Daddy wasn’t pleased with the news. He always envisioned me as a lawyer, a heart surgeon, and even a US Senator but definitely not as a small art gallery owner. He had been already disappointed with his other daughter, a famous singer, who had a drinking problem that damaged her career and now was the owner of a small café in West Hollywood. Neither of us lived up to daddy’s expectations but that was the least of my worries.

I still remember his disapproval that turned into an open rejection at first and later into a pretend ignorance when I finally admitted to him that I was a lesbian. After he realized it wasn’t just a phase for me, daddy decided to pretend that that issue didn’t exist and all my girlfriends were simply my roommates. Not that there were many girlfriends. Just a few and none were very steady. I enjoyed dating because I wasn’t ready for a commitment and felt that I was too young to settle down.

So here I was, in my early thirties, single and with my own business that was actually doing quite well, thank you very much. I made a few connections when I was a curator and found a few investors that were willing to take a chance on me and my small obscure gallery when I put on my first art show. The show was a great success and since then I didn’t have a problem of getting artists who wanted to showcase their paintings at my gallery.

The latest art show was one of the biggest, mainly because of the artist who was having her first solo showing in the United States. The artist was none other than a French sensation, Solange Le Germain. She made quite a name for herself in Europe and everyone in the Los Angeles artistic and entertainment circles wanted to be invited to the opening night.  

I knew it was going to be an amazing and successful event after almost half of Solange’s paintings were sold within the first hour. I found Solange by the open bar talking to the few of the visitors and handed her a fresh glass of champagne.

“Excuse me,” she smiled at her companions and turned around to face me. When I told her about the progress of the evening, Solange gave me one of those amused half-smiles that make French women so mysterious and extremely attractive. She leaned closer and whispered into my ear, “Bette, I knew we’d make a great team from the moment I read your business proposal for my solo art show in LA. Perhaps, we should have a more private celebration later tonight, no?”

And there was that smile again. Her lips were just a breath away from mine. My body trembled involuntarily and it took all the control that I had left not to give in to the strong desire to taste those succulent lips. I had many unwritten rules I tried to follow, sometimes unsuccessfully, and one of them was never mixing business with pleasure.

I had never broken that rule yet but tonight I was really tempted. I attributed it to the fact that I hadn’t had even a casual girlfriend for a few months. Stupid hormones, I thought, feeling certain regret. Solange was simply delicious but sleeping with an artist had disaster written all over it and I didn’t want to find out just how messy it could get.

I smiled at Solange and whispered back, “I’m sure we both going to be very busy for the rest of the evening. Besides, I already have a prior commitment later tonight.” Of course, it was an outright lie but I couldn’t tell her the real reason.

You have to hand it to French women. They accept rejection with as much light and humor as everything else in life. Solange lifted her glass and toasted mine, “To our future business endeavors then.”

She took a sip of her champagne and then said with another smile, “There’s an extremely cute blonde who’s been staring at us for the last few minutes.” Solange chuckled and added, “Actually, my darling Bette, she’s been staring at you.”

I turned around, curious, and there she was, an extremely cute blonde in a tight green dress, looking at me. She simply smiled at me and I was lost in that adorable smile and in her beautiful hazel eyes.

TBC…