Naked Angel by Logan Belle

wisely knowing the question was rhetorical, said nothing. “But what if you have to change something about yourself for the marriage?”
    “Marriage is all about compromise.”
    “Alec wants me to phase out of performing. He just admitted to me that it bothers him to see me taking off my clothes like that.”
    “It’s good he told you.”
    “You think this is reasonable?”
    Agnes put down her sewing and looked at Mallory. Her eyelids sagged so much Mallory wondered if the folds obscured her vision. She resisted the urge to touch her own eyelids to see if they were beginning to lose the battle with gravity.
    “There is no right and wrong. How long do you think you will want to keep performing?”
    Mallory shrugged. “I don’t know. A few more years, maybe.”
    “And how much longer do you think you will want to be with Alec?”
    “A lot longer than that, obviously.”
    “Compromise,” Agnes repeated.
    Mallory heard Nadia climbing back up the stairs. At least, she hoped it was Nadia, and not Gemma, who had overheard her personal conversation. The woman was clearly talented, but there was something about her Mallory didn’t quite trust.
    “Sorry about that.” It was, in fact, Nadia, who appeared at the top of the stairs looking rather flushed, either from the flight of stairs or the phone call. Mallory hoped for Nadia it was the phone call. The woman needed to loosen up a bit. “Mallory, I have to get going.”
    “Everything okay?” Mallory said.
    “Yes—it was just . . . a ballet choreographer who saw the show last night. He wants to talk to me. I don’t know why but I agreed to meet him for coffee.”
    “Okay—can’t hurt. I have to get going, too. I’m meeting some friends for an early lunch on the Upper East Side so I’ll walk you out. Thanks again, Agnes. I’m going to come by next week to talk about the burlesque convention, okay?”
    The annual Las Vegas Burlesque Festival was one of the biggest burlesque events in the country, second only to the Burlesque Hall of Fame Weekend. While the Vegas Burlesque Festival was less rooted in the rich history of burlesque, it had a more tangible effect on the world of burlesque: The festival was the brainchild of a film studio scion named Marty Bandinow. The culmination of the festival was a competition that awarded the winning troupe twenty thousand dollars, a feature in a national magazine, and, one year, a walk-on role on a primetime television show. Agnes had never wanted “her” girls to participate—she felt it was an unnecessary distraction and was philosophically against pitting dancers against one another for such high financial stakes.
    “My girls do not put on a dog and pony show. This is burlesque, not the circus,” she’d said.
    But now that Mallory and Alec were running their own club, it was their decision to make. And they wanted to compete and make a name for themselves. Since costumes were an important criteria to be judged, they were hoping Agnes would agree to help them.
    “I’m working on a theme, so maybe next Monday I can come by and we can discuss some ideas.”
    “I can’t think about it now,” Agnes said. “Check my calendar with Gemma and have her schedule a day for you to come back.”
    Mallory was disappointed by Agnes’s lukewarm response, but not entirely surprised, given how she felt about burlesque competitions.
    On the first floor, they found Gemma accepting a delivery. Mallory and Nadia both recognized the unmistakable robin’s egg blue box of Tiffany’s.
    As soon as Gemma realized she wasn’t alone, she stuffed the box in her handbag.
    “Secret admirer?” Mallory joked. Gemma glared at her. Okay, not one for humor.
Note to self: Stick to business with the cranky Brit
.
    “I’m going to run. I’ll call you later,” Nadia said, halfway out the door.
    Why was everyone so uptight today?
    Mallory turned back to Gemma, who was furiously texting.
    “Agnes told me you are handling her calendar? I need to