Lena
I was halfway through changing when Marcus, the manager, stuck his head into the dressing room.
“Candy,” he called. “You almost fell flat on your face… again.” He said the last word with a straight face.
“But I didn’t,” I replied with a toothy grin.
He narrowed his eyes at me, then broke into a wide smile. “You’ve got a request.”
I frowned. “What kind of request?”
“The expensive kind.” He waved a glossy black card at me. “VVIP suite. The guy’s already paid the full amount upfront. Said it’s for you. Your name’s on the ticket.”
I froze. “I don’t do private sessions, Marcus. You know that.”
He shrugged. “I told him that. He didn’t care, still paid.” His brows furrowed. “With a very fat tip, too.”
Maya looked up from her mirror, her lipstick half-done. “Who’s the guy?”
Marcus s
