Tina pauses in the doorway, plants one hand on her hip, and tilts her head. “Bye, B,” she says, imitating Michelle’s voice from earlier that evening. She then turns toward her jewelry box. “Thirsty Bitch.”

Bette smirks as she untucks her shirt from her pants. “I thought we agreed that we weren’t going to let her get to you, T.”

Tina removes one earring and drops it into the jewelry box before reaching for the other. “Well, it’s a little easier said than done when I truly have a deep dislike for this woman, Bette.” She glances at her through the mirror. “She still wants you.”

Bette rolls her eyes. “Baby, do you really think I give a shit what she wants?”

Tina turns around to face her. “No, but she still pisses me the fuck off.”

Bette sighs softly, watching Tina close her jewelry box and head toward the closet.

Halfway there, Tina stops and turns back around. “And you know what? Don’t be surprised if one day she and I lock ourselves in a room and come to an understanding, because at some point, I’m gonna get tired of her staring at me like that.”

Bette’s brows draw together. “Lock yourselves in a room and talk?”

Tina chuckles, lifting her eyebrows. “You know damn well I don’t mean talk to the bitch, baby.”

Bette’s mouth twitches.

Tina holds up her fist. “Fisticuffs. That’s the way we would handle it down South. Fuck all this Hollywood glaring-across-the-room shit.”

Bette presses her lips together, fighting a smile. “Uh-huh.” She nods thoughtfully. “And is fisticuffs the official language one uses when threatening this particular action?”

Tina watches Bette unbutton her shirt and slip it off her shoulders. “It’s not funny.”

Bette laughs, tossing the shirt onto the chair beside her jacket. “I’m just trying to get an understanding of how your Southern roots work, baby.”

“Yeah, well, now you know.” Tina gestures emphatically. “That’s how we roll.”

Bette smirks as she sits on the edge of the bed. “Duly noted.”

Tina smirks, shifting her weight onto one hip. “It’s not funny, Bette….
Bette smiles and shrugs. “I’m not laughing…”

“You’re smirking, same difference…” Tina says.

Bette reaches out, takes Tina’s hand, and gently pulls her closer until she’s standing between her parted legs. “Get your sexy ass over here,” Bette says softly, her voice dropping to a husky murmur. “I actually have other ideas for the rest of your night.”