Just me, answered Bette while walking slowly to the registration desk.

***

The gallery opening that evening was a success, but a bore, thought Bette as she grabbed a taxi back to her hotel. The collection of Wassily Kandinskys work juxtaposed with Andy Warhols should have been spectacular, but the presentation was unimaginative and downright conservative, in Bettes humble opinion. But she played nice with the other museum directors, newly secure in her professional standing as the CAC director who recently sent the Provocations exhibit to the London Tate Museum after its enormously successful, and headline-grabbing debut in the States. The highlight of her evening was chatting with Peggy Peabody, the new owner of the CAC.

Bette darling, how nice to see you over here in the civilized side of the US! exclaimed Peggy, kissing Bette once on each cheek.

Peggy, really, what is it you dont like about LA? questioned Bette.

Besides its insufferable traffic, horrific pollution, low-literacy rate and ill-dressed men? replied Peggy.

Peggy, dont hold back, tell me how you really feel, Bette smirked.

Have you met my daughter Helena yet? asked Peggy.

No, I havent had the pleasure, replied Bette.

Im sure the two of you will get on famously, like two peas in a pod! offered Peggy.

Im looking forward to it! said Bette.

***

Bette quietly left the gallery opening without bidding adieu. The time difference, coupled with the 2 hour nap she took after checking into the hotel left Bette with nervous energy and no place to expend it. She literally ran into Greg in the doorway of the hotel.

We have to stop meeting like this Miss, uh, I mean Bette! said Greg. Are you in for the night?

I guess I am, said Bette, none too happy to be heading to an empty hotel room without even the hope of a flashing message light to greet her.

Why dont you let me show you where the lipstick lesbians hang out in The City? said Greg in a stage whisper.

You know what, I think Id like to, replied Bette, her smile actually reaching all the way to her eyes, but I cant go to a bar dressed like this, exclaimed Bette gesturing at her Stella McCartney suit.