like a fangirl over the naughty emails Daniel was sending her.
Lean over a little further, will you? Your top's missing some buttons, I think. Love Daniel.
Mr. Meade, I am shocked! Sexual harassment in the workplace…will you ever learn?
"Ms. Suarez, I presume?"
Betty nearly fell out of her chair, then put on her best I-wasn't-having-computer-sex-with-my-boss face. She swiveled around and found herself engulfed in the darkest pair of liquid eyes she'd ever seen underneath fashionably unruly blonde curls.
"Uh, yes…I am her…I mean, she would be me…Betty…because I am…she…hi." Flustered for some indiscernible reason, she stood and held out her hand. She didn't have to reach very far because he was very, very close. Big guy. Big, hot, pretty guy.
He looked very amused, but not condescendingly so. It reminded her of how Daniel had looked at her when she'd inadvertently ripped Philippe the photographer on her first day at Mode. She didn't know why she was having such a visceral and inappropriate reaction to him. She worked around hunky underwear models on a daily basis and had never once become handi-incapable over them.
"Travis Perdon." He took her hand and kissed it. His lips lingered just a little longer than they should have.
Daniel thought so, too.
He'd been awaiting this Perdon guy all morning. If they didn't land him as an advertiser, the magazine would be in deep doo-doo. He really had no worries in that regard, though, because all he had to do was unleash Betty on an unsuspecting potential client and the deal was as good as sealed.
Perdon, though, looked like he wanted to seal a completely different kind of deal with Daniel's girlfriend, his soul-mate, his best friend, his baby, the center of his universe.
And what was worse, Betty, his sensible, unflappable, appearance-impervious Betty, looked like she just might be willing to let him.
Daniel realized that Betty didn't wasn't remotely aware of the effect she had on men. She was full and curvy and luscious, and she walked with a little uncalculated sway to her hips that had attracted a number of covert stares over the years. She was so innocent it was sensual, and, yes, men noticed. He didn't think of himself as a jealous man, so he told himself that he didn't mind guys looking…as long as they didn't touch.
Perdon was touching. Now he's kissing up her…oh, HELL, no…
"Mr. Perdon." Daniel stood leaning against the doorframe and appearing as relaxed as a young sultan after a massage from umpteen virgins. She knew better. Daniel was a jealous man, although he'd be tiresome and argue the point into the next millennium. She knew that relaxed stance—he was holding himself at bay. Ordinarily, he'd be all about shaking Travis's hand and patting each other on the back and doing the rich-boy executive clubhouse crappola. If he wasn't, that could only mean one thing.
He was trying not to rearrange Travis's face.
Blessedly, Travis had grabbed a clue and stopped slurping on her arm when he'd first felt Wrathful-and-SO-obviously-her-boyfriend!Daniel's death rays burning into his back.
"Mr. Meade," Travis said with a brilliant smile. "I was just getting to know your lovely assistant." He held out his hand and Daniel eventually came slinking over to reciprocate. Betty came out from around her desk.
"So, can I get you guys anything? Tea, coffee, bottled water…?"
Daniel's eyes never left Travis, but he gently pulled Betty closer to him; his fingers deftly began to massage the back of her neck.
Betty was at first indignant and thought Pee on my leg, why don't you? Sheesh. But those fingers were working their magic.
Travis took in the possessive gesture. "Nothing for me, thanks, love."
Daniel turned and looked directly at her. "No, thanks, baby."
Betty was surprised at the endearment. He usually reserved it for their most intimate moments, and she frankly felt a little exposed. That he would use it now for leverage in some weird, pseudo pissing contest stung. She managed a curt nod.
Travis strode though the door of Daniel's office. He kept glancing back at Betty, Daniel realized with annoyance. "So you and she are…"
"Not up for discussion." Softening his tone by sheer force of will, Daniel added, "My private life will remain private."
Travis threw up his hands. "Ooookay…let's talk business."
Daniel inwardly sighed. Freakin' finally…
"Over lunch at Martinelli's."
Damn. It.
He really, REALLY didn't want Betty to be exposed to this smarmy dicksmack anymore than could be helped, but Travis did seem to be thoroughly charmed by her. And vice-versa, Daniel's mind added, and he felt a roiling in his gut at the thought.
Travis checked his watch. "We have to be done by two, okay? I have a flight to catch."
"Fine, let's go." He flew out the door like someone had lit a fire under his ass. "Betty, Martinelli's, let's roll."
She grabbed her sweater. This should be craptacular.
Daniel was contemplating the merits of kicking Travis in the nads under the table and pinning it on Betty. He tried once again to actually start talking the account.
"So, Mr. Perdon…"
"Please, call me Travis." His eyes never left Betty, who was biting that scrumptious bottom lip of hers raw. Daniel longed to be home at the loft, lounging in bed naked with his girlfriend as the afternoon light streamed in on both of them and listening to her bitch about that ugly-ass mural.
"Travis," Daniel ground out, "Mode's circulation count over the past two years has been without peer. I think if you look at our demographic stats, women 18-35, they prefer us over Vogue and Elle by…"
"Nope, no business talk on an empty stomach." He glanced wryly back at the kitchen. "Maybe they had to catch the chicken and kill it themselves?" Travis rested his perfect head on his fist and gazed at Betty, who smiled politely.
"Maybe someone should go to the bathroom," she suggested. "That always makes the food come."
Daniel felt his cell vibrate from inside his pocket. The covert text from Betty read That means you, babe. I'll wear him down.
"I'll go!" Daniel said brightly and stalked off. He cast a final glance over his shoulder and grimaced as he saw Travis scoot his chair closer to Betty's. Will NOT blow this account, will NOT blow this account…
He mooned around in the restroom for a minute before texting Betty. Two could play this game. Did the food come yet? Also, what has he groped so far?
Betty, meanwhile, broke of mid-sentence in her conversation with Travis about the merits of Henry James to respond. She gave him an apologetic look, did a double-take at Daniel's sheer audacity and began rapidly texting him back. Yes, the food is here. No, he hasn't groped a damn thing and can we GET more unprofessional?!
As she tilted her head and dimpled prettily, Betty dearly hoped her sappy-sweet grin at her erstwhile boyfriend as he made his way back to the table conveyed all the rage-fueled sarcasm she could muster.
Daniel dearly hoped his responding smirk conveyed the devil-may-care quality that he was having a harder and harder time conjuring these days.
--
It was an odd kind of spat.
Neither half of Detty was very good at direct confrontation, ever. They preferred to bob, weave, and serpentine their way around an issue until they were back nuzzling and talking shmoopily to each other.
Usually, it would be really awkward, but then Betty would make a weird face as she sipped her champagne over dinner or Daniel would flick water on her after he emerged from the shower, there would be giggles, and they would be golden.
Not tonight, apparently.
Tonight they had gained a client but lost an intangible something in the process. They sat on opposite sides of the towncar, Betty pretending to fine-tune tomorrow's schedule and Daniel pretending to check his messages. They pulled up at Daniel's Soho apartment complex just as it was about to get stupid. No one had that many messages, not even Daniel Meade.
As soon as they hit the loft, Daniel mumbled something about needing a shower and Betty made a beeline for the Ben and Jerry's. As Daniel brushed his teeth, Betty listlessly shifted through her overnight bag and swore as she couldn't find her toothbrush.
She reluctantly shuffled over to Daniel and reported the news dully. "I can't find my toothbrush. The pink sparkly one."
Daniel responded by handing her his and briskly maneuvering around her into the bedroom.
Betty mechanically brushed her teeth, her mind casting about desperately over what exactly had gone so horribly wrong. There had been no explosion of anger, which would've really been better than this cold formality.
When she entered the bedroom, Daniel, folder open and briefcase on the floor beside the bed, was reading over his notes. He was wearing his reading glasses, glasses that she'd finally finagled him into getting when she told him that all that squinting would give him crow's feet. His hair was tousled into a for-once unintentional faux-hawk and was still slightly damp.
The effect was totally RAWR. Betty ached to touch him, to bury her nose in those silky, wet brunette locks, all salty with Daniel!smell.
Instead, Betty crawled in beside him, turned over on her side, and instantly missed his bare back against hers.
Daniel, for his part, was dying inside. His pride had taken a blow tonight, watching Betty and Travis talk literature and politics and art and stuff he hadn't given two shits about since…well, ever. He knew, in the rational part of his mind, that it had been 97 business on Betty's end. It was that other 3, though, the percent that was honest-to-God attraction, that had him scared stupid.
Hearing a rustling next to him, he saw that Betty had stripped off her sunflower t-shirt but still hadn't turned over to face him. It was a sign, he knew it was, because every movement between them had been calculated and deliberate and robotic tonight.
Unsure about where he stood with her, but knowing what they both needed, he wrapped himself around her and he swore the very walls of the loft let out an audible sigh of relief.
He kissed her temple but she had dropped of to sleep as soon as their bodies merged.
With the knowledge that this wasn't over, Daniel followed suit.
I know, it's angsty. And long. And angsty.
Next chapter: It is SO on when Daniel learns just what exactly Travis and Betty discussed while he was in the john.
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