This wasn't going to work.
Betty reflected on the afternoon earlier, when she had spoken with Christina. Sure, the article was supposed to be secret; but she had to have someone to talk to. The only problem was that it was Christina. Christina knew her; she had her Betty expectations already. She thought Betty was crazy for agreeing to do this article; said that this is one big leap backwards for the feminist movement.
"This is how we empower women?" she asked. "What next – a prostitution ring?"
Betty blamed this reaction on Christina's crazed, pregnant hormones, and bit her tongue from reminding Christina that, as long as they were discussing moral integrity, she should remember that she wasn't at Meade at all right now because she was on maternity leave and weeks away from delivering a dead man's child for money.
However, a part of her couldn't help but agree.
And that was yesterday.
Now that she had made the journey to work in her new outfit, she whole heartedly agreed.
Nobody really said anything at first. However, she saw a reaction in their faces. Well, the people who looked up, anyway. In truth, many didn't.
In fact, the men tended to look in the same spot that Jesse did.
The women – especially the Mode women in the elevator – gave her more disgusted looks than usual. But not the looks they ordinarily gave. On a daily basis, the women at Meade looked at Betty like she was a very strange zoo animal doing something funny and inappropriate in front of small children; she was disgusting in a way they could laugh at.
Today, it wasn't like that.
The women would glare at Betty and roll their eyes as though they were angry at her. It seemed as though they were trying to say, "Who do you think you are, taking the attention away from us? Girls like you shouldn't wear outfits like that!"
Her run in with Amanda was, quite possibly, the worst.
She had stopped into the Mode cafeteria to get Daniel his morning coffee and bagel when she saw Amanda step in soon afterwards for what she imagined was her typical midweek lunch – gummy bears and club soda.
"Hey, Yard Sale," Amanda taunted as she passed behind Betty, but then she heard the clicking of her stilettos stop as she looked closer.
Her eyes widened.
"What?" Betty asked.
"Oh…my…God," Amanda said, gawking at her like she was something obscene, yet laughable. "Which teenager's closet did you steal that boobie bearing shirt from?"
"Nice to see you too, Amanda," Betty muttered, bringing her coffee to the register.
"Seriously, though. I mean, it's not yours," Amanda persisted. "Spill! Did Daniel have another jail bait run in that you had to cover up?"
"That, Amanda, is none of your business," Betty replied, managing to weakly smile at her as she paid.
"I guess not," Amanda continued, ignoring Betty's response. "He is into Little Miss. Cottage Cheese Thigh photographer these days. Which means…" Amanda looked at Betty, amused. "Oh my God! Now that he's into chubby chicks, you think he'll be into you?"
"Goodbye Amanda!" Betty said, walking away quickly.
"He's never been a boob man, you know!" Amanda called after her.
As the elevator doors closed behind Betty, she was left to her thoughts.
This was a disaster.
She had no other choice.
She would go to Alexis. Now. She'd explain that this article was causing ridiculous rumors to surface regarding the professional nature of the relationship between her and Daniel. It was scandalous. It had to be stopped…
"It's gold!"
Betty gazed at Alexis in disbelief.
That wasn't quite the reaction she was going for.
"What?"
"Oh, Betty, don't you get it?" Alexis asked, excitedly smiling at Betty. "Do you see how completely insecure these women are? And jealous? They go through routine surgeries to get their breasts to look like yours and all you had to do was change your shirt!"
"Okay…I'm uncomfortable, now," Betty quietly said, feeling herself turn red.
"Oh, come on, Betty, why? Can't you take a compliment?"
"Being given the evil eye is a compliment?" Betty challenged.
"From these women it is!" Alexis exclaimed, pacing in giddy contemplation. "I mean, to suggest that you were wearing that shirt to get Daniel to like you…I mean, man, these girls are exposing themselves – their envy and the kinds of low places they'll go to grab a guy - and they don't even know it!"
Betty could do nothing but contemplate the irony of that statement in silence. She was the one bearing her skin, and these girls were exposing themselves?
"Betty, you can't quit now!" Alexis insisted. "This is perfect! What a way to wake women up to themselves – conventionally attractive or not! Women need to know that looking sexy can be for you; it's not just limited to some mating ritual!"
Funny.
Looking sexy was a lot of tings, but it wasn't for Betty. At all.
"Besides," Alexis continued. "Jo should be here at any minute to…"
Like clockwork, Jo walked in with a smile.
Betty looked at her, strutting in wearing a glamorous tan pants suit as her spiral curls bounced up and down, and couldn't help but think the obvious; Jo should have been the one writing the article, not her. Jo wasn't a conventional beauty, either; she was overweight, rather tall, and domineering in her disposition. However, there was something about her that simply radiated good energy when she walked into the room. She was a natural at this. Betty…well, wasn't.
"Morning, ladies," Jo greeted, and then turned her eyes to Betty. "My, my, Alexis, your brother's certainly going to be in trouble when he sees his assistant today."
Betty felt a bit uneasy.
That was a weird comment coming from someone who just went out with him yesterday.
Why would she say that?
Didn't she like Daniel? She wasn't playing him for a fool, was she?
"Yup," Alexis agreed. "And every other man in this building."
At that, Betty wanted to scream.
Didn't anyone in this building notice that she had breasts before?
"Really, now," Betty insisted, trying to laugh it off. "You don't have to say that."
"Fine, fine, Miss Modest," Jo giggled, rolling her eyes.
"I swear, you'd think she never got a compliment before," Alexis muttered.
"Could we just take the pictures before Daniel's coffee gets cold?" Betty asked.
"No worries," Jo said, setting a tray down on Alexis' desk before picking up her camera that was locked in there the night before. "I was getting some coffee for myself and took the liberty of getting some for Daniel. I just brought it to him already. Alexis, Betty, these two are for you."
"Thanks!" Alexis graciously said.
Betty's vocal chords, however, didn't seem to work.
It was her job to get Daniel coffee.
Not Jo's.
What, Jo was too good to date Daniel without trying to dump him on every assistant in a low cut shirt she could find – but she could do the job of getting him his coffee?
Did the visibility of Betty's cleavage make her automatically lose the sufficient brain power necessary to get her boss his daily beverage of choice?
"Betty!" Jo said, clearly repeating her name.
"What?" Betty asked, a little colder than she had intended.
"Please sit over there in the corner for today's picture; I want to get just the right light."
Betty awkwardly walked over to a chair set up in the corner of Alexis' office, and turned to Jo to get more instructions.
"Okay, now, sit…"
Betty plopped down on the chair and smiled, as though posing for one of her typical, giddy photographs.
Jo looked thrown off.
"Oh, no, no, Betty, that's just not right."
"What?" Betty asked, liking Jo less every second. She turned to Alexis. "I…smile in pictures. I thought I didn't have to change anything about myself but the shirts."
"You don't," Alexis insisted, looking pointedly at Jo.
"Cool it, ladies," Jo calmly said. "Betty, I'm not trying to change you. You smile in photos you take for your own purposes, but these are going to be taken to reach women who are…fed up. They're frustrated; they're sick of fearing they won't be accepted by others. You have to be, well…bad ass."
"I'm not bad ass," Betty said, giggling. "I mean, I go to bed by ten. I have Disney bed sheets."
"That's not quite what I meant," Jo continued, repressing the urge to giggle herself. "What I want you to do now is forget all of that; forget everything for a minute and think. Think of every woman you've met who's had commentary on how you dress, how you act, what you eat and how you style your hair."
"I don't really style my hair."
"Just think," Jo insisted. "I want you to stop acting like you're fine with all of that and honestly tell me how that feels; not with your words, but with your face."
Betty, feeling rather silly, thought.
She thought of her Plump Tomato days and how furious she was when she came home. She thought about how her mom eagerly anticipated the news of how the other kids responded, which she never got, and how Betty stormed into her room, threw her tanktop at the bottom of her closet and never looked at it again.
She thought about high school; about how she was teased mercilessly each and every day by the same girls.
She thought of her first day at work when Amanda asked her if she was "the before".
"Good," came Jo's voice from what seemed like a distant place. "Keep thinking and look directly out of that window there. I'm getting profile shots."
She thought of her disastrous makeover her first year at Mode; how everyone in the office giggled at her and she was then humiliated in front of the entire meeting room.
"Betty, that's beautiful!"
She thought of the time Daniel asked her to stand in for the model that wasn't at the photo shoot on her first week of work. That was also the day she knew that Bradford selected her because she was so repulsive and disgusting that he knew Daniel would never be tempted to sleep with her.
Daniel put her there to get her to quit.
And a room full of people laughed.
Just like they always did.
She never cared before; she never gave them the time of day or stopped to think about them.
And here she was, taking it all in at once.
Before she even thought about what was happening, a tear fell from her cheek.
"Great!"
"Betty?"
Alexis' voice sounded concerned. After that, Jo stopped, sat in front of Betty, and gave her a hard gaze.
"You are bad ass, you know," Jo said, her blue eyes gleaming. "Women who take the kind of crap you have from other people and then have to be told to think about it – well, that's pretty tough. Tougher than all of those judgmental waifs combined."
That lessened the size of the lump residing in Betty's throat a bit. She showed her gratitude with a smile.
"Thanks. Excuse me." Alexis sympathetically nodded that it was okay for her to leave. She grabbed Daniel's breakfast and wiped the tears from her face before bringing it down to Daniel.
Daniel had a plan.
He would avoid Betty.
If that's what it would take for him to hold onto his sanity for the next three days, that's what he would do.
Besides, truth be told, his own concern for her was starting to bother him. Especially after what Jo said.
Maybe he was overly emotionally attached.
And, well, why should he be?
She was a grown woman. She could certainly take care of herself. She could handle losing her mom, taking care of her family, losing Henry, listening to everyone's catty remarks…she was tough. She didn't need him to act like some great big protective cavemen out to clobber anyone or anything that could hurt her.
He shook his head, trying to focus on the final draft of the pages he had to submit to Alexis by that day, particularly one very long sentence that he just couldn't get through. It had been in front of him for the past hour; it was time he focused better.
Focusing better…
Staying busy….
Yes.
If he kept Betty really occupied, then he would certainly be able to focus better on what he was doing. He'd write her a note and send her on errands today. Errands out of the office. Away from all of the men at Player and their testosterone induced stares.
No.
Because, well, that was none of his business.
He wasn't doing this to get those goons away from her.
This was for him.
So he could work.
Yes.
After all, she was such a distraction. Not in the way she would be to the perverts in the office. No, Daniel didn't see her as a distraction in that way. He couldn't. It was because…well, she was always so chatty. She was always asking trivial questions like how his day was going. As if that was any of her concern. She'd probably demand to know how his date with Jo went, and get all giddy and excited and cute when she heard it went well.
No. He wouldn't think of Betty being cute.
Thought erased from memory.
Man, that was such a Betty thought.
No.
No more Betty.
He'd think of Jo.
Yes. Jo.
That's who he should think about.
Sexy, free spirited, intelligent, talented Jo.
She had the kind of casual attitude about things that Betty needed.
And she had such…beautiful teeth!
Daniel internally punched himself for going there.
No. He shouldn't.
Unlike Betty, Jo admitted the truth about herself. She was on the chubby side and she was okay with that. There was no insecurity or weirdness, nor was there any Betty-type fixation with childish things like self esteem and feelings.
Jo was a woman.
A real woman.
Betty could be, too.
She could be without a crutch to lean on; without her family to go home to or Daniel around to care about what she wrote or how she dressed. It was in her best interests for him to back off. It would be healthy.
He picked up a notepad and hastily scribbled.
Betty –
Could you pick up my dry cleaning at 9:30? Oh, and then there's this interview with the photo department for staff models on the 4th floor at 11; you should oversee that, because I'm swamped. Speaking of which, there's also a lecture I was invited to attend by one of our funders. It'd be great if you represented the magazine there and showed up. The info's on the email you sent me earlier this week.
Just, whatever you do, don't knock; I have tons to get done today. If anyone calls, just write the messages down; I'll pick them up.
--Daniel
He quickly walked over to her desk and placed the note alongside her pink bunny. She would be here any minute.
He walked back to his desk and sipped the coffee Jo had brought him, grateful that Betty didn't have to come in to bring him any more.
However, his plan didn't entirely work.
In the next five minutes, when he was up to his thousandth attempt to get through the same sentence, his door opened and he heard Betty come in. He didn't have to look up; he could tell it was her from the sound of her footsteps and the appearance of her unkept hair from his peripheral vision.
"Good morning, Daniel. I got you your bagel."
Something didn't sound right about her voice.
I sounded a little…nasal. As if she'd been crying.
"I'm not really hungry," Daniel replied, not looking up. He knew if he did, he would be forced to see her upset and then he'd have to find out who was responsible…and he certainly didn't need to think about that. "You could have it."
"Um, okay."
Yes, something was definitely wrong.
No.
He wouldn't look.
He couldn't look.
He would look at the pictures of the models in front of him and not at Betty or her skin.
She's a grown up.
She's an eager, willing writer.
She doesn't need you.
She said so herself.
If she doesn't want to be your assistant this week, fine. She doesn't have to be…
"So, do you want some of your messages?" Betty asked.
She was right in front of him, clearly trying to catch his eye, for he could almost feel her leaning over the desk.
Once glance and he'd know what this article was about.
No.
"No. I'm kind of busy. Look, Betty, did you see my note?"
"Yes, Daniel. The thing is, I don't know if I'm qualified to…"
"You can do anything," Daniel muttered, rereading the same sentence over and over again. "I trust you. Besides, I could really use the help."
"Fine," Betty coldly replied, and she left his office.
She noticed his coldness.
She was perceptive enough to pick up on the fact that he refused to look at her.
And it bugged her.
He could tell. For two reasons.
One – the sounds she made. He knew her sounds. Her voice was angrier than usual, and her footsteps were louder.
Two – the slamming of the door as she left.
He imagined her face; the furious expression in her eyes. He wasn't used to ignoring her like this. He had only done that once, and that was when he felt hurt by a decision that she made when she didn't tell him the truth about Wilhemina's affair. This time – well, she hadn't done anything wrong. At all. She had every right to be upset with him.
Hell, he was being stupid. He was bigger than this. He was a grown up, too, and he could handle her hurt expression. He could handle hearing that she was dealing with whatever abuse her colleagues dished out. He didn't have to fear his own reaction. He went his way and she went hers, and they were friends.
He could let her grow on her own and still be her friend.
He could see her in her skin and still be her friend.
After a few moments of contemplation, he decided he could do this. He could glance up, see Betty as she was, and march over to her desk to apologize for his rudeness.
Which he did.
Uh-oh…
…Betty did as she was told.
She left for his dry cleaning.
She would probably be gone for the day.
This would take a while to undo.
He tried shrugging it off, giving the sentence in front of him a millionth chance at being understood, but knew it was useless. He had to sort this out.