Donna noticed that there were only women walking by. Some were waitresses, others were cooks and the like, others mere hired general helpers, just as ...here would be at any fancy affair. Everyone was busy fetching drinks, food, organizing, cleaning.And there were women, Donna saw, walking around dressed much more inappropriately.A women who looked to be about Donna’s age passed by walking on plateau shoes, fishnet stockings, a very short skirt, busy buttoning some sort of corset, one that didn’t. Teller told her daughter. “I found Cassandra having a ... um ... nightmare sleeping on our couch last night. It was...”“Weird,” I said.“Oh, is that what had you up all night?” My friend grinned, her face a younger version of her mother’s. “She’s a scaredy-cat. She won’t see any horror films.”“I can’t handle the stress,” I said. “It’s not fun. I don’t get why you love them, Lana.”“Because they make me feel sooooo alive.” Lana darted to me. “Now we’re on cupcake duty. And then we have to go out. More

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