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for your big day with Mama. She really seems to like you, you know. She’s not like that with everyone.”
    “She’s very kind,” I said, trying to hide my frustration with Cocoa. How could she lead me on, implying that something that was wrong with the nightclub without telling me what it was?
    Cocoa pulled some clothes out of her dresser and handed them to me.
    “I bet a shower will make you feel nice,” she said.
    The idea of another shower made me forget all about finding out what Cocoa had been talking about. Another shower sounded downright decadent.
    I grabbed the bucket of toiletries and raced across the hall to the bathroom.
    The place was empty. I kind of expected some of the girls to be up, but it was as quiet as a tomb. I enjoyed my shower in peace, massaging my scalp until it tingled. The cigarette burn scars dotting my body were fading with each day that passed. I looked forward to the day when my skin would be completely unblemished, but part of me knew I’d bear these marks for the rest of my life.
    After I got dressed and toweled my hair until it was damp, I crossed back into Cocoa’s room.
    “Where is everyone?” I asked.
    “It’s early, Jazz,” Cocoa answered, punctuating her response with a wide yawn. “The nightclub doesn’t close until 4 in the morning, and then we clean up. It’s normal to stay up until 6 a.m. or later.”
    My eyes nearly popped out of my head. “That’s late!”
    My roommate nodded in agreement. “And that means most of us don’t wake up until 2 or 3 in the afternoon,” she told me. “At 6, we start getting things ready to open again. The nightclub opens at 8.”
    I absorbed all this information as I combed my hair. It sounded like it was easy to get completely consumed by work here. I imagined many girls would go to bed late and wake up late, only having time to get themselves and the club cleaned up each day.
    “You ready to go?” Cocoa asked. She shrugged on a silky kimono over her camisole and shorts. “I’ll take you downstairs to Mama. She’ll probably be in the office.”
    We tiptoed past closed doors in the hallway and down the stairs. The nightclub looked out of place when illuminated by sunlight trying to work its way through the tinted windows.
    I hadn’t heard any of the music or activity down here during my sleep last night. I must have been out cold.
    “The office is right through that door,” Cocoa said, pointing to the right of the kitchen. “I’m going to go back upstairs and try to take a little nap. I’ll see you later.”
    “See you,” I echoed.
    I walked over to the office and knocked gently. There were sounds of rustling and movement, but no call to enter. I waited a few moments before pushing the door open.
    Mama was kneeling in front of an open safe, placing a few stacks of money next to many, many stacks of money. The inside of that safe looked like what I imagined the inside of a bank looked like. How much money could be in there?
    “Jesus save me!” Mama exclaimed, making me jump. “You nearly scared me to death, Jazz!”
    “I’m sorry,” I blurted out as she snapped the safe shut and spun the dial. “I knocked but no one answered.”
    “I’m a little deaf, sweetie,” Mama said, pointing at her ears. “I blame it on my career in entertainment. You got to practically beat that door down for me to hear it.”
    “Okay.”
    Mama was dressed a little more low key than last night, but she still looked very fine. The high waist on her trousers and the way her satin blouse was tucked into them accentuated her impressive curves. She looked like all kinds of woman—more than most men could handle, I’d bet.
    “You ready to do a little shopping?” Mama asked, rubbing her hands together. I realized shopping was probably one of her favorite things.
    “I sure am,” I said, smiling.
    When we came back, I had a manicure, a new haircut, two pairs of jeans, no less than ten shirts, a new coat, my own toiletries, and two work