Sherri waited in the fancy hallway and looked at all the framed photos on the wall, including lots of pictures of Danny as a little kid with his brothers and sisters and cousins, all of them healthy, robust, and blond and seemingly always looking into the sun, because they squinted at the camera. There was Danny as a little boy in a life vest sitting on the end of the dock, Danny fishing with his grandfather on a rowboat, Danny’s senior portrait, Danny in a suit, standing between what must have been his grandmother and mother. Sherri didn’t even have a family anymore; she was jealous of his cottage life, jealous of all of his lake memories.

On the ride back to the resort, Sherri was so nauseous she could hardly speak. Her head spun. Val had to pull over so Sherri could barf on the side of the road into a pile of snow.

“Look,” Val said. A bit of fear crept into her voice. “Don’t you dare say anything to anyone about me and Danny. Not a word.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

“I mean it. If Curtis finds out, God knows what he’d do. He walks around with an X-Acto knife in his pocket.”

“Why don’t you just break up with him?”

Val lit a cigarette and took a deep drag. “Because, Sherri, Curtis is forever. Danny is just for now.”

At work, Gloria eyed Sherri so critically she was surprised she let her walk out onto the floor. She could hardly even talk to her customers, grinning through her hangover as she set Cuba Libres in front of them, swearing to herself that she’d never, ever drink or have sex again. The resort was busy because Olympic skier Billy Kidd was there to give demos, and everyone gawked at him in his cowboy hat and ski vest.

When Sherri saw Frank they exchanged knowing glances, but that was all, which was a relief, even if it made Sherri feel cheap. She imagined him keeping a spreadsheet with all the new Bunnies’ names and little check marks after them. Bunny Sherri: check!

At the end of her shift, she leaned against Carmen in the locker room. “I’m so damn tired.”

“Sorry baby duck, but I’ve got you beat. I had to take my brother to the doctor yesterday, work an afternoon shift here, and then I got called to the Shack because one of the girls didn’t show. My hips hurt from all those lap dances.”

“What’s it like to, you know, to do that?” Sherri didn’t want to sound like she was passing judgment, but in truth, she was. She cared too much about what people thought of her to work at a strip club.