Chapter Text
After Betty storms out of his office, Daniel sits down and thinks, fine. You want me to invite Trista, I'll invite Trista.
After finally getting in touch with her - Trista's surprisingly hard to reach, but he does get through after two texts and a voicemail – Daniel decides to tackle the next task: getting some paperwork signed by his mother. It's not urgent, which is why he's been putting it off, but it does need to get done this week. And as awkward as his relationship with his mom has become since Tyler invaded their lives, he doesn't want to avoid her forever. He can be the bigger man – after he lint-rolls his suit. And makes sure he has copies of those papers, and lays them neatly in a manila folder so they don't get crumpled. By the time he gets himself to the elevator, Betty is nowhere in sight, and he's relieved to not even have to consider taking the stairs.
When he walks through Mom's office door, he's surprised to see an older man standing in front of her desk with a balding head, expensive suit, and glasses. He looks familiar, but Daniel can't place him.
“Daniel,” Mom says, sounding more surprised than pleased. “You remember Lindsey Dunne.”
So that's who he is. Of course Daniel knows the name of Mode UK's biggest competitor. But he's pretty sure they've never met in person.
“Actually, you probably don't,” Dunne says, chuckling. “I don't think I've seen you - in person, that is - since you were five years old, toddling behind your father. Things have obviously changed.”
Daniel tightens his lips into a polite smile as he extends his hand. Dunne's condescending British-ness grates on him, even as he returns the handshake. Maybe he should come back another time.
“So what brings you here?” Mom asks. Daniel can't tell who she's talking to, but Dunne answers first.
“Just checking in on our foreign publications” - England's the foreign place, Daniel thinks - “and looking to hire for a new one.”
“What kind of new one?” Mom asks. Daniel feels every bit the sullen five-year-old Dunne remembers him to be.
“Think of it as The New Yorker for the 18-35 demographic: socially and culturally conscious...”
Daniel tunes Dunne out, hoping that he'll leave quickly if he sees he's not welcome. He walks around the side of the desk and lays the folder next to his mother's right arm, picking up a pen and tapping it against her wrist. She waves him off. It's only polite to wait.
“Actually,” Dunne says, with a slight cough, “I think I may have found a wonderful managing editor. There's no guarantee she'll take my offer, but I think she'll want to.”
“Anyone we know?” Daniel pipes up, intending the question as a joke. If he has to wait, he might as well make himself pleasant.
Dunne hesitates.
“Well, this is a bit embarrassing," he says, looking at the carpet for a moment. "Normally I wouldn't tell a competitor that I was planning to poach one of their prize employees, but since you brought it up, I think it's only fair.”
What does Dunne mean, it's only fair? Who could he possibly be talking about?
“I've asked Betty Suarez to help run the magazine.”
Daniel's eyes pop – not in the good way – and he grabs onto the back of his mother's chair for support. How on Earth does Dunne know Betty? And why is he thinking of hiring her?
His mother must look just as shocked, because Dunne looks sheepish now.
“I'm sorry,” he says. “I thought you knew she was searching. She interviewed with me during Fashion Week, and when I offered her an online job for our fashion magazine, she told me that she didn't want to work in fashion any more. After looking at her blog and her clips, it occurred to me that her voice would contribute a tremendous amount to our new publication. And since I was coming here anyway, I decided to ask her in person.”
Daniel's grip tightens as his knees buckle under him. Betty interviewed for another job? Why didn't she say anything?
As the silence drags on, Dunne starts to talk again.
“I did only offer her the job just now, and as I said, I'm not certain she'll take it. But I am hopeful.”
This is ridiculous, Daniel thinks. First Henry gets between them, and now Dunne? What does he have that Daniel doesn't?
“How much did you offer her?” Daniel asks, keeping his voice calm.
Mom turns around, her eyes warning him not to start a pissing contest with an international publishing magnate. But Daniel's standing straight now, hands behind his back. He can take this guy.
“Less than you can, I'm afraid. We don't have a tremendous amount of money to pour into a new publication.”
“So.” Daniel walks out from behind the desk, slowly approaching Dunne. “You're telling me that you want to offer one of our brightest editors at our flagship publication the equivalent of a promotion at less pay? You're going to ask her to uproot her entire life on the off chance that your new magazine makes it big?”
Dunne steps back, but Daniel continues to pace in front of him like a tiger before its prey.
“You, of all people, should know that starting a magazine now is a ridiculous risk. And competing with Meade by taking away one of its best writers is an even bigger one.”
Daniel stops in front of Dunne and looks him straight in the eye, saving the best for last.
“We can ruin you, Mr. Dunne. We do have the money to pour into our publications, and the only reason we haven't tried to kick you out of the business is because we look good when you do badly.”
From the corner of his eye, Daniel sees his mother's narrowed brows. He can tell she's shocked and angry, and he doesn't care at all.
“Well, I'm glad we had this chat,” Dunne says. His tone remains clipped, so Daniel doesn't get the satisfaction of seeing him angry. “Claire, always good to see you.”
“You as well,” Mom says weakly, standing up to shake Dunne's hand and walk him out. The second she walks back in, she lays into Daniel fiercely.
“What has gotten into you?” she starts. “Are you that upset about Tyler that you're taking it out on any unsuspecting stranger that comes along?”
“This has nothing to do with Tyler,” he snaps back.
“Then what is it?”
“How are you not upset?” The rest of the anger that he didn't get to take out on Dunne comes rearing up. “How can you not care that Betty got a job offer in London and didn't say anything?”
“Well, she did just find out, Daniel," she says drily. "You could give her a few minutes.”
“It's not just the offer,” he says, debating what to say next. He wants to trust his mother again. She'd understand.
“Then what is it?”
Mom takes his hand and leads him to the couch. Betty was right – he really is five years old.
“It just feels like – ever since Molly died, it feels like we can't talk to each other any more.”
They're facing each other, knees touching, his hand still in hers. Daniel is sorely tempted to lay his head on her lap. “When she got angry about my horning in on her interview with Diego and Victoria, she posted an angry rant on her blog. When she was dating that Zach guy, she tried to sneak it past me.”
“You are her boss.”
“But she never treated me like it before.” Now that his anger has subsided a little, he can start to think. “She used to yell at me if she was mad, and tell me about her dating life, and go on and on about her family and the cute kittens on her screensaver and what she had for breakfast. And as annoying as it could be sometimes, I was glad to know that we could talk to each other, even about stupid stuff. Now it's almost like I don't know her at all.”
“Do you still want to?”
What kind of a question is that? “What do you mean, do I want to?”
“I mean that you've both changed quite a bit since those days you're so fond of remembering.”
“It wasn't that long ago.”
“It's not just about the time, Daniel,” Mom says gently. “It's about what's happened during that time. You nearly lost yourself grieving for your wife. You found out you had another brother whose father you hate and who's dating someone you thought was yours. And Betty -”
“What about Betty?”
The question comes out harshly; the anger is still there. What has she been going through that could possibly compare?
“Daniel, you have done your best over the last four years to secure Betty's place at Mode. But at some point, people start wanting to do things for themselves. Perhaps Betty didn't say anything because she's not sure what she wants to do. But maybe it's because she wants to do this herself, without you interfering.”
Mom can't possibly know about the Henry situation, but it makes her words that much more painful.
“I'm only looking out for her!”
“The same way you looked out for her by punching Matt Hartley?”
Daniel puts his head in his hands. Will he ever be able to live that down?
“Darling, all I'm trying to say is that things can't go back to the way they were. You need to decide whether you can accept that or not.”
Mom gets up and walks back to her desk. He stays put.
“I'm not apologizing to Dunne.”
“You shouldn't,” she says, sitting in her executive chair again. “Right now, anything you say will only make this look worse, and I'd rather he see it as a one-time misunderstanding.”
Daniel nods, then gets up and walks out, paperwork forgotten.
The rest of his day continues to suck. Betty seems to have her head stuck firmly up her butt about Henry, so when he gets a call from the law firm looking to hire him, he tells them that Henry was always looking to take extra personal time. It's a bald lie, but Daniel doesn't care. He's still angry with Betty for not telling him about her job offer, but he's angrier that she still thinks she wants a chance with Henry. If she stays in New York for anyone, it should be for her family, or Mode – or him. Their friendship has fallen apart over the last few months, and it's not fair that Henry should get to see her while he can't.
Betty yells at him about it the next day, which shouldn't surprise him. She doesn't know that he knows about Dunne's offer, and he's not going to say anything unless she brings it up.
“Daniel! You cost him his job!”
“I'm your friend!” he yells back. “Don't I have the right to protect you when I see you making such a big mistake?”
“No!” she screams. “You don't! And who said it was a mistake?”
Is she serious? Would she honestly give up a managing editor position – her life's dream – to fall into that empty fairy tale again?
“You are moving backwards,” he says firmly. “You have so much ahead of you!”
“Oh, my god,” she says. “Talk about moving backwards. What are you doing with Trista? Aren't you past that?”
“That is so completely different!”
And it is. Trista has no impact on his professional life or goals. They're as casual as casual gets, maybe even more so because they haven't slept together. But Betty doesn't know that, and it's really none of her business.
“You know what?” she says. “Let's just make a deal. I will stay out of your personal life – and you stay out of mine!”
What a joke, he thinks; he hasn't had a place in her life for a long time now.
He asks Trista to go with him to a function that night, partly to spite Betty. So what if Trista's not the brightest bulb in the box? He's not exactly a rocket scientist. Besides, given all the stress in his life right now, he deserves a little fun.
At 6:30 – half an hour late, – Trista walks into his office, her loose hair and long legs framing the papers he's reviewing. She leans against the desk to re-apply some lipstick; she is a Revlon model, after all.
“You know, my face isn't actually perfect,” she says, like it's a revelation. “But it works on me.”
That's one of the things he likes about Trista: she says what's on her mind. Approaching her from behind the desk, he puts down his papers and says, “Do you know, if I hadn't spilled my drink on you at the Revlon party, we wouldn't have met?”
He's not sure why he's asking the question. This is casual. Why does it matter how they met?
“Yeah, I know” she says, closing her compact and turning to face him. “It was a real blessing in the skies.”
She smiles, and Daniel nods, grinning a bit before confusion hits him. “Wait – blessing in the skies. Does that sound weird?”
“No, no, that's right. Blessing in the skies. The party was outside.”
It's a good pun, he thinks. Trista's not stupid; she just puts on a really good straight face when she's making a joke.
“I wonder what you would say if we met inside,” she continues. “ 'Cause, you know, there's no sky.”
And now she's taking it too far. But he chuckles appropriately before picking up his coat.
“Irregardless, Trista, we should probably get going.” Confusion hits again. “Did I just say 'irregardless'? Is that even a word?”
“I don't know,” she says quickly, like she doesn't care. “Do you like my earrings?”
He nods quickly and says “Yeah” before walking out, Trista trailing behind him.
She begs off a couple of hours later, claiming an early photo shoot.
“So I'll see you Saturday,” he says.
“Oh, right. That wedding.”
She sounds pretty blah about it.
“You don't have to come. We can do something else.”
“No, no, you should go.”
This is not going well. Has he done something wrong?
“Do you want me to call you?”
“Nah,” she says easily. “Not that it hasn't been fun hanging out with you, but I don't really feel like dating right now.”
Dating? Where did she get that from?
“Okay,” he says. “Can I take you home?”
“Could you call me a cab? I'm not going home yet.”
The request stings, but Daniel recovers quickly. “Sure.”
They walk out together, and he hails a cab, handing Trista a fifty. “In case you need it. Since I don't know where you're going.”
“Thanks,” she says, smiling and kissing his cheek. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
As her cab pulls away, Daniel starts walking. He passes a strip club which is obviously hosting a bachelor party, which makes him think about Hilda's wedding again. He has to call Betty and tell her he's not bringing a date. Fantastic.
He sits down on the first available front stoop and pulls out his phone, thumb hovering over the contact list. For the first time in over a year, he hits the number for 'Suarez Home.' He really doesn't want to talk to Betty right now, but it's only courtesy to let her family know that there's an extra seat available.
“Hello?”
Thank god it's Justin.
“Hey, Justin, it's Daniel.”
“Aunt Betty's not here.”
“I know.” He doesn't really, but he's not surprised. “I actually called to talk to your mom.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I wanted to let her know that my date canceled.”
“Sorry.”
“It's not a big deal. I just wanted you guys to know that I won't be bringing a plus-one.”
“There's still plenty of time between now and Saturday.”
Daniel chuckles at the teasing tone in Justin's voice. “I know. But I'm sure you could use the extra seat, and there's no one I really want to bring.”
“What about your mom?”
Daniel can hear the hero-worship through the phone, which makes him remember that “Free Claire” T-shirt Justin made a few years ago and the night he and Betty tried to win the magazine back. If only his life was still that simple.
“She's crazy busy with work. I don't think she'd be able to make it.”
He's definitely not telling Justin that his mother is preoccupied with looking for his crazy alcoholic half-brother.
“That's too bad.”
“Yeah.”
After a few seconds of awkward silence, Justin speaks up.
“OK, then. I'll let Mom know. See you Saturday.”
“See you Saturday.”