~~~~~

     "It’s always been there. This … attraction."

     "But you were attracted to Jodi, too," Dr. Foxworthy countered. "Enough for you to travel cross-country to win her back, enough for her to move out here for you."

     Bette shook her head. "But not with me."

     "So Jodi moved away from her home, her friends; she agreed to a monogamous relationship, even though it was against her nature. Yet she got her own place. Why is that?"

     "I guess she wasn’t willing to give up her independence, didn’t want to take that chance with me."

     "And is the current arrangement with Tina so different? Which one of you is willing to take that risk first?"

~~~~~

     Alone in her office, Bette set aside a small stack of portfolios and picked up the envelope with Tina’s earring again.

     She remembered reading somewhere that fate was an opiate for the weak, and words like "destiny" and "happenstance" were literary contrivances. Bette used to believe that … but then they touched. Did her imagination betray her when she felt the electricity between them?

     Bette considered herself a serious person, capable of passion when it came to art, but she never saw herself as a romantic. That crap only happens in books and TV, for Chrissake. She thought about Phoebe from time to time, but Phoebe was her first. Bette had never really been in a relationship longer than a few months, usually taking care to choose traveling artists who wouldn’t remain in the same city for long. She led a fulfilling existence: she had her work, her friends, a house she was remodeling. She liked her autonomy, she liked living alone, and she had love in her life. It just wasn’t romantic love. Ultimately, Bette had decided that if it happened, it happened; if it didn’t, it didn’t.

     She had glided about in a controlled fugue – greeting guests, graciously accepting compliments, dropping an occasional comment or witticism here and there – before eventually making her way to Tina. While they chatted politely about the photographs, all Bette could think about was kissing her, what she tasted like, her face contorted by an orgasm. She told herself that it was only lust, but her mind took off: she began to wonder if Eric, that conceited lawyer, ever satisfied Tina the way that she could …

     Bette stirred from her thoughts and turned back to the portfolios. As a rule, she never went after straights or the bi-curious – too much drama and who wants the headache? Deciding that Tina wasn’t going to come by and needing a little clarity, she got up to leave when her assistant buzzed over the speakerphone.

     "Bette? There’s a Tina Kennard to see you."

     She sank back down in her chair. "Send her in." Bette gripped the edge of the desk and steeled herself.

~~~~~