A/N: New chapter! New chapter! Y'all are going to like this one!
Chapter Four
In the wake of her realization, Betty threw herself into work. It just so happened that preparations for the next issue had gone into high drive, and Betty took advantage of the maelstrom of projects, edits, and anything else that was thrown in her path. With her mind stretched in so many directions, she didn't have time to think about trivial thinks like how she may or may not be in love with Daniel Meade. Nope. No time. No time at all. She found herself, actually, with no time for things outside of work. She skipped Friday night dinners with her dad twice and Hilda had all about given up trying to make plans with her because Betty either already had something scheduled, or canceled at the last minute.
"Do you ever leave this office?" Marc asked, standing at her doorway. "You're starting to look like one of those pale, sad workers in a Vietnamese sweatshop."
"We had really great numbers on last month's issue," Betty said crisply. "I want to capitalize on that success. So, we get an even better issue out."
"I literally have no idea what you just said," Marc said, shaking his coiffed head. "I stopped listening at 'really great numbers'."
Betty smirked. "What do you want, Marc?"
"Just wanted to see how you are," Marc said evasively. "I noticed this radio silence started after –"
"Don't say it," Betty said quickly, voice high. She leaned forward and lowered her voice as she said, "This space…see this space?" She waved her hand around in front of her. "This space is a Daniel Meade free space."
"You're being ridiculous," Marc deadpanned. "But I will respect your decision to keep this a –"
"Ah!" Betty said, holding up her hand.
"Okay, now you're just being dramatic," he griped. "Anyway, I'm also here for staples. We're out upstairs."
"Don't you have an office manager for that?" she asked, already beginning to rifle in her cabinet. He shrugged and held his hand out for the staples. She dropped them in and asked, "Anything else you need?"
"Not right now," he said easily, stuffing the box of staples in the pocket of his paisley shirt. "But I'll come back if I think of something."
She smirked. "Well, thank you for checking up on me. But I really have to get back to work."
Marc flitted back to the Mode floor and Betty buried herself in her work again. Her phone buzzed and she saw Hilda's name flashing on the screen. She hesitated for a moment before clicking the call off and pushing her phone to the side. With a sigh, she went back to work.
A few hours later she had been staring at the same layout for so long that her eyeballs actually felt dry. The pages bled into each other and she couldn't remember which scenes she'd looked at and hadn't.
"Coffee," she murmured to herself. "Coffee will help."
Usually she just made coffee in the office but she had a taste for a salted caramel mocha at the café across the street. Yes, it would take extra time, but she reasoned that the extra sugar and caffeine made it well worth it. She stood up from her desk and arched her back for a moment before grabbing her coat from the back of her chair and heading out.
She pressed the button for the elevator and her phone buzzed in her purse. She pulled it out and saw that Hilda was calling again.
"Hello?" she said, answering the phone.
"Betty! What-"
"I know, I didn't answer," she interrupted, stepping forward when the elevator dinged. The doors slid open and her stomach twisted when she saw Daniel there. She nodded to him as she continued, "I have been absolutely swamped with work. I – "
"Betty, stop talking! Did you listen to my messages?"
"No, sorry, I meant to but then I got caught up in stuff, and –"
"Betty -" Hilda's voice broke up into loud garbles and Betty pulled the phone away from her ear with a wince.
"Hello?" she tried, still hearing loud garbling static. "Hello? Hilda? Crap."
She hung up and Daniel said, "The reception in these elevators suck."
"Yeah," she said, grasping the phone in her hand.
"So, how've you been?" he asked as the elevator slid downwards. Her stomach flew up to her throat, and it had little to do with the elevator's movement. She could smell his aftershave in the small elevator compartment, and she remembered her face nestled in the crook of his neck, that aftershave mingling with another scent that was entirely him.
"I'm good," she said, forcing a smile up at him. "Busy on the next issue."
"Yeah," he said, nodding and stuffing his hands into his pockets. "The work never stops coming, huh?"
"No, it doesn't."
"Now you know just how much work I avoided my first year here."
She laughed, the genuineness of it warming her all the way to her toes. It was nice to be like this again. Laughing and joking.
"I heard about the clothes mixup, by the way," Daniel said. "Sorry about that."
She nodded. "Yeah, my Army Moms almost ended up in zebra stripes and leather jeggings."
Daniel feigned a wince and said, "I'm glad we avoided that."
She laughed. "Yeah, me too."
The doors slid open and he gestured for her to walk out first. She grinned at him thankfully and glanced down at her phone, seeing that a new message from Hilda flashed on the screen. She called into her voicemail and listened to Hilda's panicked voice. She didn't even realize that she'd stopped walking, but then Daniel was beside her, concern etched on his face as he asked her something.
"Betty," he said, jogging her from whatever holding pattern she'd found herself in. All she could hear was her sister's voice, loud crying in the background.
"Betty, are you okay?"
"The hospital," she mumbled, hand grasping the strap of her purse tightly. Maybe if she held on tight enough she wouldn't fall apart. "I need to get to the hospital."
"The hospital – what?"
"I…I need to get a cab," she stammered, rushing toward the street. She reached into her purse and pulled out her wallet, hand trembling. He was beside her again and telling her to take his town car. She shook her head, because for some reason she couldn't figure out how he would get home then, seemingly forgetting about all those other modes of transportation, but he insisted.
"It will get you there faster," he pressed.
"Okay," she said softly, wiping at her nose. "Okay, I'll take the town car."
He opened the door for her and she slid in. She was shivering, and she couldn't tell if it was from the cold. Daniel hesitated for a moment and then asked, "Do you want me to come with?"
She pressed her lips together, tears filling her eyes. Unable to speak, she nodded and he climbed in, closing the door behind him. She told the driver which hospital to go to and they continued on in silence. After a while she said, "It's my Dad. He had another heart attack."
"He'll be okay. Your dad's a fighter."
"I haven't been home as much," Betty murmured, wiping at her nose again. "I haven't been calling like I used to."
"Launching a magazine is difficult work."
"I skipped our weekly dinners," she said, turning her gaze toward the window so that he couldn't see her cry. "I never skipped those dinners. My dad loved those dinners."
"I'm sure he understands that you have a lot going on," Daniel said. "Your dad knows that."
She shook her head, willing herself to stop crying but unable to obey. "I should have been there. Maybe I would have noticed something. Maybe…" she trailed off, chin pressed against her chest as sob racked through her body. It was too much. The stress of the job, and Daniel, and now her dad. It was all too much.
She leaned against him and he took a hold of her hand, squeezing it gently. She forgot how comforting just his presence could be. Sure, she'd depended on him quite a lot during her Mode days, but when she'd gone to London she'd learned to depend on herself. It was nice to have someone to lean on again, if only for the carried.
"He's going to be fine," Daniel said resolutely. "He's going to be fine, Betty."
The hospital was filled with the usual hustle and bustle of patients and hospital personnel. Nurses rushed around the floor while doctors strolled by on their way to their next patient. Betty quickly made her way to the information desk, Daniel on her heels.
"I need a room number," Betty stammered. "Ignacio Suarez. He…he came in a bit ago with a heart attack?"
"Okay," the receptionist said. "One moment."
"Betty?"
She turned around and Hilda rushed toward her, throwing her arms around Betty tightly. Hilda's gold hoop earrings pressed uncomfortably against Betty's cheek as Hilda breathed out, "Thank God you're here."
"I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner. I know you left me all those messages and –"
"You're here now," Hilda said, eyes watery. "You're here now." She glanced over at Daniel, who was standing a respectful distance from the, hands stuffed in the pockets of his coat. "Hey there, Daniel. It's good to see you again. It's been a while, huh?"
"Daniel drove me here," Betty filled in, catching his gaze and then quickly looking away. She was mildly embarrassed from how she'd acted on the drive there. She shouldn't have broken down like that and she definitely shouldn't have used him as a human pillow.
"That was real nice of you, Daniel," Hilda said. She gestured toward both of them as she said, "Come on, Bobby and Justin are over in the waiting room."
Hilda walked off toward the waiting room and Betty and Daniel hung back.
"I'm okay now," Betty told Daniel softly, wanting to give him an out. They weren't really friends anymore, and staying with someone at the hospital was definitely a friend thing. "You don't have to stay."
It wasn't until she said that aloud that she realized just how much she did want him to stay. She wanted nothing more than for him to walk with them to the waiting room, and tell her for the umpteenth time that her dad was going to be okay. And to her relief he shook his head and told her, "I want to stay."
Her eyes softened and she murmured, "Okay, thanks."
Daniel cleared his throat and said, "Of course. Your dad's a good guy. I, uh, want to make sure he has people here for him."
"Right," Betty said, nodding. The implication in what he said was clear. He was there for Ignacio, not her. "Well, we better catch up with Hilda."
"They're having it set in modern day New York, which I think is, like, the worst idea ever. The period-ness of West Side Story is one of the best parts," Justin told Betty, sitting with her in the waiting room. It had been another hour, and still they hadn't heard anything from the doctor. Bobby and Hilda sat a few seats away, Hilda absentmindedly bouncing Ricky on her knee as her and Bobby spoke in low tones. Daniel sat beside Betty, pretending to listen to Justin. Betty could tell from his listless stare that he couldn't repeat a word her nephew said over the past twenty minutes.
"Can you imagine America without those fabulous 50s swing dresses?" Justin continued. "It's going to be a complete disaster. I tried to tell the director that, but he just went on about how West Side Story has this timeless story that can be adapted to any era. Which is totally wrong, because what makes the show so wonderful is the fact that it does take place in the 1950s."
"Yeah," Betty said evasively, glancing at Daniel. He was hunched forward in his seat, elbows resting on his knees and hands clasped.
"Oh, and you should see what they did to Maria's white party dress. You know, the one she wears when her and Tony meet?"
Betty nodded. "Sure, the one with the red sash."
"They changed it to this white tube dress and red heels. When I saw it I almost dropped out right on the spot."
"That does sound awful," Betty admitted.
"And that is why you shouldn't mess with the classics," Justin said with a note of finality. He grew silent, glancing over at Bobby and his mom. Bobby had his arm around Hilda's shoulder, the latter dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. Betty looked at Justin and noted the drawn, tired shadows on his face. He'd been so animated while talking about his show, but she saw now it had only been a façade.
"Grandpa's going to be okay, right?" he asked in a soft voice. "I mean, it was pretty scary. We were over there for dinner, and he just fell over."
Betty swallowed hard. "Yeah, Justin, Grandpa's going to be fine. He…" she trailed off, remembering what Daniel had said in the car. "…he's a fighter."
She glanced toward Daniel and their eyes met.
"You know why your Grandpa is going to be okay?" Daniel said, drawing Justin's attention. "Because he has a great family like yours. No one wants to let go of something like that. He'll come back to you guys."
Justin gave him a watery smile, nodding as he reached up and wiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater. Daniel shifted in his seat and said, "You guys want a coffee or something? I think I'm going to head down to the cafeteria."
"Can I have a diet Coke?" Justin said.
"Yeah, sure Justin."
"I'll come with you," Betty said, standing up. "I think it'd be nice to have a change of scenery."
He nodded and then glanced over at Hilda and Bobby, asking if they wanted anything. They said they were fine, and Betty and Daniel began to move toward the hallway when a man in scrubs walked toward them and asked, "Are you all the family of Ignacio Suarez?"
Betty inhaled sharply, immediately reaching for Daniel's hand. She realized a beat later what she had done, but when she went to pull away he gently squeezed her hand.
"We just finished Ignacio's surgery, and I'm happy to say it went very well."
Betty let out a breath she wasn't aware she had been holding, and she glanced up at Daniel with a wide grin. Her dad was okay. He was somewhere in the hospital, very much alive, and she could be better. She could go to the dinners and call like she was supposed to. She had a second chance.
"His heart attack caused a rupture in the lining of his heart, but we were able to repair it. He's in recovery right now, and you should be able to see him soon."
"Thank you so much, Doctor," Hilda said, reaching forward and shaking his hand fervently. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. A nurse will come out and get you when he's ready for visitors."
The doctor walked back into the main hospital and Hilda walked toward Betty, a wide grin pulled on her face as she threw her arms around Betty, squeezing her tightly. Hilda sobered slightly as she hugged Betty and she murmured, "That was close. Too close, Betty."
"But, he's okay," Betty reminded her, pulling away slightly to look her sister in the eye.
Hilda nodded quickly, seemingly convincing herself with the excessive head nodding. "You're right. He's okay. But, oh, am I going to talk to Elena about what he's eating. I saw in his fridge all of these tacos and things that he shouldn't be eating!"
Betty heard Daniel's phone go off behind her and she turned around and watched him answer. His eyebrows furrowed together as he heard whatever was being said on the other line, and then he said, "Alright, alright, I'll be right there. Don't send anything to print until I look at it, okay?"
He hung up and Betty asked, "What's going on?"
"Some layouts got all messed up," he said, slipping the phone into the pocket of his suit. "I need to go and figure out what happened."
"Sure, okay. Thank you again for being here. I – " she stopped herself, remembering what he had said earlier. "My dad would be really touched that you stayed."
"You'll keep me updated on how he's doing?"
"Yeah, of course."
He paused for a moment and she felt a strong yearning to reach forward and press her cheek against his chest; feel his strong arms encircle her waist. She almost stepped toward him but then he was moving and telling her that he had to say goodbye to Hilda and Bobby. She nodded silently, staring down the hallway as he stepped around her and seeing nothing.
Betty went back with Hilda and Bobby to their house that night, wanting to be close with her family after everything that had happened. Bobby and Justin went to bed and Hilda tucked Ricky into his crib. After that it was just her and Betty on the couch, both sipping from glasses of wine with a bowl of Cool Ranch Doritos on the coffee table.
"So, what's going on with you and Daniel?" Hilda asked, crunchily biting a Dorito.
"What? Nothing?"
"I definitely sensed something at the hospital," Hilda pressed. "Sometimes the way you two would look at each other…" she trailed off, smiling a bit. "…it reminds me of Bobby and I."
"There's nothing between us," Betty said, taking a sip of her wine. "Believe me, that's not happening anytime soon."
"He visited you in London, didn't he? Right when you started down there?"
Betty nodded. "Yeah. But, we were friends. That's what friends do."
Hilda tilted her head to the side and said, "What's with the 'were', huh? He was here today."
Betty slouched on the couch, stretching her legs out and propping them on the table.
"Things are just different now. It's a long story."
"After a day like today, I could use a long story," Hilda said.
Betty hesitated. She never told Hilda the story, because she was afraid of what she would think. Telling Marc and Amanda was easy because they'd done things way worse than her all in one weekend. Then again, Hilda wasn't exactly a saint. But something about telling her sister was different. Her opinion mattered more.
"If you don't tell me now I'll just liquor you up and hear it later," Hilda said in a remarkably straight voice. Betty glanced at her sister and laughed at the look she was giving her.
"Okay, fine, but you can't judge me, okay?"
"No judgment," Hilda promised. "Now, what happened? Tell me!"
Betty told her the entire story, putting in even some details that she hadn't shared with Marc and Amanda. She told Hilda how right it had felt in the moment, and how something was there that she'd never had with Walter, Henry, or Gio. She told her about the next morning, and how she had almost asked him to stay. He looked so good in her bed with his hair all ruffled, but then she started to think about what would happen if he did stay, and how everything would be different.
"I really hurt him," Betty said, gaze down in her wine glass. "I didn't know I was even capable of hurting him, but I did. I was just so afraid of what would happen next. I didn't want to lose him, but that ended up happening anyway."
"Oh Betty," Hilda murmured. "You didn't lose him."
"Yeah, I kind of did. Things are so awkward at the office. We barely talk, and when we do it's these stilted sentences."
"He was here tonight. That counts for something."
Betty shook her head. "He was there for Dad, not me."
Hilda snorted and returned, "If you believe that, then you're as dense as Gina Gambarro."
Betty shrugged, leaning her head back against the cushion. "It doesn't matter, anyway. Before, all I wanted was to be his friend, but now just being friends wouldn't be enough."
"Betty, that matters. That matters a lot."
"No," she said, finishing her wine. She reached forward for the bottle and filled her glass up again. "He's engaged. To his new assistant." Hilda was silent and Betty said, "See? So, it doesn't really matter. It's done."
"I can't believe what I'm seeing right now," Hilda said, voice soft but hard. "You're giving up. After everything you two have gone through, you're just giving up?"
"There's no point, Hilda," Betty sighed. "He's marrying this tall, gorgeous glamazon-"
"And I bet he doesn't look at her the way he looks at you," Hilda interrupted. "Guys do not drop everything and go to another country for a girl because they're friends. They do it because they're in love."
"Hilda-"
"And you love him, too."
After everything that had happened that day, Betty didn't have the energy to argue. In any event, Hilda was right. She didn't know about the Danny part, but she did love him. As terrible a thing that was considering everything happening, she had no say in the matter. She couldn't stop loving him any more than she could stop her heart beating.
"Don't you dare give up," Hilda said. "You're a Suarez. We don't give up."
A/N: I told you guys there'd be lots of Betty/Daniel in this! Let me know your thoughts!