Chapter Thirty-Six
Poppy curls up against Patricia in her luxurious sleigh bed. They’re watching The Good Wife—Patricia loves legal dramas—when Poppy’s phone rings. It’s Alec.
“I’ll pause it,” Patricia offers.
Poppy nods and takes the call.
“I didn’t expect to hear from you.” Twenty-four hours ago, this would have thrilled her. But now it feels like an intrusion. Life is full of surprises lately.
“You were right about those Baxter people. Mallory danced at the party.”
Poppy feels a twinge of jealousy. She knew it! But then Patricia trails her fingers along the back of her neck, and the feeling passes.
“Oh, Alec, it’s no big deal. I mean, it’s just a party,” she says. Patricia strokes her inner thigh.
“Please come out and meet me? I really need to talk,” he says.
“Right now? I don’t know,” she says, glancing at Patricia. “Hold on a sec.”
She mutes the call and tells Patricia what’s going on, and Patricia playfully bites her shoulder.
“Go. But don’t be too long. I’m already feeling possessive.”
Poppy shivers with delight.
Poppy meets Alec at the same diner as last time and finds him in a booth looking like someone ran over his dog. The place is busy and loud and smells like bacon and fresh coffee. She slides into the seat across the table and nods to the waiter waiting to fill her mug.
“I can’t believe she lied to me like that,” he says. “I don’t know what’s happening. This is just … it’s not our life.”
“Alec, you really should be talking to Mallory.” She’s impressed with how wise she sounds. One night with a lawyer and it’s already rubbing off on her. Her grandmother was right: You really are the company you keep.
“No. I need you to help me understand this world that’s brainwashed Mallory.”
“What world?”
“Burlesque!”
He says it so loud it cuts through the hum of conversation surrounding them and people look over.
“No offense, but maybe this is a you issue and has nothing to do with burlesque.” An icy draft seeps in through the nearby window and she pulls her coat back on.
“How do you figure? We were fine before that damn club.”
Poppy shrugs. “Maybe it wasn’t fine for her. Maybe she needs a change and you gotta either get with it or move on.”
He shakes his head. “It’s not that simple. The club is a bad influence on her. She blew her whole legal career.”
Oh. That. Poppy takes a deep breath.
“I have a confession to make: I set that up. I got her busted.”
Alec’s eyes widen. “Why the hell would you do that?”
“I was jealous. All I wanted was for Bette to mentor me, to take me under her wing. Instead, she showed more interest in some rando! It was so unfair. Even Agnes seems to like her better. I wanted to throw her off her game. And maybe get her in just enough trouble that she stopped hanging around the club. I never thought she’d actually get fired. ”
Oddly, at that exact moment, her phone rings with a call from Bette.
“Speak of the devil,” she says, flashing him her phone screen and sliding out of the booth. “Excuse me for a sec. I’m gonna to take this outside.”
A line has formed at the door with a bottleneck in the entrance, and Poppy has navigate around a mass of parked strollers.
“Hello?” she says, blinking against the strong wind.
“Poppy, it’s Bette. I need a favor. Can you cover my shifts this week?”
She moves under the awning and covers one ear so she can hear better.
“Why? What’s going on?”
“I’m away and I’m not going to be back for a few days.”
“Agnes is going to freak,” she says, smiling at the thought.
“I know. But this is good for you, Poppy. You can fill my place. It’s a chance for you to really prove yourself.”
Poppy’s already imagining herself headlining the show. But she doesn’t want Bette to get fired. She knows she still has a lot to learn from her.
“Missing a show for the private party is one thing. But bailing like this? And the Valentine’s Day show is in a few weeks. Will you be back by then?”
“I don’t know, so I need one more thing from you: Get Mallory an audition with Agnes. I’d set it up myself but she is going to be too pissed with me to give Mallory a chance. I’m counting on you to make this happen, Poppy. Can you do it?”
“I’ll try,” she says, confused. “But I don’t understand. Are you quitting?”
“Just get Mallory the audition. And be ready to rock your performances this week so Agnes doesn’t miss me too much, okay? The show must go on, and all that.”
“Where are you?”
“Look online. It’s no secret.”
Before she can ask her what that means, her phone dies. Damn it! She shoves it into her coat pocket and rushes back inside.
Alec is scrolling through his phone.
“Can I use that for a sec?” she asks Alec.
“My phone? Why?”
“Because I rushed here to meet you because you asked me to and now mine’s dead.”
He hands it over and she searches for any clue what Bette might be up to.
It takes seconds to get her answer from a gossip site: “Zebra Changes Her Stripes: The perennially private pop star is seen out and about with new gal pal, burlesque performer Bette Noire.” Below it, a photo of Bette and Zebra kissing at a Las Vegas Starbucks.
She looks up at Alec. “Bette’s hooking up with Zebra!”
He frowns. “The singer?”
She nods, showing him the screen.
“I guess she’s not with Mallory,” he says.
“See? It’s all cool. Just call her up and work it out.” She stands up. “Thanks for the coffee.”
“You’re leaving?”
“Yeah,” she says. “For once, I actually have someone waiting for me.”
Walking back to Patricia’s under a light dusting of snow, Poppy realizes that for the first time in as long as she could remember, she feels truly wanted. It gives her a sense of power, of largesse. She’ll do what Bette asked her to do.
She’ll help Mallory Dale get a job at the Blue Angel.