Joe slid a drink in front of Bette.

“What’s in this?” Bette asked, looking up at Joe and dipping the straw in and out of the glass of the familiar looking concoction.

Summoned by another patron, Joe walked off.

Alice slid her hand up and down the attractive woman’s back comfortingly. “It’s just orange juice and grenadine…and José.”

“Oh, a Tequila Sunrise,” Bette said, wriggling.

“Yeah, but you’re in Vegas, Babycakes, so it’s a Desert Sunrise here at the Vegas Oasis,” Alice grinned. “Just something to cool you off. Cuz you look hot, Babycakes.” Alice stared at Bette’s cleavage.

Bette took a sip of the drink.

“You like?” Alice asked.

“Yes. It’s very good,” Bette answered agreeably and swallowing.

“Hear that? You done good, Joe,” Alice screamed down the length of the bar, where he was setting a napkin in front of another customer.

Joe looked up and nodded to his boss with a slight bow.

“Whoa, Baby!” Alice whistled, staring in Joe’s direction.

Bette looked down the bar and espied a beautiful and slender, but shapely, brunette. She grinned to herself.

“See something you like, Ms. Pieszecki?” Bette asked, turning to watch Alice stare at the woman in front of Joe.

“Holy shit, yes! That is one hot lookin’ babe,” Alice said, eyes agog.

Joe made his way back down the bar.

“Ms. Pieszecki, the beautiful lady at the end of the bar would like to buy you a drink. She wishes to express that she hopes she’s not intruding.”

“Tell her she’s not intruding, Joe. Do you mind?” Alice asked Bette, hopping eagerly off her stool, but never removing her eyes from the striking, blue-eyed woman.

“Be my guest,” Bette laughed.

As Alice made her way down to the exquisitely dressed woman who was so unashamedly willing to meet her, Bette pushed the drink away from her and sighed, resting against the back of her seat.

“Is your drink alright?” a sweet voice asked.

Taken aback, Bette turned around and smiled hugely upon seeing the fair-haired figure next to her.

“Mind if I have a seat?” the blonde asked, placing her hand on the back of the stool Alice had just vacated.

“By all means,” Bette said invitingly, helping the woman into her seat.

Bette’s new companion reached for her drink and partook.

“Not enough tequila,” she criticized. “Joe!”

Bette watched her carefully.

Joe ran back down the bar.

“Yes Ma’am?”

“Fix this!” she said, shoving the drink away from her.

Grinning, Bette introduced herself, extending her hand. “Hi, I’m Bette Porter. I gather you’re someone important around here?”

“Hi, Bette Porter. It’s very nice to meet you. I’m Tina Kennard, proprietor of the Vegas Oasis.”

“Oh? And Alice is…?” Bette stammered awkwardly, “Your partner?”

“She’s my cousin.”

“I see,” Bette said. “Your cousin?”

“Yes,” Tina said, adjusting the back of the ankle strap of her shoe. “Very distant.”

Bette looked down the bar to the cousin and her generous and bold new friend, their faces close to one another.

“Your cousin is in trouble,” Bette said sharply, reaching into her bag. “And so are you.”

She flipped her badge open.