“She was hot, if you must know…”

“Was she white?”

“No.”

“Was she black?”

“No.”

“Asian?”

Shane sighed, she was getting sick of this little game. Jenny knew damn well what she looked like.

”No.”

“So she was… Pacific Islander?”

“No.”

“Native American?”

“No. She was Latina, OK?” Shane snapped.

Jenny smiled. She made Shane lose her cool.

“OK.”

“Is there a problem with that?” Andrea asked.

“No problem.” Jenny replied. “I just think that the word ‘caliente’ is much hotter than the word hot. Just Spanish in general is so sexy. Aren’t Latin women caliente, Shane?”

Shane licked her lips nervously. Jenny was really laying it on thick.

“Yeah. They are.”

“Yeah. They are.” They stared at each other for a couple more seconds. “How about we work in the writing studio?” Jenny asked, breaking the silence and pulling Andrea off towards the backyard.

Bette was getting nervous. She had wrung her hands raw as she sat outside the door. The doctor had wanted her there for the first half hour, but now they were done with her and she had to wait outside. She was happy, though. Well, one part of her was. She felt horrible for even thinking it, but what if the doctor blamed everything on her? She knew she was a bit of a control freak, but she’s not the only one in the world. She didn’t want to have caused this.

“Is that really selfish? That’s really selfish. Fuck.”

“Talking to yourself, eh? I may need to take you on as a patient, as well.” Dr. Morgan joked, standing in the doorway with Tina.

“Oh! Sorry, I don’t usually, but I was…”

“It’s OK, I was kidding.” He responded witih a smile. “Anyways, Tina, would it be possible for me to bump you up to 5 next week?”

”Sure, why? Or would you rather not say.”

“No, it’s fine. My son has a piano recital.”

“Awww. Tell him I said ‘good luck’.”

“I will. Ms Grontz?” He called out, and a woman stood up and walked over to him with a beaming smile.

”Hello, Dr. Morgan.”

“Hi. Come in.”

“So…” Bette attempted at conversation.

“He didn’t say anything mean about you. He thought you were very nice.”

“Oh. Well, I wasn’t…”

”Don’t fucking tell me you weren’t thinking that, because I know you were. You’re so fucking selfish.”

“I didn’t even say anything.”

“You were thinking it.”

“I was not!”

“You were, too.”

“You know what, Tina? Fine. I was, alright? Now, can we just go get our child and go home now? Or would you rather yell at me for another 5 fucking hours?”

Tina turned and looked out the window.

“My baby.” She muttered.