She screws up her face in thought. “Don’t get me wrong, I love seeing Jane back at his full wattage. But I wonder if it’s smart for him to be so obvious.”

“He’s being brave!”

“Like I said, I love it, but . . . I dunno.” She rests an elbow against the bar. “Andrea’s still talking like Jane’s sealed the deal by hooking up with Charles. I swear, if she makes another ‘sugar daddy’ comment, I’m gonna scream.”

“She’s saying that to you, too?” I’d been hoping she’d at least keep that nonsense limited to me and Jane.

“So tacky of her, right? I thought the Brits were supposed to have better manners than us.”

“Nah. When they’re gross, it only sounds prettier.”

“Anyway, I would hate for Charles to get the wrong idea. Like, that Jane’s been aboard the sugar-daddy train this whole time, y’know?”

I nod.

“Ah!” Ming points past me. “Speak of the devil, here’s Thor.”

Charles is just inside the front door, cradling a bouquet of white roses. Spotting us, he smiles broadly and trots over. “Bennet, Ming, hey! Isn’t this place great?” He cranes his neck, looking over the room. “Jane already backstage?”

I nod, and we settle into conversation. Charles was here for one of Jane’s rehearsals, and he points out a few more intriguing details among the memorabilia.

“I met the owner, too. Super-nice guy,” says Charles. “He’s offered to walk me through some front-of-the-house stuff once the deal with Meryton goes through.”

Ming raises her eyebrows. “Either you’re feeling very optimistic, or Darlene’s brother didn’t explain the ‘Loose Lips Sink Ships’ poster by the bathroom.”

Charles smiles. “I figured word was out by now. But I also do think we have a real chance of picking up the property.” He crosses his fingers.

I cross mine, too. But as Charles shows Ming the bullet holes in the plane nose above us, my thoughts dim. He’s all in, clearly, but on the off chance the deal falls apart, or the owner decides to pass things off to that nephew, I wonder what will happen. Andrea said the guy would likely stick with the burlesque concept, but what if he didn’t?

The idea evokes an emptiness I haven’t felt in a long time. I’d be able to find a kitten gig with another show, but the dynamic of our group would be hard to maintain. It’s not as if we’d be able to up and move to another location; not everyone has a brother with a bar in Bushwick.