Bette stood up to pick up another report from the printer that the surveillance team monitoring Tina had written.  She looked over at Brom, who was looking at various reports about her, sitting on the couch, with stacks of reports arranged neatly on the low-slung table in front of him.  He was busily tapping notes into one of his tablets.  Beside him was a growing stack of paper that he had separated from the various reports that he’d studied.  They’d divided the work to quickly review the reports, and she was reviewing those concerning Tina and Angelica, while Brom was reviewing reports concerning Bette.

As she stepped away from the printer, Bette decided to stretch, and bent down slowly to touch her toes, then slowly straightened up.  She pulled her arms straight up, fully stretched out, standing on her toes. Next, she loosened her ankles, while rotating her neck slowly in circles, then paused and loosened her shoulders.

She set the report she’d just retrieved down on the table, and, still standing, reviewed the top sheet quickly.  Bette looked over at Brom again, and asked, “Fresh coffee?”

He nodded imperceptibly without looking up from what he’d been reading intently.

She pursed her lips, cocking her head to one side.  She didn’t know if he was still upset with her after the intense argument they’d had concerning her plans to fly to LA, soon after he got to hers and Tina’s duplex.  Or whether this was just how he was when he was working.

Deciding it was the latter case, she padded to the wet bar where she also kept a Nespresso machine and a tea kettle.  She was selecting a capsule for him after choosing a Vivalto lungo for her, preparing to froth the milk, when she heard Brom ask, “Let’s compare notes in …um… half an hour?”

“Sure,” she replied.  “Then we’ll call Mike?”

“Yeah,” Brom said.  After a few minutes, when Bette walked over to give him his coffee, he accepted his cup with a small smile.  She smiled back before turning around and carried hers back to her desk.

He took a sip of the coffee, nodded his head, and looked up again at Bette, who was sipping hers while leaning back on her chair, eyes shut.  He called out to her, “I’m sorry I pushed back so hard on you about flying out to LA.”