Scott looked up as Betty came in. “Scott, you're supposed to be on the air in five minutes! What are you doing here?”
“Oh, just getting a drink.” He put his now-empty coffee cup in the sink. “Betty, I meant what I said about burying the hatchet. I'm sorry I lied about Victor and the memorial. I was out of a job. I really didn't have any other options. I had to go somewhere, and this seemed as good a place as any.”
Betty sighed. “Scott, on one hand, I'm glad you came back. You're a good actor, you've helped us out of more than one jam, and you've kept Hilary sane during this whole mess with Jeff.” She stared right into his brown eyes. “But what you did to me...to the station...it hurt deeply. I trusted you. I truly believed you were someone who knew and loved Victor. I thought you...well, that you really cared about the station, and Victor, and, well, me.”
“I want to start over, Betty. What I did was wrong. I realize that now. Can't you just give me a chance?”
She looked down at her hands on the counter, then back at him. Her eyes were steady. “No, Scott. Not now. Maybe someday.”
He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to grab her and kiss her and hold her and tell her he'd never lie again, never hurt her again, never let a snake like Pruitt get within a hundred miles of her and the station ever again. All he did was say “I need to be on the air.”
Hilary glared at him as he stepped into the studio moments before he was to take his role. He would rather be playing prince to Betty's princess than Hilary's. She didn't say “no,” he thought. Someday, I will prove how much I care about her, even if I have to eat a hundred poison apples or go up against a hundred Pruitts. I will prove to Betty Roberts that I can be every inch the prince charming she's looking for.
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