“Umm… yeah, honey, I didn’t know whether you wanted to just head straight back to New York,” Jenna improvised quickly for Eve’s benefit, and then flashed her dark-haired friend a quick, apologetic smile.  “I’m sorry, Eve.  I didn’t plan to blow you off, but …”

Eve nodded her head slightly, and gave Jenna a quick peck on her cheek, “That’s alright Jen.  I understand … with a hot new girlfriend — of course you’ll want to spend all your time with her.  And with someone like Bette, who can blame you?”

Jenna joined nervously in Eve’s light laughter, as they both eyed a flushed Bette.

Eve turned around when she heard her name called, and shouted back, “Yes, I’m still watching the game!  I’ve bet a thousand on the Germans, right?”

She turned to look at both Bette and Jenna, shrugged her shoulders, and then gave Bette a quick buss on the cheek, “Alright, Bette.  I’ll see you on Wednesday night, then?”

Bette forced a dazzling smile out, and said cheerily, “Can’t wait!”

xxxxxxxxxxx

Diane  walked up to the cocktail table Bette and Jenna were leaning on, and gave Bette a quick kiss on the cheek in greeting.  She whispered, “Sorry I took so long getting here.  Jules was asking me to pick up a few things for her here in London.”

Bette nodded at her absentmindedly.  Diane frowned a little, and asked, “Can you try harder to pretend like you’re enjoying yourself?”

Bette heaved a deep sigh, looking at the bottom of the glass that she’d just drained.  After half a minute, she extended a hand towards Jenna, who was chatting with one of the new heads of one of London’s leading art galleries, which had just acquired a string of galleries in London and Paris.  Jenna took Bette’s hand absentmindedly, interlacing her fingers with Bette’s.  After a minute, she looked quickly away from the man, who’d been explaining the schedule of exhibits the gallery was planning to mount over the next twelve months, “to better position some of the artists we want as candidates to feature for the next Venice Biennale.”

Jenna gave Bette a quick kiss, before turning her attention back to the man, who’d flashed her an understanding smile.

Bette turned to Diane, and whispered, “Do you think I’ve made a mistake?”