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uniforms.
    “Now, it’s up to you to keep these clean,” Mama said as we re-entered the nightclub. “I like for all my girls to look sharp when they’re working—even when they’re not. Remember that you represent my nightclub, my place of business. And you look especially sharp in clothes your own size.”
    Standing in front of the dressing room mirror, Mama had hooted and hollered when she got me to open a couple of buttons of the uniform blouse. It had also helped that I was wearing a brand new bra.
    “Let’s put your things in the office for now,” Mama said. “You can take them up later, after I’ve shown you around and talked about work.”
    I was excited to show Cocoa my purchases and even more eager to return all of her clothes to her. I felt like my new possessions made me belong here. Mama had bought them and given me a place to live. I’d do anything for her now.
    She almost felt like family—that idea that had eluded me for so long.
    “You know the kitchen, of course,” Mama said, pushing open the swinging door. “When customers ask for food, you write it down on your pad and stick it here for the cooks.”
    She pointed at an expanse of stainless steel with a special groove to hold the papers.
    “Come back in here and check on the orders as often as you can,” Mama continued. “If another girl’s orders are up, take them to her table. Everyone helps everyone.”
    “Everyone helps everyone,” I repeated. I liked that.
    “Now, when you’re not working, this kitchen is yours to use,” Mama said. “Don’t interfere with the chefs and don’t eat the restaurant food. There’s plenty of food for everyone in the other fridge.”
    I remembered this from earlier and nodded.
    “Everyone sort of trickles down here when they want and fixes their meals, but some girls like to cook and eat together,” she explained. Mama opened the refrigerator door and my eyes feasted upon all the stacks of cheese, lunchmeat, veggies, fruits, and more. It was everything I could imagine.
    “If you want to keep something of your own, I’d recommend getting a mini fridge,” she said. “I think Cocoa may have one. You can always put your name on something and stick it in here, but don’t be surprised if it goes missing.”
    What would be the first food item I would buy? Ice cream, I decided swiftly, then pizza. Those were what I wanted the most, and in that order.
    “You’re going to be working as both a waitress and part of the service crew,” Mama said. “Most everyone here does the same thing. Sometimes girls pull hostess duties, but I usually take care of that myself. Adds a personal touch. Waitress means you wait on the customers and bring them everything they want. Service crew means you clean up after them and prepare before them.”
    I thought of entering the nightclub last night and seeing all the girls preparing the tables. That would be me tonight—and hopefully for many nights to come.
    “As for pay,” Mama began, “it all depends on you. The time you work, the time you’re out in the club cleaning or waiting or bussing, that belongs to me. That’s your room and board.”
    I nodded. That sounded reasonable.
    “The tips, on the other hand, we split. At the end of every night, you’ll give me 10 percent of what you earned tip-wise. That’s for operating costs.”
    Ten percent wasn’t bad, I mused silently. I bet I could make some real money with tips if I turned on the charm. I was already starting to believe Mama and Cocoa when they told me I was a beauty.
    “What do the girls spend their money on?” I wondered aloud.
    Mama shrugged, pulling a bottle of water from the fridge and handing it to me. The perpetual readiness of food and water was still a little foreign to me.
    “The normal things, I guess,” she answered. “Clothes, makeup, shoes, treats, decorations for their rooms, magazines, anything, really.”
    “And how many days do I work?”
    “That’s also up to you,” Mama