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Nervous didn't begin to describe how Daniel felt. He had arrived to pick Betty up for dinner at her new apartment in London and all he could think about was 'What if this was a mistake?'. What if he was setting himself up for rejection? Sure, he was Daniel Meade, heir to Meade Publications, loved by all women. But in truth, he knew Betty wasn't your typical woman – she was so much more. She was one of the few women who wasn't susceptible to his charm and saw him for who he really was. But could she see him as a man in love – with her?
It was the first time they would meet each other since the steps at Trafalgar Square that afternoon, since he'd followed her to London. What happened next could make or break their future together. A part of him kept reminding himself that Betty hadn't seemed mad at him for ignoring all of her calls and texts the past few weeks. She was in fact happy to see him – 'glad' he was there, said she'd 'love' to have him take her to dinner. And the way she'd flirted with him – smiling shyly, toying with her hair, looking at him with those beautiful brown eyes - did she know? Even if she did, there was no way to tell if she reciprocated those feelings - especially since she'd patted him on the back when they'd hugged. Maybe she'd taken the hint when he slid his hand down her arm and briefly grabbed her hand, reminding her that he'd call about their date? That was when she'd offered for him to be her assistant, and even turned her head to smile back at him as she'd walked away.
When he'd called to set up the details, he could hear someone giggling in the background. So apparently it was no secret at work. Betty had seemed nervous - almost as if they were strangers. But then again, he had been nervous too. He still was, and then some. Enough stalling - it was now or never.
Daniel held his breath and knocked on her door.
When Betty opened it, he couldn't find the words to express how beautiful she looked. Of course, she had always been beautiful. Only now she was wearing a black Dior cocktail dress that accentuated how much. Her dark brown hair was still long and wavy, like that afternoon. Her gorgeous chocolate eyes, barely covered by her new clear-framed glasses, seemed to look up at him with confusion.
"Daniel? Is something wrong?" Betty worried.
"No! You look . . . Amazing," he finally managed, handing her two dozen pink gerbera daisies. He remembered they were her favorite.
"Thank you," she blushed. She noticed Daniel's black Marc Jacobs suit and medium purple Isaac Mizrahi shirt, the first buttons undone. His piercing blue eyes were staring heatedly at her as if she were a naked Victoria Velez. "You look great, too."
They both took another minute to awkwardly gaze at each other before Betty finally invited Daniel inside her apartment.
"Yoga?" Daniel asked, skeptically, noticing the teal mat spread out on the living room floor.
"Yeah," Betty cringed, placing the flowers Daniel had brought her in a vase. "Lindsay's being pushed by the shareholders to have a health and fitness section in the new mag. It's supposed to promote a healthy lifestyle to the new generation. Our first issue will feature yoga and how it helps your body, mind, and spirit or whatever. I'm supposed to watch one of our advertisers' DVDs and learn how."
"Somehow I can't picture you doing yoga . . . No wait – I so can!" he snickered.
"Shut up!" she playfully shoved him.
They caught each other's eyes and stared quietly for a moment.
"Betty, I never got around to telling you why I'm here – well, why I'm still here, I mean," Daniel broke the silence.
"Daniel, I know," she said, taking his hand and leading him to sit on the couch.
"You do?" he asked, puzzled.
"Well, at least I think I do," she answered, staring at their hands then looking back up at him. "At first, I thought you were just having one of your five-year-old tantrums - when you set fire to my release form . . . and yourself."
Daniel crossed his arms and attempted to protest, but Betty motioned to let her finish.
"It was only when I turned down your offer to stay that I knew for sure you were really hurting and not just pouting because your ego was bruised. I could tell you were trying not to cry, like I was, and I just wanted to hold you and tell you how much you truly meant to me. After you wouldn't talk to me, I was afraid I would never have that chance. You hurt me, Daniel," she confessed.
"Betty, I -" Daniel attempted to interject, but was unsuccessful.
"But I know I hurt you, too, and I'm sorry – that was the last thing I ever wanted to do. That's why I kept putting off telling you in the first place. I was so scared of leaving everything and everyone I knew and loved behind. And when you did know, I didn't have you to tell me it would be okay, like you always had before. You wouldn't let me in – you wouldn't open up to me. And when you didn't even show up at my 'Goodbye' party, I thought for sure that you hated me. I thought your mom was imagining things when she indicated her theory. We were just really close friends. I guess I never believed that the reason you wouldn't speak to me or say "goodbye" was because -"
"I was developing feelings for you I couldn't explain," Daniel confirmed. "Hilda's speech, and then a talk we had later on at the reception, triggered a lot of questions in my mind about us."
"She got to you, too?" Betty asked.
"Yeah. And I couldn't tell you - I didn't really know how to answer them, myself, at the time. I thought we had all the time in the world to figure things out. It was hard to process how I felt, but I knew I couldn't let you go. And when I finally admitted the truth, I realized it wasn't right to keep you from your dreams."
"So is that why you quit MODE . . . for me?" Betty wondered.
Daniel hesitated, choosing his next words carefully.
"Yes, and no." he answered. "You know how we kept arguing about moving backward, not moving forward with our lives? Well, when I was going over the book for the last issue, it hit me that I wasn't going anywhere. Everyone else was moving on, and I was still living out my father's dream for me – not my own. Of course, following you here was definitely motivation to start fresh."
"Do you think you'd still be at MODE if I hadn't decided to leave?" she asked.
"I do. But this is a good thing for me and I'm thanking you for it. You pushed me to go out on my own, for once," he assured her.
Betty uncomfortably smiled, feeling both relief and a little pressure from Daniel's response. She hesitated before beginning to speak.
"Marc sent me a copy of the Letter from the Editor you wrote – after he gloated about being promoted to Creative Director and mentioned what an idiot you were and how fat I was, of course."
"Yeah, that's Marc," he rolled his eyes in amusement. "And you're not fat, Betty. You're beautiful."
"Thank you," she blushed. "And you're not an idiot."
"Thanks," Daniel replied.
They both smiled, knowing Marc loved them in his own weird way.
"So what exactly is 'the truth'?" Betty cautiously asked. "Were you actually talking about me in the letter . . . about us?"
Daniel pondered his choice in words, wanting to be honest, yet not too forward.
"The truth is that, yes, I was talking about us. I'm in love with you, Betty. You probably don't feel anywhere near the same, and that's okay, but I had to come here and let you know how I felt. I had to see if we had a chance."
Betty formed a look on her face that could only mean one thing in Daniel's mind – pity. His heart sunk as she began to speak the dreaded words.
"You're right – I don't," she confirmed his fear.
Daniel hung his head. Betty immediately lifted it up to face her.
"Hey. Daniel, look at me," she ran her fingers along his jawline and gazed into his saddened blue eyes. "I haven't really thought about it like you have. I do love you, but I never believed that it could be more than a friendship kind of love until you showed up here. It just seemed laughable – well, not laughable but you know what I mean. Maybe it's because of our working relationship, or because we both know a little too much about each other's pasts, or because we were so close as friends, but I never dared to go there – and trust me, Hilda tried her best to get me to."
"So that's a no?" Daniel assumed.
"No . . . Looking back, I think we've both grown and learned from our mistakes. And I'll have to admit that I couldn't help but feel a little like a junior high girl with a crush when you told me you were planning on staying here for a while and wanted to take me to dinner," Betty revealed. "Maybe my drunken self was trying to tell me something, that one night?"
He grinned, sheepishly.
"I guess what I'm saying is I'm willing to find out where this could go, if you are . . ." she admitted.
"Really?" he asked, hopefully.
"Really," Betty confirmed and timidly pulled him towards her, their lips meeting for the first time. Then she started to giggle.
"What? What's wrong? Do I have something on my mouth? Is it my breath? What?" Daniel asked, confused.
"No – it's nothing! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! It's just I'm kissing you," she explained. "My best friend and I are kissing . . . I'm sorry - I know it's not that funny - I think I'm just really nervous."
"Well it's kinda funny in an ironic way, but I don't think it's comically funny. But I guess you think we should book an act," Daniel pulled back, his pride obviously wounded. "I, uh, I've got some final paperwork to fill out back at the hotel. I'll see you around."
"No, Daniel, wait!" Betty exclaimed, begging him to stay. "I'm really sorry – I don't know what came over me. I think I started thinking too much about what we were doing instead of just getting lost in the moment. I want to try this again – please?"
Daniel took one look into her pleading brown eyes and couldn't refuse. Betty flipped on her stereo system and took his hands, leading him to an empty spot behind the couch.
"Why don't we just relax and let things happen naturally?" she suggested as Green River Ordinance's "Come On" played in the background.
"Okay," he agreed, dancing with her.
As the song ended, the music switched to a slower song he suddenly recognized. It was the same one they had held each other close to, near the end of the reception. Betty remembered it too, and closed the space between them. They swayed back and forth silently to "After Tonight", both thinking about that night and the memories they'd made.
Betty looked up at him, seeming to signal what she wanted with her eyes. Daniel cautiously brushed his lips against hers, softly and gently at first – waiting for another burst of amusement - but there wasn't one. Instead, a feeling of electricity came over them.
He parted her lips with his tongue, curious to explore what it felt like to truly kiss her. Betty responded eagerly, this time wanting the same. She tasted like strawberry lipgloss and spearmint gum. He couldn't get over how good it felt to finally be this close to her. He'd never experienced a kiss as intoxicating as hers - and he'd kissed a lot of women before. Was it because he was in love with her? He'd been in love with Molly and yet the passion and the chemistry weren't nearly as intense. There was something about Betty that was missing in every other relationship he'd had. He only hoped she could eventually feel the same about him. In any case, she was certainly reciprocating at the moment. Once both of their desires were fulfilled, they both pulled back, needing air.
"Wow . . . this definitely isn't so funny anymore," Betty quietly realized. "I'm so sorry I laughed. I feel horrible!"
She held him tightly, hoping he'd forgive her.
"Betty, it's okay – really. I wasn't expecting everything to be perfect. We're both still kinda new at this more-than-friends thing," Daniel responded, rubbing the small of her back and pecking the top of her head.
Silence set in as they took more time to process it all, holding each other the entire time. Being so close felt like home to them.
"You're sure you're okay with this?" he asked, slightly pulling back.
"It is a little weird . . . I mean it's us – kissing. But I don't think it's anything I couldn't get used to," she flirted and covered her lips with his again. "See? No laughing, already."
Daniel couldn't help but smile at Betty's efforts to prove to him she wanted to make things work.
"How about now?" he asked, giving her a kiss so heated her knees went weak.
"I don't think I'll ever see you as my dorky best friend again. I think I'm cured!" she teased, out of breath.
"Dorky? Hey!" Daniel feigned offense.
"Yes, Mr. High-five, Thumbs-up, Cheeto Tan," she reminded him.
"Fine – I'll admit that I can be a little . . . 'not cool' sometimes. But what about you, Miss Poncho-wearing, Butterfly-loving, Pink Bunny worshipper?" he countered.
"Point taken," Betty held up her hands in surrender.
"And speaking of Cheetos . . . where do you wanna go for dinner?" Daniel asked.
"Well, there are a lot of restaurants to choose from – despite what Papi tried to tell me – or we could order in?" she replied.
"Hey, I said I'd take you to dinner and I meant it. You deserve a night on the town," he insisted, caressing her cheek.
"Okay," Betty shyly smiled. "How about Italian?"
"Sounds great," Daniel agreed then noticed her spacing out for a minute. "Hey, are you okay?"
"Fine. It's just hard to believe this is happening – we're happening," she confessed. "I mean, one minute we're talking and teasing each other like normal, and the next . . ."
"If you're too uncomfortable, it's okay. I get it," he said.
"No! I'm glad you're here – that we have whatever it is we have. It seems so surreal, that's all," she confessed. "You quit your job and came across an ocean to follow me – who does that in real life?"
"We are in England – think I could get the queen to dub me a knight? Sir Daniel, my lady," he bowed.
"Daniel . . ." Betty rolled her eyes and smiled. "I should've known you'd get a big head over it."
"Guess that rules out any medieval restaurants in the future," he joked.
"Those are actually pretty fun," she replied.
"Betty, I was kidding – you didn't actually go to one of those things, did you? Wait a minute – of course you did," he teased.
"Hey – don't knock it 'til you've tried it! Henry and I had a great time there on Administrative Professionals' Day – other than Charlie getting in the way, of course . . ." Betty remembered.
"Grubstick, huh? Now we've gotta go to one – and I promise you you'll have a much better time without him around," Daniel scoffed.
"Daniel, not that again - I thought we were through with the childish games?" she berated him.
"I don't like the guy, okay? He broke your heart too many times and he almost did it again just recently. Can you blame me for hating him?" he defended.
"Maybe he would have. But you have no reason to be jealous of him anymore," Betty assured him. "He's in another country."
"Hey – I was never jealous of him. I was protective of you and the way he treated you – there's a difference," he clarified.
"Maybe the first few times, but the more I think about it, the more I think this last time was out of jealousy," she replied.
"I guess you're right – he stole my place as your date for the wedding and maybe on a subconscious level, I was a little jealous," he conceded.
"A little jealous – Daniel, you made him lose his job!" Betty argued.
"Okay, a lot jealous," Daniel admitted. "Honestly, we hadn't had much time to hang out with each other what with my family issues and you helping Hilda plan her wedding. I missed my friend. And you said 'date' not 'plus 1', so of course I was interested. I thought we were moving forward in our lives. It bugged me that the little bastard wormed his way back in again and you let him take my place."
"Daniel, he didn't 'worm his way back in' - I drunk-dialed him out of nowhere. And no one could ever take your place. You know that," she reassured him.
"I guess so . . . Can we let it go? How the hell did we start talking about that freakin' greaseball in the first place?" Daniel grumbled.
"You're right, I'm sorry. I don't know why I even brought him up. I know how much he's always bothered you," she rubbed his arm in apology. "Come on, let's go to Domo 94 – I'm starving!"
"You sure you don't want to stay here and do more of this . . .?" he asked, teasing her bottom lip and then her top.
"What happened to me deserving a night on the town?" she flirted, fingering the open collar of his shirt.
"We can still go if you want. But I thought maybe we could use the time to get more acquainted with each other?" Daniel suggested, drawing her in for another passionate kiss.
"Mmmm . . . I'll find the number for Thai," she firmly kissed him back and went to the kitchen.
Daniel chuckled with affection.
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"I've gotta admit this place was almost as good as New York," Daniel commented, propping his feet up on Betty's sectional.
"Just remember you owe me a real dinner, Meade!" she playfully reminded him, poking him in the chest.
Daniel grabbed her hand and pulled her down with him.
"I thought tonight was a mutual agreement?" his blue eyes danced.
"It was . . ." she agreed.
"So shouldn't I be off the hook?" he assumed.
"Nope," she smiled, deviously.
"Nope?!" he protested, tickling her.
"No! Eeeeekkk!" Betty squealed. "Okay! Okay! Yes! I give up!"
"You're too easy, you know that? I would've let you go after a few more seconds," he teased.
"Daniel!" she playfully smacked him. "Why do I put up with you?"
"Why wouldn't you? I wasn't New York's most eligible bachelor for nothing," he lightheartedly countered.
"You're incorrigible," Betty shook her head, smiling, and got up to clean the pile of cartons on the coffee table.
"Hey," Daniel said, quietly, touching her arm.
Betty put down the cartons and timidly sat back down beside him, knowing he was serious this time.
"Are we good? I mean, I know it was really awkward for you at first, but all this is starting to feel natural – at least for me. Like we're still the same friends we were - only more. But I don't know how you feel."
"I feel it, too . . . Better than friends," she described it.
"Exactly," Daniel grinned, pulling her in for a welcomed kiss.
"I never thought I'd say this . . . but I think I'm becoming addicted to kissing you," she muttered into his lips and drew him in again. "Is this what all the girls were talking about?"
Daniel grinned modestly.
"You're like a drug to me, too," he took his lips off of hers just long enough to admit. "I can't believe we wasted all this time."
"Me neither," she agreed, magnetized to him again.
Being with Betty, having her feel even a little of what he was feeling, was more incredible than he'd ever imagined.
