“I am not abandoning you to the wolves, not even for some ass.”

Just as I was about to thank him, music blared out of the speakers. Recognizing it as Aerosmith’s “Dude Looks Like a Lady”, I thought it was an odd choice, but once again, what did I know.

The stage lights blazed on, momentarily blinding me. When my eyes adjusted, I peered at the stage. It wasn’t a bunch of Magic Mikes who came strutting onto the stage. Don’t get me wrong, they were men, but they were dressed in glittering sequins and intricate beading. Wearing wigs in every color of the rainbow, their lips glistened with shiny gloss.

Ty and I slowly swiveled our heads to stare at each other. We both wore the same What the fuck? looks.

Yes, ladies and gentleman, we had just officially chased Addison down to a drag show.

Our waitress then returned with our drinks. Peering up at her, I realized what I had missed before: she was also a he in drag.

As she served Ty, I couldn’t wait any longer. I needed alcohol stat, so I grabbed my scotch off her tray and downed it in one gulp. “I think I’m going to need another,” I said, placing the glass back down.

“Yes sir.”

When the waitress left, I shook my head. “We’ve somehow stumbled into the fucking Twilight Zone. I mean, what the hell could Addison possibly be doing here?”

After Ty threw back his scotch, his expression became extremely grave. “You haven’t seen Addison naked, have you?”

“No, of course not. Why?”

“I’m just wondering if she might really be a dude.”

Now it was my turn to do the hysterical laugh. “Bullshit. There’s no way Addison is a dude.” Not with all those luscious curves of hers. At Ty’s continued skeptical look, I added, “Dad had the FBI run a background check when she started at the campaign, along with another one before he asked her to be my fiancée. If there was a dick on her, don’t you think the feds would have sniffed it out?”

He stroked the stubble on his chin thoughtfully. “True, but why does the lead guy remind me of Addison?”

When I followed Ty’s gaze, my stomach jumped into my throat. The guy—or girl—did look like Addison in the face. Same bone structure, same eye color. Holy fucking shit. Was it possible that Addison was a man?

At the end of the song, applause and cheering rang out around us. While the other ladies exited to the left and right, the Addison lookalike came to the center of the stage. “Good evening. Welcome to Divas. I’m so glad you could join us tonight. I am Estrella, your hostess this evening.” When more applause and catcalls followed, Estrella bowed. “Thank you, thank you. I appreciate your enthusiasm. My cleavage also appreciates your green enthusiasm, if you know what I mean.” Bending over, she flashed her chest to the crowd, showing it was stuffed with money.

“We have a really phenomenal show for you this evening, and I am proud to welcome a very special guest tonight. It isn’t very often that her talent gets to grace the stage here at Divas, so hold on to your tits and your dicks, and put your hands together for the lovely and talented Adriana!”

The curtain went down, and the lights once again dimmed as an upbeat, 80s-sounding tempo filled the air. The multicolored stage lights began to flicker before the curtain flung open. The giant swig of beer I’d just taken spewed out onto the table at the sight of Addison—the real Addison—striding down the stage. She might’ve had on a long black wig, platform heels, and an inch of stage makeup, but it was definitely her. Part of me exhaled a relieved breath that it was Addison and that there wasn’t a chance she was Estrella and hiding a dick.

“Holy hell, she’s Cher,” Ty muttered.

Oh yeah, she was Cher all right. She was Cher circa 1987 in the “If I Could Turn Back Time” video—and before you revoke my man card, I would argue that my mother was a huge Cher fan. In fact, I met her when she performed at my mother’s fiftieth birthday party.

In case you’ve never seen the video, Cher basically sports fishnet stockings and black electrical tape worn like a skimpy body suit to moderately cover her tits and ass along with a black leather jacket. Even after Assgate and sharing a hotel room for the last few months, I’d never seen so much of Addison on display. It was incredibly unnerving and so incredibly sexy watching her perform.

After Addison danced past our table, Ty elbowed me. “You know, she’s really good.”

“You said the same thing when she was belting Evita on the bus.”

“Yeah, I meant it then, and I mean it now, too. She’s one hell of an actress to be able to sound like Cher.”

“Let’s not forget the fact that she can act like she’s in love with me.”

Ty chuckled. “That’s true.”

When the music ended, Addison brought her fingers to her lips and then blew a kiss to the audience. After taking a deep bow, she waved and then started off the stage.

Estrella came back out, and this time she was Cher, but Cher circa 1965 with the long, straight hair. Her blue bell-bottoms sparkled along with her silver halter top. “Good evening again, friends. It’s no secret that we’re big fans of Cher around here.” She tossed some of her dark hair over her shoulder while licking her tongue over her top lip, mimicking Cher’s signature early moves. “Whenever Adrianna comes to Divas, we can’t help but put on a few extra Cher songs.”

The opening strains of “I’ve Got You Babe” began, and Addison reappeared from behind the curtain. This time she wore a short black wig and a white button-down shirt with a fuzzy vest and pants. Her transformation into Sonny circa the late 60s was completed by a black mustache. It was like a Victor/Victoria moment where she was a girl pretending to be a man, leaving me to feel like I was on some sort of acid trip.