(Four months after reuniting, Bette and Tina have moved to New York.) 

It all started innocently enough.

The December winds were blowing harshly through the canyons of the city.  Leaning into the cold wind, Bette struggled to walk the few blocks to Rock Center from the midtown apartment she and Tina had been renting the past four months.

“I swear to you George, that maggot has no business telling us what to do with that piece of crap agreement that the lawyers… your lawyers, I might add…. said would help us get out of this stinking mess,” Bette was saying into her head piece.  Or screaming, given the occasional howling wind that made it difficult to judge whether or not George could hear her.

“Bette… Bette…calm down, will you?  It’s just 6 in the am for me over here,” George said patiently.  Wasn’t it supposed to be the holiday season? he grumbled to himself.  Where was her holiday spirit? he sighed.

He was smiling inwardly to himself, though, and patted himself on the back.  Bette was a natural. A bonafide, grade A, natural at this stuff.  He could depend on her to the cut through the chaos and bullshit, to give him the lowdown on a given deal.  He noticed she was also instinctively protective of his long-term interest (and by extension, hers) when studying, or negotiating a potential deal.   In these uncertain times, that was amongst her best contributions.

Thus far, they had been able to keep a clean record in the investments that she green-lighted.  He thought ruefully that his own record of greenlighting investments that she opposed, even if, on paper, they looked good to him, as well as to the hodgepodge of MBAs, accountants, and lawyers that were supposed to protect him, and the company, that he paid a king’s ransom to maintain, was not as good.

She was more than her weight in gold to him. Personally and professionally.

Early on, sensing her relative lack of experience, there had been people in his inner circle who had tried to maneuver against her.  But they had failed at every turn.  Thus now, more than ever, there really was no “daylight” so to speak, between them.  Nobody could argue with her record.  While she could make an argument against many of those whispering back-stabbers.  She proved a worthy opponent to anyone, even George, whenever anyone doubted her analysis or reading of a potential transaction.   George realized that if more people got to know about this aspect of her, someone would probably maneuver to try to get her from him, sooner or later.  That worry’s for another day, he thought.