Seducing Mr. Meade

Disclaimer: I don't own Ugly Betty (or the Korean film this short detty-fied story is based on… 'Seducing Mr. Perfect').

A/N: This is the last thing on earth I need to be doing right now, starting a new story, when I will be starting a new job next week (finally, yay!), but, that being said, I just watched this adorable little movie I ran across on YouTube, and it's SO Detty! Anyway, in my interpretation of the film, Daniel is of course, "Mr. Perfect" and although some things will be close to canon, the way they are thrown together in the beginning will be somewhat different, but I'm sure you'll see where I'm going with this. Hope you enjoy this story as much as I did. (I was up all night watching it!)

Betty was rushing to get to her interview at Meade Publications. She didn't want to take a chance on getting anything spilled on her new outfit, so she borrowed her sister's boyfriend's car. Her reasoning was that they validated parking for applicants, so it was a cheaper option than taking a cab or town car.

Unfortunately, Bobby hadn't gotten around to actually teaching her much about shifting, just a quick and easy direction to let out the clutch, ease down on the gas.

She hadn't driven much at all recently, though and was therefore totally unprepared for just how bad the midtown traffic would be, at any time of day, so she was cutting the time for her interview a lot closer than she would have liked.

She looked briefly in the mirror, wondering if the makeup her sister had insisted on helping her wear was too much. She was trying to just touch up her lipstick when the stupid idiot in front of her slammed on his brakes and she hit him, smearing her lipstick across her cheek.

The guy in front of her got out of his Mercedes and stepped out, looking at the damage she had caused to his rear bumper. Shoot! Betty groaned inwardly, and jumped out of the car, to see the man look at her rather strangely, then smirk.

"Did you not learn that red means stop, Miss?" She started to respond, but found herself speechless. At least he didn't yell, for which she was extremely grateful, but he looked at her as his phone rang and held up a finger, "Just a second, I need to take this."

She heard his conversation, "Yes, Dad! I'm here now. I'll be in as soon as I deal with…parking. Yes, I'm driving! Alex taught me a long time ago. You told me I had to prove I could keep a job before I used any perks, remember? Fine. I'm on my way in a few minutes."

He snapped the phone back down and looked at Betty, who looked bewildered, not having a clue how she was ever going to pay for damages to such an expensive car.

He looked at her, almost seeming sympathetic. Betty wondered who this man's father was that thought so little of his son.

She started to speak again and stuttered, blushing profusely as she thought she noticed him checking out the very modest amount of cleavage she ws revealing in the black dress Hilda and Justin had convinced her to wear. He suddenly furrowed his brows, "Do you…speak English?"

She shrugged, still unable to figure out what to say. Of course she spoke English! What a rude, prejudiced man to assume, simply because she was Latina that meant she only spoke Spanish! In fact, she spoke very little Spanish and not that well.

But right now, he was waving his phone in front of her like she was some kind of idiot, "Look, can I just get your phone number then? I really don't have time to do the whole insurance thing right now. I'm running late for a huge meeting."

Annoyed with his apparent bigotry, she narrowed her eyes, and looked at him, helplessly, trying to remember the right words, "No, senor. Lo siento, pero yo no hablo Inglés." She knew her accent was terrible, but she somehow didn't think he would know the difference.

He nodded, then threw up his hands, and grabbed her cell phone, putting in his own number, then hitting send, so his phone rang. He held up his phone and smiled, "See, now I have your number, okay? Great! We'll sort this out later. Bye…uh, adios!"

Betty rolled her eyes as he hurried back in his car, and sped off to go park. She put her hand on her eyes, when she saw there was also some minor damage to Bobby's car.

She knew he used that car for driving lessons and she prayed Hilda wouldn't find out she had hit some rich guy's Mercedes or she'd never hear the end of it.

She took a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves, maybe she'd never hear from the guy? She could just get a different phone. He didn't look likely to come to Queens to hunt her down. She wasn't the kind to shirk her responsibility, though.

She just prayed that Bobby's insurance would cover her and that she would at least get this job, so she could immediately start paying half her salary to the handsome, but irritating man who's car she had hit for the rest of her life!

She checked herself in the rear view mirror. Crap! Had that streak of lipstick been on her face the whole time she was talking to Mr. Perfect Rich Guy? She wiped at it, and shook it off, tried to find the designated visitor parking area and get her parking ticket.

She had to make sure to get that ticket it validated, because there was no way in hell she was paying twenty-five dollars an hour. She was quickly regretting her decision to drive into the city now, thinking her usual mode of using public transportation might have been worth the extra 'hassle' in this case after all.

She sighed, pulling on her dress and closing her eyes, reciting Sofia Reyes' mantra she had been indoctrinating herself with ever since she graduated from Queen's college and started looking for a job in publishing, "You are an attractive, intelligent, confident business woman! You can do this, Betty!"

She hoped the pep talk to herself would be sufficient to get her through whatever awaited her inside the imposing building. She took one look up, trying not to be intimidated.

She sat, waiting in the outer office, a good hour had passed since she had 'checked in' at the receptionist's desk in the main lobby. After hearing some arguments going on in a few of the nearby offices, she was thrilled when she was given an office floor and name.

The receptionist gave her a bit of a haughty look, as she instructed her to take the elevator to the twenty-eighth floor, and go report to the front desk at Mode magazine.

"Mode?" She had no idea what that was, other than some women's fashion magazine that her young nephew knew far more about than she did.

Betty prided herself on knowing a quite a bit about almost all of the content of the twenty-two magazines under the Meade publishing empire.

Of course, Mode was the one she knew the least about! But no matter, she told herself, if she got the job in fact-checking for features or heck, even in the mail room to start, as long as she got her foot in the door here, she would learn all she could and go from there towards her eventual dream of owning her own magazine someday. Maybe lofty dreams for a young nobody from Queens, but Betty was smart, and ambitious and she had confidence in herself and a very positive attitude.

At least, she thought she did. Until she stepped up to the orange donut and had the girl behind the desk look at her and do a double take, "Uh…are you the before?" The blonde girl asked, looking at her dubiously.

"Sorry?"

The girl gave her the same rather impatient look the snooty man had given her, "Are you de-liv-er-ing something?"

Betty furrowed her brows, thinking these people must surely all be a bunch of racists. "No! I'm here to see…um…" She glanced at the paper the Human Resources department had handed her, "Mr. Daniel Meade? To interview for an assistant position?"

The blonde looked at Betty, obviously upset about something, "Oh, I don't think so, Pocahantas! Hang on!"

The girl called downstairs, turning her back to Betty, "This is Amanda at Mode. Whose bright idea was it to send some girl up here to interview as Daniel's assistant today? I was told…I see. He did? Okay, fine!" She hung up the phone, glaring at it, "Idiots!"

She turned around and gave Betty her best fake smile, "Right this way, follow me. Mr. Meade is just finishing up a meeting downstairs with his father. Just have a seat. He'll be right with you."

Betty tried to be pleasant, "Thank you."

Betty sat, wondering what this Daniel Meade was going to be like. She heard a man's voice outside, talking to the receptionist, as she whined rather loudly, "I thought you told ME I didn't have enough experience for the job, Daniel!

You went through that Charmaine woman in less than a week! Are you kidding with that one in there? She's hideous!"

Betty couldn't make out what the man was saying, but she stood up and extended her hand, planting a big smile on her face as the door closed and she turned to see the man whose car she had hit earlier.