I spent another glorious, relaxing day lazing around my apartment, watching television with Teddy perched on my shoulder. Finally, at 3, I got off the couch and put on a bra and some real pants. I felt guilty about ghosting on Scarlet with no explanation, and I knew that if I didn’t go see her soon, I’d put it off until it was too late, and she would never forgive me.

So I walked to the club, sweating like a pig the whole way. I’d have to take a shower before I went over to Turner’s place. Halfway there, I realized that I should have texted Scarlet to make sure she was actually working that night. Too late now. She’d be there or she wouldn’t.

The club hadn’t opened yet by the time I arrived. Javier let me inside, and I went straight to the seraglio. Fresh Meat and Xanadu were sitting in the front room, laughing at something on Xanadu’s cell phone.

They both looked up as I came through the door. “Hey, Sassy,” Xanadu said.

Germaine hadn’t said anything to them, then. If they knew about my arrangement with Turner, or even that I wasn’t going to be working for the next month, they would be all over me like white on rice. It was fine with me if they just thought I was showing up to work like always. I didn’t want to tell them about my personal business and wouldn’t even if Turner hadn’t told me to keep my mouth shut.

“Hey,” I said. “Is Scarlet working tonight?”

Fresh Meat nodded. “She’s getting ready.”

“Thanks,” I said, and moved on to the dressing room.

Scarlet spotted me as soon as I stepped into the room. Her head whipped around and her eyes narrowed. Shit. I was really in trouble.

There was a handful of other dancers in the room, so I quickly moved toward Scarlet before she said something that would put all of them on high alert. I didn’t want the whole club knowing what I was up to. They were the worst gossips in the world, everyone from the dancers to the servers to the dishwashers. It was like living in a small town where everyone knew exactly who you were and would call up your dad the instant they caught you sneaking cigarettes behind the convenience store. Not that that had ever happened to me.

She grabbed my arm as soon as I came within grabbing distance. “What the fuck?” she snapped at me.

I shook her off. “Look, I know,” I said. “Let’s go sit at the bar and I’ll explain.”

“Yeah, you’d better,” she said, standing and tying her robe closed over her lacy bra. “I hate that mysterious text message bullshit.”

“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know what to say.”

All of the other dancers were watching us curiously by then. So much for my efforts to fly below the radar. I didn’t totally trust Scarlet to keep a secret, but she was nosy and smart, and I knew if I didn’t tell her she would find out somehow—and then tell everyone else, just to get back at me.

We left the seraglio and went out to the bar, Scarlet teetering behind me on her stilettos. She didn’t say anything to me until we’d sat down and ordered our drinks: Coke for me, whiskey for Scarlet. She downed her shot in one gulp and slid the glass to the bartender for a refill. Then she looked at me and said, “Spill.”

“It’s a client,” I said.

“Oh, so you don’t have cancer? That’s good,” she said. “No secret babies?”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not pregnant. It would take me more than a month to have a baby, anyway.”

“Well look at that, little Sassy understands the basics of human reproduction,” Scarlet said.

God, she could be really mean when she was pissed off. “You’re an asshole,” I said. “Do you want me to tell you or do you just want to act like a jerk?”

She looked a little sorry, then. “Okay, fine. I’ll shut up and listen.”

I told her the whole story, leaving out key details like Turner being The Owner. Her expression changed from interest to surprise and finally settled somewhere around envy. When I finished talking, she drained her glass again and said, “Lucky you.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” I said, annoyed. “It’s totally luck. There’s no other reason a client would be interested in me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Chill out, Sassy. I just mean it’s a sweet deal for you. Same guy all month, no dancing, and I’m assuming he’s rich, which means he’ll probably buy you shit.”

I decided not to mention the dress and shoes he’d already bought me. “Yeah, maybe,” I said. “He’s kind of… I don’t know. He’s weird. I don’t really understand him.”

Scarlet looked at me for a moment, assessing, and then started laughing. “The irony! What about rule one, Sassy? Isn’t that the lecture you gave me on my first day?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said stiffly.

“Sure,” she said. “Play dumb. That’s okay. I know you, and you’re gone. Hook, line, and sinker. Enjoy the ride. Don’t get in too deep. You know they always walk away and break your heart.”

“I’ve never had my heart broken,” I said.

“The general you,” she said. “Not you specifically.” She sighed, and clambered down from the bar stool. “I have to finish getting ready. Text me if anything exciting happens, okay? And stay out of trouble.” She kissed me on the cheek and tottered off toward the seraglio.

I couldn’t decide if that had gone better than I expected, or worse. Whatever. Nobody had cried, at least.

I glanced at the clock. It was already a little past 4, and clients were starting to arrive. I needed to head home and get ready to go to Turner’s. I finished my Coke and was about to bail when a voice said, “Is this seat taken?”

I knew that voice. I turned and looked up. It was Altman, one of my regulars.

Well, that threw a wrench in the works.

“Hello, Sassy,” he said, and sat in the chair Scarlet had just abandoned. “I barely recognized you. The hair, you know. How are you?”

Shit. I needed to be nice to him, because taking a month off was probably going to lose me some of my regulars anyway, and I couldn’t afford to piss him off; but I also needed to not be late to Turner’s. I decided to hedge my bets. “Oh, Mr. Altman! I’m doing just great. It’s so nice to see you. I wish I could chat, but I’m actually not working tonight. I just stopped by to say hi to a friend.”