“Hey, Shana, have you seen Hector anywhere?”

Shana is one of the other ladies working at The Mirage. Her eyes meet mine in the lit-up mirror she’s sitting in front of. She has the largest oval eyes I’ve ever seen on anyone. Nestled into her twenty-year-old coffee cream skin, they’re most definitely her most appealing feature. And she knows how to make them look great, bringing them to the forefront with make-up just enough to enhance them. A black negligée lays in folds on her lap and clear-heeled stilettos rest on their sides at her feet.

She takes a pause from plucking her eyebrows, long enough to shake her head. She’s not much of a talker. But then again, most of us at The Mirage don’t talk much to each other. We come to work, do what we have to do. We return to our lives. We pretend we didn’t sleep with men we didn’t know.

“Oh, okay.” I drop my purse onto one of the six stools lining the long, cream dresser and pull out my makeup bag and wig. I fluff it out.

The door opens with a silent squeak. Jolene walks in. She’s thirty-nine and has thick wild, brown curls that make her face look tiny. Today, the lines around her eyes tell me she hasn’t slept much during the day.

“You okay, Jolene?”

She gives me a frosty look and sits next to Shana. “There’s nothing to be okay about.” She rubs her eyes, smudging her makeup. She turns to me with a somber expression. “Sorry, I get cranky when I’m tired. But that doesn’t give me permission to be a bitch.”

“It’s fine,” I say. “How’s your mother?”

“Same as always. My sister is watching her tonight.”

Shana and I listen for five minutes as she tells us about her difficult life of caring for her mother, who’s in the last stages of Alzheimer’s.

“Have you seen Hector, by any chance?” I ask when she’s done and I’ve sympathized with her situation. It’s eight and Hector is always at The Mirage no later than 5:00 p.m., an hour before the doors open, to ensure the cleaning lady, did a good job tidying the rooms.

“He said last night he’s having an anniversary dinner with the wife and he might be late.”

I’m always a bit freaked out when I think of Hector’s wife, wondering if she knows what he does. We’ve never seen her at The Mirage. From the photos he has shown us, she’s at least ten years younger than Hector, and the clothes and jewelry she wore pointed to her having an expensive taste. Maybe she doesn’t care what he does for a living, as long as he keeps the money coming. Or maybe she’s okay with his line of work. Either way, it’s none of my business.

“Does the pained look on your face have to do with what happened last night?” Jolene goes to open her locker.

I peel my gaze from her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you do. Everyone was talking about how you walked out on a white room client.”

Shana stops applying her makeup and watches me with wide eyes.

Hector was the only one who knew. Why would he tell the other ladies? What if he puts a target on my back?

Running a brush through my wig, I contemplate on how best to respond.

Jolene waits patiently as she unzips her linen dress and lets it fall to the floor. She’s naked underneath.

The silence in the room is deafening, broken only by the ticking clock and a car honking outside.

“I had my reasons for doing what I did,” I say.

“Well, we’re friends, aren’t we?” Jolene comes to sit next to me, now dressed in a pair of canary yellow panties and bra. “Why did you do it?”

“It’s someone I knew from high school.” What do I have to lose by being honest? We’re all in the same boat after all.

“Hell no.” She places a hand on her chest. “I’d have a heart attack if anyone I know finds out what I do.”

“Exactly.” My shoulders sink with relief.

“What a coincidence that he happened to show up when you were working. That you got him instead of someone else.”

“Yeah.” I twist to face the mirror, guilt gnawing at me. Hector said I was the best girl present that night. I can’t tell Jolene that, especially since she was one of the ladies working.

“Are you okay?” Shana asks and I gaze at her in surprise. She hardly talks to me and when she does, it’s always in monosyllables.

“I’m dealing with it.” I force a smile.

“Hopefully, he won’t return,” Jolene adds.

My chest tightens. “That’s what I’d hoped as well but apparently he wants us to finish what we started.” I bite my lower lip. “Or didn’t start.”

“Shit. That’s messed up.” Jolene squeezes lotion into the palm of her hand. “Well, give him what he wants, take his money, and tell him to butt out of your business.”

“That’s exactly what I intend to do.” If he manages to see through my disguise. Maybe I’m worrying about nothing. He might not even know it’s me.

“Damn. I’m late for Mr. Mercedes.” Jolene pulls a slinky stretch dress over her head, spritzes herself with her favorite rose water. She rushes out of the room.

Mr. Mercedes is one of Jolene’s regulars and, apparently, he can be quite demanding.

Shana leaves the dressing room right after Jolene. Just as she closes the door, it reopens. Hector walks in with a huge smile.

He’s wearing a gray suit jacket over blue jeans and an off-white shirt instead of the colorful Hawaiian ones he loves so much.

“You look nice.” I crack a smile. “Must be a special night.”

“I came from dinner with my wife. It’s our anniversary. Five years.”

“Congratulations. Looks like you had a good time.”

“I did. Thank you.” He pushes his hands into his pockets. “How are you doing, Brooke?”

“I’m okay.” I cross my legs and fold my hands in my lap. “I’m so sorry, Hector about what happened last night. I should have been more professional.”

“Water under the bridge.” He pulls money from his back pocket. “Here’s the money Mr. Black left for you.”

I frown as my fingers wrap around the three hundred dollars. “I still don’t get why he would pay me for something that didn’t happen?”

“That’s not payment. It’s a tip. Don’t pull the same crap next time.”

“I promise.” My chin hits my chest and I silently pray I won’t end up disappointing Hector again.

I unravel my fingers, extend my hand toward Hector. “I don’t think it’s right for me to take this. You have it. I let you down.”

“The man is swimming in cash if he’s willing to pay for a service that wasn’t offered. Take the money. Don’t pretend you don’t need it.”

“I do.” I nod and slide it into a side pocket of my purse. “What’s on schedule for me tonight? I didn’t see myself on the calendar.”

“That’s because you have several white room clients today and I didn’t want to make the others jealous.”

“But I messed up yesterday?” I had expected to be banned from the white room for a while.

“We all make mistakes. Over the past six months, you brought in the most money. Almost every client you’ve been with returns to The Mirage. And they ask for you. What am I supposed to do, send them elsewhere?”

“Thank you, Hector, for not sending me out the door.”

“I’m a businessman. If you leave, your regulars would stop coming.” He chuckles. “I can’t let that happen.”

I give a tiny smile but it’s hard to feel proud of what I do. “So, who do I have first?”

He clears his throat. “I’m sorry but for your next session you don’t only have one client. You have two.”

“Two?” A knot forms in the pit of my stomach.

“That’s right. Cousins.”

My fingers grip the hem of my skirt. During my entire time here, there were only two occasions where two different guys slept with me at the same time. It was the most disgusting thing I’d ever experienced. The thought of doing it again makes me want to throw up.

Hector’s forehead creases. “Are you okay about this?”

I nod. I can’t let him down two nights in a row. “Sure. I’ll do it.”

“Good.” He squeezes my shoulder. “This should more than make up for yesterday.”

After Hector tells me a little about the cousins, he leaves me to prepare myself. It’s a struggle to keep my hands from shaking as I apply my makeup and style my wig, but after a few deep breaths I lock away my emotions and leave the room to do what I’m paid for.