She pretended not to notice the outline of his wedding ring in his shirt pocket, visible when he took off his suit coat. “Listen,” he said, tapping his nose. “Want to go up to my room? I’ve got blow.” He put his sweaty hand on her back.

“Yeah, sure. One minute,” she said, excusing herself, saying she had to go to the bathroom. A month earlier she might have taken him up on his offer, but something was changing in her. She slipped away, returned to her car, and drove back to the Playboy Club. All the lights of the city twinkled. She found a parking spot a few blocks away, reached into the glove compartment, and grabbed the bunny tail that she’d taken with her the last time she worked. She walked down the dirty sidewalk and passed everyone in line. When the bouncer tried to stop her, she held up the tail, smiled sweetly, and said, “Oh honey, I work here. I’m Bunny Sherri.” She dipped and smiled, and he raised the velvet cord, waving her through.

The lobby was crowded and elegant, with a swirling staircase that reminded her of her old Barbie Dreamhouse. She stopped when she saw a Bunny in a green outfit.

“Can you help me find Bunny Tina?”

“Tina?” She looked confused. There were so many Bunnies at that club. It was nothing like the resort where everyone knew each other and most of them lived together in a dorm. Sherri had always had a sixth sense about who was working which shifts and where. Here, this was just a job. The Bunnies were employees.

“She’s tall, blond,” Sherri said.

“You just described all of us.”

“Tina Schnitz,” Sherri said, knowing how ludicrous it was for her to say her last name. “She’s from Wisconsin. Maybe she goes by Mary?”

“Wisconsin? Oh wait, I think I know who you mean. But I don’t know if she’s here tonight.”

“If you see her, could you tell her that Bunny Sherri is looking for her?” That name didn’t feel like it belonged to her anymore. “Can you take me to the Bunny Mother?”

The Bunny seemed irritated, rushed. “Follow me,” she said. She was a million times more glamorous than any of the girls in Lake Geneva. She had the sort of confidence you only got when you had to exercise it a million times. She pushed open a service door and pointed up a flight of stairs. “Evelyn’s office is the second door on the right.”

Evelyn: such a pretty name. Elegant. “Is she nice?”

“Nice?” The Bunny shook her head and walked away.

Evelyn’s amber hair was pulled back into a tight updo. She wore a fitted boiled-wool suit. “Can I help you, dear?”

Sherri hadn’t worn heels in a while, and her ankles felt like they might crack. “I’m Bunny Sherri,” she said. “I’d love to work here.”