"Tina. Sorry it took me so long. A client called and I didn’t want to take the call in here." He looked up at Bette and smiled widely. "Bette, how are you? It was so wonderful of you to invite us to your dinner. Thank you so much."

Bette nodded and returned the smile. "It was nothing. Why don’t you make yourself comfortable and walk around a bit. I’m sure there are several people who would love to speak with you."

Eric excused himself and followed Bette’s advice, speaking with a few people before dinner was served. Bette turned around when she felt a hand touch her arm lightly.

"Marc, hi. How are you?" Bette smiled and turned her attention to the tall man in front of her.

"I’m wonderful. And you?"

"The same, actually. Marc Stafford, this is Tina Kennard, Tina, this is Marc."

"Tina, I love you dress. Donna Karan?"

"Tom Ford."

"Really? Wow. He outdid himself."

Tina smiled slightly politely. She touched Bette’s arm and stood on her tiptoes to ask where the restroom was. The feel of Tina’s breath on Bette’s ear sent shivers down her spine. It took all her control not to shudder noticeably.

"Down the hall on the left."

Tina excused herself and made her way to the restroom.

Both Marc and Bette watched Tina walk down the corridor. Marc was the first to speak.

"Nice catch, Miss Porter. Where’d you find her?"

Bette looked at him incredulously. "She is not my girlfriend. She’s not even *****. You, sir, have been gone from LA for far too long. You need to readjust your gaydar."

"Do I?"

Bette stared at him and chuckled quietly. "Marc I swear, you’re absolutely insufferable sometimes."

Marc and Bette continued their friendly banter until she was pulled away by a potential donor. When Tina returned from the bathroom, she saw that Bette was engaged in other conversation and decided to leave her alone until dinner. She soon became enthralled with the art meticulously placed on the wall. One piece in particular caught her eye, and she couldn’t stop staring at it.

"Are you coming to dinner?"

The familiar voice had Tina turning slightly. A confused cloud hung over her eyes as she hadn’t yet adjusted her thought process from that of studying the piece in front of her to conversing with other people.