Page 66 of Nanny and the Beast

It looks like a bomb went off inside the dressing room.

There's glitter on the countertops, wigs hanging from chairs, and sequin miniskirts on the floor.

"Is it just me, or does this look more chaotic than usual?" I ask, looking over at Gigi.

"It's definitely more chaotic than usual," she replies. "Mrs. Hendricks mentioned that the club is busier on the weekends, but this seems like a lot."

The twins join us. Ophelia is dressed in a bejeweled mesh top with nothing else underneath. She auditioned as one of the aerial silk dancers. She got the job immediately because she looks phenomenal on the silks. Her twin sister, Olivia, is working as a cocktail waitress.

"We missed you," Ophelia says, giving me a hug.

"I missed you guys, too," I reply.

"Something is different about you," she says, narrowing her eyes at me. "You're glowing."

"I just got hair and makeup done," I say, glancing over at myself in the mirror.

They use this glowy foundation that makes my skin look like it's made of millions of diamonds.

"No, no, it's not that," Ophelia says. "You have this glow that comes from within. Oh my God, are you pregnant?"

"What? No." Heat blooms on my cheeks.

"Now that you mention it, I see it too," Gigi says. "Youareglowing."

"I see it too," Olivia pipes up.

My jaw drops. I can't believe even Olivia is taking their side.

"Does it have something to do with the hot older man you're spending so much time with?" Ophelia grins from ear to ear.

Heat swallows me whole.

"You guys are insane," I say. "Nothing is going on between Mr. Sinclair and me."

"Yet," Gigi adds.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" I say.

"Very," she replies.

"She's blushing so hard," Olivia comments.

"Stop picking on me. This isn't funny," I say, turning away from them.

Just as I do, someone knocks into me. Pain bursts in my right shoulder. It's one of the staff girls. She has her eyes glued to her iPad, and she's speaking rapidly into her AirPods.

Gigi grabs the woman's wrist before she can walk away.

"Hey, you bumped into my friend. Aren't you going to apologize?"

The woman blinks and pulls out one of her earphones.

"I'm so sorry," she says, looking at me. "I was just preoccupied?—"

Her eyes drop down to the rose quartz pendant I'm wearing. Her eyes widen before they flick over my face, cataloging my features.

"You're perfect," she says.

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