Free Naked Angel by Logan Belle Page A

something together. That way, if you freeze up, I’ll be onstage to dance around it.”
    “If you think it’s a good idea . . .” Nadia said. God, she hated herself for being so weak. It had been one bad night—she had to get over it. If she couldn’t, then she might as well admit what Max was trying to sell her—once a ballet dancer, always a ballet dancer. She would have no second act.
    “I think it’s a tremendous idea,” said Justin. “Now maybe you ladies can help me come up with a theme. I was thinking something to do with Hollywood. Martha’s obsessed with watching old movies lately. Ever since Elizabeth Taylor died and she re-watched
BUtterfield 8
, she’s been on a classic film kick.”
    “I love that idea,” said Mallory.
    “You could do ‘silver screen sirens,’ ” said Nadia.
    “Yes!” Mallory and Justin said at the same time.
    “I’m going to talk to Gemma about the costumes,” said Justin.
    “Yeah, don’t distract Agnes. I need her focused on the Vegas costumes,” said Mallory.
    “I was thinking Gemma could do those, too,” said Justin. “She did an incredible job on the opening night costumes.”
    “She did,” Mallory said, slowly and with an obvious effort at diplomacy. “But Agnes directed her. And Vegas is too important to trust to anyone but Agnes. Winning that would get us lots of press and legitimize us as a serious club, not just another place jumping on the burlesque bandwagon. Don’t get me wrong: I’m glad you like Gemma’s work—I do, too. And as Agnes’s apprentice she’ll be helping, I’m sure. But I think it’s important that Agnes is the one to actually make the costumes. I want her to see that as
her
project.”
    “Okay,” Justin said, “I’ll talk to them about the Vegas costumes and getting on a schedule. I’m going over there anyway.”
    “Great. Saves me a trip.”
    “Tell Gemma I want to see the costumes for this weekend’s show by Friday,” Bette said. “I don’t want to look like some extra off the set of
The Tudors
.” Bette and Mallory were performing a Boleyn sisters act.
    “I’ll relay the message,” Justin said with a smile. “And Nadia—I’m glad you’re in.”
    Gemma spread the synthetic fur fabric on the table and cut it into six-inch strips with pinking sheers. She was relieved to finally be onto the trim of the costume. Mallory had asked her to design two Tudor-period costumes—one for her and one for Bette Noir. The bodice of each had taken Gemma days, the fronts covered with plastic jewels, pearls, sequins, and a central crucifix design made from gold Lurex. Exhausting.
    She’d taken the job as an apprentice to Agnes, but the gig was turning into a sweatshop. The old woman didn’t want to do anything herself. What was she working on up there, all day, every day?
    There was no way Gemma could do this job for more than a year. Now, more than ever before, she felt an urgency to get her own label off the ground. But how was she going to save enough money? The money she made working for Agnes barely covered her living expenses. She needed an investor. The notion of being able to finance anything herself was naïve at best.
    “Hello?”
    Gemma looked up from the cutting table. She hadn’t noticed that the front door had opened until Justin Baxter was standing in front of her.
    “What are you doing here?” she said.
    “You’re that happy to see me?” He was joking, but she could tell there was something serious underneath what he was trying to pass off as banter. She felt bad: She hadn’t even acknowledged his gift. It was a delicate, chain link silver bracelet. She knew she should have just called and thanked him, but she was still trying to make sense of what had happened the night of his party. She knew his reputation: Certainly, their hot little encounter was nothing remarkable to him. He probably sent gifts to everyone. So she didn’t want to seem like she thought it was something more than it was. And in