Can't Buy Me Love. HEATHER MACALLISTER
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for marriage that pays her one—hundred—thousand—dollars a year.”
More clapping erupted.
“In gold?” Miss Arlotta asked. She looked at Alexis. “Always make sure it’s in gold.”
Gold. Alexis just stopped herself from laughing. “That’s good advice,” she said, playing her role…of what, she didn’t exactly know.
“And that’s not all!” Sunshine clapped her hands together and gave a little jump. “She also gets the money she would have made if she’d been working.”
Madam Arlotta sat back. “Well, now that is impressive.”
“Maybe not so impressive.” Alexis was being eyed by a sour-faced woman who plucked at the ties around her corseted waist. “Depends on how much she made.”
“I’m very good at what I do,” Alexis said.
The woman sniffed. “Hidden talents. Tricks. They always pay more for pervers—”
“Flo.” The woman immediately went silent. “Alexis is our guest.” Miss Arlotta stood and Alexis could see she was small for a woman with such a big voice. “We want you to know that though years and circumstances separate us, we celebrate what one of our own has accomplished for working women everywhere.”
“I—thank you.” This was just too weird.
“My Got. She vas showered viz more riches zan a royal courtesan.”
“I thought you were a royal courtesan, Countess,” Sunshine said.
“Zat is how I know zis.” The woman shrugged the silk robe over her shoulders. “I consider you my equal.”
Her equal? “And you were a courtesan?”
The Countess inclined her head. “Zat is so.”
“Like…a mistress.”
“Yes.”
The skit wasn’t as fun as it had been. “I’m not going to be a mistress. I’m getting married.”
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