“So, in return for this unfair competition for the favor of the gallant Monsieur, how about giving poor ol’ me some free advice on this Jodie Lerner piece that Smith Walden showed me?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye, referring to a new piece of sculpture that one of the leading galleries in the country proffered to him earlier that day.

George knew Bette had passed on that piece, but every other leading art gallery in the West Coast had jumped at the chance to obtain it for their clients.  He wondered why Bette passed on it, because he, along with many other collectors thought she had the sharpest eye in the gallery business.  In fact a lot of the collectors in the gallery tonight owed a lot to Bette, as she had helped to select appropriate pieces for each of their personal collections, helping them build distinctive collections reflective of their own personal tastes.  Including young Eric, who he noticed was approaching the circle from behind Bette.

A shadow passed over Bette’s eyes at the mention of the Jodie Lerner piece, as she looked at George. She dropped her hands to clutch her waist, as if to support it, and smiled, then hung her head.  It was a trembling smile, and quick tears were forming in her eyes. The group around her fell silent.

George bit his lip, and felt like kicking himself.  ”Of course!” he thought. Bette was a woman of integrity, and there would have had to have been a deeply personal reason for her not to have gone for that piece.  She had a roster of willing clients who would have purchased it from her, and she would have gotten it for them even at personal cost, given her strong sense of loyalty to her clients.  So it had to have been at too high a personal cost, more than she could withstand.

The young socialite beside Bette was trying to hold on to Bette’s slim, elegant hand, unwilling to break contact. But Bette had already let her go, as she unconsciously gripped her forehead with the hand, lightly rubbing her eyebrows, and running her other hand through her soft curls,  in an effort to regain her composure. Meanwhile, George had distracted the group by loudly telling them a story about his own recent misadventure in France, subtly drawing the thinning crowd away from Bette, as he led them towards the main hall of the gallery.