“I need time.” Came the response. “I wanted to meet you again. I need to get to know you, to trust you. I guess I’m a bit like a protective mother. And since motherhood is not likely to happen, I protect my work in that regard.”

Ah, another personal snippet. No children in her future. She doesn’t wear a ring. I wonder what her relationship status is. Bette assumed Tina was straight as no rumors otherwise had come to her attention. Bette’s mind was swirling.

The conversation was steered back to art in general, this time by Tina. They finished their meal and Bette was really no closer to an agreement than she was while still in LA.

“Bette, I have some work to get done today, would you join me for dinner in the city?” Was Tina cooling the conversation. Was she just playing with Bette?

“Absolutely. I would love to have dinner with you.” Bette just smiled across the table at Ms. Kennard.

As they rose from the table and said their goodbye’s, Tina walked toward Bette and taking both of Bette’s hands into her own, kissed first one cheek and then the other. “I will see you this evening Bette.”

~~

Giselle drove Bette back into the city as she had errands to run for Ms. Kennard. Bette was amused by the small talk but wanted to know more about Tina. She was really surprised by how little she knew of the artist herself. So little of her personal life was written about. In fact, in all of the articles Bette had read about Tina Kennard she had never once read about her being married or romantically linked to anyone. Though she had thought better of it earlier in the conversation she couldn’t hold her questions any longer.

“So Giselle, tell me about your boss. Tell me something that I would be surprised to know.”

Giselle looked straight ahead for a few moments thinking about her response. She was very loyal to Ms. Kennard. “She is not a tortured soul. Her work does not come from a dark place within her. It is her happiness that allows for beautiful insight into the world. It makes her very happy to be creative.” Giselle hoped that those words would suffice.

Bette smiled at her, feeling as though she had opened up a dialogue. “That’s really nice to know. Sometimes phenomenal work comes from such great angst. It’s nice to know she is a content person.” Bette turned to cast her eyes out the side window of the car to enjoy the scenery. Several silent minutes went by.

“I did not say that she was content. I said that she was not tortured and that she was happy.” Giselle was not blunt with her comment but, rather, she was direct.

“OK, what would make her content.” Bette knew that she was reaching and that Giselle may feel as though Bette had crossed that imaginary line of asking more than was respectfully acceptable.  

Giselle’s response was matter of fact. “She needs someone to share her life with. Someone to share her happiness with. That would make her content.” Giselle’s eyes never left the road.

“Is that your observation or hers.” Now Bette had probably crossed the line.

“I have said too much already. You are very nice Ms. Porter. I don’t expect that you would use this information to hurt Ms. Kennard.”

“Absolutely not. I have great respect for Ms. Kennard, her art and most importantly her privacy.” Tina had obviously keep her private life, private. Bette wondered if it was because of something more than it being her life and as such would not allow it to become news worthy or, if there was something more to it. Bette was silently wondering about her marital status. Alice hadn’t said anything about that when she Googled her. Tina Kennard was an amazingly beautiful woman. She was sure that she would have no trouble attracting a worthy man. However, she always appeared alone in photographs. Bette had never really given it any thought before.

Bette had asked Giselle to drop her at the Musee d’Orsay. She was going to have some time this afternoon and could not think of a better way to spend it than enjoying one of her favorite museums. The Musee d’Orsay always seemed to feel a bit more intimate than perhaps the Louvre, but, the Louvre held it’s own mystic.