Daniel had a massage.
He told himself he needed it. He was stressed. He was under vast pressure. He had immense responsibility and needed a break in his busy schedule. Plus he had a chance to check out the goon who had touched Betty, front and back, yesterday. He didn't take her word for the man being a professional. She would say anything to ease him.
Massage guy was no threat. To Betty. Massage guy was absolutely no threat to Betty. Daniel could smell the guy was gay. And Betty had never liked the wiry, spiked blonde guys with barb wire tattoos. Betty liked – dark guys. Walter, Henry, Gio… all dark guys. Jesse – not dark. But nothing like massage guy. No barb wire tattoos, as far as Daniel could remember. Who else were there? Not many. No one serious. A few dates. Various collection of fellas he couldn't visualize. He hadn't paid so much attention to her love life.
Massage guy worked wonders.
Office felt empty. Daniel realized it was because Betty wasn't there. He wanted to tell her how awesome the massage was. She had to be in the showroom.
Daniel smiled. He smiled a lot these days. Life wasn't bad. He figured Fashion Week would be a hoot for them this year. And the high would continue. He could go on smiling. He just needed to get rid of Becks. Wasn't there any wars going on anywhere? There always was, and Becks always felt an urge to cover these. Now was a great time for a scoop. National Geographic would applaud. He would applaud.
He spotted Betty before she saw him. Busy as always. Rushing into the room. He was about to call out her name when he saw Becks following her, and Daniel hid behind a door. He could follow what happened – neither she nor Becks would notice him peaking.
She turned, and Daniel could see how angry she was. Good! She gave Becks a good scolding. Betty knew how to handle them!
Daniel was proud of her.
Becks photographed. He made a point out of it. Daniel realized he had been manipulated. Bored, his ass! Becks had found a way to get near Betty – with Daniel's permission. And he couldn't possibly make more drama and pull him out of the showroom by his hair.
Betty spoke.
Daniel wished he could hear what she said. It somehow reached Becks. He backed out.
And he kissed her.
Daniel couldn't breathe for a second. He clenched his fists. His eye had just recovered. He couldn't leap out at Becks again. She didn't seem to mind the kiss. She stood like in – awe. And he wanted to shake her out of the magic spell – but she would hate to know he'd seen the kiss. He hated the mere thought of it.
Luckily Christina was there.
- I saw that! she yelled, never giving Betty a chance to reply before she asked: – He is massage guy?
He is massage guy?
Daniel felt his knees weaken. Massage guy? Becks? Well, he couldn't be. He had napped in Daniel's office while Betty was out for the massage.
Daniel stumbled out to the streets and the chilly air. He saw imaginary flashes of Becks massaging Betty. They were impossible to escape. The puzzle was impossible. Or maybe not. It actually made sense.
Becks had given in. Becks never gave in. Becks had forgotten about the challenge, he had stayed home with him when he could have been out chasing girls.
All out of character.
Which meant Becks hadn't given in. He hadn't listened to a word Daniel had said. He hadn't given up on the challenge. He hadn't stayed away from Betty. Becks had made his evil twist – Betty was his challenge!
The roses – he had suggested Becks to send her roses. And she had liked them. Daniel had caught her gazing at them more than once, thoughtfully touching them, but he hadn't thought any more of it. He believed Betty was too smart to fall for the fake crap Becks had to offer. He believed she saw through that. She had seen him do it all – too often…
The roses and the massage. Sweet gifts. Sweet, thoughtful gifts Betty would appreciate. There had to be more. Roses wouldn't buy her. Wouldn't sway her.
Daniel ran back to the office. He was sure he looked like a madman, but didn't care. He had to know what he was up to before he accused Becks. He had to do it without hurting Betty. She was the victim in this. Becks was a rattle snake. Why didn't Adam get rid of all snakes when he had a chance, way back in the Garden of Eden?
He searched Betty's desk. He pulled out all drawers. He didn't care that people stared at him. He was one third of Meade Publications. He could do what he wanted within the Meade walls. He found the card that had followed the flowers. Had to be. It was Becks' handwriting. He had bothered to walk to a florist's and write the card that followed the roses.
"Respectfully. Beckett S".
Daniel crushed the card in his hand and let it fall to the floor. He found the collection of poetry. Lord Byron?
Becks had seen Betty and talked with her. Intelligent conversation? Daniel remembered how Becks didn't show up for lunch. He had found Betty. He had taken her to lunch while Daniel thought she was out with Christina. He remembered the courier. How she hid something under his desk and blushed. The book, of course. The supposedly honest words in Beckett's writing must have hit Betty's innocent heart like a scud rocket.
He would strangle Becks when he saw him.
Roses, poetry and massage.
Beckett had solved the Betty code. Becks had kissed her and she had let that happen. She hadn't slapped his face. Becks had left her – speechless. Daniel thought he remembered a smile on her lips. The lips Becks had kissed.
Was he losing Betty?
Pain through his brain. Pain through his chest. Losing Betty? The thought was impossible to comprehend.
More fantasy flashes: Betty giggling showing off an engagement ring. Bachelor party. Becks would expect him to throw it. Betty walking the aisle towards him. Becks would want him as best man. Her big, bright, happy smile was a knife through his heart. Betty in Becks' arms. More Betty in Becks' arms.
Alternatively: Becks brushing Betty off her feet. Betty blushing. Whilrlwind romance lasting a full day and night. Or a week. Or a month. Becks dumping her once he had proven his point.
Daniel twisted a paperclip, bent and twisted and ended up with a ring.
He bent his neck in agony. His subconscious knew. He just hadn't dared face the truth. God, what a fool he was!
- I can't undress in public! Betty protested.
Christina didn't listen.
- If you don't hurry, pet, I'll have to drag you with me on the runway in your undies, and I swear that will be more embarrassing.
- I'm not entering the runway!
- Oh, but you are. You promised to hold my hand! And you better get into that dress before that kissing photojourno is back. Don't want him to portray you in knickers and bra!
Betty didn't.
She had imagined she'd put on the dress later. For the party. Christina had other ideas. She let the dressers undress and dress her, and Betty hated every second of it. She felt uncomfortable between the slim, long legged models with expressionless, blasé faces. This was nothing to them. They didn't care who saw them in their underwear. So far no one Betty didn't know had seen her in hers…
- Color is great for you, honey, one of the dressers said.
- Um – isn't it like too red? Betty asked.
- No, the dresser said.
- No, said Christina, in stylish black. – Red is perfect for you, doll. Everybody notices the girl in red. She is always asked to dance.
Betty didn't know if she really wanted to be noticed by everybody. But she liked to dance. She hadn't seen Becks dance, but assumed he did. Well. Fellas from his world, fellas of his class, always knew how to behave and how to chit chat and how to dance and which fork to use when and for what. It came so easy for guys like Becks and Daniel.
If no one else asked her to dance, Daniel would.
- Red. Um, is it really – like me? Isn't it a provoking color?
- It is power, Christina grinned. – Girl power. I have some stunning red Valentino's with heels that will give you even more power. Stiletto is Italian for dagger, did you know?
Betty didn't want to learn more Italian glossary.
- Makes sense, Christina said as the dress was fitted perfectly. – You can kill with a stiletto. It gives her strength. Makes a woman stand taller. Makes her walk like a goddess, providing she's smart enough to tighten her tummy muscles and not bend her knees too much. Goddess walk; tummy and knees! Remember! Stilettos make a woman graceful and strong.
- Makes her stumble and fall like a clown, Betty continued.
- Nonsense. Now your hair and makeup!
Christina commanded Betty to sit down. That was hard as the dress didn't allow her to widen her lungs much, and the stylist removed her glasses so she didn't see what was going on. It involved kohl and shadows and mascara and foundations and lipstick and hairspray – and she feared the result, having volunteered as a test rabbit for her sister one too many times.
The result wasn't scary. She looked herself. The colors were – her colors. Her hair was up. Not the dramatic Hilda-way, just casually. It was nice. And no one said she had to take off the glasses. Betty realized the dress matched her glasses, and a rush of love for Christina filled her.
- You haven't made me be someone else, she said in relief.
- Why would I? You are quite perfect as you are, Christina smiled. – You don't think it's too bare?
Betty looked down and blushed. She did show a lot of cleavage. Even Hilda would call it dary, but all the same it wasn't trashy. It was stylish. But she feared something could – fall out.
- Erhm – a bit naked, yes. Maybe a shawl?
- Later, Christina winked an eye. – I have a lovely shawl in cashmere wool, in my clan pattern. If I give it to you, we are practically blood sisters, you know. You'll be Scottish, darling.
-I'd love to be Scottish, Betty said, hugging her friend.
- Later, now you only have to be a hottie!
Model after model entered the catwalk. Christina's collection was a success. The applause reached them backstage, and Betty found herself jumping up and down. She was immensely happy to be sharing this moment with Christina. This was her big break trough. She could sense that. After today everybody in the fashion world know Christina's name.
The last model had done her mechanic trotting. Christina grabbed Betty's arm.
- Come on, darling!
- I can't!
Betty wasn't ready to meet an audience. She loved her dress. But it was very revealing. The silk fondled her body. It was a glove, yet she could walk in it – barely. It was classic and showed temper, it lifted and draped and showed a body Betty never had seen in her mirror. It was her – and still a stranger.
- I have no shoes!
- Where are the blasted Valentino's? Christina yelled so loud they had to hear her in the audience.
No one found the shoes, and Christina knew she couldn't drag it out. She clasped Betty's hand and walked out on the catwalk with her.
- Smile, darling, she whispered. – Smile!
Daniel was very aware of the empty chair next to his. DJ was wide eyed by his other side. Smile would have gone all the way round his skull hadn't his ears been there. Daniel felt the weight of parental conscience, of responsibility.
And his heart ached.
Beckett wasn't backstage – where Betty was. Beckett was all over, photographing every model from all angles, photographing the most important of the very important among the audience. Beckett was professional.
Massage guy.
Christina had wanted Betty backstage. He had wanted Betty next to him – but Christina was Betty's best friend. He had backed out. It was the decent thing to do. He hadn't seen her since he had witnessed her kiss Becks. He had spoken with Christina. She wouldn't let him backstage. Becks had been backstage. Daniel was aching within.
Was she kissing Becks earlier? Was that why Christina didn't let him come there?
Beckett moved among the audience. He wasn't anywhere near Betty anylonger. Daniel could breathe.
Becks had moved rapidly. There couldn't be many more gifts before he made the final move. Becks in Betty's apartment. Becks back in Betty's bed. This time welcomed. This time invited – not out of pity…
Daniel didn't want to think. He didn't need these fantasies. They were tormenting.
- Dad, you look real mad, DJ said, brows pulled together. – You don't like the collection, non? You don't think the models are pretty?
- Collection is fine, Daniel breathed. – My tie is a bit narrow.
- The models are very beautiful, DJ said in a knowing tone. – I liked the red head.
Daniel grinned. He didn't remember any red head. He didn't remember any of the models – or the clothes for that matter. Nut if DJ liked what he saw, it had to be good. His son had inherited the eye for style and beauty - from his mother.
They waited for Christina. The pause was lengthy.
- Hey, that's Betty, DJ said and pointed. – I didn't know she had such a figure!
Daniel forced his jaws together. He wasn't really surprised, but noticed Becks was. He saw his friend closing up on Betty and Christina as they walked the runway to the standing ovations. Becks had his camera almost touching Betty. She was bare feet.
He swallowed, he saw the recognition in Beckett's eyes – and he knew it wasn't as real as his own emotions. Daniel had never been impulsive when he faced something important, when he had to close up on something real. He had never dared take chances in his personal life. He had drifted and off and on been saved by his mother – and in younger years by his father. He had never dared leap – as he was afraid of being hurt. Rejected. Left alone.
This time he didn't think.
Becks was impulsive. Becks didn't care. Most of all: Becks didn't care about Betty.
He jumped up on the runway. He walked towards Christina and Betty. The audience thought this was planned. They applauded even more. Daniel paused just in front of them. He fell to one knee and fumbled in his pockets. He was a fool. He knew he was a fool, but better a fool than never tell her what he felt.
- Betty, he said, - I love you. Will you marry me?
He held the paper clip ring between his fingers, he presented it like it was a huge diamond, and he risked her believing it was a joke. But if she doubted his sincerity, they weren't meant to be anyway.
Her cheeks flushed. She pressed a hand to her bosom. She smiled. She breathed hard.
- I truly love you, he heard a voice stutter. – Truly. Madly. I just realized, an hour ago. Maybe two. When I was having a massage…
- You had a massage? she asked, astonished.
At least that wasn't a blunt no.
- I had a massage, and I wanted to tell you, and one thing took the other – and I understood I love you. That I have loved you a very long time. Maybe always. Well, I have obviously not loved you always, as I haven't known you always, but I have loved you – long. And I can't imagine any day without you. I want to be in your life. I want to love you. I want to hear your laughter and see your smile and talk to you every day. I want to hold you. I want to kiss you…
He breathed.
- What happened to your brows? he asked confused.
- Picked. Yesterday. At the spa?
- Massage guy picked them?
Betty grimaced. She and Christina exchanged glances.
- My beautician picked them.
Daniel could picture that. Tattooed massage guy with tweezers had been too odd a vision.
- You proposing, Daniel? Christina said, hands on hips. – You truly proposing?
He nodded. The knee deep position was slightly uncomfortable.
- And you love her – for real?
He nodded once more.
- What do you say, pet? Christina smiled at Betty. – I told you the girls in red get to dance, didn't I?
- Marry me, Betty! Daniel begged.
She seemed to think it through. He hoped she didn't need to consider it too long. His knee was hurting badly.
- Yes, she eventually said and held her left hand so he could slide the paper clip ring onto her finger.
Christina had to help him up. The audience was applauding. They continued clapping as Daniel kissed Betty and she kissed him back.
She made it into the newspapers. She made it into the limelight section where she showed the world the paper clip ring.
She smiled like someone had paid her to do so, and Daniel kissed her cheek and they looked absolutely silly and hundred per cent in love. It was funny – Betty hadn't realized she loved him till she saw him kneel in front of her with all those people watching. Then she was convinced it was right. Daniel was right. He was her best friend. He knew her better than anyone. They had no secrets – well practically no secrets the other knew nothing about.
She didn't need the madness the machistos could offer her.
She smiled into Beck's camera.
She smiled at Daniel. She was convinced. This was it.
- I love you too, she told Daniel.
He of course insisted on buying her a real diamond. She wore it with pride, and she never parted with the paper clip ring.
Becks disappeared to some war zone. He stated he had seen it all coming. That he had made it happen. Beckett Scott – Cupid's little helper?
Yeah, right!