“Of course.” She nodded and lowered her attention to the clutch in her lap.
“James,” Randy added, “Daniella is responsible for her elderly grandmother, and she will be away from work for that week, unfortunately without pay, and…”
James nodded as the lightbulb went on. “Is a thousand dollars for your trouble satisfactory?” Lord knows he wasn’t paying for sex, just her accompaniment on the trip, so there was nothing illegal about what he was doing. But he went through it in his head. The last thing he wanted was to get fired.
“More than enough. Thank you. That will help me out greatly.” She relaxed and sat back in the seat. As the lights went down, a man in a theatrical tuxedo covered with more sparkles than Dorothy’s Ruby Slippers stepped onto the stage. “Excuse me. I need to use the ladies’ room while they make the announcements.” Daniella patted James’s hand and stood, slowly making her way up the aisle toward the back. James watched her go, still not able to pull his gaze away. He’d admired beautiful women before, but none had ever turned his head and made him wonder if he truly was gay before. Women certainly didn’t get him excited…at least they never had, until now. He returned his attention to the stage.
“Ladies, gentlemen, and those who have yet to make up their minds,” the sparkly man onstage said. “It is my pleasure to introduce you to our ladies of the evening—Bella Fontaine, Candy Cain, Carmen Merengue, and Creamy Sugar.” The audience hooted as the entertainers paraded down the aisles, each taking a turn and bowing as they were announced.
“You didn’t tell me this was a drag show,” James said as he leaned over to Randy.
“Does it matter?” Randy challenged, and James shook his head, sitting back in his seat and wondering where Daniella was. As the “ladies” gathered on the stage, James checked to see if Daniella was going to rejoin them. She was going to miss the show.
“It goes without saying that no show at Cabaret Candide would be complete without our star,” the man onstage continued. “It’s my pleasure to present the one, the only, the amazing… Lala Traviata.” The curtain in the back of the stage parted just enough for a figure to emerge, wearing an ermine-trimmed cape, a towering tiara, and long white gloves…and James almost swallowed his tongue.
Chapter Two
Daniel, aka Daniella, aka Lala Traviata, loved the applause. It was why he got up every afternoon and looked forward to the day. The room rang with it, and Lala Traviata in all her splendor took a bow, accepted the offered microphone for the closing number, and swept center stage. The music began, and she belted out a signature rendition of “Que Sera, Sera.” It never failed to bring down the house, and as the last note rang through the theater, the curtain lowered, the others stepped off the stage, and Lala Traviata took her final accolades of the night.
Under normal circumstances, Lala would return to the dressing room, change clothes, remove makeup, and quietly leave by the stage door, joining the people on the sidewalk as they hurried home or to their final stop of the night. But not tonight. Lala removed her jewels and slipped off the shoes she’d worn onstage, perching on the edge of the sofa against the dressing room wall and leaning back.
A knock announced the visitors, and then the door opened, with the other ladies entering to talk and discuss the performance. They came in still dressed but without wigs—and in some cases shoes, because the damned things hurt. Lala knew that beauty was a process—painful and a great deal of work.
“I think we were fabulous,” Candy Cain said in her usual bright tone. Sometimes Candy was too perky for words.
Lala sighed, and Bella Fontaine glared before going in for the verbal kill. “Honey, you need to work on your timing, and tomorrow you’re going to be here two hours early so we can go over the ‘It’s Raining Men’ number,” Bella said. “You were all over the place, and if you step on my feet one more time, you’re going to get a high kick and take a flying leap off the stage.” The staredown was priceless, and Lala was pleased to keep quiet. “All you gotta do is count. Looking pretty isn’t enough.”
“Don’t be bitchy with me, Miss Cellulite City.” Candy glared right back.
Lala cleared her throat, and both of them quieted instantly. Being the queen did have its advantages. “Candy, you need the help. And, Bella, your pirouette looks more like a dying bird. I think you could both use some work. Tomorrow we’ll all be here early to make the number perfect and ready for when the place reopens after the renovations.”