Chapter 1

“Where had things gone wrong? How could Jodie have left me without even saying goodbye? Why was Tina working so hard to try to get us back together?” Bette threw all of those questions at her reflection in the mirror as she prepared for another day. After applying her morning moisturizer, she started to towel dry her hair when her the cell phone rang. “Good morning, Al…”

“Morning Principle Porter – whatcha doing?” Alice asked as she sat in traffic on her way to a vlog taping in Hollywood. She had to be up early in the morning to beat most of the traffic all of this week, as she and Max were working hard to pull together a multi-episode interview with out screenwriter, Dee Walsh. Alice had scored the interview as part of her retribution package from Jenny. After Les Girls hit the newsstands, the group had all but ousted Jenny for her portrayal of them all. Fortunately, they were also all open to having Jenny help them out with their careers and networking as she transformed the book into a screenplay.

“Getting ready for a bullshit day cleaning up from Jodie’s departure. Sometimes I wish that the world of academia could just mind their own fucking business.” Bette was walking through the kitchen, going straight to the tea kettle to add the hot water to her cup. “You know she didn’t sign a thing before she left? If things weren’t so fucked up between us, I would not think twice about throwing the CU lawyers at her!”

“Yea, well… have you heard from her? Did Tom leave the other night as well? Maybe you can get something out of him.” Alice was trying to be the supportive friend, even though she knew this would be a good break for Bette in the long run.

“I doubt it, he’s like a fucking safe when it comes to her. I had him cornered yesterday in her studio. I tried to find out where he was sending her things, sending Phyllis in to find out where to forward her mail, and even going to HR for a forwarding address. She hasn’t changed a fucking thing, not even her cell number, so I’m filling up her text-message inbox. I’ve tried e-mailing, I’ve called her friends, no one is telling me a fucking thing. I feel like I’ve done something horrible to her, when in reality I’ve lost track of what I’m fighting for.” Bette was now back in her bedroom, picking out an outfit for the day. She had already decided on the pants, and wanted to wear her new pumps, so was looking for a top to match. “It’s only been 4 days, but I feel like I’ve been looking for her longer than we were together! Al, do you think I should just take the hint?”