Ch. 2 : Knowing the Way around Women
Mathew Eckett stepped into Mode office out of the pages of GQ, dark, handsome and well dressed, leaving the magazine interns and then some staring after him with breathless sighs.
Betty, however, didn't even notice when he came in, being too busy rummaging in her desk for a spare notebook and pen. Five minutes later she groaned closing the cabinet. Marc had already left to get Wilhelmina her lunch which meant Betty had no choice. She would have to go to Amanda, who had been distinctly less than pleased when Betty announced she would take her previous position as assistant.
She wandered to reception with what she hoped was a pleasant smile, noticing that upon seeing her, the blonde was suddenly buried among piles and piles of paper.
Betty stood in front of reception for a moment.
There was only the rustle of papers and a 'hmm' from the young woman at the desk.
"Amanda?" Betty ventured.
No reply; Betty shrugged inwardly and proceeded anyway.
"I was wondering if I could borrow a notepad and pencil or pen? This whole reinstatement thing took me by surprise and I--"
The blonde sat back. "Shouldn't you have thought of that before you took my job?" She asked icily.
Betty furrowed her eyebrows. "I didn't take your job, Amanda. I--"
"I don't want to hear it. Why don't you go ask your gross little friend at accounting?"
"Amanda, come on!"
"And I suggest you step on it, your new boss just walked in."
"What?!" The panic surged automatically.
"Five," Amanda lingered on each syllable. "Minutes. Ago."
Betty looked across the circular desk to where there lay an open notebook. Amanda's eyes fell upon it, but she was seconds too late and Betty was already hurrying down to the office.
"That's mine!" She cried out.
"I'll give it back!" Betty's voice rang down the hall.
"Hi there," Betty said cheerfully from the office door, if a bit out of breath.
Her boss turned to look at her. "Can I...help you with anything?" He asked, scanning her. Betty stepped in the office and extended a hand.
"I'm here to help...you actually," Betty chuckled. "I'm Betty Suarez. I was Daniel's assistant and now I will be your assistant during your time here."
"I'm sorry. I thought I heard you say you were my assistant."
"I am," Betty said with a smile ignoring the brush off. "Can I get you anything?"
"I thought the blonde was my assistant. She was Daniel's assistant"
"Well, it's a long story," Betty laughed again, this time uncomfortably. "I was Daniel's assistant before Amanda, but I left to work at MYW--"
"Oh right, the Women's Lib magazine. You look like you'd fit right in," he said offhandedly with a smirk.
"Not as much as I hoped," Betty said the smile leaving her face for an instant. "Anyway, I was told you would need someone to acquaint you with the workings of Mode."
"Right. Okay, well sure. Nice to meet you, Betty, but I'm sure I have everything under control. This isn't the first magazine, I've headed you know?"
"Oh really?" Betty said tilting her head. "What other magazines have you been editor on?"
"MP," he said. "I took leave when Bradford approached me for this favor."
"Well, I guess you are okay on your own. Still, if there's anything you have any doubt about feel free to ask. I'm always," she gestured behind her in a flurry and the pencil fell from her hands and bounced off the wall. Betty crouched down to look for it under the chair hurriedly and stood back up with a smile. "I'm always right over there--and oh, on the phone too," she added.
"I'm sure that won't be necessary, but thanks anyway," Matthew said.
"Well--"
"Who do we have here?" Wilhelmina's voice all but purred from the doorway.
Matthew looked up and smiled, as his eyes roamed over the creative director's striking figure. "You must be the lovely Ms. Slater," he said.
"And you the dashing Mr. Eckett," she supplied walking in. "I just wanted to personally welcome you."
"It's very appreciated."
"I hope we have many successful collaborations together," she said.
"I don't doubt we will," he said automatically.
Betty looked from Wilhelmina to Matthew worriedly. Her preoccupied look intensified when Wilhelmina smiled more widely and said coyly, "Perhaps we could do an intimate lunch. Get to know each other a little better."
"I would like that," Matthew replied, thoroughly besotted.
"How does tomorrow sound?"
"Betty could you write it down?"
"Yes, sure," Betty replied, jotting the appointment in Amanda's notebook.
"Well, I'll see you tomorrow then," Wilhelmina said and turned, her stilettos clacking on the floor as she exited the office.
Betty waited until the sound of her heels was faint before she said hesitantly, "Um, Mr. Eckett--"
"Matthew," he supplied. "Mr. Eckett makes me feel like I'm married and have two kids," he said disgustedly.
"Matthew," Betty tried once more, "I feel that I should warn you about Wilhelmina."
"Warn me?" Matthew chuckled. "About what? Her not being the committing type?"
"No! No. Wilhelmina is...very interested in Daniel's position."
"You mean my position."
"Yes, she wants to be editor. So you have to be careful, because she's tried to meddle too much into his job before."
Matthew looked at her for a moment.
"She's very crafty," Betty said. "And manipulative."
"Don't you worry, Betty. I know my way around women," Matthew said with his previous smugness. "Why don't you get me an espresso?"
"He seems like a pig," Hilda said flatly from the sink the next morning. "Your other boss, Daniel was girl crazy, but this one seems like a flat out pig."
"Don't you think you're judging him too quickly," Betty supplied before taking another chug of her coffee.
"I know my way around women," Hilda mimicked, drying her hands. "Pig," she said in her normal voice. "I don't need to meet him to know it. You keep an eye on him, because someone that says something like that can't be very smart."
"Oh come on, he's editor of his own magazine!"
"You never know Betty. Daniel nearly ran Mode to the ground didn't he? And what magazine?"
"Something called MP and Daniel was inexperienced," Betty countered. "On top of that he has to deal with Wilhelmina--"
"Had. He's gone, Betty," Hilda said pragmatically.
"Temporary, Hilda. He's just licking his wounds, he'll be back."
"After what that tramp did to him on national TV?"
"Daniel is stronger than that," Betty said firmly. "He just needs some time. Anyone would."
"Whatever you say," Hilda shrugged. "Just keep an eye on your new boss."
"I'm gonna go check on Justin," her sister said as she walked out of the kitchen. "He woke up without a fever, something tells me he's well enough to get his butt of the bed and go to school today."
"Isn't he a dream?" Betty overheard Amanda murmur to Marc as they watched Matthew leave with Wilhelmina.
"He is," Marc sighed beside her. "It's only a shame that when they return he'll be damaged goods," he laughed out loud and Amanda joined him.
"Why do you say that?" Betty spoke up behind them.
Marc let out a shout. "Could you please not sneak up behind me? That kind of thing could give me a heart attack."
Amanda chuckled, but Betty was not amused. "What is Wilhelmina planning with Matthew?"
"How should I know?" Marc shrugged.
"And if he did," Amanda added. "I don't know why on earth he'd tell you."
"Exactly."
Betty rolled her eyes.
"So," Betty began. "How was your lunch with Wilhelmina?"
"Excellent," Matthew sat back. "We discussed some of my ideas for the upcoming spread."
"Oh really?"
"Imagine--bold colors, swimsuits--"
"Swimsuits?" Betty interrupted. "This next issue is March. Isn't it too early for swimsuits?"
"It's never too early for swimsuits."
"And Wilhelmina was all right with this?"
"Ecstatic."
Betty furrowed her eyebrows.
"I want you to plan a meeting I want to get this off the ground as soon as possible."
Betty couldn't help but look down at what she had scribbled. Bold colors, swimsuits.
"Is everything all right?"
Betty opened her mouth, but then thought better of it. Maybe he was right, it would be better once the whole idea was on its way.
"I'll get right on it."
It would be another case of her gut instinct being clamped down by good old fashioned benefit of the doubt. The impulse to always believe the best in people which she always took to heart.
"But it is horrible!" She vented to Christina several days later. "It looked like some centerfold spread!"
"What was Wilhelmina's expression?" The seamstress asked excitedly. "Did she scream?"
"No! She acted as if it were amazing! I don't understand. I felt as if I were the only sane person in the room. I kept looking at the colors and the props and it kept feeling wrong, but no one said anything!"
"Is it still going on?"
"Yes!"
"Right now?"
"I want to see it," Christina said rushing out of the room with Betty on her heels.
"I mean I'm not one for high fashion and you and I know it," Betty said as they walked to the elevator. "But I feel that in my time here I have never seen something like that. Not even with those risqué spreads we had last October."
"The barbed wire convict costume?" Betty nodded and the older woman whistled, pressing the "up" button. "That was risqué."
The doors opened and both women walked in. Betty continued undaunted, "And that's my point, that it looked weird and revealing, but it didn't look like a-like a--"
"Girlie magazine?"
"Yes. No. I don't know," she said despairingly. "Maybe it's like I said, I don't know enough."
"Well you pointed out yourself that high fashion can be a little bit on the trashy side," the doors of the elevator opened and both Betty and Christina walked out.
"But this isn't just trashy" Betty tried once more to explain, "--it's--"
"Dear god, what is this?!" Christina interrupted her as they approached the shoot.
The model was dressed in a minuscule red bikini and sat on a shiny motorcycle, winking at the camera. A fan blowing her long platinum blonde tresses back.
"No, no, no!" Christina exclaimed. "Her make up is all wrong! Her hair color is all wrong! Her expression is all wrong! Her bathing suit is all wrong!"
She turned to Betty with urgency. "You have to stop this. This isn't high fashion."
"But Wilhelmina--"
"Maybe she's had one too many botox injections," she spoke hurriedly. "It's too soon to know whether that causes brain damage you know." Christina looked at the shoot and then turned to Betty. "All I know is that this definitely is not Mode. You need to let the new kid know that, Betty."
"Purse your lips, sugar!" the photographer called out to the model.
Betty closed her eyes and nodded.
"I think that went pretty well," Matthew said conversationally several hours later. "I even managed to keep us way below budget. Called on a few favors."
"Matthew," Betty said hesitantly. "I don't think the shoot worked."
"What do you mean?" He asked, smiling broadly. "Didn't you see it? It was smoking hot."
"That's exactly why," Betty said. "It wasn't high fashion. It wasn't fashion at all." She paused before saying softly, "I don't think we can run it."
Matthew looked at her for a second before bursting out laughing. "Come on! Even Wilhelmina, our creative editor, approved it."
"That's because she wants you out," Betty said pragmatically. "Like she wanted Daniel out. You're doing the job for her."
He laughed defensively. "What are you saying? That you have more fashion knowledge than I do? You?"
Betty approached the desk and placed several Mode issues on it.
"I took the liberty of marking out our latest and most risqué spreads," she said as Matthew reached to open the magazines at the marked pages. "You're going to see that nothing looks remotely like the shoot."
Matthew looked up at her. "But it's Wilhelmina's approval against yours."
Betty returned his sober gaze. "Then it's about who you trust. You say you know your way around women. I only want what's best for Mode. In the end though, you're the editor-in-chief. If you decided to scrap it, though you're going to have to work fast we don't have much time. I added some ideas for simple spreads, which I think are a better fit for Mode. You'll find them at the bottom of the pile."
With that she turned swiftly and left the room.
"I picked up something for you today," Hilda said after dinner.
A magazine landed ungracefully on the table.
"What is it?" Ignacio asked.
"The magazine that Betty's new boss was the head off. Check it out."
One look at the scantily clad buxom red head on the cover draped on a convertible of the same color was enough to make Betty blanche.
"MP," she read slowly. "Men's Premier."
"Your boss sure 'knows his way around women'."
When Betty emerged from the elevator the next morning she was unusually more ruffled, more on edge and more determined to dig her heels into Mode. It simply would not do to come this far and to have sacrificed so much to simply let Wilhelmina Slater get her way. Daniel and her were partners, she thought. Well, kind of partners, a part of her amended. Either way, she would hold down the fort and if that meant going past her boss to the real problem she would.
So she wound up resolved, disheveled in Wilhelmina's office. "This can't go on," she said. "That shoot can't make it on the March issue Mode. Or any issue!"
Marc and Wilhelmina's heads snapped towards her at the same time. The creative director took one look at her. "Marc get me some coffee."
"But don't you need—"
"Coffee!" She barked. "Now!"
"Fine, fine, fine," he mumbled walking hesitantly out the door. Wilhelmina went to close it behind him.
"If I remember correctly," Wilhelmina said. "It is the editor in chief who decides what goes on to Mode or not. And I think he's quite taken with his idea."
"If he is, it's because you let him run with it!" Betty exclaimed. Then calming herself down she added, "If this goes to print it will be horrible! You can't be that desperate to be on top. Sales will be down, sponsors will pull out! It'll be a laughingstock"
"Little girl you have no idea," Wilhelmina said thickly, "of what you're dealing with. Just take a step back and let the chips fall where they may."
"No! I have a responsibility here—"
"To follow your boss—so do it." There was a knock at the door. "That was fast," she said wryly, "Come in Marc. Have a nice day, Betty."
The frustration was almost to the point of making her cry, but she made it out the door and back to her desk, hoping desperately that Matthew would come around. An hour later he asked her to his office and she walked in, her stomach turned into a knot.
"I've decided," he said slowly. "That I'm going to go on with the original shoot."
"You can't!" She blurted out.
"Listen to me--it will be a way of rejuvenating the magazine, attracting a new readership!"
"No, no, no. Don't do this."
"I know women," Matthew said. "And they go where men go. Think about it, the Victoria's Secret franchise has made millions catering to men."
"Mode is a fashion magazine," Betty objected vehemently. "You can't do this. You can' turn it into another MP."
"I already approved it, Betty. It's not about trusting either your or Wilhelmina," he said gravely. "It's about trusting my knowledge. What I do well."
Betty stayed silent for a moment.
"Okay then," she said grimly, before turning to leave. "You're the boss."
"Maybe it won't be so bad," her father said comfortingly that night. "You've thought things were bad before."
"They've never gone this far," Betty said tonelessly. "I should have quit."
"No," Ignacio objected. "Things will work out. Somehow they will--like I said it might not be that bad. Well, buenas noches mi'ja. I'm heading to bed. Don't stay up too late."
Betty leaned back on the couch, unable to focus on the muted show on TV. Suddenly her cell phone rang from inside her jacket, startling her. She padded towards it yawning and looked at the number surprised to find it labeled 'unknown'.
"Hello?"
"Hey Betty," an instantly familiar voice rang in her ear.
"Oh my God. Daniel! I'm so glad to hear from you. Where are you? Are you okay?—"
"Betty, Betty, Betty," his voice sounded slightly off.
"Daniel? What's wrong?"
"How…do-do you say…'I proposed to a woman—a woman who took my heart-- and crushed it under her sharp stiletto heels' in Spanish?"
It dawned to her in a flash as she noticed he was slurring. "You're drinking!"
"Tomando!" He exclaimed and there was a flurry of cheers that momentarily drowned out his voice.
"Daniel," worry tinged her voice. "Where are you?"
"With friends. Tomando!" From the cell she heard the burst of sound once more as the room seemed to erupt with cheers.
"Daniel! Where are you?"
"Betty I gotta go. Too much time and too little drinks—is that how it goes?" He laughed huskily.
"Daniel! Don't hang—"
There was a click and then nothingness as the line went dead.
TBC
