Guess Who!

The hostess club was dark and romantic, security was tight, and customers who entered initially appeared bored until they settled in and looked around them. Their mood brightened considerably when the tall, blonde, and striking women circled the room with trays of drinks and food in hand looking more like supermodels than waitresses.

No shock there.

Natalie stifled a tired sigh as she deepened the red hue of her lipstick in the performers' dressing room. In the background, Kevin had one earbud in, rehearsing on his guitar for what seemed like the umpteenth time today.

While he didn't even have to change out of the clothes he arrived in, she had to put on a black cocktail dress that clung to her like a second skin.

Why is life so much simpler for men?

Despite finding no evidence of the place being a sex club and encountering only friendly faces, singing in a hostess club for the first time in her career was starting to fray Natalie's nerves. Her chest tightened as she stared at her reflection for an extended moment.

You don't belong here...

The Kashmir of her borrowed dress shimmered beneath her one-sided brown braid, and her look would have been acceptable if it weren't for the chest part tailored for a woman two bra sizes smaller than hers. She hated wearing something that exposed so much cleavage and almost never did—especially not on stage where she wanted people to focus on her voice rather than her skin.

She draped a scarf over her cleavage. "I'm heading out for some fresh air, Kev."

"Now?" Kevin squeaked, hastily removing his earbud which fell onto the sofa beside him.

Natalie shot him a deadly look that made him raise both hands in surrender. She then grabbed her untouched food bag deciding that some extra calories were much needed to calm her nerves right about now.

"I won't be long."

With a banana and diet yogurt in hand, she exited the dressing room and made her way to the back door. The cold breeze that met her was refreshing at times like this, but her relieved expression quickly turned to one of confusion.

"…Is somebody there?" She asked.

Below the stairs and close to the large trash bin but still distant from the long line of Ubers, there stood the silhouette of a petite person. Even from a distance, Natali quickly identified her as a woman.

What is she doing?

The woman's back heaved up and down as if she were struggling to breathe. She looked as if she was holding herself tightly. As though she were crying desperately or on the verge of vomiting.

Natalie rushed over to her taking the stairs two steps at a time and then striding the rest of the distance between them.

"Hey, hey, calm down!" she said with her hands hovering over the bent-down girl's shoulders.

When the girl lifted her head, Natalie noticed her dilated pupils immediately. It wasn't tears or nausea; she was clearly having a panic attack, a condition Natalie recognized easily having witnessed her uncle experience plenty of similar attacks on the days he managed to stay sober.

The banana and yogurt fell to the ground as Natalie flipped her paper bag upside down to empty it. She then handed the empty bag to the distressed girl.

"Take deep breaths through the bag; it will help you. All right? Deep breaths now."

The girl nodded, taking the paper bag from Natalie and inhaling deeply through it. Natalie watched as it filled and emptied in sync with her own controlled breathing while she encouraged the girl to get through the crisis. The process lasted for a few more minutes until the girl finally calmed down.

"Natalie! We're up next!"

When Kevin's shout came from behind the closed back door of the club, Natalie's eyes briefly paused there before darting back to the girl who wore a weak smile beneath a sweaty forehead.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes," the girl breathed out.

Natalie bent down to pick up what she assumed to be the girl's glasses as well as the banana and yogurt. She handed all three items back to the girl.

"Have something to eat, okay?" Natalie said with a soft tone.

"Natalie! Where the heck are you!" Kevin's urgent shout echoed.

"I must go; I am so sorry!"

"Oh, no… thank you… Ms."

"NATALIE!" Kevin's voice bellowed from within.

A startled Natalie quickly retraced her steps taking the stairs two at a time. She arrived just as a flushed Kevin opened the back door and scowled down at her.

"I'm sorry, Kev!"

"Shh! Focus on giving it your best now!"

Kevin ushered Natalie to the backstage where the manager needed to approve her final style. It didn't take long for the man who looked less than pleased with Natalie's delayed arrival to nod in approval.

"Good luck, Kev!" she whispered, watching her best friend walk onto the stage with his guitar in hand and then sit down quietly in the back where the shadow was.

Taking a few calming breaths, she held the last one and stepped into the world of not-so-bored men and hot blonde women who carried trays from table to table. Her eyes darted up to the huge projector positioned right over her head then turned away from the blinding light. Focusing on the microphone that was already adjusted to her height, she sat down and swallowed her nerves.

You can do it; it's $4,000. Just give it your best.

Her eyes scanned the room searching for a welcoming face that would make her comfortable and landed on the center table where she was surprised to recognize someone sitting there.

Miss panic attack?

The girl who smiled at Natalie wasn't alone. On her right sat an extremely thin, obnoxious-looking man whose eyes followed the sway of the waitresses' butts as they walked around the tables, and on his right sat a man with salt-and-pepper hair.

...Mr. Moneybags?

Was the girl who suffered from a panic attack earlier the older man's trophy wife? And was the cake Natalie paid for that morning intended for the girl? Something about all that just didn't click right.

When the man with gray hair smiled at Natalie knowingly, butterflies attacked her stomach.