Page 72 of Fallen Angel

“The only reason we were interested in the Blue Angel is because the place is a legend. It has name recognition,” Martha says. “Building something from scratch is an entirely different level of financial risk.”

“I know. We’re asking you to trust us.”

The Baxters don’t say anything, a silence that stretches on to the point Mallory is uncomfortable. It’s strange to be with the Baxters on mute. It’s feels unnatural. Mercifully, the silence breaks when Poppy appears. Surprisingly, she’s brought Patricia. It’s surreal for Mallory to have the brilliant lawyer, her former boss, joining the party. It’s ironic, considering that Patricia was the one who got her fired from her first law job. But Mallory isn’t the only one who’s had a metamorphosis thanks to burlesque. Somehow, the odd coupling with Poppy has softened Patricia’s sharp edges.

“I didn’t know you have a better half! Lovely to meet you, Patricia,” Justin says. “Welcome to the party.”

Patricia is visibly uncomfortable with the scene and she keeps tugging on her suit jacket, needlessly adjusting it. But Poppy reaches over and pats her hand reassuringly, and the tender gesture makes Mallory grateful to be surrounded by unconventional but fundamentally good people.

Alec brings the two of them up to speed on the conversation so far.

“Well, if name recognition is the problem … I’ve already quit Blue Angel. And once word gets out I’m sure everyone else will, too. We’ll bring them all to the new place,” Poppy says. Patricia nods encouragingly.

“That’s lovely but no offense, none of you are famous—not outside the Lower East Side,” Martha says.

“Moxie is famous,” Poppy says. Mallory shakes her head.

“No, she’s not. I mean—no, I’m not.”

“You are. You were in Page Six with Bette.”

“That’s true,” Alec says. “She might not be a celebrity celebrity, but there’s not a single person in burlesque, coast to coast, who doesn’t know who Moxie is.”

Martha nods. “It’s at least something to build on in terms of getting publicity.”

“Wait—No,” Mallory says. “I’m going to be a behind-the-scenes person. A manager and producer.”

Alec reaches for her hand. “I think what everyone is saying is that you’d be more valuable front-and-center.”

She knows what they’re saying, but that wasn’t the plan. And she’s not sure she’s comfortable with it.

“You could call the place the Moxie,” Poppy says.

Justin perks up. “Maybe.” He turns to Martha. “Maybe we’re getting somewhere? Moxie is the face of the club—the marquee performer. That’s the brand.”

Alec reaches for her hand. He likes the idea, but he’s waiting for her before he weighs in with the group. It seems like a little much. She doesn’t know if she wants to be that visible.

“I don’t know—”

“I’m in,” Patricia says. Everyone turns to look at her. “I’ll invest in that concept. As long as Poppy always has a place to perform.” The two of them share a sweet smile.

Mallory knows if she wants to say no, now is the time. But she thinks of Agnes and her resignation—her fear that burlesque is a dying art form. That she herself was now just a relic of the past. And Violet took advantage of that.

Mallory had felt powerless during that conversation. There wasn’t anything she could do. But now she can.

“Agnes offered me a whole new world when I needed it,” Mallory says. “The least I can do is fight to preserve it.” Even if it means stepping out of her comfort zone just like she did when she stepped onto the stage in the first place.

Martha stands. “You’ve given us a lot to think about. But for now, I’m done with business talk. This is a party. So let’s celebrate.”

A server hovering nearby offers them the evening’s signature cocktail: the Cotton Candy Cloud. It’s gin and elderflower liqueur poured over a puff of pink cotton candy in the glass.

“Cheers,” Martha says, raising her glass. “To the Moxie.”

This is actually going to happen, Mallory realizes.

She’d better get prepared for her next act.

Chapter Thirty-Five