“I knew from first glance,” he says and I smile. “I know that face.”

“Me too, but that’s ’cause we know and love you so much,” Reese says with a loving grin.

“So what are you doing now?” Phillip asks.

“I’m waiting for the investors or Ms. Prissy or something. I’m ready to go. Jude should be back in town in a bit.”

He nods. “Okay, well, Reese is supertired, so we’re going to go. I’ll wait up to hear from you.”

I wave him off. “Don’t. I’ll call you guys in the morning.”

“Are you sure?” he asks uncertainly. “I don’t want to leave, but she’s about to pass out.”

“True, this baby is sucking my life away,” Reese says, but she doesn’t seem upset about it. “Don’t be mad.”

“Not at all. I don’t know how long this is going to be, so don’t worry about it. I’ll call y’all in the morning.”

“Okay,” Phillip says, kissing my forehead. “Good job tonight.”

“Thanks,” I say as Reese hugs me tightly.

I say bye, watching as they head out the back door before falling back in my seat to wait. Crossing my legs, I only have to wait a few more minutes before Ms. Prissy is coming around the corner with three men. All three are in expensive suits, all looking very important and serious from what I see as they walk behind Ms. Prissy to me. Today, surprisingly, Ms. Prissy is wearing a pantsuit, one that isn’t leather. Guess she really does want to impress. When she grins at me, I smile back as I stand.

“This is Diamond. She’s the choreographer of most of the numbers you saw today. She’s the one y’all want to see,” she says as she glances back at them. Looking back at me, she says, “Diamond, honey, these fine men are our guests for the night.”

With a bright grin, I say sweetly, “Nice to meet y’all.”

Two of the men smile, but I can’t see the third. When he does step into the light, time stops.

“Diamond, this is Don Jackson from Vegas, Bruce Phillips from Florida, and Mark Sinclair from New York.”

Oh. My. God.

Mark Sinclair.

Jude’s dad.

I stand there as the three men look me over, all with smiles on their faces, and when Mr. Sinclair’s eyes linger on my naughty bits, my stomach churns with disgust. When his eyes meet mine, I look away but feel his gaze on me as I say, “Thank you for coming out. I hope you enjoyed the show.”

I try to make my voice higher. I’m not sure if he remembers how I talk, but just in case, I make sure to alter it even more.

“I did, very much,” Don says with a nod. “So much so that I want to offer you the opportunity of your life.”

“Really?” I ask, my heart speeding up. I’m not sure if it’s from the excitement of Don’s deal or if it’s from the fact that Mr. Sinclair has not stopped staring at me.

“Let’s go into my office,” Ms. Prissy suggests.

The next thing I know, I’m sitting behind Ms. Prissy’s desk with the three men in front of me. Mr. Sinclair’s eyes have yet to leave my face, and my palms are clammy from the nerves. As much as I want to know what these men have to offer, I want to get the hell out of here. I thought Mr. Sinclair was a lawyer; why the hell is he doing investor shit? Does Jude know? Does anyone know?

“I’ll go first,” Mr. Sinclair says, and I force myself to look him in the eyes. Surely he doesn’t recognize me, but I can see him trying to place me in his mind. His eyes roam over each of my features as he says, “I think you’ve heard my deal, twenty-grand signing bonus, with an annual contract of seventy-five grand, and full management of Ms. Prissy’s in New York.”

When Bruce scoffs, Mr. Sinclair shoots him a dark look, but that doesn’t derail him. Looking at me, Bruce says, “We want to sign you for three years, fifty-thousand dollar signing bonus, a hundred-grand yearly contract, and free rein at the Ms. Prissy’s in Miami. We will give you lodging, a new car, and a clothing budget. You will be treated like the queen you are, Ms. Diamond.”

Holy mother of God. I knew the New York deal was going to be crap, but I never expected the Florida deal to be so amazing.

My lips go to form the word yes, but before they can, Don says, “Ms. Diamond – by the way, is that your real name?”

“No, it–” Ms. Prissy goes to say, but I interrupt her.

“No, but I’d like to keep my real name to myself until we sign contracts,” I say quickly, and I can feel Ms. Prissy’s eyes on me. Ignoring her, I add, “If you don’t mind.”

“That’s fine with me,” he says with a grin. He’s a good-looking man, young, late twenties, with short blond hair and blue eyes that shine bright in the dim light. “I can guarantee the deal I have for you will be ten times what these two are offering you. I don’t want you to run a Ms. Prissy’s, no offense,” he says to Ms. Prissy before looking back at me. “But I want you for your own show. I work for Lights and Sounds Hotels, and we want you to headline a show for us.”

“I’m not performing after tonight. I want to be strictly backstage.”

He nods, not missing a beat. “That’s fine and I can promise you that the deal I’ll have for you is something you can’t turn down. The only problem is I can’t offer you the deal without my bosses. We’ve heard of you. I’ve sent them video of your work here, and they want to see it for themselves. They can come in ten days, and we’re hoping instead of signing with someone else, you’ll put on a showcase for us and give us a chance.”

For some reason, I feel good about this guy.

“My deal will be on the table for five days,” Bruce says suddenly.

I meet his gaze and say, “I’d like to wait to see what they offer me.”

“I can’t wait that long,” Bruce says and then he stands. “So I’ll bow out of this pissing match. Good luck to you.”

“Thank you,” I say and then he’s gone.

“So I guess I’m out too. I can’t wait two weeks,” Mr. Sinclair says and then he stands. “Good luck to you both.”

I don’t say anything to him, and when he leaves, I let out the breath I’ve been holding, meeting Don’s gaze as he says, “I promise you won’t regret this.”