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"He kissed you?!" Hilda exclaimed. "Did you kiss back?"
"Yes . . . but -" Betty excused.
"Unh-uh! But nothing, Mamita! That man is someone else's man – what the hell were you thinking?!" Hilda slapped her arm.
"Ow!" Betty exclaimed. "Will you let me finish?!"
"First, Maggie and I had a talk," Betty continued and showed her a pic of Maggie and Daniel on her phone.
"Wait – that's Maggie?! How could you leave that part out all this time?" Hilda berated her.
"What part?" Betty asked, oblivious.
"Honey, she's the Korean version of you!" Hilda exclaimed.
"What?! No she isn't! Really?" Betty denied.
"Hair, body type, glasses you used to wear . . ." Hilda argued.
"Maybe a little . . ." Betty conceded.
"I'm tellin' you, Chica, if she has the same personality, she could be your twin," Hilda insisted.
"If by personality you mean selfish, manipulative bitch, then I'd say you're wrong," Betty remarked.
"Whoa, back it up! What happened? I used to have to pry those words out of your mouth 'cuz you were too afraid to say anything negative about her. What changed?" Hilda asked.
"If you had let me finish, I would have told you," Betty huffed and attempted to finish the rest of her story. "Maggie told me that she was using Daniel for sex and to gain accounts for her firm."
"Seriously?!" Hilda replied, skeptically. "She just offered you that info upfront?"
"After calling me a bitch and a slut, yeah," Betty confirmed.
"This is hilarious! Daniel Meade finally gets the payback he deserves!" Hilda laughed.
"Hilda! This isn't funny, damn it! It's horrible!" Betty smacked her.
"What?! You can't tell me that it doesn't feel just a little satisfying," Hilda argued. "I mean Daniel's been really good to you, and I know you still love him, but he also broke your heart. It's nice to see someone will finally break his."
"I already broke it, Hilda. We broke each other's. He was trying to move on. He was going to marry her," Betty defended him.
"Wow . . . I take it back," Hilda stood down. "So he kissed you after you told him – you did tell him?"
"I told him, but he kissed me before I did. I kissed back for a moment because I knew. But I pulled away because I wasn't about to get in the middle of it. Daniel needed to work everything out with Maggie without me," Betty explained.
"Good. I think you need to stay far away from him while he deals with this shit. And if he does decide to leave her, make sure he actually does it before you do anything with him. You already got caught up in a triangle with Henry and Charlie, and all you ended up with was pain," Hilda advised.
"I know," Betty agreed.
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"I, uh, I talked to Maggie," Daniel said as he noticed Betty coming into his office the next morning.
"About?" Betty questioned.
"This," he held up Page 6 of one of the tabloids, which featured a large photo of the two of them kissing at the launch party with the caption 'Mag Mogul Make-out'.
"Oh my god! How could they do this?! I wanted press for our magazine, but not this!" Betty exclaimed, shocked and angered.
"Yeah, guess we should've thought about that before we kissed," he half-heartedly joked.
"You kissed me!" Betty corrected him.
"I didn't see you fighting me off," he flirtingly argued.
"Daniel . . ." she playfully warned.
"Maggie and I aren't moving in together – obviously," he calmly announced. "We decided that things aren't working out between us."
"Daniel, if you're doing this because of me, or that dumbass tabloid, then you shouldn't have. I told you that I didn't want to be the reason for your relationship falling apart," she said. "I only told you those things about Maggie because I was worried about you. And the kiss was just a kiss."
"It wasn't just a kiss – it was more than that . . . But I didn't end things with Maggie because of you, Betty - I did it for me. You made me see that I deserve to be with someone who loves me more than anything in the world . . . someone who would do anything for me. And Maggie . . . she isn't that person. I can't keep lying to her and lying to myself that we can make it work," Daniel explained. "She was only using me, anyway. She even admitted it herself."
"Oh, Daniel," Betty replied. "I'm so sorry."
"Yeah," he said, awkwardly clearing his throat. "You know that whole quit working by 7:00pm thing? It was so we could do what she wanted to do – watch her movies, eat at her restaurants, hang out with her friends. She didn't see me as a person, not really."
"Daniel . . ." she said, her heart breaking for him.
"So. Ready to start on the next issue?" he asked.
"A-Are you sure you don't want to talk about this more?" Betty asked.
"What's there to talk about? I broke up with my girlfriend. End of discussion," he dismissed her concern.
"Oookay . . ." she commented, deciding to stay out of it.
"What do you want me to say, Betty? That you were right about Maggie? That I love you just as much as I did six years ago – maybe even more? That I still want to be that guy for you?" he snapped.
"Daniel, I wasn't asking that – I'm not! I just want to help you through whatever you're feeling right now," she defended.
"You can't, Betty!" he claimed. "You're part of the problem! You're the reason I can't move on with my life!"
"And you're the reason why I can't move on with mine! But I'm not attacking you because of it! I was trying to be your friend!" she argued. "You know I can't tell what's going on with you. One minute, you're coming onto me and the next you're pushing me away - like I'm the one who's controlling what you're feeling. I tried so hard to stay out of this. I never wanted it to be this way."
Daniel was silent for a moment. He sat on the couch and tried to calm down.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lashed out at you. I'm just frustrated," he apologized.
"I guess you can't always choose the people you fall in love with," she observed.
"Yeah," he scoffed. "I'm, uh, I'm gonna need some time."
"Of course," she understood.
"Can we just be partners . . . friends?" he asked, quietly.
"Sure," she agreed.
"I don't think I can handle anything else right now," he sighed.
Betty nodded.
"So, I was thinking for our next cover we could try to get Melissa McCarthy?" she tried to change the subject.
"Seriously? You really think we could get her?" Daniel asked, incredulously.
"Yeah. Her publicist is a friend of a friend of the photographer we had on staff at Britain Vibe. I called him to see if it was even a possibility and he seemed to be on board with it if we were. It turns out she has an opening to do some publicity for the 'Ghostbusters' and 'Gilmore Girls' reboots so I told him we'd let him know," she explained. "So what do you think? Do we want her?"
"Are you kidding me? Betty, of course we want her! Damn . . . you've got some serious connections!" he grinned and raised his hand for a high-five.
Betty smiled back and hit it.
"You know what we could make the headline?" she giggled.
"What?" he asked, curiously.
"Double Booty – Melissa McCarthy Reboots Two Classics," she giggled.
Daniel chuckled.
"It's stupid . . . It was a joke," she told him.
"No . . . No, it has potential . . ." he pondered. "But are you sure that's the angle we want to take for the story? Don't we want to focus less on the superficial and more on real-life issues?"
"Plus Her Fave Fashion Go-Tos?" she thought aloud. "That helps women her size get suggestions on styles that might flatter their figures better? And maybe get her story on what made her get into acting, what her struggles have been, things like that?"
"Yeah . . . yeah that could work. I mean, we can work out the exact details, but that's something to go on. Hey, why don't you call her publicist back and set up a solid date? I'll go see if I can come up with a rough list of questions. We've got that meeting with the editors at 9:15am, and I thought maybe we could have lunch at noon and go over everything," he suggested.
"That's sounds good," Betty agreed.
"Okay, see you in twenty minutes?" he said, getting up.
"Okay," she smiled.
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Betty walked into her apartment that night feeling both relieved and sad. She felt bad that Daniel had been hurt. But she was glad that he was free from someone who didn't truly care about him. Now that they had both made it clear how they still felt about each other, maybe they could have their chance – when he was ready. She was willing to wait - she'd made it this long, after all. She went to sleep that night feeling somewhat hopeful.
The ringtone on her phone blasted her awake in the middle of the night. For the life of her she couldn't figure out who the hell was calling her. She groggily picked it up.
"What?" she responded, answering her FaceTime call.
"Did you have any idea how many shows you can stream? I can binge-watch practically any series I want!" he exclaimed, starting a normal conversation like it was the middle of the afternoon.
"Daniel?" Betty guessed, rubbing her eyes.
"Yeah?" he answered.
"Do you realize what time it is?" she asked, annoyed.
"It's 2:14am," he replied nonchalantly.
"Exactly. And in case you didn't realize, normal people are asleep right now," she informed him.
"You seem pissed," he said, surprised.
"Good observation," she replied. "Haven't we constituted the reasons for calling me in the middle of the night? What the hell is so important it couldn't wait 'til the morning?!"
"But it is morning," he playfully argued.
"Daniel!" Betty snapped.
"I'm sorry, Betty. I couldn't sleep and I started watching this show and then I didn't have anyone to talk to about it . . ." he trailed off.
"It's okay," she sighed and closed her eyes. "Would it help if I just stayed on with you?"
"Yeah, thanks," he answered. "You look so adorable right now . . . hair a mess, all cuddled up in your pjs . . . Reminds me of that picture Amanda took, except I'm witnessing the live thing."
"Stop it, you're making me self-conscious," she giggled.
"And you've got this cute little bit of drool in the corner of your mouth," he teased.
"Shut up! Good night, Daniel," Betty playfully threatened as she wiped her mouth, embarrassed.
Daniel chuckled.
"I'll stop, okay. Just stay on. You can even go to sleep if you want," he told her.
"You're gonna watch me sleep? Isn't that a little creepy?" she questioned.
"Come on, Betty. It's me, not some scary-ass stalker," he excused. "And you can put down your Ipad, if you don't want me to see you. Knowing you're still here is enough."
Betty's heart melted at his words.
"Okay," she timidly smiled and propped up her Ipad with the case's stand. He was right – he wasn't just anyone. It was actually kind of sweet. She closed her eyes again feeling comforted by his presence as well. "Nite, Daniel."
"Nite, Betty," he smiled back and eventually drifted off himself.
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"Hey, you doing anything today?" Daniel asked over the phone the next morning.
"I don't know, I was thinking of sleeping some more after last night," she teased.
"Sorry about that . . . I thought maybe we could do something, if you want?" he offered.
"Ok. But I thought you needed your space?" she asked, confused.
"I just meant space from jumping into another relationship. I'm too messed up to deal with love right now. It doesn't mean I couldn't use a friend, though," he explained.
"Sure. What did you have in mind?" Betty wondered.
"It's a nice day . . . wanna take a walk?" Daniel suggested.
"I'd love to. Where should I meet you?" she asked.
"I'll pick you up in twenty minutes," he told her.
"Great," she replied and got dressed.
They walked along the streets of the city, simply content with being together. For the longest time, neither one of them spoke. At one point, their hands accidentally brushed against each other and they both took the opportunity to hold on. They passed by a vendor selling blankets and decided to go to Central Park for a picnic.
"Shut up!" Betty playfully shoved his chest.
"What?!" he asked.
"Daniel, you can't tell me you've never had fried chicken before!" Betty laughed at him.
"I didn't say that – I said I've never had fast food fried chicken before. Our cook used to make it for Alex and me when our parents were having a dinner party. She'd serve it with her special mashed potato salad and homemade mac & cheese – never out of the box. She'd serve it on plastic plates just like the fancy ones the grown-ups ate off of and garnished them. She'd even give us sparkling cider in plastic champagne flutes to make us feel like we were just as important," he mused.
"Awww . . . that's so sweet," Betty gushed.
"I always wondered what happened to her," he sighed.
"Well, the unprivileged kids had to make do with the cheap fast food kind. So I guess you're slumming it today," she teased.
Daniel chuckled.
"This chicken is really good actually," he admitted. "Not as crazy about the potato salad or mac n cheese, but I love the coleslaw and I don't think anyone can screw up corn on the cob."
"I'm glad you like it," she smiled and watched as some kids chased each other. "It feels good to be home again."
"You didn't like London?" he asked.
"No, I did. It was a fun place to be – new and exciting for a while. But it never felt like home," she explained.
Daniel nodded.
"I felt the same about Paris . . . It was great spending time with Alexis and DJ, but I missed New York," he confessed, putting all of their trash into the paper bucket.
They both noticed a group of kids running toward an ice cream vendor and simultaneously looked at each other.
"Race you," Daniel challenged, and they bolted for the line. Only Betty tripped halfway there and fell, bringing Daniel down with her.
"Sorry," she giggled.
"It's okay – there's a Pinkberry across the street," he smiled and got lost in her eyes.
"Um, Daniel, we should get up – those kids are staring at us," Betty reluctantly broke the trance.
"Right. So, why don't I go get us something from Pinkberry?" he suggested, helping her up.
"Okay," she agreed, absently swinging their hands.
"Be right back," he said, giving her a quick peck on the cheek.
That was new . . . like the hand-holding, not exactly their normal friend-like behavior, but she wasn't complaining.
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Later that night, Daniel called her, moaning and groaning.
"Betty, I don't feel so good," he complained.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"My stomach hurts. I'm all queasy and it hurts," he whined. "Will you come over?"
Betty sighed and rolled her eyes. She'd told him not to eat so much frozen yogurt.
"Fine. I'm on my way," she told him.
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"Here, drink this and take these. They'll settle your stomach," Betty instructed as she sat beside Daniel on his bed, handing him a glass of ginger ale and some antacids.
"Thanks, and thanks for not saying 'I told you so'," he told her.
"You're welcome. And I'm not that mean – I was going to wait until you were feeling better," she smirked.
Daniel chuckled.
"Ow. Don't make me laugh," he groaned.
"Aww . . . poor baby," she mocked.
"Go away," he pouted.
"Come on, Daniel. You've gotta let me have a little fun," she coaxed.
"Yeah, okay," he conceded.
"When I was little, my mom used to rub my tummy to make it feel better," Betty mused.
"Did it work?" he asked.
"A little. It was more emotionally comforting than physically," she replied. "Here, turn over."
She placed her hand on his firm stomach and gently massaged it for a while.
"Feel any better?" she asked.
"Definitely," he gave a sexy smile as he placed his hand on hers.
"I'd better go, it's getting late," she excused, blushing.
"You could, stay?" he requested.
Betty was surprised, but intrigued.
"I mean, I'd worry about you getting back to your apartment alone," he covered. "Especially when you're still in your pajamas."
"Right. Okay," she agreed, a little disappointed it was only for safety reasons. "Do you have any blankets?"
"Yeah, right here," he smiled.
"Daniel, is this a good idea?" Betty wondered, shocked at his invitation.
"It's fine. You trust me, don't you?" he asked.
"Of course I do," she assured him.
"Then c'mere," he told her.
She timidly smiled and slowly got back on the bed. He pulled her close to him and turned out the light.
It was amazing being in Daniel's arms like that. She felt safe and wanted. He didn't have to ask her to stay. And he certainly didn't have to invite her in his bed, much less hold her like he was. She felt his chest slowly rise up and down and listened to him breathe. As he drifted off to sleep he looked so peaceful and incredibly sexy. If things continued to go right between them, she could end up going to sleep like this every night. And that was something she could definitely live with.
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"Morning," Daniel smiled. "Did you sleep okay?"
"Mmmhmm," Betty answered nervously. She wanted to say it was the best sleep she'd had in a long time, but figured saying as little as possible was best until she was certain of their situation.
"I made us some waffles," he said, putting down a tray and climbing in bed beside her.
"You cook, now?" she questioned.
"If you call figuring out how to use the toaster cooking then yeah," he joked.
"Oh," she smiled. Same old Daniel.
She put some syrup and butter on them and took a bite.
"You're an excellent cook," she teased.
"Thanks," he smiled and began to eat as well. "You doing anything today?"
"Lunch with my family," she answered.
"Oh . . . never mind," he said, disappointed.
"No, tell me," she insisted.
"Well, I thought maybe you'd wanna go see that new movie you've been talking about, but we can do it another time," he replied.
"Why don't you come with me and we can all go afterward? Everyone else has been wanting to see it, too," she suggested.
"Are you sure I wouldn't be in the way? I wouldn't want to ruin time with your family," he asked.
"Positive. You're always welcome, Daniel," she assured him.
"Thanks," he smiled. "I'd love to go."
"Great," she smiled back.
"You've got a little syrup . . . right there," he pointed to her mouth.
"Here?" she asked.
"No . . . right . . . there," he said, leaning over to get it for her with his lips. It startled her so much that she accidentally knocked the syrup bottle over and ruined the moment.
"Oh! Sorry! Damn it! I don't know how it happened. Oh, no! I got it all over your comforter. I'll buy you a new one!" she apologized, trying to clean it up with the napkins they had.
"Betty, it's okay," Daniel calmed her down. "It's not a big deal."
"Thanks. I promise I'll fix it," she swore.
"Betty, I mean it. Don't worry about it," he reassured her.
"Okay," she sighed, still feeling guilty.
"So is your dad cooking or were you going out to eat?" Daniel asked.
"We're going to this new Japanese restaurant in Queens. My dad's friend owns it," Betty answered.
"Cool," he replied.
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The next couple of weeks held more of the same . . . hands held, kisses on the cheek, dinners during the week, plans on the weekend, and sometimes unplanned sleepovers or calls in the middle of the night, similar to the night before. It was almost as if they were dating each other, only without the label or more of the benefits.
"Whoa, what happened to you?!" Daniel cringed as Betty opened the door to her apartment with frazzled hair, puffy eyes, and a short ratty summer robe that was covering her teddy bear boxers and a hot pink cami.
"Oh, I don't know. Some guy who claims he's my friend, but now I'm slowly beginning to think is my enemy, decided it'd be fun to wake me up at 2am to chat, again," she snarkily replied and started to slam the door in his face.
Daniel caught it and forced his way in.
"I was kidding. You look cute," he replied as he picked up a couple of grapes from her fruit bowl and plopped on the couch beside her. "Reminds me of when you stayed up all night that one time at MODE and had pencils and paperclips stuck in your hair."
"Nice cover," she smirked. "It's really winning me over."
Daniel chuckled and put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her against his side. She instinctively leaned her head on his shoulder.
"What are we doing?" she questioned after a moment.
"I thought we were relaxing on the couch. What did you think we were doing?" he asked.
"The same thing, only I really meant overall not just now," she said. "We hold hands, you kiss me on the cheek, call me in the middle of the night . . . physically hold me all night sometimes."
"I like hearing your voice or having you next to me when I can't sleep. And the other stuff . . . I don't know. I just kinda go on instinct. Is that awkward for you?" he asked, appearing to be a little disappointed.
"No! No, I like whatever it is we're doing. I'm just a little confused. After our agreement not to talk or do anything about . . . you know, I was surprised," she explained.
"Yeah, about that . . . Maybe I didn't need as much time as I thought to get over everything," he confessed.
"Are you saying you're ready to talk about it?" she asked.
"I'm saying I think we should just let things happen naturally – like we've been doing. We both know how we feel, right?" Daniel replied. "We don't need to talk about it, necessarily."
"Right," Betty agreed. "Except, I was wondering one thing – and don't get mad at me for asking this. You said you couldn't live without me and then you went and left me for six years without even talking to me. So obviously you did."
Daniel sighed.
"You're right, I did. I didn't want to, and it hurt like hell, but at that time I felt if I was going to try to get over you I had to do it like ripping off a Bandaid. No physical contact, no phone calls, no nothing," he explained.
"What about subscribing to my magazine?" she countered.
"That was more like my nicotine patch. Didn't help much," he answered. "What did you do?"
"To get over you? Well, you pretty much know all of it. Nothing worked of course, but I cried for days and literally gained twenty pounds when I realized you weren't coming back. I tried dating other men, but nothing went past the first date. And like I said, most of them were for mutual publicity gain anyway. Eventually, I just buried myself in my work," she said.
"Where did you go when you left? Nobody knew where you were," Betty wondered.
"To my family's summer house in Capri," he answered quietly. "It's beautiful there . . . really peaceful . . . you'd love it."
Betty gave him a bittersweet smile and leaned back against him, her head resting on his shoulder again.
"I was going to propose to you there," he quietly confessed.
She immediately looked up at him, wide-eyed.
"You really did have a plan for us," she said, surprised he had thought everything through. He usually was so impulsive.
"Don't act so shocked," he defended himself. "I told you it wasn't something I took lightly. It was us. And I quit my job and moved to another country for you. Does that sound like something I'd do without thinking about it?"
Betty playfully contemplated his question.
"Hey, you're not supposed to take that long! You're supposed to say 'no' and believe me!" he poked her stomach and began tickling her.
"Eeeeeekk! Daniel, stop it! Okay! I believe you!" she surrendered.
"Good," he said, his eyes flirting with her as he pulled her up.
Betty quieted for a minute and really looked at him. She couldn't believe everything they'd been through to get to this point – whatever it was.
"I'm sorry, Daniel," she apologized. "If I wasn't so logical about everything, we could've been married with four kids by now."
"Four kids, huh?" he asked, intrigued.
"Sorry. I-I said too much," she said, her face red. "I wish there was a censor in my brain that would stop me from talking."
"No. No, that sounds perfect, Betty. Don't ever feel like you can't say what's on your mind to me. It never stopped you in the past, so don't let it stop you now," he teased.
"Daniel . . ." Betty looked at him coyly.
"What?" he asked, innocently.
"Nothing," she smiled and snuggled into him.
Daniel absently weaved his fingers in and out of hers. She could stay like that for forever.
