“Tina, why did Gloria move me up here to the Cabaret?” Sherri asked.

Tina’s expression grew dark, serious. She looked intently at the napkin she was folding while she spoke. “Because she needs someone to replace me.”

“Replace you? What are you talking about?”

Tina nodded, her chin quivering. “I gave my notice.”

“No!”

“People quit jobs all the time. It’s not a big deal.”

“But you can’t leave. You’re the reason I’m a Bunny. You love it here.”

“I do!” Tina gave up folding the napkin and instead expertly tucked it under her bottom eyelashes to catch her tear. “I really do. You and the other Bunnies, you’re like my family. I’m having the very best time.”

“So why are you leaving?”

“It’s my grandfather.”

“He’s sick?”

“Sick in the head is what he is! He’s horrible, one of those holy rollers. My brother told him that I’m working here, and now the old man thinks I’m a prostitute. He doesn’t listen to a word I say about all the security guards and the rules. I told him that this is a family resort, and it is, you know that. We play tiddlywinks with kids in the game room for crying out loud. I’ve even seen nuns have lunch here! He doesn’t listen. He says I’ll burn in hell.”

“Let him think what he wants. So what?”

“So what? He says he’ll cut me out of his will unless I quit. He means it, he really does.”

“So let him cut you out!” The speed made everything seem simple. Sherri didn’t have patience for problems. Much as she loved Tina, she was having a hard time sitting still and listening to what she had to say.

“You don’t understand. He’s loaded, Sherri. Ever heard of Schnitz Sausage?”

“The bratwurst? Who hasn’t?” Everyone in the state ate Schnitz. They’d partnered with Schlitz beer and made a commercial about soaking the brats in lager. The ad campaign included a tongue twister that got harder to say the more people drank: A Schnitz soaked in Schlitz is a scrumptious Schlitz Schnitz. Nobody could eat a Schnitz without trying to say that ten times fast.

Tina’s hands were shaking. “My brother would be happy to have it all: the house in Racine, a cottage on Green Lake, the condo in Sarasota.” Tina gazed out beyond the massive glass windows that overlooked the golf course. The golf balls were flying, and Nick, one of the caddies, stood with a pair of golf bags over his shoulders chatting amicably with an old guy in a yellow shirt and Bermuda shorts. “I figure I’ll have to leave sooner or later. I’m already twenty-three. That’s like fifty in Bunny years.” Tina grabbed a handful of forks and efficiently set them down next to the plates. “Look for water spots. Always wipe the silverware down. When I gave my two weeks, I insisted that you were the best Bunny to take over. I’ve always liked you. You work hard, and you’ve got such an amazing memory, everyone talks about how you could work as a spy. You’ll need a good memory to work here. You don’t have much time to get all the drinks before the show begins. You need to order them with the bartenders in just the right order, bam bam bam. It’s really hard, Sher. The money is good, and the shows are great, but you have to hustle.”