Chapter Four. Backstage in the dressing room shared by all the performers, Jasmine sat before a light-encircled mirror at a long table running along the entire length of

BACKSTAGE IN THE dressing room shared by all the performers, Jasmine sat before a light-encircled mirror at a long table running along the entire length of one wall. She finished applying the last touches of mascara and reached for the lip-gloss to seal the dark crimson shade she had chosen. Carefully, she used a fine brush to shade the edges of her upper lip, and then checked to see that any hint of shadow along her jaw line had been obliterated with a light foundation. She looked up as the door to the dressing room opened, and one of the other performers entered. The statuesque brunette in the form fitting red dress eased into the adjoining chair and studied her reflection in the mirror. After assuring herself that everything was in order, she swiveled to face Jasmine.

" You should get a load of Sloan's date, " she remarked too casually.

Jasmine turned, arching an eyebrow in surprise. " Oh really? Sloan never said anything about bringing someone."

" Well, she's at her usual table, and she's got a gorgeous blond with her."

" Blond, as in natural? " Jasmine repeated, feeling a faint stirring of anxiety. " As in perfect size 6? As in Ingrid Bergman elegant and Sharon Stone sexy? That type of blond? "

Crystal stood, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles in her dress, looking into the mirror again as she made a subtle adjustment to the very expensive body-sculpting brassiere she wore and squeezing her lips together in a slight kissing motion. " That would be the one."

Jasmine closed her eyes briefly, then muttered, " Oh fuck."

" Problems with the randy boss again? "

Jasmine reached for the black sheath dress, lowered it over her head and smoothed it down her body, reminding herself that it was not her problem, and none of her business. " Sloan's okay, " she remarked at length. " I just wish she'd settle down with someone."

She carefully fitted the expensive wig over the thin skullcap that contained her own blond hair. Better for business, better for my nerves, better for her. Especially for her.

Crystal laughed. " Sloan? Oh, I don't think so. Honey, that one is not the marrying kind."

Jasmine followed Crystal out of the small harshly lit dressing room toward the shadows at the edges of the curtained stage. She knew better, but it was not her story to tell.

Michael edged her chair closer to the small circular table, trying to avoid being jostled by the bustling wait people and harried latecomers, glancing surreptitiously around the room. It was crowded and noisy. The patrons displayed such a contagious exuberance that it made her smile. It was a party-like atmosphere and she felt herself relaxing despite the strangeness.

" Drink? " Sloan shouted, leaning near, steadying the teetering pedestal tabletop with one hand. She settled a plate of surprisingly good-looking sandwiches in the center of the tiny tabletop.

" Wine? " Michael shouted back. Whatever the capacity of the club, she was certain that they had exceeded it by a wide margin. If the fire marshal happened in, they’d all be out in the street.

Sloan pulled a face. " I wouldn't chance it here. It's most likely something that comes with a screw cap in a gallon jug."

" Vodka tonic? "

Sloan nodded. " Safer, " she called as she moved off into the crowd.

Michael watched her wend her way effortlessly through the throng of shouting, jostling people. She moved gracefully, with a subtle air of confidence that suggested she was used to others stepping aside for her. Alone, without Sloan's charismatic presence to distract her, Michael had to wonder at herself. She didn't know this woman, had never been in any place remotely like this before, and worried that she would say something to embarrass herself. Despite her anxiety, she also felt a surge of excitement. She hadn't been away from the office for anything other than business trips in months. This was as far from her usual routines as she could get, and just the diversion she needed.

" Hi, I'm Sarah, " a slender redhead in soft, tan chinos and a white cotton turtleneck announced as she pulled a chair over to the already crowded table. At the look of perplexity on Michael's face she added, " I'm a friend of Sloan's."

Michael held out her hand. " Michael Lassiter."

Sarah regarded her carefully for a moment, noting the perfectly styled hair, understated but flawless make-up, and the suit so expensively tailored that it looked casual. " If you're a drag queen, you're the best I've ever seen."

Michael stared, struggling for a reply that would be remotely appropriate.

" Ms. Lassiter is a business associate, Sarah, " Sloan said smoothly as she wedged herself into the remaining chair at the cramped table, depositing Michael's drink and her own. Looking at Michael, she tried to hide her amusement. The beautiful face showed faint signs of numb shock. " Sarah is a doctor of oriental medicine, Michael."

That might explain the slight fragrance of spices that clung to her, and the quiet contained expression on her smooth, even features that Michael found oddly companionable. It didn't explain why she was there, or how she knew Sloan, but then why should anything about this experience make sense. " I see."

Sarah laughed, and laid her hand briefly on Michael's arm. " Sloan never has gotten over being cryptic, even when she doesn't have to be. We met ages ago when we both did a stint in Thailand. I ended up staying behind and studying there. We've just recently reconnected since I got back to the States."

Michael nodded, as if that cleared everything up. She saw the look of discomfort pass over Sloan's features, darkening her gaze for a moment. She didn't ask for clarification.

" Then she invited me to see Jasmine perform, and now I hate to miss one of her shows, " Sarah continued as if oblivious to Sloan's glowering expression. " Have you ever seen her? "

" No, " Michael answered, seeing no point in adding that she had never in her life seen so many women who might not be women, and how did one tell any way? Mercifully, the lights went down signaling the beginning of the show, sparing her from any further response.

And then she was too engrossed to talk.