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going to be there,” she said on the brink of tears, picking at her nails. “They are going to huddle together and laugh at me.”
    “Then don’t go.”
    She shook her head. “If I did that, they would know I was hiding. I have no friends here any more. If I go alone, I’ll just sit there with one—”
    “You’re beautiful! Don’t you have a guy you can call? Someone…anyone.”
    She shook her head. “I’ve burned a lot of bridges. Besides if I brought a guy, they’d either try to steal him away or talk about me until he distanced himself from me.”
    What was this? The adult version of Mean Girls?
    “Whoever these people are, they aren’t worth it.”
    “Yes, they are!” she snapped. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to come off as offensive because I really do need your help, nor do I want to insult you, but you just don’t get it. Yes, these women are catty bitches. No, I don’t want to be their friends, but they are the daughters of senators, bankers, moguls, and a lot of important people who can make life harder than it needs to be. I would rather be in the room being ignored than out in the cold. It’s just the way it is. I’ll pay you personally for the overtime.”
    I wanted to cry, stomp my feet, or do anything to get out of this, but I was weak-willed when it came to people who needed help. Even though this was the dumbest, most annoying and elitist type of ‘help’, I could remember her sobbing at her party.
    “Why me?”
    “You’re hot—not hotter than me, but if I go there with a beautiful new bestie no one knows and laugh my ass off at our twisted jokes, then they’ll see I don’t care and I can make friends. You wouldn’t happen to know French would you?”
    “I do.”
    Oh my God! She grabbed on to my shoulders, jumping around. “This is fate!”
    If fate was a stripper named Dominique, yeah maybe. I loved learning. It was my way of overcompensating for never getting to go to college. Dominique spoke it all the time and the men poured out their wallets for her. I said a few words and got better tips. ‘A’ plus ‘B’ equaled me learning French; anything to make an extra dollar. Allen then marketed the Bunny Rabbit as the only exotic strip club in the city with a full-on French burlesque night.
    That was about my only talent, though.
    “Jane?”
    “What?”
    “You’re going to be my exotic French friend. We need to come up with a name—”
    “Jane,” I said.
    She frowned. “What?”
    “I don’t change my name for anyone. Jane. Besides, are you sure you want to get caught in a lie later?”
    “You really are no fun.”
    “Great, you can take someone else.” I moved toward the door but she grabbed my arm.
    “Fine, but at least speak in French, please?”
    How? How in the hell do I get myself into this shit all the time?!
    “Okay.”
    “You might want to take a shower since you smell like bleach.” She wrinkled her nose and backed away. I could only stare in shock.
    So apparently I had two talents: languages and getting myself in the most unpredictable and ridiculous situations known to man.
     

     
    “How is it possible you look better than me?” she pouted when I stepped into her room. I wasn’t sure how to answer that because I wasn’t sure if she was trying to insult or compliment me…maybe both.
    Turning back to my reflection in her mirror, I still could not believe it was me. I wore light makeup like always, but Irene had added some light, smoky eye shadow and it had made a big difference. My auburn hair was curled at the ends and was parted to one side to expose my neck. It stopped at the side of my breasts, the mounds of which you could perfectly see because of the sweetheart of the shape of the dress. Irene had also offered me a diamond bracelet to wear, but I couldn’t bring myself to take it. First because I was scared I’d lose it and have to sell her my soul, and second because it was too much. She instead suggested I wear some diamond earrings,