Hours later, Lee had his turn in wardrobe. He had already slicked his hair back, and now just needed a different jacket and shoes to look as if he was a guy ready to paint the town red. Heading back into his own size section, he grinned at finding a dark plum velvet sports coat and a pair of black and white wingtip shoes.
"A little flashier than you usually go for," Billy observed.
"It's a flashy place according to Francine," Lee answered undoing his tie.
"True. Nice touch with the flowers."
"T.P.'s idea for the bouquet, I'm just glad it put a real smile on her face."
"So, what's the plan?"
"Well, I'll be sitting third row center stage, and my contacts in a triangle around me. We've reserved the tables, and when Amanda goes to collect her tips, they'll stick the USBs into their wads of cash. She'll put them in some part of the costume and leave it with Francine. Francine said they have a camera and lighting system to put the UN to shame, but she's been texting with Amanda all day and they've assured me that thanks to a tech whiz Amanda used to babysit, the lighting will block out mine and the contacts' faces."
"Sounds like she's far more connected to this club than she let on this morning," Billy mused. 'I won't tell him what Francine told me in her reports.'
"The only thing I got was that she had some stories for me the next time we went to Monk's," Lee replied as he tied his shoes. "That, and she really wants to keep the shoes from her costume, but they cost six weeks salary."
Billy laughed. "I keep waiting for the day she'll ask me for a clothing budget and a larger expense account, now that she's officially in training, but she hasn't yet."
"She won't either," Lee grunted. "She loses more sleep over the cutbacks than you do."
"Well, I can spot her one pair of shoes. It's the least I can do after all she's done for this agency."
"Already taken care of, Billy. Show time, gotta go!"
"Knock them dead!"
"Always do."
"I was talking about Amanda!"
Jeanne and Francine finished the last-minute touchups to Amanda's hair and makeup. "Goodness, little chick, you look even more stunning now than you did when we did "Kiss Me Kate" motherhood makes you glow," Jeanne praised as she formed the final curl against the younger woman's neck.
"I can just picture you and Lee around the office while you sing "Why Can't You Behave" Francine giggled as she dusted blush on the apples of Amanda's cheeks.
"That's not the song I'd choose, Francine," Amanda smiled as she fought the urge to fidget.
Jeanne sighed. "I know, little chick, you hate makeup and hair. Just a few more minutes."
"It itches," Amanda grimaced, wrinkling her nose.
"Okay, I have to ask, what's all this 'little chic' business? It irks you when anyone shortens your name, let alone cutesy nicknames." Francine burst out.
"It took you long enough," Amanda teased, rolling her eyes. "I think you should explain, Ms. Collins," squeezing the older woman's hand.
"I was pregnant Amanda's freshman year. Adele was born with bright green eyes and my red hair. After the accident that took Mr. West, Sal and I wanted to help Amanda, and Mrs. West took some time to get through the worst of the grief in Vermont. Amanda was there when Adele was born and practically her nanny. When Adele started talking, she refused to use Amanda's name, just kept calling her a little chic. When she started using sentences, she told me that chicks were soft, sweet, and cute."
"She adored chicks," Amanda added. "All her favorite stories had chicks in them, her favorite jammies had chicks on them, she wanted nothing more then to have a chick as a pet. There was one issue."
Francine cringed. "They can't be housebroken or trained to be quiet?"
"Alright, three issues," Jeanne chuckled. "Adele was terrified of chickens!"
"Oh, no!" Francine gasped.
"Yes," Amanda sighed. "She just couldn't understand that her darling chicks grew up into squawking monsters. So, I became her little chick."
"Because you are soft, cute and sweet," Francine smiled. "Well, I can't say it's an inaccurate description."
"Well, I can't look that way now," Amanda noted.
Jeanne shook her head. "You will always be soft and sweet, Amanda, that is the essence of your soul. However, you are also sleek, sensual, and exquisite. Now, hold still and let Miss Drummond do your eyeliner."
"Francine is fine, Ms. Collins, really," the blond offered. As she applied the lines along Amanda's large round eyes she marveled at the transformation. 'She really is gorgeous. I never noticed it, it's a gamine kind of gorgeous. Her eyes are like Audrey Hepburn's, and I never noticed. Some agent I am.'
"You must call me Jeanne, Francine," the older woman invited. "I'll never get Amanda to do it," she laughed.
"I'm sorry, I'll try harder, I promise!" Amanda exclaimed.
"Why don't you have an issue with Sal?" Francine asked as she applied the false eyelashes, and mascara to Amanda's eyes.
"He flunks anyone in his class who doesn't call him Sal!" Amanda sighed. "Anyone who called him Professor Collins just once automatically got flunked. My GPA was too important to mess up."
"In my husband's defense, he's still rebelling against his late Supreme Court Justice maternal grandfather, and his Law Professor father," Jeanne added.
Fracine grinned. "I suppose that's a valid reason. Alright, Amanda, I've done all I can, let's get you into costume."
Amanda stared at her face in the mirror in wonder. She'd never considered her lips her best facial feature, but Francine made her not look ridiculous wearing red lipstick. She looked like an elegant golden age movie star. "Francine, I admit it, you gave me some very fancy feathers," she smiled.
"I am the best! Now, get the stockings and shorts on, I'll hook up the bustier. So, when will Adele join the family business, or is she in a rebelling by going into law," Francine playfully asked.
Jeanne leaned against Amanda's chair, and they clasped hands. "No, Francine, Adele passed away a month before Joe and I were married, Leukemia," Amanda whispered.
Francine paled as her stomach flipped. "Oh, my God, I am so sorry. I— I— I—"
"No, dear, no, you have nothing to be sorry for," Jeanne insisted. "Every instant, we had as a family was sacred, and nothing makes me happier than sharing the memories."
"Amanda can tell you that domesticity and I have a hate-hate relationship, but I am truly sorry for your family," Francine whispered.
"Merci, for your kindness, Francine. Now, I must fluff up my own feathers before we open," Jeanne replied. Turning to Amanda, her voice became stern. "Now, Amanda, you do everything Sal says. If he tells you not to go near a table, or a barstool, you listen! Your safety is just as important as Phillip's teeth, do you understand me!"
Amanda smiled; she noticed Francine biting her tongue to keep her cover. The whole Agency knew of her predilection for disobedience, and she knew the wisecracks her temporary partner was dying to let fly. "I'd never cross Sal, he'd bring the curtain down on me," she assured.
"I'll see you both backstage," Jeanne answered.
Up on the balcony Sal and Davey finalized the lighting and camera angles for Amanda's dance and adjusted the smoke for the other numbers. "You know, Davey I'll never understand why you choose to stay here when you could easily pull down seven figures in any of the job offers you get daily," Sal chuckled.
"You mean you doubt my love and commitment to the arts! Prof, I'm hurt," Davey smirked, putting his hand over his heart. "I don't want a seven-figure job, I don't want corporate or government work culture. I like it here, always have. If I hadn't been dragged here by my former buddies, I wouldn't have met Daisy, I wouldn't be a daddy now. I wouldn't have thought of taking your classes to clear my brain of too much data. I would have been an utterly miserable workaholic swallowing anti-depressants, and not on my way to a PhD. I wouldn't have let myself do what I really want to do, teach people like me. No, Prof, as long as Daisy and I can support our little family here we're staying. When I start teaching, I'll be using all I've learned here to make sure my students leave my classes ready and eager to follow their dreams whatever they are."
"You're a good kid, Davey," Sal coughed, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. "You're sure the lights won't show Amanda's tables on the cameras?"
Davey nodded. "Not a problem if I cut the table overhead lights and hit her from behind and both sides the tables will be completely in silhouette. How do you think she got involved with the Feds?"
"With Amanda anything is possible, but she doesn't want us to know, so, I won't pry. Although, it'd be hysterical to see her face if I told her this isn't our first show with IFF," Sal shrugged. "How do you know about them?"
"They approached me during my senior year of high school. I was tempted, but I knew I'd never be able to handle being face-to-face with the evil they deal with. I was honored though."
"Well, time to put on my lion tamer duds and get backstage," Sal sighed.
Lee pulled into his parking space reserved at the Palais des Ombres and took a deep breath. 'Stetson, you are a professional. Your partner is receiving a drop, and you will make contact, you've done this millions of times, it's fine,' he told himself. 'But she's mine! She is mine!' He reached into his glove compartment and took out his old Sigma Phi pin and put it on his lapel. "She's also a damn good agent," he hissed aloud to himself.
The moment he walked in Jeanne knew he was Amanda's colleague. The exquisitely tailored jacket and shirt fit him to perfection, nobody would be able to tell he had a shoulder holster underneath if they didn't know what to look for. His slacks also hid his ankle holster completely. 'Oh, Adele, your little chick has a fairytale prince in her life now,' she thought as she finally saw his handsome face. As he turned after paying his cover charge, she noticed the fraternity pin and grinned. 'A Sigma Phi boy for a Kappa girl perhaps?' She watched as he walked to the bar and ordered the best scotch. 'Please don't shoot it back like you're on spring break,' she thought. She breathed a sigh of relief when he sipped it like a civilized adult.
"Well, the Feds are leveling up their game since the last time we did this, darling," Sal grinned, wrapping his arms around her from behind.
"Well, the other poor boy, Barns, was a bit flustered twenty years ago, my love," she answered. "So were we."
"Flustered!" Sal huffed softly in his wife's ear. "We're still paying the bill for all the glassware he destroyed."
"My drama king," Jeanne giggled. "Now, I'll guide the young man to his table, and you tell the boys to ignore his guns."
"Oui, mon femme," Sal whispered, pressing a kiss to the hollow of her neck.
Lee sat at the bar, keeping an eye out for Bela, Vik, and Kolya. So far, he liked the ambiance of the club. Francine's scouting had prepared him for the potential challenges, but the classy old-world elegance of the house, and the precision of the management provided an interesting contrast to the understated coziness in the atmosphere. As he sipped his scotch, he the bartenders and waitresses set out small bowls of olives, and roasted nuts, baskets of crackers, and trays of cold cuts and cheeses. "Nice spread," he said to the bartender. "How much will it set me back?"
"The hors d'oeuvres are paid for by the cover charge, monsieur," Jeanne answered with a warm smile.
Lee turned and smiled at the lovely lady, 'She's about the same age as Paul. This is Amanda's Paul,' he thought to himself. He immediately stood and offered her his hand. "Good evening, Madame, you have quite a special place here," he complimented.
"Welcome to the Palais des Ombres, you're very kind. I always enjoy greeting newcomers personally," she answered impressed by his good manners.
"Is it that obvious?" chuckled Lee.
Jeanne arched an elegant brow. "I'd wager a great deal that you've been in many clubs much more exclusive, and much less so, if I were a betting woman. You haven't come here though, and I leave the risk taking to my husband."
'Definitely Amanda's Paul,' Lee grinned. "He's a fortunate man," he replied.
"He is, and so am I. Do you have a reservation, monsieur?"
"I do, under Lee Stetson," he answered.
"Well, Monsieur Stetson let's get you settled at your table. I assure you tonight's show will be full of extra special magic."
"Madame, of that I have no doubt," Lee answered with the smile of a man in love.
'Definitely a Sigma Phi boy for a Kappa girl,' Jeanne thought with a smile.
Francine stopped herself from reaching for her gun tucked in her bag as the snide and strident voice of club's self-appointed prima donna resounded through the backstage. "What the hell, SAL!" she bellowed.
"Bobbi, be glad the band covered that, or I'd dock your tips," Sal droned with complete indifference.
"Who's the mouse!" the statuesque blond with more curves than a mountain backroad sneered.
"The lady is an old friend who needs a one-night gig to pay her kid's dentist. Stay away from her or you won't be working for a while," Sal warned, maintaining affected boredom. "Hey, Amanda, are you still a magic needle?" he called out.
"Here!" Amanda cried, scampering up to him.
"Ten beads. Need it done in eight," Sal snapped, tossing her a skirt and a pack of sparkling beads.
"Got it," Amanda answered.
Francine grinned as she watched her favorite housewife pull out her travel sewing kit from her purse and start mending. "I should have taken home economics," she chuckled.
"It might be considered anti-feminist, but I've never regretted it," Amanda answered not looking up. "It's empowering to know how to do even simple tasks. My boys don't have a choice, if their high school offers it, they're taking it!"
"Hey, mouse! I'm talking to YOU," Bobby the bellower interrupted.
Francine gritted her teeth and smiled sweetly. "I've been here since before opening, there's nobody here named mouse," she simpered, pouring all her bayou into her voice.
The other blond turned a look of pure venom to the intruder and growled. "I'm not talking to you, Barbie so shove it!" Snapping her fingers in front of Amanda's face she snarled. "Who the hell do you think you are stealing my money!"
Amanda fought to keep herself from giggling. She steadfastly continued repairing the skirt and waited until she knotted the last bead. She slid past the irate woman and handed it to Sal. "Done in five," she grinned.
"Ha! Motherhood and the burbs haven't made you soft," Sal beamed. He pulled a twenty out of his pocket and handed it to her.
"It only used to be dollar a bead?" Amanda tilted her head in confusion.
"Inflation, darling!" Sal crowed. "CeeCee, get your cute self over here!"
"Here!" the tiny redhead yelled. "Thanks, Sal!" she grabbed the skirt and ducked behind a screen.
"Poor thing's real name is Cordelia Crammer," Sal sighed. "She's got some major pipes though and her dramatics are world class."
"And the sex appeal of a doormat," Bobbi sniped.
'You should record your voice before speaking,' Francine fumed.
"I might not be a Marilyn or a Mansfield, but I can certainly be a Deborah Kerr!" CeeCee cut in as the band started the intro for "I Feel Pretty." "I'm up, break a leg, Mrs. King. Nice to meet you, Miss Drummond," she smiled before stepping out.
"I like her," Francine grinned.
"Nobody cares, Barbie!" Bobbi spat. She grabbed Amanda by the shoulder and snarled again. "Who are you to steal my number and my money?"
Amanda quickly signaled Francine not to interfere. Shaking the sturdier woman off her she put her hands on her hips. "My name is Amanda King, and I've never stolen anything in my life. I'm an old student of Sal and Jeanne's and a single mother who needs quick cash for the dentist. That's it! One song and I'm done," she used the extra inches her heels gave her already taller frame to peer down into Bobbi's narrowed eyes. "I'd be careful if I were you, if you're caught using around here, you'll be in jail at least overnight and unemployed."
Rage painted itself all over Bobbi's fake tan. "Mind your own business and get off my stage!" she howled.
Sal came up behind Francine and she turned to him. "I thought the punk with the Cheetos and the weed was your problem child," she remarked.
"Bobbi is the burden," Sal whispered back.
"I'll make like Cinderella at the stroke of midnight," Amanda answered her attacker. "First, I provide for my kids, period!"
Francine's mouth fell open at Amanda's aggression. 'Is this how she is at PTA meetings?'
"Where's Jeanne?" Bobbi demanded.
"On the floor," Sal answered still sounding bored. "You know she'll just cut you out of the rest of the show and do it herself if you go out and do your Walmart toddler routine."
"Pray I don't see you here again after tonight, mouse," she hissed, stomping to her dressing table.
Amanda turned to Sal and Francine. "She's not as bad as Brenda Thurgood," she shrugged. "You might want one of the security boys to search her purse. I think she's jonesing for a hit."
"I'll get on it," Sal sighed, heading to the rear exit.
Francine rolled her eyes. "Brenda Thurgood sounds like a story."
"Buy me lunch and you might get it," Amanda winked.
"Why should I bribe you?" Francine sniffed.
"You have the expense account."
Lee found himself enjoying the show more than he thought he might. The live music was fantastic, the dancers, while not exceptional in general, had great comedic timing and obviously worked on their craft. One little redhead had the whole crowd in stitches with a ballet inspired "I Feel Pretty" starting in a beaded tutu and ending in a little tank top and flannel pajama bottoms. Surprisingly, the show mixed the sensualness of classic burlesque without any peep show, and no vulgar smutty costuming. The hors d'oeuvres were tasty and always in supply which kept people from filling up on drinks. Bela and Kolya showed up before the show started and seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely. Lee noticed Bela twisting his thick gold wedding band. Kolya shocked him not only by smiling but with a loud booming laughter that erupted from his wiry slim frame. Vik unfortunately decided punctuality wasn't his virtue.
'I might just beat Amanda to give him a hiding,' he thought.
In the middle of a particularly satiric interpretation of "Single Ladies" Vik trudged to his seat with his ever-present bodyguard. The giant protector dropped a piece of paper next to Lee's foot. Sighing, he deftly picked it up. "Forgive me, Lee, mama called." Lee smiled to himself. 'I can't be irritated with that.'
After the trio left the stage, Jeanne appeared under a spotlight. "Bienvenue, to all our new friends and thanks to our old friends who continue to help support us here at the Palais," she greeted. "As most here know, Sal and I make it a point to support both students and veterans of the arts here. Whether musicians, dancers, or production we constantly strive to keep our theatrical family intact no matter how much time passes. To that end, it gives us unimaginable joy to introduce a former student that brought us the greatest joy in our entire twenty-years of teaching. Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you for our finale tonight, Ms. Amanda Lee!"
Standing in the momentary pitch black behind the curtain Amanda breathed and wished that her father was with her. Then she smiled, 'I'm with Lee, I can do anything with and for him.' As the first note of the music sounded, she started to sing and lost herself in the moment.
Lee came to attention in his seat at Jeanne's announcement. 'She used my name!' The thought echoed like a bomb in his mind, leaving him feeling electric shocks through every inch of his body. Before he could process the shock, her voice came as the curtain rose.
"Dear future husband—"
Francine saw it first. Sal had kindly allowed her to go back up to the balcony to watch Amanda's performance. She spotted Lee instantly and his expression shouted to her that he'd lost the ability to think. Amanda in her cheesecake Air Force costume, glamorous makeup, and pin curls, had stupefied him. Amanda stupefied her as well. The twice-a-year karaoke sessions at Nedlinger's and the occasional dances she'd seen Amanda do at Agency parties barely scratched at the talent the housewife from Arlington kept under her perfect suburban mother existence. She gasped as the brunette did a no-hands cartwheel between the triangle of tables she had set up for the drop.
"My big sister always did say Amanda was the best in the cheer squad even if she never made captain," Davey muttered, as he worked luminary magic to keep Lee and the contacts in silhouette.
Francine couldn't acknowledge the remark. Watching Amanda swivel and roll her hips as she sang directly to Lee, and the comical way she winked and sashayed around the contacts, playfully tapping the nameplate. All the while never dropping a note, a step, and playing to the entire house. 'This might be the most beautiful drop in counter-intelligence history!'
Amanda only had one thought as she sang and danced her heart out. 'Unless in a turn, do not lose Lee's eyes!' His eyes hadn't left her from the moment the curtain came up. Jeanne had done magic with her basic choreography, and she felt the pulsing joy from the audience vibrating off her body. At one time, the sensation intoxicated and invigorated her, now she just wanted to get the USBs and get home to her boys. As much as she would always love performing, her life now gave her more. She observed the young staring in open-mouthed amazement and fought the urge to laugh, she quickly did a high kick over his head, and sashayed back to Lee. 'Not bad for a mother on the wrong side of thirty,' she thought as she sang the last chorus.
As the last note ended and the lights went down the club erupted into thunderous applause and shouts of encore. Bela, Koyla, and Vik, all took out their billfolds and began to make their tips, and slowly Lee came back to being Scarecrow. He drank a large glass of water as the club began to empty. His contacts each nodded as they stood and left without ceremony. Three wads of cash left on their tables with Amanda Lee written on their napkins. Lee decided not to draw attention to himself, and after finishing his water he scribbled a note for Amanda on a napkin, 'Waiting in the car.'
Amanda could barely breathe as she was ambushed backstage by Sal and the other dancers, all far too effusive in their praise. Bobbi stood in the corner with her arms across her chest and a look that spelled murder. She let out the breath she held as Francine came into sight. "Thank you, all," she sputtered when the clamor died down. "But really, I didn't do so much. The shadows just made it look like more than it was!" she insisted.
"Not another word, little chick!" Sal reproached gently tugging at her ear. "You were fabulous, and you'll be clearing every table of money tonight."
"Money stolen from the people who do this night after night!" Bobbi screeched. She took several steps toward Amanda, but Sal cut her off.
"Enough!" he snapped. "Come with me to Jeanne's office or get tossed right now! The choice is yours."
Amanda caught Francine by the arm and leaned in close to whisper. "I'll get the tips and meet you back in the guest room. I'll put the USBs in the cap, and you can take them to Lee."
Francine nodded. "Good plan, but don't you want to get them to Lee?"
"If I don't get this makeup off soon, I'll be a strawberry for a week. Ever since I got pregnant, I've had a reaction to greasepaint," she sighed.
"You're sure it's safe?" Francine asked. "Leaving you here in the afternoon is one thing, but it's almost twelve-thirty, and Miss Attitude is pissed."
"I'll use the backstairs to get in the apartment, it will be fine. Just tell Lee I'm headed home and to call me when he gets home too."
"You got it. And, Amanda, you were fantastic!" Francine grinned.
