Free Blue Angel by Logan Belle

how sure you are that you will use it ‘someday’ for a costume,” Bette warned her. “I have drawers filled with impulse buys—fringe in colors that never work, bags of sequins, tassels that are gorgeous but too big. Just stay focused.”
    Even though she wished Bette had given some hint that she wanted to have sex with her again, at least she’d gotten one thing she’d wished for: Bette was taking an interest in helping her make it as a performer. This shopping trip proved it. Poppy planned to secure her place as one of the lead girls, and then no newcomer would be a threat. Especially with Bette as a mentor—Agnes knew Bette was the best thing she had going, and would do anything to keep her exclusive to the Blue Angel. And Poppy would do anything to keep Bette exclusive to her.
    It was a good sign that she’d invited Poppy to go shopping. As far as she was concerned, shopping was always foreplay—at least with men. Was it different between two women? Probably not.
    Just as she pondered the equation Bette + Poppy + shopping = hot sex, she spotted her. It couldn’t be. Why would Mallory Dale be at M&J Trimming?
    “That looks like Mallory Dale.”
    “That is Mallory,” Bette said, waving her over.
    “What’s she doing here?”
    “I invited her.”
    Poppy felt her face turn colors.
    “Wow. This place is amazing. It makes me wish I could sew,” Mallory announced.
    Poppy hated to admit it, but the other girl was terribly pretty, even in her stuffy wool coat and with lank brown hair that needed a good cut. Or highlights. Or both.
    “You can’t sew? Like, even a button?” Poppy said. Bette shot her a look.
    “No. Nothing. Isn’t it terrible? My mother could make some things and of course hemmed all of my skirts. I just take everything to a seamstress on 82nd and York.”
    “I didn’t sew that much until I got into performing. It’s too expensive to buy costumes off the rack. And it’s more personal this way. Although none of us can make costumes like Agnes.”
    “She makes things for you?”
    “Once in a while. If we have a clear idea and give her the material. I’m having her make an Alice in Wonderland costume for me.”
    “She mostly does it for Bette,” Poppy said.
    “You’re still fairly new,” Bette said. “She’ll make something for you one day. You just have to earn it.” She smiled at Poppy. Was that a sign? Even though Bette had invited that mousy interloper, there was still something special between them.
    The best thing to do was just cut this ill-fated shopping excursion short. Poppy headed to the register with her sequins and fringe, hoping that Bette would follow her. Instead, Bette took it upon herself to give Mallory a tour of the place. Even from the front of the store, she could tell the Mouse—and that was what she would call her from now on, at least to herself—was oohing and aahing at everything, as if Bette had given her the keys to the Emerald-fucking-City.
    “Okay, ready to go,” Poppy announced, waving her shopping bag.
    “We need to take Mallory somewhere to cheer her up,” Bette said. “She’s having a career crisis.”
    Great. Now the Mouse was latching on to Bette with some sob story about her job. From the looks of her clothes, it had to be paying pretty well.
    “Are you allowed to just wander off in the middle of the day?” Poppy asked, as sweetly and innocently as she could muster.
    “No, actually. I’m technically taking lunch, but I should get back. I have a huge thing due, and I’m going to be there half the night as it is. . . .”
    Poppy nodded, the picture of understanding.
    “It’s good to be responsible,” Poppy said.
    “Don’t be ridiculous! If you’re going to be there late tonight anyway, what difference does another hour make? Let’s shop some more. Is there anything you need to get?”
    Now the Mouse was the one turning colors.
    “Well,” she said slowly. She had this way of speaking that made you focus on her mouth. “My