Chapter One: Zoe
Five Years Later
I plopped down at the bar and stared at the mirrored wall behind the bottles of amber liquor. I could see my face, distorted by the strange angle of the glass. My hair was still wet from the dunk in the bathtub. My makeup had smeared around my eyes. I looked like a drug addict. It reminded me of the way my sister Regan used to look half the time when she was a user.
I wiped the black smudges from under my eyes as the bartender approached. I ordered a pint of cheap beer. I was still broke until I deposited this check from the freaky photo shoot I’d just finished. The hipster bartender put my beer on a napkin, and I took a deep swig before setting it back on the bar with a thud.
Pulling out my phone, I dialed Stacy. It rang several times before she answered.
“Is everything okay?” she said before I could speak.
“No. It’s not. It is definitely not okay.” I took another swig of beer.
“What happened? Do you need me to come pick you up or call someone?”
“No. I got out of there.”
“What happened?”
“Well, it was a strange shoot to say the least.”
“What happened?”
“He had me blindfolded the whole time. Then I fell into this stupid tub of water and got soaked. The blindfold came off, but I still never got a look at the photographer.”
“Did he at least pay you?”
“Yeah, he left the check on the stool in the middle of the room. After I got done changing, everything else was gone.”
“Thank goodness. I don’t think I can float your rent much longer. My savings is basically shot. I was going to have to dip into my measly 401k soon or start taking out credit cards.”
“I know Stace. I’ll pay you back soon.”
I hung up and chugged the last of my beer, wishing it would wash away the surges of adrenaline coursing through my veins. I paid for my beer and walked out into the sunshine. A red Porsche zoomed past like Batman chasing the bad guys.
That weekend, I had a gig with my burlesque troop. In the last five years, we’d gone from a startup group to headliners in some of the biggest clubs in the region. I’d become the choreographer several years ago, even though I’d dropped out of community college and never got my dance degree. When I’d taken over the troop, our attendance sky rocketed.
I arrived at the club in downtown Seattle on the bus at dusk with my costumes in a garment bag. Being the headliner and the troop’s coordinator made arriving on the bus a bit humiliating. A lot of people took public transportation in Seattle, so I just pretended like I was super ecofriendly or something. With my head held high, I marched through the side door of the building where the entertainers came in.
Several of the other girls had already arrived and were doing sound check with the audio technician. I should have been here already, but, the bus… Hurrying to take my things into the back, I hung up my garment bag and met the technician on the stage to finish sound check. We’d added a singer to the mix and she stood at the mic doing scales while the tech went back to his booth to turn knobs.
The way the man in his black shirt and black slacks held himself reminded me of Billy back before he became billionaire William Black. My heart sank. I couldn’t get him out of my brain. Every time I saw a sound guy or a computer technician over the last few days, it made me think of him.
When I started going out with my last boyfriend, I’d almost been able to get Billy out of my mind completely. We’d moved in together, buying a swanky townhouse on Queen Anne hill with a spectacular view of downtown and the Sound. Of course, that was before he’d totally betrayed me.
We finished sound check and went into the dressing room to get ready. Our show progressed in four acts now. Comedian, magician, singer, dancers. Then we had a big blow out finale with all the acts on stage together. I’d choreographed the whole thing and people loved it.
Our current
Five Years Later
I plopped down at the bar and stared at the mirrored wall behind the bottles of amber liquor. I could see my face, distorted by the strange angle of the glass. My hair was still wet from the dunk in the bathtub. My makeup had smeared around my eyes. I looked like a drug addict. It reminded me of the way my sister Regan used to look half the time when she was a user.
I wiped the black smudges from under my eyes as the bartender approached. I ordered a pint of cheap beer. I was still broke until I deposited this check from the freaky photo shoot I’d just finished. The hipster bartender put my beer on a napkin, and I took a deep swig before setting it back on the bar with a thud.
Pulling out my phone, I dialed Stacy. It rang several times before she answered.
“Is everything okay?” she said before I could speak.
“No. It’s not. It is definitely not okay.” I took another swig of beer.
“What happened? Do you need me to come pick you up or call someone?”
“No. I got out of there.”
“What happened?”
“Well, it was a strange shoot to say the least.”
“What happened?”
“He had me blindfolded the whole time. Then I fell into this stupid tub of water and got soaked. The blindfold came off, but I still never got a look at the photographer.”
“Did he at least pay you?”
“Yeah, he left the check on the stool in the middle of the room. After I got done changing, everything else was gone.”
“Thank goodness. I don’t think I can float your rent much longer. My savings is basically shot. I was going to have to dip into my measly 401k soon or start taking out credit cards.”
“I know Stace. I’ll pay you back soon.”
I hung up and chugged the last of my beer, wishing it would wash away the surges of adrenaline coursing through my veins. I paid for my beer and walked out into the sunshine. A red Porsche zoomed past like Batman chasing the bad guys.
That weekend, I had a gig with my burlesque troop. In the last five years, we’d gone from a startup group to headliners in some of the biggest clubs in the region. I’d become the choreographer several years ago, even though I’d dropped out of community college and never got my dance degree. When I’d taken over the troop, our attendance sky rocketed.
I arrived at the club in downtown Seattle on the bus at dusk with my costumes in a garment bag. Being the headliner and the troop’s coordinator made arriving on the bus a bit humiliating. A lot of people took public transportation in Seattle, so I just pretended like I was super ecofriendly or something. With my head held high, I marched through the side door of the building where the entertainers came in.
Several of the other girls had already arrived and were doing sound check with the audio technician. I should have been here already, but, the bus… Hurrying to take my things into the back, I hung up my garment bag and met the technician on the stage to finish sound check. We’d added a singer to the mix and she stood at the mic doing scales while the tech went back to his booth to turn knobs.
The way the man in his black shirt and black slacks held himself reminded me of Billy back before he became billionaire William Black. My heart sank. I couldn’t get him out of my brain. Every time I saw a sound guy or a computer technician over the last few days, it made me think of him.
When I started going out with my last boyfriend, I’d almost been able to get Billy out of my mind completely. We’d moved in together, buying a swanky townhouse on Queen Anne hill with a spectacular view of downtown and the Sound. Of course, that was before he’d totally betrayed me.
We finished sound check and went into the dressing room to get ready. Our show progressed in four acts now. Comedian, magician, singer, dancers. Then we had a big blow out finale with all the acts on stage together. I’d choreographed the whole thing and people loved it.
Our current
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