Page 151 of Boss of the Year

“Outside the apartment,” he told me when I asked if he wanted me to refer to him by his drag name once he was fully dressed. “I’m not performing in here, but when we leave, then yes, I am Celeste,d’accord?

My physical transformation was a bit more subdued. Still, the heartbroken girl had been replaced by a chic sex kitten in a leather skirt, a sheer burgundy top, and black heels that gave me an extra four inches.

“Magnifique,” Louis breathed from behind me as he slid an enormous pair of chandelier earrings through his lobes. “You have the, how do you say, veryfuck meenergy.”

“Fuck me, or fuck you? Tonight, I think I prefer the latter.”

He shrugged and adjusted his false eyelashes. “Pourquoi pas les deux?”

I smirked as I touched up my blood-red lipstick. Why not both, indeed?

It was the first time I’d chosen my own outfit from Louis’s theatrical wardrobe instead of letting him dress me like a doll. The leather skirt was shorter than anything I’d ever worn, and the burgundy top was basically transparent over a black lace bra. It wasn’t an outfit designed for the shadows or the corners, but one meant to get attention, even in a cabaret full of drag artists.

More importantly, it made me feel bold and a little dangerous, like someone who couldn’t be messed with.

“You look like you could eat men for breakfast,” Louis observed approvingly. “And maybe some ladies for lunch.” He struck a pose in the mirror. “We are the predators tonight,ma puce. Let them chase us if they can.”

The cabaret wasin a basement in Pigalle, accessible only through an unmarked door next to a late-night crêpe stand. As we descended the narrow stairs, the sounds of music and laughter grew louder, mixing with the scents of cigarettes, weed, and alcohol.

“Bonsoir, Celeste!” The doorman—or door person, I thought was more appropriate—was a massive figure in a leather harness and the most enormous tutu I’d ever seen. They kissed Louis—now Celeste—on both cheeks, and their eyes swept over me appreciatively. “Et qui est cette belle?”

“C’est mon amie, Marie,” Celeste said, then switched to English for my benefit. “She is exploring her wild side tonight.”

“Va pour ça,” the bouncer replied with a wink. “The wild side is the best side.”

I smiled nervously. My heartbeat was already picking up. “I hope so.”

Inside, Celeste settled me at the bar while the rest of the cabaret steadily filled up. Drag artists were putting on a show on the small stage, but otherwise, the crowd was about as mixed as it got. Sex was in the air, as heavy as the perfumes of all the performers, and people of all types took part in the revelry. The floor was full of men dancing with men, women with women, straight or unlabeled singles, couples, or groups enjoying themselves with abandon. Everyone was just themselves.

And I didn’t want to hide. I wanted to be a part of it.

I turned to Celeste with a grin. “It’s amazing.”

“Not too much?” she asked, fully aware of my fears.

“Maybe a little. But I’ll just stay here until I’m ready to go.” I looked around. “I thought it would be more…”

“More gay?” she finished with a chuckle.

“I wasn’t going to say that. More exclusive, maybe. There are just so many people who look…well, like me.”

She laughed. “People can be whatever they want in here. You love who you love, you fuck who you fuck, you dance with whoever makes you feel alive in the moment, okay?”

She turned to hail a bartender, who sidled over to us in an array of rainbow-colored tattoos and equally colorful hair. “Bonsoir.”

Celeste ordered two drinks in rapid French, then turned to me with a grin once they had been set before us.

“La Fée Verte,” she said as she raised her glass to cheer with mine. “It matches my dress.”

“The green fairy?” I translated.

“Absinthe. To open your heart. And relax it too.”

I swallowed nervously, unsure if now was the time to take up drinking again.

But what had that gotten me, really? All my life, I’d been terrified of the worst happening, had avoided drinking and socializing and places like this.

And my heart was still broken. My life still shattered.