What Eros Made Her

She had acted without thinking, touched her without thinking, and fell through the hole that addiction dug up.

Alice gaped.

Oh god, Bette. That girl spells trouble with a capital T. Shes ***** straight!

Alice, are you okay? Eric asked her.

Um, I dont really know, at this point, Alice replied. She turned to Eric, looked him in the eye, and realized that in the next few days, she wouldnt have the guts to do the same. Eric, what if -hypothetically -a ***** friend of yours suddenly had the hots for you while you were involved with Tina?

Eric leaned back and sat pensive for a moment. Are you saying you have the hots for me?

Alice laughed. No, no. Im saying, a ***** man suddenly came onto you.

And whatI liked him?

Okay, yeah -you totally liked him!

Id definitely tell Tina, Eric said, smiling. A story like thats too good to pass up.

Oh you would? Alice had a sinking feeling; Eric was joyously sincere, which was why Alice had been drawn to him and his conversation in the first place. Hence, pity made a face and Eric caught it.

Alice

Sorry, just preoccupied. Now, you were saying about that magazine?

If this was Tinas standard, then Bette wanted trouble and would definitely get it.

~*~*~*~

Dinner progressed and all was well.

So, youve been working at Alpha Ville a long time now? Bette asked, sipping at her wine, puckering her lips in a move that left Tina staring at the pink tip of her tongue.

Um…yes. Ive been at it for a few months now.

Really? Bette smiled gently, a finger tracing the table beneath her plate and finally finding contact on Tinas wrist. They were swift touches, lingering strokes of thumb and forefinger, as dinner was served in the habit of good, marvelous taste. Then you probably have a deep understanding of people.

Well yeah, but it isnt conducive to any healthy relationships, Tina elaborated. They bite your head off more often than not.

She slipped a fourth of her mousse into her mouth and almost missed the smile of pleasure this brought to Ms. Porters face. It was playful; it was dream-like. It was dangerous.

She then threw a nervous glance at Eric who was so engrossed with Alice that he merely gave her a glance before slipping back into conversation. She wanted to plead, to go to him and ask him to take her home, to please whisk her away from this woman, who very easily, outstripped most of the men she dated in intellect and will. True enough, Porter wasnt a man; though she was -in Erics own voice -a lover of women.

Are you all right? Bette asked, as she finished her dessert and turned to her fully.

Yes. A little too eagerly.

Are you sure? You look a bit pale from where Im sitting; tell me whats bothering you, Bette urged.

Tina didnt understand her bodys promptings, didnt want to, knowing that if she put a name to it, it would overpower her and leave her listless.

To Tina, the analogy was such: this was the ageless churning of cocoa, spilled onto a golden plate; chocolate losing their debate to the sun as they basked in heat at a shop window. Bette took advantage of every opportunity to spill thus, her attraction overflowing to the movement of her hands, to the slight bent of her body by which she cradled Tinas space. Porter melted, spilled over, and her ministrations were slow and exasperatingly deliberate, trying to untangle Tinas bundle of repressions. She tried, with the mere strain of half-hidden looks and meaningful touches.

Ill be honest with you, Tina started, clearing her throat and setting her food aside.

Supreme confidence enveloped Ms. Porter and she sat straighter, inviting criticism. Well, weve taken a scary turn, Bette joked.

You confuse me, Tina continued, barreling through.

I confuse you? Bette asked, as though unsure of what she had heard.

Just be honest, Ms. Porter. Is it vested interest that you have me seated to your right or simply because the chairs have all been taken?

If there was victory in Bettes look, it simply flashed and was gone. Vested interest? she echoed, her voice jolted to guilt.

Because my boyfriend is seated five persons away and for some reason, I feel as though Ive been delivered solely into your hands with as much privacy as that can afford.

And would that have been any different if your girl friends have done the same? Bette asked, unaware that her questions were putting her entirely at a disadvantage.

Tina looked at her pointedly. You are not one of my girlfriends.

What am I, then?

A suitor. The thought was neither chased, nor contemplated upon.

Tina lost her nerve and dropped her gaze. I dont know.

They were, unexpectedly, the most vulnerable words she had uttered the whole evening.

~*~*~*~

Bette Porter lost supremacy over her speech. She stared helplessly at this character moving about in Beautys encompassing play, drawing out what honesty there was in her script.

Bette, for her part, was wide-eyed, aware that the flood gates had opened and that for her at least, there was no turning back, no rewriting of what had already been written. It registered in her eyes that the whole evening was very well her fault.

She opened her mouth to say something, to regain control, to pull back in what had simply poured forth after the incident with the earring, when she had caressed and was not affronted for that act of tenderness; for that act of –God, the word tasted foreign in her mouth! -love. But alas, control wasn’t hers to take; blind Cupids arrow had lodged itself in the interstices of her heart.

Rejection be damned; there was really, nothing more to say except, Well, God have mercy on me, but I do.

~*~*~*~

TBC