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“There was no fucking deal,” Marie laughed, leaning back against the chair.
The blonde took another sip of her drink, “I’m trying to repair this relationship that my mother so desperately decided to fuck up.”
Marie looked at the blonde, “Tina-look…”
“No, you look,” Tina said sternly, standing up- her long-sleeved, black lace dress hugging her waist-line, “I’m not here to negotiate, Marie. You will stop.”
“What happens if we don’t?” Marie asked, dark eyes twinkling in the light.
Tina stood silently-her long black nails tapping against the glass, “don’t make me your enemy.”
“You already are,” Marie responded. “Have been for generations. You expect it to change?”
Tina put her dirty martini on the table. “It did change.”
“Briefly,” Marie said, “until your mother screwed it up by attacking one of my girls.”
“Retaliation,” Tina causally shrugged her shoulders. “You know what? Since this isn’t going anywhere, I’m just going to leave.”
Marie watched as the blonde turned around to open the door, “Tina?”
Tina turned around to stare at her, “what?”
“Watch your back,” Marie smiled at the blonde.
Tina ran her tongue over her teeth as she smiled, “you’ve been warned.” Turning around, she opened the door and walked out of the room.
Jewel watched as the blonde confidently brushed past the beaded curtain, “you know Jewel, you might want to get something more- I don’t know…stable.”
Bette turned around to see Jewel roll her eyes at the woman. Turning to the left, she felt her heart stop.
Tina turned to look at the tan woman-dressed in a white suit. Brown eyes met hazel. Tina smirked, “I guess she is all yours.”
Bette watched as the woman dressed in all black strolled past her, her shoulder briefly brushing against the blondes. Feeling a small jolt, she turned around and watched the mysterious woman open the door and disappear.
“Bette?” Jewel asked, trying to gain the attention of the gallery owner.
Turning around, Bette stared at Jewel.
“This way,” Jewel said, gesturing towards the beaded curtain.
Bette nodded, following the footsteps of the young woman. Opening the door, she saw an older African American woman sitting in a leather chair.
“You must be Bette?” Marie asked, standing up to walk around her desk.