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"It's been an entire week and I can't go anywhere in the building without people either clucking or whistling at me!" Daniel complained as he walked into Betty's office at Modest. He placed hot chocolate and some candy bars on her desk and flopped on her chaise. "Why'd Marc have to send Suzuki the footage?! He won't stop talking about it on Fashion TV. Where's a bigger fashion scandal when you need one? I could let Byron Woo out of the hetero closet . . .?"
Betty raised a judging eyebrow but stayed silent as she calmly sat at her desk and started eating one of the candy bars.
"Oh, c'mon, Betty! I thought you were my wife. Don't I get a little sympathy, here?" he pleaded.
"Daniel, you know I love you, but you totally deserve this. And you're not the only victim. I have to be married to you and get blamed for not stopping you from being such a stubborn dumbass in the first place. So thanks for that!" Betty smirked as she proceeded to look through photo proofs with a magnifier.
"Baby, how many times do I have to apologize to you?" he got up and sat on her desk beside her. "I guess I should know by now to listen to your advice."
"You're getting smarter already," she joked. "And if you want to deflect from your 'debriefing', why don't you try leaking something positive that the press think we don't want to get out yet? Like how Ella Emhoff is on the cover of our first issue, or that Meade is going digital with all of our publications."
"Yeah, I guess I could accidentally leak that and some photos from the shoot. With the election coming up, we might get some buzz going," he agreed, and looked over Betty's shoulder. "How did they turn out? Hopefully Amanda or Cliff was able to hide the hair on her pits. If not, I guess we'll just have to photoshop it out."
"Daniel, it's a form of feminist expression. Some women in Europe have been doing it for decades," she replied.
"Hey, I'm all for feminism, women's rights, equality, and beauty coming in all different shapes and sizes. But seriously, Betty," he cringed.
"Do you see me with any hair under my arms? However, I would hope you wouldn't leave me over something so trivial as that. After all, I stuck with you throughout your ridiculous beard phase during the pandemic and never said a word," Betty countered.
"You didn't have to. It lasted less than a week. Bella and Aiden kept sticking food in it and it just wasn't worth keeping. I swore you guys were ganging up on me," he mused. "Considering you threw a 'Daddy's Shaving!' party, I know you did."
Betty shrugged, sheepishly.
"Anyway . . . I believe it's up to each individual . . . and maybe their spouses could weigh in a little," she stated her opinion. "The photos turned out great, by the way. She's an awesome designer – look at the knit top she made! I'm thinking about this pic for the cover, and these for the feature article."
"I agree," he said. "And I'd like to add that there's nothing that you could do or say to get rid of me. You're stuck with me."
"Good," she smiled. "I'm still working on the article. She's all about being yourself and natural beauty. It's so inspiring and heartwarming to know that there are people in the fashion industry who aren't focused on completely altering someone's appearance or style to fit the mold. But could you read it when I'm done?"
"Sure," Daniel said, taking the proofs. "I'm gonna notify the art department about your choices and leak a couple of these to Suzuki."
"Wait," Betty stopped him. "I wanted to talk to you about this weekend."
"What about it?" he asked.
"Papi wants to throw us a 'Welcome Home' party," she said.
"Okay. That's nice of him. I'm assuming there's a problem, though, or you'd just tell me later," he inquired.
"He's already invited everyone – and by everyone I mean Marc and Wilhelmina," she answered, bracing for his reaction.
Daniel tried to keep his cool, when Amanda made an entrance.
"Somebody's looking finger lickin' good, today! Mmmm. Oh, hey, Daniel," Amanda greeted them. "I ran into some rep from Fruit Loops in the elevator. They wanna talk to you about modeling their dad underwear line. I told them to talk with Jagger."
"Are you sure it wasn't someone from Calvin Klein?" Daniel asked, hopefully. "Because Eva and I have always had a good business relationship."
"Positive. They won't even take Ty-Ty. Besides, way too many women, including me, have come between you and your Calvins. Right, Betty?" Amanda smirked.
Daniel groaned and ran his hands through his hair.
"Thank you, Amanda, for that disgusting trip down Memory Lane," Betty replied, perturbed.
"Yeah, thanks, Amanda. Don't you have some styling to do in The Closet?" Daniel asked, attempting to change the subject.
"How are the outfits for Simone Biles going?" Betty asked.
"She's so cute and tiny, I'm having to either work with girls' sizes or take women's tops and belt them as dresses," Amanda replied. "I wonder how she ever finds designer clothes that fit? Is there a Short & Sexy line I don't know about? Oooh . . . maybe I could start one for all the gymnasts and fun-sized celebrities?"
"Can you please just stick to styling the ones we have for our issues?" Betty asked, annoyed. "And get Lia to help with alterations - it'll free up more style possibilities."
"Someone's got their Granny panties in a bunch today. And what's with all the wrappers? Did you raid Ava and Bella's Toblerones they're selling for their dance convention?" Amanda wondered.
"No, Amanda. That was you when you discovered a single gray hair on your head," Betty corrected. "Daniel and Tyler had to pay for all of them."
Amanda gasped.
"You take that back, Beatriz Suarez-Meade! I have never had a gray hair in my entire life!" she denied, grabbing a candy bar and munching on it for comfort.
"Whatever makes you feel better, Amanda," Betty rolled her eyes, grabbed her candy bar back, and took another bite.
"Oh, no! Betty, don't fall off the burro!" Amanda ripped the chocolate from her hand. "It took you ten years to lose that baby bubble bump. You were just starting to look like a beautiful chunky chica again. Cancel all your meetings, forget dinner - we're hitting the gym! Daniel, hide all the junk food! We're gonna get our Bang-worthy Bonita back!"
"Should we tell her?" Daniel asked Betty.
"I think we probably should. Hilda's already figured it out and told Papi. And you told your mom. It's only a matter of time before Justin squeezes it out of Hilda or Bobby and has it spreading like wildfire," Betty agreed. "Plus, I'd like to bypass the gym tonight and be able to eat like a normal person."
"Amanda, we're pregnant," Daniel announced, grinning.
"Oh my god! Betty! There's gonna be another little burrito in the fam! And I'm gonna be an aunt again!" Amanda happily jumped up and down and hugged Betty and Daniel.
Marc walked in, overhearing them.
"Oh, for the love of Prada! Not this again! Hormones and cravings and hideous frumpy clothes and just hearing you get fatter – not to mention seeing you . . . I Do. Not. Need. It!" he dramatically ranted. "Besides, aren't you a little too old to pop out another piñata, Abuela? And don't even get me started on your Les Wexner wannabe over there . . ."
"Daniel's not like that anymore, Marc. But do you want me to reveal how many times you've pushed for a men's swimsuit or underwear issue of Mode, recently?" Betty playfully retorted as he hugged her. "And shut it, Grandpa! You're two years older than I am and just had another child six months ago."
Marc pulled away from Betty, feigning shock.
"Oh, yeah? Well . . . uh . . . at least I'm - you're . . . well . . . you . . ." he struggled with a comeback.
They all gave him weird looks.
"I'm sorry, were you talking?" Betty smirked.
"Damn it! It was so much easier to mock you when you were ugly!" Marc whined.
"Marc! I swear I'm gonna pummel your scrawny little ass if you don't shut the F up, right now!" Daniel lunged at him.
"Daniel!" Betty yelled, begging him to back off.
"Were! I said were! Past tense! Holy Gucci! Please don't hurt me! I haven't lived to see a gay man become President! Or even just a hetero woman! At least give me till November!" Marc ran with his arms flailing around the office.
"Daniel, calm down!" Betty urged her husband.
"This is between me and Marc, Betty," Daniel refused, continuing to chase him.
Marc ducked behind her chaise, then ran again when Daniel almost cornered him.
"I'm sick and tired of all his bullshit insults! You don't deserve them," Daniel yelled.
"Betty . . . ! My beautiful Chimichanga . . . ! Get your maniac matador away from me! Think of your godchildren - and Schmoopie, Jr.!" Marc immediately cowered under Betty's desk and pulled out his inhaler.
"Daniel! Stop!" Betty exclaimed.
"Yeah, Daniel. Pick on somebody your own size!" Amanda exclaimed as she and Betty caught and held him back. "Wait. I thought I was their fairy godmother?"
Daniel finally calmed down and they let him go.
"Marc, it's ok. You're safe," Betty assured him.
"You are, my sweet Mandy-Tans," Marc reassured her, getting out from under Betty's desk. "Just not in the legal sense."
"Oh!" she answered, satisfied. Then she frowned a little, realizing what it meant.
"I'm gonna get a coffee while you guys talk," Daniel excused, embarrassed at how he'd reacted, and attempted to escape.
"Freeze! Daniel. Office. Now!" Betty ordered.
"Oooo . . . Looks like somebody's gonna get spanked . . ." Amanda smiled mischievously. "Go get him, Betty! Hit that fine piece of ass!"
"Amanda!" both Betty and Marc reprimanded her.
"What?" she asked, clueless.
"Sorry, Marc," Daniel begrudgingly mumbled, and headed toward the door that joined his and Betty's offices.
Betty was right behind him and slammed it once they were both inside.
"Daniel! What the freaking hell was that?!" she exclaimed, furious at her husband's behavior. "It's like I'm running a daycare for delinquent children! Grow up, Peter Pan! You have kids of your own who act more mature! In fact, maybe next time I'll send you down to the Meade childcare center and let you explain to them why Daddy's in a time out?"
"I'm sorry, Betty! It's just he barged in there with his goddamn insults and after ruining my entire week with that leak to Suzuki . . . And he called you ugly. You know I can't stand that," Daniel defended.
"You almost literally harmed your employee, who happens to be my extremely good friend!" Betty added.
"Yeah, right," he scoffed, rolling his eyes.
"Daniel, you know that's how we are. Marc's like my insanely annoying brother. We rip on each other and are competitive sometimes. It may not be conventional, and it can certainly get out of hand occasionally, but it's our own weird love language. He's been there for me when I needed him. And I've done the same for him. You of all people should understand our unique bond. You and Alexis sort of have the same kind of relationship," Betty reminded her husband. "Now what's really going on with you?"
"You probably already know, so why don't you just tell me," he replied.
"You're stressed and taking it out on innocent – well, not completely innocent in this case – bystanders," Betty answered. "Attempting to save two companies, starting a new publication, moving back from another country, caring for two children, another on the way, you're getting older . . . You snapped."
"You're right, I did. Until this whole digital thing launches and we get some positive feedback, I'm gonna be a little on edge," he admitted. "What I wanna know is how you haven't been?"
"Daniel, I've had years of practice juggling a thousand things at once . . . crisis after crisis. I was your assistant, wasn't I?" she pointed out. "It's not that I'm not worried or don't care. I do. But I can't afford to flip out – especially not with this new baby of ours."
"Everything you had to deal with on a daily basis and you always had a positive attitude and a cheery smile. It still amazes me," he smiled and shook his head. "You had to have had some way of dealing with all the stress."
"I'd do what I still do today - I'd write in my journal," she said.
"Are you ever gonna let me see what you wrote about me back then?" he asked. "We've been married for thirteen and a half years."
"And we'll be married for a whole lot longer, if you stop asking me that question," she teased.
"Oh, c'mon, Betty! I can take it. I survived that blog entry you revealed to the entire world," he recalled. "It can't be any worse than that."
Betty stayed silent.
"Okay, now you've really got me intrigued," he said.
"Let's just say not everything I wrote about you was PG. You really pissed me off a few times – especially when you stopped talking to me before I left for London," she revealed.
"Did I get a reprieve when I showed up?" he asked.
"You did . . . Then I started writing very different beyond PG and beyond embarrassing entries about you," Betty confessed.
"Now we're definitely looking for that journal when we get home tonight!" Daniel insisted.
"Okay, okay. Fine. If you can manage to find it in one of our bazillion moving boxes, you can read it," she relented.
Daniel gave her a satisfied grin and held up his hand for a high five.
"Daniel," she admonished him. "These were my private thoughts."
"Dirty ones," he assumed, lowering his hand and giving her a sultry smile.
"Can you take your mind out of the gutter for two seconds and focus on why I had to drag you in here?" she sighed, frustrated.
Daniel started to make a witty reply, the corners of his mouth twitching, when Betty stopped him with a finger to his lips.
"And I swear if you make a smart-ass remark about an afternoon quickie, you'll be sleeping on the couch tonight," she warned him, trying not to laugh.
"With a body like yours, a guy's gotta try," he innocently shrugged, ran his hands along her figure and grabbed her ass.
"Daniel, I'm pregnant, bloated, and gassy. I'm eating everything in sight. You can't possibly find me attractive right now," she brushed him off.
"You're gorgeous and you're carrying our child. How could I not be?" he assured her. "Except, maybe lay off the bean dip for a while."
She made a face and gently shoved her husband's stomach in protest.
"Can we please focus on your anger management issues?" she asked.
"Alright. I'll start going to the gym more often . . . or install a punching bag in our basement," he conceded. "Maybe I'll even play on Bobby's basketball team and ask Tyler, too. He's been looking for a couple of new guys."
"Daniel, that's a great idea!" she smiled, encouragingly.
He shrugged.
"And if you need to talk, seriously need to talk about how you're feeling, I'm always here. So are all of our family and friends. You know we won't judge you. We love you," Betty reminded him with an affectionate hug. "But if you don't feel comfortable, you can always go to a therapist."
"I know. And thank you for always supporting me when I need it most," he softly kissed her lips.
"You still have to make things right between you and Marc," she reminded him.
"I will," he sighed, pressing his forehead to hers.
"You know, that brief time he was your assistant, I think Marc was relieved that he didn't constantly have to live in fear of being physically harmed or mentally abused," Betty mused. "You kinda ruined that for him, today."
"I know. I lost it on him. And despite all his criticisms and insults, he's been there for both of us. Hell, he even officiated our wedding. He just pushed too far today, when I was already on edge. I'll apologize for real this time," Daniel promised. "But you gotta admit, he's hilarious when he runs."
"Stop it! I'm supposed to be mad at you, right now," she giggled into his chest.
"But seriously, Betty, aren't there sometimes when you just wanna smack the hell out of him?" Daniel asked.
"All the time," she smiled, gave him a brief peck on the lips, and patted him on the ass. "Now, go!"
Daniel and Betty both headed back into her office to face Marc and Amanda when everything went black.