The Bette Porter Gallery – September, 1997

The room was filled to the brim with some of LA’s most affluent socialites. Bette floated around the room gracefully, charming all of her guests with intellect, passion, confidence, and an innate ability to make both man and woman feel as if they were the only people Bette had ever cared for in her life. She glanced over toward Alice and noticed that she was chatting up Catherine Opie, one of the featured artists in this fall’s show. She smiled slightly and excused herself from a conversation in which she was only half listening.

Bette made her way over to Alice and gently touched Catherine on the shoulder, smiling down at her artist when she looked up at the sudden contact.

“Catherine, I see you’ve met Alice, our local reporter.”

Catherine smiled and nodded. “Yes. And might I say it’s been a pleasure.”

Alice politely bowed her head and smiled. “Thank you.” She looked up at Bette, her eyes widening in relief only for a moment, indicating to Bette how welcomed her presence was. “I was just talking to Catherine about the story I’m doing on your show. She’s agreed to take me on a tour and explain all of her pieces displayed, isn’t that right?”

“Absolutely.” Catherine grinned, causing the mole above her lip to make its way up to her nose. Alice flinched inwardly, but no one would ever know of her discomfort from the million-dollar smile she had plastered on her face. Anything for a story. Anything.

“‘Scuse me, Bette.”

Bette turned around, a half smile planted on her face.

Eric smiled, his perfect teeth brightening his face. “This is Tina Kennard, my girlfriend. She heads up development at Alphaville. Tina, this is Bette Porter.”

Bette looked down at Tina, her smile widening as she admired the form in front of her. “Tina, nice to meet you.”

Tina returned the genial smile and shook Bette’s hand. “Nice to meet you too.”

“Bette,” Eric began, “How do you think Catherine Opie would feel about blowing that piece up to about five-by-six feet?”

She turned her attentions back to Eric and glanced over toward Catherine. “How about you ask her yourself? She’s standing right over there.”