Bette shifted uncomfortably in her long skirt. She didn’t know why she kept it in her closet and wore it at least once every month. It was constrictive and much too conservative. But wearing it made her feel secure, protected. It literally and figuratively kept her together. It didn’t hurt that it made her legs look impossibly long and her ass tight and high. Bette smirked. Then she remembered how Tina had threatened to throw it out one day while they were "Spring cleaning" and her smirk turned into a frown.

Dr. Morga basically told her that her problems with Tina were not really problems with Tina. They were Bette’s problems with herself. Bette was tempted to scoff. I knew that! But she restrained herself. Did she really? Did she really know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Tina would not, in fact, leave her? That it was all in her head?

"No. I can’t be certain about that." Bette murmured softly.

Bette carefully turned into the CAC parking lot.

She bypassed James’ station, oblivious to the man’s frantically waving arms. She opened the door to her office and threw her briefcase on the couch. She made a beeline to the washroom. While she was in there, she didn’t hear her office door open and close. She didn’t hear someone pick up her briefcase where it fell to the floor. She didn’t hear the soft sigh nor the sound of a tired body sinking into the soft leather couch.

When she exited, still wiping an errant water droplet from the sleeve of her jacket, she nearly didn’t see the woman resting on her couch. But she did notice the steel-toed boots.

She only knew one person who wore steel-toed boots even outside a construction site.

"James!!!!!"

Her panic-stricken exclamation was an implosion. It drew her secretary into her office and the woman on the couch to her feet.

A brown utility belt dropped to the floor.

"Bette, Ms. Candace Jewell is here to see you," James announced feebly. He shot his boss an alarmed look and hurried out. At his desk, he hurriedly speed-dialed Tina.

"Bette."

"God it’s you."

"Hi."

"Oh my God."

"I hope I didn’t come at a bad time. I was waiting in the exhibit area. When I saw your car pull up, I came in here. I hope you don’t mind." Candace motioned to the briefcase, looking forlorn in one corner of the couch, "It was on the floor." Candace held out her hands, "I know how you hate messes."

Bette slowly, carefully sidled to her chair, safely behind her desk. She dropped into it gracelessly. Her eyes couldn’t seem to drag themselves away from the dusky woman across from her. Candace looked helpless and supplicant. Candace looked the same as she did the first time they met. Candace was in her office, waiting.

Bette took a deep breath. Let it out.

Took another one. And let it out.

She let Candice wait.

TBC