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‘Diamond.’ It was cut beautifully in long layers. The front had long bangs, feathered around the face. It was quite stunning. I’d been surprised to find out that it was human hair. It had to have cost the club a pretty penny.
    My own hair was a bit more of a blondish-brown. It fell almost to my shoulders. The hair in my wig fell way past my shoulders. I could wear it up in fancy hairstyles, with sexy tresses hanging down around my face to frame it in playful, wispy curls. Margo had styled it for me my first two nights dancing. She could work magic with everything having to do with hair, make-up and wardrobe. I loved her from the moment Janine introduced us.
    Margo was in her mid-thirties, too. She’d shared with me that she had danced until about five years ago. Her husband had made her quit once they got married. She had laughed when she told me that they’d actually met due to him being a regular at the club.
    “He used to leave me humungous tips,” she said. “He always came in on just the nights I danced. He discouraged any other dudes from tipping me. He kind of staked his claim right off the bat, I guess you could say. It really kind of pissed me off at first, then when I saw how sweet and kind he was, I was in love. I guess I should be thankful he doesn’t forbid me from doing the hair and make-up for the dancers.”
    Oh God, one of those…
    I then mentally smacked myself for thinking like that. After all, I’d pretty much let Jack define me for all of these years.
    “What does your husband do?” I asked, as she put the finishing touches on my hair with a generous sprinkling of glitter.
    “He manages the Harley shop downtown. He’s looking to buy into it because the current owner wants to spend more time at their vacation home in Denver during the summer. It’s fine by me. We just have to see how we can swing the financial part of it. There you are, Diamond. You look perfect, once again.”
    She twirled the chair back around so that I could see the finished product. She did excellent work. I didn’t recognize myself. Margo had, once again, successfully transformed me from plain old Samantha into the beautiful and mysterious ‘Diamond.’ I loved being someone else while I was at the club. Anyone other than who I really was would do.
    “You certainly work magic, Margo,” I said, pressing two twenty-dollar bills into her hand. “Thank you.”
    “No magic needed for you Diamond. You got the look going.”
    We were interrupted when a high-pitched, whiney voice demanded Margo’s attention. It was Garnet, the petite, red-haired dancer who worked the same shift as me.
    “Can you spare a few minutes to work on me, Margo?”
    Her tone was all about irritation. She gave me a quick glance, then mentally dismissed me. I wasn’t sure what I’d done to earn her dislike, but it was evident in her dismissive attitude towards me.
    “Sure, Garnet. Take a seat.”
    I left to finish dressing. My dance was coming up and the place was fairly packed. I wasn’t going to let Garnet’s whiney-ass attitude dampen my mood. My mood always seemed to escalate when I was dancing at the club. I loved it.
    The money was pretty damn good too. I’d been shocked when I counted my tips up after the first couple of nights I worked. I’d made a little over four hundred dollars my first night, and nearly six hundred my second one. After that, I pretty much averaged anywhere from five to seven hundred per night. Not too shabby for doing something that I absolutely loved doing.
    I heard my name being announced as next up on the dance floor. I moistened my lips, smoothed my sequined boy shorts into place, and checked that my garters were straight.
    Showtime.
    I’d finished my number and was headed back to the dressing room to change when Janine intercepted me.
    “Hey, got a customer that wants to buy you a drink, Diamond. He’s over at table six.”
    I still wasn’t totally comfortable with this part of the job. It wasn’t