Page 29 of The Wilder Widows

“No. I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Ten thousand,” I spit out.

“No. I worked too hard to get here, and I’m not losing my spot. They’ll fire me, and you know it.”

“Just say we kidnapped you or something.” Marge joined me at my side. “We can lock you in your bathroom.”

Her eyes dropped to the money, but then she shook her head. “No. I’ve worked my whole life to earn that spot. I’m not going to risk it so some has-been can steal my spotlight. No. The answer is no.”

Has-been? Heat flushed to my cheeks while I narrowed my eyes. “I may be a has-been, but I watched you dance last night, and I could have danced circles around you back in my prime. Hell, I can dance circles around you even now. Take the money, and I’ll show you.”

She lifted her pointed chin. “Not a chance in hell. I’m the star, and I won’t let you take my place. Now get out.”

Despite the fury stiffening my spine at her harsh rejection, I knew I would have done exactly the same thing. No amount of money could have coaxed me out of the spotlight.

“Fifteen thousand.” I tried anyway.

“I’m calling security.” She started toward the door, but Marge blocked her.

“Please. Just let me dance,” I begged as I looked over to her costume hanging from the rack. “I just want to wear it one more time.”

“Get out!” she shouted and tried once more to get to the door. This time Sylvie blocked the attempt.

“Please,” I begged. “I want to dance just one more time.”

“Security!” she shouted, but Marge leaped forward, trapping the word with a hand over her mouth.

“Marge! What are you doing?” I shrieked as I saw her manhandle the terrified dancer.

“I told you she’d say no, and we needed a gun!”

The moment she said ‘gun,’ the dancer’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head.

“Marge! We said no guns!” Doris swatted at her as the dancer ceased her struggle.

“I don’t have a gun. But this hussy is going to get us all arrested!”

The minute she admitted she was unarmed, the dancer resumed her fight. Marge muscled her backward, and I stood watching in horror as she shoved her inside the private bathroom and pushed the door shut.

“Help! Security! Help!” The dancer cried, but the door muffled her pleas so no help would be on the way.

“Marge! What did you do?” I tried to keep my breathing calm but watching Marge lean against the door to contain the restrained dancer sent my heart to speeds faster than I knew it could sustain.

“I can’t hold her long! Alice, hurry up and get dressed. Do it!”

I jumped at her commands and hurried over to the costume that sparkled even in these dim lights. When I reached out and touched it, the sounds of the struggle and Doris screeching behind me all faded away. Tracing my fingers around the crisp edges of the sequins and rhinestones, and then along the soft feathers pluming out behind it, I was instantly transported back to my youth. Back to the day they gave me my costume, and I knew that finally, I would be at the center of the stage.

The star.

“Quit dickin’ around, Alice! Step on it!” Marge huffed while she struggled to keep the door shut.

I snapped out of my nostalgia and turned around. “We can’t do this!”

“We’re already doing it! I’m not going to jail again for nothing!”

“Again?” Sylvie gasped.

“Just... not now!” Marge shook it off. “Put on the costume! I can’t hold her much longer!”