”I’ve met a girl” Said Bette and and took a sip from her Budweiser can.

She and Marcus Allenwood were reposing in the the Hills, watching awakening Los Angeles, the thing they have always been doing, when either of them needed to pour out one’s heart.

They came there after rumbling with a client, who hasn’t been much cooperative in their supposed to be partnership. Dominic was furious, so he ordered Bette and her people to go to his condo in Downtown and make him pay the money by force. The deed was done, Dominic was happy again, Shane and Helena went for their personal affairs. It was four in the morning, when Bette and Marcus came to the Hills, the place not so far from the famous Hollywood sign.

”And why it doesn’t surprise me” Marcus smirked and sipped his own beer.

Bette released a small chuckle and brought her legs up to the knee fold position. Yes, she had a reputation among her friends and women. And she was willing to change it.

”It’s different this time, Mac” She took a breath and exhaled in a leisurely way. ”I just feel it’s different” She whispered to herself, but knew that Marcus had heard her.

Marcus eyed the brunette curiously, then returned his gaze on the city and nodded understandingly. ”Tell me about her” He said in calm tone.

Bette smiled warmly, shaking her head a little. ”She is beautiful…” She began musingly. ”Magnificent even… So bright and pure, so…” She broke off, at loss of words. ”Just like an angel” Bette finished and sighed.

”Blonde?”

”Yes” Bette answered and grinned at Marcus triumphantly.

Marcus laughed. ”Got it” He said. ”Shit, what a sucker you are for pretty blondes, I can’t believe it”

”Truth” Bette laughed too. ”I mean, who’s not?” She asked rhetorically.

”I am”

”The only one on the planet…” The brunette mumbled. ”By the way, how’s Melissa?” She finished her beer, crumpled the can and throwed it into the distance.

”She is fine, still working on that odd sculpture, making me more surer than ever that I don’t understand this art shit”

”Me either, dude” Bette agreed. ”Father said that my Mom loved to paint, had passion for art. And he couldn’t comprehend any of her artworks or when they went to art galleries… He discribed, how lost he was, when she brought him there. They were so different, but he adored her regardless” She concluded in melancholy.