They stopped behind her. Her dark suit, the purple tie, her hair in the normalcy of straightness yet exotic by virtue of its cut -all of it, gave Bette Porter an unexplainable dominance over and union with, what could only be described as masculinity. Her mannerisms remained reticent but her expression was open, feminine, utterly at ease. It confused Tinas senses as much as the gallerys artwork did.

But she was unbelievably beautiful; strength and self-assurance leached beyond the confines of her suit and seized any opinions of incompetence from the onlooker.

Tina, despite the fact that she was a fairly successfulno, a very successful developer, fell instantly back into that space where she had slowly crawled out of earlier that evening.

Discomfort came by like a thief and she used Eric as a buffer by standing slightly behind his right arm.

Eric, his voice gentle and teasing, which was undoubtedly one of the many ways he greeted those he knew and respected, said, Excuse me, Bette.

Porter turned with a smile that at first seemed forced. She had been talking to perhaps the umpteenth guest, about a topic that had probably been touched on more than thrice, and was now only beginning a conversation with her gallerys artist. But seeing that it was Eric, her cheeks widened and her lips rushed up in an effigy of cheer; there was suddenly real interest in her eyes.

A short glance at Tina prompted Erics introduction.

This is my girlfriend, Tina Kennard. She heads up Development up at Alphaville. Tina, Bette Porter.

Automatically, as with all her clients, Tina extended a hand and found that Bette Porters palms were convivially warm; the hand-shake had a different nuance -she couldnt pinpoint what -and her discomfited senses glued a shy smile on her face.

Nice to meet you, Bette said.

Hey, Tina replied. Nice to meet you.

Eric had asked about Catherine Opie and told Bette of his intentions for one of her prints.

Bette, in a soft voice, quite different from the image she projected, simply told him, Well, why don’t you ask yourself? She’s right over there. Her gesture was reserved but when she turned back to Tina, her smile frisked her for uncertainty and left her inexplicably breathless.

~*~*~*~

When the night began, she had no interest in asking anyone about anything other than art work. Through the hours, playing hostess was taking its toll and her smile felt more like a brick load than it did a gift. The champagne contributed to lengthening her patience and to making her smile a permanent fixture in the gallerys workings. As dinner approached and the prospect of sharing a table with the citys best talents, whether in critique or creation, grew ever nearer, she felt slightly heady.

Nothing could have prepared her for the eventual conversation with Tina Kennard. Eric, his attention spanning as far as his arm could go, had run off, leaving Bette unceremoniously in front of a very uncomfortable, very beautiful lady.

Im sorry; I didnt quite catch your name, Bette began.

Not that Bette ever forgot names but somehow, if the names owner spoke it, this served to affirm her identity in a way that made them more than mere acquaintances. It was, to Bette, a form of seizing power.

Kennard. Tina Kennard. And you must be Bette Porter?

The inquiry made Bette smile, a smile that was reconfigured to sincerity, mirth, and flirtatious splendor.

Yes. The infamous Bette Porter. Would you like a drink?

Bette didnt wait for an answer and promptly stopped a waiter, who offered to get Tina anything she wished. Tina gently –gently, asked for a suggestion. She nodded at the mans first offer and her smile, always present and innocuously pure, served to inspire the waiter to move more readily to her wishes.

Bette took note that the man had easily given her the most expensive refreshment on the list.

Kennard was far from being nave but she was also infinitely farther from being boisterous, from being chillingly apathetic. Not an effort was made to impress either Bette or the staff and that unforced, natural grace tickled Bettes interest.

She had met too many here who had tried to flatter her to concurrence.

~*~*~*~

TBC