“Is that why you asked Lisa to help you get funding for the show?”
“You don't have to answer that,” Lisa said, squeezing his hand tighter. “I told her it was none of her business.”
“She's your sister and she's worried I'm taking advantage of you. Would you rather explain it to her or to your mother?”
Lisa grimaced.
“I'm not accusing you of anything,” I said. “I just want to understand. Lisa was in a bad way after her surgery. When she left for Las Vegas, I was glad she was getting a change ofscene. But then she stopped answering phone calls and we got increasingly worried.”
“And your mother sent you down here to save her from herself.”
“Yeah,” I admitted.
“Like you've done so many times before.”
“Not that many,” Lisa said mulishly.
“What would ease your mind?” Parker asked.
I was trying to figure out how to phrase my questions. They all sounded like I was prying into Lisa's personal affairs and none of what I wanted to know was any of my business.
“Just spit it out.” Lisa rolled her eyes.
“How much is Lisa's salary?”
“She doesn't get one. She gets a percentage of the house,” Parker said calmly.
I winced. “What percentage?”
“Fifty-fifty because she is also the coproducer.”
“Is that in writing?” I asked Lisa.
“Yes,” she groaned at me.
“May I see the contract?”
“No.”
“Darling, what harm could that do?” Parker said, kissing the back of her hand.
“I don't know where my copy is,” she admitted.
Before I could go nuclear, Parker said, “I can e-mail it to you later today. My attorneys drew it up so that it was a fair contract.”
I was leaning toward believing him. “If everything is on the up-and-up, all you need to do is call Mom and tell her you’re producing your own show in Carson City. She'll be thrilled. After that, just answer her calls once in a while and everything will be back to normal.”
Lisa snorted. “I don't want to call her until the show is successful. I don't want her to build it up in her mind just to have me fail again.”
Now it was my turn to snort. “When have you ever failed? You're the golden child.”
“Yeah, I'm so golden that if I don't talk to my mother once a week, she thinks I've hurt myself or been led astray by con artists. Unlike you. She trusts you with everything.”
I blinked at her in shock before staring back down at my chicken salad. There were walnuts and cut up red grapes in it. I couldn't decide if it was delicious or weird. Why not both? That was easier to think about than the fact that Lisa seemed to be resentful of my relationship with our mother.
“Why didn't you want me to come to opening night?” That had been bothering me all last night—well the noncheesecake and Miles portion of the night.
“I was afraid I was going to bomb. I was a terrible exotic dancer. I watched the prostitutes at the brothel for tips about being sexy and I couldn't figure that out either. My leg can't support me like it used to. I created a routine where I didn't have to put stress on my knee. I didn't know if it would work or if I'd make a fool out of myself.”
