Somewhere down the road, the line had disappeared. The line that clearly separated the assistant from the boss—friend to friend. Sure, it erased slowly, and the only people who realized it began slowly disintegrating were the ones who looked from the outside.
It started out innocently enough- a pizza here and there, DVD rentals, and takeout Chinese. No signs of affection– she walked behind him, balancing folders and coffee in her hand while he talked into the cell phone glued to his ear. He brought her a birthday present – something personal. She made sure he ate everyday.
There was always the occasional blonde or brunette from the runway, but their faces began to blur and meld together after a while. But no one could forget Betty. The impossibly optimistic, charming Betty, who threw a party when her metallic braces came off – with cake and all. He knew because he was there, grabbing the biggest piece of all.
Always diligent in her work, the bylines increased with each issue. Then one day, it happened.
She handed him his onion bagel, nervously biting down her lip and shuffling around the papers on his desk. His eyes had twinkled with amusement before she casually let it drop in between his messages.
"Your father offered me job," she breathed out, "At Inquire"
She paused a second to see his reaction.
"I know…it caught me off guard too. But he called me into his office on Friday and told me that the editor…Anna Hammond…had read some of my work. He said that he always knew I wanted a job like that. But I'll totally understand if you didn't….Daniel?"
He had seen it coming, for a very long time now. He shouldn't have felt that caught of guard…but this was Betty. He never knew what he felt with Betty.
"After all, you didn't grow up wanting to be my assistant" The words he had said ages ago echoed in his brain.
The fake smile crept onto his face.
"Congratulations!"
Perhaps she could tell his enthusiasm was fake. After all, who could read him better?
"Daniel, I-" she started to say. The words died in her mouth as he fixed her a small, sad smile.
"Betty…I knew this day would come eventually. You're meant for bigger things than confirming my lunch with Fabia," he chucked.
She smiled with a hint of sadness in her eyes...and something more.
"I'll miss you."
"I know. But Inquire is just one floor down. We're bound to run into each other all the time," he said, more to convince himself than her.
"Of course," she smiled.
She cleaned out her desk the next week. The pink bunny with the graduation cap, along with the dozens of picture frames that had accumulated over two years and the lame 'World's Best Notary/Secretary' trophy he had given her – she said it added humor to the desk.
True to her word, they ran into each other. Five minutes on a good day. And she would talk a mile a minute about the new job, Justin's latest drama role or anything. And he would listen, living for the good days.
Nicole was his new assistant. Sharp-witted and stunning with long flowing chocolate locks, she had both style and intelligence.
This was a second Sofia.
But for him the enormous broaches and outrageous sweaters were what he looked forward to in the morning. The frizzy hair that stuck out in odd ends haunted him in his dreams and clawed painfully into the reality he was now living. A world without Broadway musical references and childish excitement over everything. A world without Betty.
The snow fell heavily that week, only three days away from Christmas. Professionally decorated Christmas tress looked down hostilely as he walked down the hallways. Memories of a glitter ornament and handmade stockings came back.
He found her gift at Weston's, an antique shop a corner from his apartment. What made him go in there in the first place was still a mystery.
The necklace gleamed up at him. It was simple, and probably the cheapest piece of jewelry he had ever bought. But he knew it would mean the world the Betty. Betty who saw through appearances and other people's perceptions and found the beauty in things – the beauty in people.
He didn't fully comprehend what he was doing when he got into the car and ordered the driver to go as fast as he can to Queens. Daniel didn't fool himself — he wasn't a romantic by a long shot. But that didn't matter now. Appearances didn't matter. What everyone saw didn't matter.
Because she was Betty and he was Daniel. She would be cheerful when he didn't want to face the world. She would be hopeful no matter what life threw at her and he would be there to protect her. Because that was the way it was supposed to be.
And with bravery he didn't know he possessed, he walked to her door and knocked.
Maybe the happy endings were cheesy and predictable. And the picket fence and soccer games were boring to everyone.
But to him, it meant the world.
And Betty had given him the chance to have that.