“Well, I can assure you that I’m absolutely interested in you. Not only in the talking, Tina.”

Tina looked away. Bette was doing that again. Being herself and charming Tina with that. How can she be so comfortable with herself and what does it take to be so confident and yet not selfish? It took Tina two days to make up the words that would most definitely help her express her thoughts and questions concerning this delicate issue, she was making huge pauses after every word she pronounced just not to fall off the chair and come in terms with the fact that they’d actually come out of her mouth, while it took Bette less than a second to say that she is “absolutely interested”.

“Tina, are you still here? Bette interrupted the thoughts that flooded Tina’s head.

“I’m sorry.” One, two, three, four. “Your directness—”

“I’m just being honest, that’s it. I’m not lying to you and to myself.”

“Yeah.”

“Listen,” Bette stood up, “working is out of question for me now so that you came. Maybe we’ll just have a couple of cocktails?”

“I don’t think it’s a very good idea. I have to get up early and I’m just—”

“Okay, can I see you home, then?”

Tina closed her eyes just for a second. Bette mentioned seeing her home and these words awoke a certain memory of a certain kiss they shared on the porch.

“Will that I be okay?”

“Yeah, I suppose.” Tina mumbled and wondered if this supposition could be right.

Granted that Tina’s place wasn’t far away from the gallery, Tina didn’t feel all that much intimidated by the awkward silences that occurred once or twice as they wandered through the streets of LA. She was constantly trying to guess what was on Bette’s mind and whether her intentioned reflected her “absolute interest”.

Bette did most of the talking and Tina was ready to listen to it for another week or two without having to interrupt her, but just when she thought that, they reached her apartment and stopped in front of it, facing each other and looking each other in the eye.

“Well, that’s it.”

“Don’t you want to invite me for a cup of solid coffee?” Bette asked, her face beaming like that of an Olympic champion.