Sweet Trilogy. Susan Mallery
she was worried or even cared. Claire was nothing to her.
Still, as the clock in the great room ticked along, she found herself getting nervous and thinking about accidents and car jackings.
“You’re being stupid,” she muttered to herself. “If something bad had happened, you would have heard by now.”
Just then, someone knocked on the front door.
Nicole pushed herself into a standing position and started toward the door. She wasn’t moving very quickly and the person knocked again before she could get there.
“I’m coming,” she yelled, annoyance sliding over worry. “Hang on a sec.”
Expecting to see a uniformed police officer or sheriff, she could only stare at the well-dressed older woman standing in front of her.
“Who are you?” the other woman asked coldly.
“No one who is going to answer that question,” Nicole told her. “You must have the wrong house.”
“Is Claire Keyes here?”
Nicole hesitated a second before saying, “Not at the moment.”
“But this is where she disappeared to?” Her dark gaze moved over Nicole before dismissing her. Her red lips thinned. “You’re the sister, I presume.”
Nicole felt no need to confirm or deny. “Who are you?”
“Lisa Whitney. I’m Claire’s manager.”
With that, the other woman swept into the house. Nicole didn’t think she’d healed enough to physically throw the other woman out, so she closed the door and followed her into the great room.
Lisa shrugged out of her tailored coat, revealing a slim body, quality clothing in neutral colors and a handbag with a designer label. Nicole’s idea of high fashion was a cashmere blend twin set, so she didn’t recognize the shoes, but would guess they cost as much as a decent used car. Lisa’s short brown hair was expertly styled, her makeup suited her face and the gold earrings, watch and necklace were probably real and 18 karat. Nicole pretty much hated her on sight.
Lisa draped her coat over the back of a chair and looked around. “She’s really staying here?” The tone of the question implied this place wouldn’t be much better than sleeping in a car.
“In my house, you mean? Yes. She’s staying here.”
“I see. What about practice? I don’t see a piano. Is she taking classes?”
“Not that it’s your business, but there’s a piano downstairs.”
Lisa looked at her. “Everything about Claire is my business. How much is she practicing? Four hours a day works best. She can get by on three and much more than five doesn’t help anyone.” She paused expectantly.
Nicole didn’t know what to say. Until last night, she hadn’t been sure Claire was playing at all. She told herself she didn’t owe her intruder anything.
“I have no idea,” she said. “I don’t keep track of her.”
“You should. Is she eating well? Getting enough sleep?”
“Claire is twenty-eight. She’s capable of getting herself food and putting herself to bed.” Jeez, no wonder her sister was totally useless. She’d never been allowed to be a real person.
Lisa glared at her. “Claire isn’t like the rest of us. She is a gifted artist. If she isn’t watched, she’ll work herself into the ground. She needs rest. A lot of rest. The last few years have been grueling. There seemed to be a window of opportunity. We had to take advantage of that.” She hesitated over her next words. “Claire said it was too much, but I knew what was possible. Now she’s at the top. We must do everything we can to keep her there.”
Nicole wasn’t clear on who this Lisa person was, but she knew she didn’t like her.
“There is no ‘we’ in this.”
Lisa ignored that and walked the length of the room. “Do you know if she looked at the schedule I sent? It should have arrived today.”
Nicole thought about the FedEx package in the kitchen. “No, she hasn’t seen it.”
“She can study it tonight. We need to get going if we’re going to confirm for this fall. It’s already so late, but there were openings. There’s so much for her to do. Learn new music, schedule fittings and media events. Publicity is a large part of what we do. There’s the travel to set up. It’s only thirty concert dates in four months, but still. Preparations must be made.”
Thirty concerts in four months? Nicole did the math. That was about a concert every four or five days. If they weren’t in the same city, that meant travel to and from. Add in the four hours of practice Lisa seemed to require, along with fittings, interviews and who knows what else, it made for a busy day.
Was that really Claire’s life? Constant travel and practice, with the possibly evil Lisa watching over everything?
Nicole remembered Claire telling her that her life was more difficult than it seemed. Not that Nicole was impressed or felt bad or anything. It was still a lot easier than living in the real world.
Lisa crossed to the front window and stared out. “Has she said anything about the recordings?”
“No.” What recordings?
“She’s been invited to be on several CDs. I know she’ll accept the ones for charity. She always does.” Lisa seemed annoyed by that fact. “But some of the others would be helpful, too.”
Recording sessions in addition to everything else? It made Nicole tired hearing about it.
“At least she gets to see all those cities she travels to,” Nicole said, more to herself than to Lisa.
Lisa turned to look at her. “It’s not her job to see the cities. It’s her job to practice and play and give interviews. Of course she would rather run away. I don’t know how I let things get so out of hand.”
Lisa walked back to the chair and picked up her coat. “I will not simply stand around waiting for her. Please tell her she can call me on my cell. And that I’m not leaving Seattle until we get this disaster straightened out.”
Nicole didn’t know what the disaster was and she didn’t want to know. Fortunately, Lisa was no longer her problem. She listened to the familiar sound of a car in the driveway.
“Tell her yourself,” she said. “She just got home.”
“I’M BACK,” CLAIRE CALLED as she walked into the kitchen. “Sorry I’m late. Wyatt asked me to join them for dinner, which turned out to be KFC. It’s their one fast-food night a week and Amy picked. Have you eaten there? It’s really—”
She walked into the living room, saw Lisa standing next to Nicole and instantly wished she hadn’t had that extra chicken leg.
“Hello, Claire,” Lisa said coolly. “Tell me you didn’t actually eat fried chicken.”
Lisa had always had the ability to make her feel small and stupid. An apology hovered on her tongue, but she bit it back. She was a grown-up and if she wanted to eat fast food, she would. It was her right.
“Yes, I did. It was delicious.”
Lisa pressed her lips together. “What about the diet I gave you? It’s nutritionally balanced, with a strong emphasis on soy.”
Nicole made a gagging sound, then held up both her hands, palms out. “Sorry. She just showed up. I didn’t know what to do.”
“It’s okay,” Claire said. She couldn’t hide from Lisa forever. Although it was a lovely daydream.
Lisa ignored the exchange. “I can’t begin to tell you how disappointed I am in you, Claire. Disappearing like that, with no warning.