CHAPTER SEVEN
Well, she thought as the black band closed out its last set for the evening, that was how it had all begun. If she had learned anything, it was that life—all of it—was merely a full-time acting job. The role might change, but only gradually and over a period of time. The bard Shakespeare had said that the world was a stage....
James Baker had noticed her, sitting there alone at the little round table, refusing all offers to step out onto the tiny dance floor in favor of sitting with wide eyes focused upon the black bandleader. She sat with her legs wide apart at the ankles, her knees locked tightly together, in a carefully posed signal as to why she was there. Her short skirt was flipped back to the very tops of her pantyhose, up where they became a darker color, and eve
