Tina heard the ding of the elevator and refused to look up. If she did look up, for the hundredth time, and not see Bette Porter, she was going to scream. And Bette Porter was clearly not coming back downstairs. They’d made small talk, it was fun, possibly even flirty, and now she was upstairs doing some kind of paperwork for her important job, probably balancing a laptop while talking on her phone to fabulous friends in some other city, and not giving another thought to the unfortunately underemployed at the front desk. Tina flicked the keyboard of the reservations system and fought the urge to pound the letters with her fist. The job had always been boring, sure, but suddenly she felt pissed at the hierarchy and its obstacles.

God I want to be all over her, Tina thought to herself, and winced. She knew it was this overwhelming feeling that was causing her disgust. To have felt such instinctive want at first sight She felt rejected somehow and knew she hadn’t been. But she didn’t care about being rational. She wanted Bette Porter to walk up and demand, in some bitchy voice, to ***** her from behind while she checked in the oh maybe three more people who would show up for the rest of this pathetic evening and need her help. Speaking of needs, she thought, squeezing her legs together. *****

Why not me? Tina wondered. I’m definitely cute, witty, smart. I can be *****. And I know I could make her come Tina stopped, somewhat shocked at herself. “Jesus, Tina, get a grip.”

She heard the ding again and muttered under her breath. “You’re pathetic,” she said to herself, swiveling her chair back towards the entryway and resolving herself to once more put this stupid ***** out of her head. You’re here, Tina, working at your crappy job. Not ***** dream woman in the office behind you.

“Ahem.”

Tina looked up as a voice pretended to clear her throat. Not a voice. The voice.

“Hi,” Bette said, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

Tina was so thrown she responded at once. “Oh my god,” she said. “It’s you.”

Bette laughed aloud again, something Tina seemed to make her do. “Well yes it is,” she purred. “And look, it’s you too.”

Tina laughed, trying to compose herself. “Yep, it’s still me I’m afraid.”

Bette was bemused and her expression showed it. “I was afraid you’d be gone actually. What time do you get off?”

Tina did an internal double take. “Um, not until 1. But there’s staff here all night. Is there something in particular?”

Bette’s brow furrowed slightly and she looked down for a second before meeting Tina’s eyes again. “I’m a notorious insomniac. I thought maybe if you were free, you could show me where to get a drink, or even a coffee” Bette trailed off.

Tina didn’t dare think this was what it seemed like. She barely dared hope. But the kicker was that the ***** ***** job was in the way! She tried to act casual. “Oh, I’m sorry, Bette, I won’t be off till late. I wish I could show you around though. It’d be fun.”

Bette watched her. “Yeah?” she asked, leaning forward onto the desk.

Tina gulped. She caught herself looking at Bette’s mouth as a way to avoid looking into those dark brown eyes. “Definitely,” she said, pretending not to notice Bette closing the distance between them.

Bette nodded at Tina, in that silent way she’d done before, observing without speaking. Finally, she stood to her full height, gazing magisterially at Tina below her. “Ok then, what are you doing at 1 a.m.?”