CHAPTER ONE:

Tina Kennard lay on her balcony overlooking the crystal blue water. Her entire body was relaxed. She felt beautiful; gorgeous; completely happy and content. Everything in her life was as close to perfection as she could imagine. Especially in comparison to the train-wreck it had been six months earlier.
Tina rolled onto her stomach and stretched out along her beach towel. She sipped slowly on the icy water that was resting in the shade within arms reach of her. Letting the cold water roll down her throat Tina leaned over and grabbed her watch from that was resting on an imported copy of the L.A. Times. 2:34pm. She sighed and rolled back onto her back, giving a quick glance down her chestnut brown stomach. Never in a million years had Tina thought she could tan so wonderfully. But hey, a European summer can do a girl wonders. She scrunched her warm chocolate brown locks into a loose bun and lay back down on her towel. Tina had dyed her hair two weeks after leaving the US. At first she thought it was a sad, typical Ive-just-been-heartbroken-so-Im-going-to-do-the-dramatic-hair-change thing. But it turned out she loved it. She had been a brunette when she was in college, but had gone back to blonde when she moved to L.A.
Tina wrapped her sunglasses back on and then reached for her 40G iPod. One of lifes little pleasures. She cranked up some new upbeat summer club song and lay back down under the scorching Italian sun.
God bless the afternoon siesta. She muttered.


Bette Porter was slumped over her desk at the CAC. Her head was thumping. What a ***** ***** day she thought. What a ***** ***** week; no, month, no, six months! She took her glasses off and tossed them on her desk. She had too much work to do and not enough time to do it in. She felt tired and withdrawn from the world. While Provocations had been a success, the board now thought of her as a loose cannon. She couldnt really blame them. Yes, Provocations had brought the CAC attention, but certainly not all good. And now she was stuck with average, boring exhibitions for three, possibly four, months back to back.
Bette had lost all passion she had had for life. She looked tired and listless. Nothing was fitting her well at all. She looked at the phone and stared at it intensely; wishing it would ring and preying that it wouldnt. Bette hadnt spoken to Tina in nearly six months. Not a single word since Tina ran out after that horrible night.
Bette knew she was in Europe, Shane had told her after Tina had moved there. Part of Bette became bitter at the thought, yet again. Seven years and all it took was three weeks for Tina to pack up and move across the world. Not a single word. Not even a phone call. Just a note that had been thrown at her from an angry young hairdresser that looked as though she wanted to rip Bettes throat out.
Bette remembered the note off by heart. She had read it well over 100 times. All five lines of it:

Dear Bette;

Im sorry to write this in a note. Sorry I cant face you right now, or answer the phone when you call. I just need time. I feel so lost. I feel so I dont know.
I need to leave the L.A. right now. I want to be by myself, just sort my life out. And I need to do it alone.
I want you to know Im truly sorry for everything that has happened between us. I never in a million years wanted this to happen. For me to run from you like this, but I just cant have you around me right now. It would be too destructive.
There is so much hurt and anger and resentment between us right now. Or maybe thats just me
Anyway, Shane knows where Im going. If you need me, just ask her and shell give you my numbers. But please Bette, please dont call me unless you need me. Let me come to you: when Im ready and on my terms.

Love Tina.

Bette waited three weeks before she rang Shane and asked for Tinas number. Shane hung up on her within 25 seconds. Bette kept trying but Shane refused every time. Even when all of the girls applied the pressure and tried to get Shane to give her Tinas phone number Shane refused. In fact when Bette approached a slightly intoxicated Shane at Milk one night and demanded Tinas phone number Shanes reply had been something along the lines of: Ill tell you what; if you go and get hit by a bus, Ill call Tina and let her know. And that had been the extent of it. Tina had told Shane that if something happened and Bette needed her to call her, but otherwise just let her be. And Shane, loving Tina almost more than life itself, had complied.
Bette sighed and continued staring at the phone. How long was she going to have to wait? Was Tina ever going to call? It would be six months since the fateful night of Provocations in less than two weeks. Bette would give her right arm just to speak to her. She ached for her. She knew, somewhere deep down that she needed to get over it. Move on, Tina was not coming back. But she just couldnt. How could she move on when her heart was floating around Europe somewhere?