Chapter Text
Los Angeles, January
Bette Porter stared out across the expanse of downtown LA through the plate glass windows of the conference room. A thin haze clouded the immediate horizon line of skyscrapers, but if she squinted her brown eyes tight enough, she could just make out the Pacific Ocean in the far off distance as the sun was setting low in the January sky. She hadn't realised she had been holding her breath until her daydream was broken by the sound of her phone. She exhaled and felt her muscles relax. Turning around slowly, she wondered how long the phone had been ringing as she watched the screen dial off to voicemail.
“James,” she sighed, rolled her eyes, and opened her handbag, placing her phone inside.
Her gaze returned to the horizon. Absent-mindedly, she reached inside her white shirt collar and felt for the necklace. Her index finger slipped over the white grooves of the abalone shell, her thumb caressing the hollow behind. The brunette closed her eyes as a bittersweet smile played at her lips.
Los Angeles, the previous August
Bette drummed her manicured fingernails impatiently against the steering wheel of her SUV. The traffic hadn't moved for at least 20 minutes and she wondered why she was bothering at all with this pointless trip. It was another sweltering Los Angeles day and she'd have liked nothing more than to go home, strip, and blast the aircon. Instead, she was trapped in rush hour gridlock, heading out of West Hollywood against her wishes.
“Eighty-five fucking degrees and I'm sat in an aluminium can on the fucking Santa Monica Freeway,” she grumbled to herself, pinching the bridge of her nose with her forefinger and thumb. Her annoyance was interrupted by the hands free phone.
“Hey, baby sis,” came the cheerful voice of Bette's older sister, Kit, “how's it goin'?”
“Kit, I think I've found hell.”
“Huh, starting your vacation off like that, right? You are meant to be relaxing,” queried Kit.
“Yeah, well nothing about my situation is relaxing right now,” replied Bette through gritted teeth, as she slammed her hand on the car horn as yet another drive cut her up.
“Anyway, I just wanted to check you had actually left the house, sis, or else I'd have to come over there and drive you myself.”
Better could hear the smile in Kit's voice and she relented, a little.
“I appreciate that. Yes, I can confirm I have left the house. I should make it to Malibu in an hour or so. Unless the traffic gods have more blessings for me.”
“Maybe view it as your last lil hurdle of stress to overcome before you can have a whole month of doing... well, whatever the hell you want.”
“Ever the optimist.”
Kit was silent for a moment.
“I'm serious, baby girl. Just enjoy being out of the city for a few weeks. Life will still be waiting here when you get back. Read. Drink. Sleep all the livelong day if you want to. Just promise me you will try to unwind.”
“I... promise”, replied Bette, “I'll text you when I arrive”.
“Love ya.”
“I love you, too.”
The phone call dialled off and Bette exhaled again, as she slowly but surely made her way along the freeway.
*
Bette made it to west Malibu a little after 8pm. She pulled into the private driveway of her beach rental and for the first time since leaving LA earlier, she unclenched her shoulders, feeling some tension release just a little. Stepping out into the evening air, she looked up into the sky at the pastel hues of pink and coral blending together, also feeling for the first time that this beach break may not be so bad an idea after all.
The rental was spacious, with modern touches, but decorated in a rustic beach style. There were comfortable cream sofas and armchairs, with pale blue throws and cushions to melt into. Life was dotted about the house in the shape of golden and satin pothos plants, draping their delicate leaves over the side of white ceramic pots. As if it was possible to forget she was at the beach, an old redwood surfboard sat above the fireplace. The house was smaller than some of the other rentals along the road, but Bette wanted to feel like she was at home and had selected a rental that met her specific tastes. Malibu was stuffed with overpriced, luxury rental homes, but she would be unable to truly relax in a place so expensively furnished that she'd be constantly be on guard for a stray drop of red wine or a misplaced, sandy shoe.
Bette had eaten a large salad before she left West Hollywood, having taken the afternoon off work to pack and prepare. After she had toured the house and unpacked her suitcases in the master bedroom, she returned to the perfectly cosy kitchen to store groceries and wine, leaving one bottle of Napa Valley red wine out to sample on her first night. The deck outside was beckoning, and Bette could hear the waves through the large patio doors she had cracked open as soon as she arrived.
She changed into slacks, a black tank top, and relieved her aching feet from their shoes, before following the sound of the sea to the outside deck. Once there, she stretched out on one of two sun loungers placed neatly beside a firepit, glass of red wine in hand and blanket covering her in the cool night air. The sky was a deep indigo, speckled by stars, and the last vestiges of the sun bade their farewell on the far horizon. Bette closed her brown eyes momentarily, thinking... “okay, universe. You're telling me to relax? Maybe, just maybe, I can try-”
POP. A large champagne cork landed with a small thud on the sun lounger to her left, soon followed by a spray of the offending item which hit her square in the face.
“What the fuck!” muttered Bette, raising up on her elbows quickly, peering incredulously to the left where a bamboo fence separated her home from the next.
There was the sudden scraping of a chair, closely followed by the patter of bare feet running along the neighbouring decking.
“Shit, did I get you?!”
A sweet, blonde head suddenly appeared, smiling shyly but full of sympathy.
“I'm so sorry, I had no idea that someone had moved in next door!”
“Neither had I”, replied the brunette, wiping her face on the blanket as she stood, staring back grumpily at her neighbour. The blonde couldn't help but let a small giggle escape as she watched her new acquaintance dry herself off.
“I am so sorry, the damn thing just flew right outta my hand. I'm Tina,” she said, smiling and stretching out a hand in introduction, “I just moved in today too. Again, I'm really sorry, popping corks is clearly not one of my strong suits.”
“Clearly,” replied Bette, ignoring the outstretched hand. Instead, she gathered her blanket and wine, and moved to retreat inside. “I'm Bette,” she pouted, “good night.”
And with a slam of the patio door, the brunette was gone. The blonde laughed openly this time, a little shocked at her neighbour's brusqueness, but not much bothered, and more than a bit intrigued as she watched Bette pull the curtains shut.
“Feisty!” she exclaimed to the night air, laughing once more and raising her eyebrows, as she too decided to retreat to her own home and back to her freshly-opened bubbles.