“Just about everything and everyone I love lives in that city,” she said softly.  “Phillip, too, even if I’ll never admit it.”

“And you and your family.”

She turned away from the window, and her eyes bore into Bette.

“Why are you throwing your life away?” she asked sharply.

Bette washed down the last bit of the toast she’d been biting into with a swig of champagne.  She blew out a breath.  “Brooke, I …”

“I saw pictures among Phillips papers, Bette.  Of you and a red-head, locked in a passionate kiss and embrace in the bedroom of a flat in Chelsea.  And others of the two of you kissing by the entrance of a building, your hands all over her.”

“What are you doing?!”

Her hands continued to shake as she tried to resume consuming the caviar she’d spooned onto her plate.  After trying to swallow, and struggling, she gave up momentarily on eating, and sat back, her face and manner disturbed and agitated.

“Let me explain…” Bette tried again.  So Phillip was one of those who got copies of the photos of her and Tina?

“I know it’s not my business.  But, as I said, an indelicate matter.  The photos caught me by surprise,” Brooke added.  “I thought you and Tina were so in love.  Just the perfect family.  Now this!”

Bette licked her lips, her mind racing.  So the pretend affair was still working as a ruse.  That’s a relief!  But Brooke knowing about it?  Who else could be involved?  I thought I’d met everyone in that inner circle already?  So what was Philip’s role?

She decided to take a shot in the dark.

“Brooke, let me just say that my life is extremely complicated right now, and I am doing the best I can,” she started.  “But if you’ll be patient, and let me talk to you about something, first, I promise you’ll see that I am fully aware of what I am doing.  The situation with the redhead included.”

Brooke pursed her lips and continued to observe Bette closely.   She looks tired.  And worried.  But hyper-alert.  What is going on with her?

“Well, Bette.  Let me just take a shot here and say that, like Phillip, I think you’re not serious about that woman.  You can’t be.  I’ve seen you and Tina together.  You’ve invited me into your wonderful, beautiful home, and I’ve passed several delightful afternoons and evening there.  I felt how much love was in there, and between the two of you.  On the other hand, I know you’re not stupid.  You wouldn’t sacrifice all of what you’ve built together for a trifle.  And now you look out of sorts.  Worried.  Like someone running just ahead of a pack of wolves.”