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a real nuisance.”

“Go ahead.”

Closing my eyes, I tried to center myself. The ringing stopped.

“Looks like she gave up,” Miles said.

“Wait for it,” I muttered, and like clockwork the phone went off again. “Yes, Mom,” I said, answering it on the second ring. I thought I’d kept the aggravation out of my voice.

“How’s your sister?”

I debated how much to tell her. “I still haven’t found her.”

“Why not?”

“She’s not answering her cell and she moved out of her apartment about three weeks ago. She also quit her job around that time.”

“Well, where is she?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out. I’m asking her friends and the people she worked with.”

“She’s probably auditioning for a production down there. You should hit all the talent scouts. Maybe you’re being replaced.”

She did not just say that.

My mother continued on, oblivious that she’d fired an arrow into my gut. “Get a newspaper and find out who’s hiring for a lead dancer.”

“No one uses paper anymore.” That was the most scathing thing I could come up with.

“I’m sure now that she’s no longer bartending . . .”

Stripping, I corrected mentally.

“It’s only a matter of time before she calls in to tell us that she’s booked a new gig. Really, Jackie, you should have hustled more for your sister.”

“Give me the phone,” Miles said, reaching for it.

No, I mouthed at him and scooted away so he couldn’t take it from me. “Well, I’m glad you’re not worried. I guess I’ll go back to New York.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“I’m sorry, I’m going to dare to do whatever I want.” That wasn’t much better, but at least this time my attitude got through to her and her tone switched from strident to cajoling.

“Jackie, your sister isn’t good with contracts or numbers. She needs you to stop people from taking advantage of her. Find her before she signs away all of her rights. Lisa is an artist. All she wants to do is dance. She doesn’t care about the mundane things like we do.”

“I’m losing cell service,” I lied. “Gotta go. I’ll call you when I hear something.” I hung up. I wanted to turn it off, but I didn’t dare in case Lisa or someone who knew where she was called. I stared at it with trepidation. A few minutes clicked past, but Mom didn’t call back. Sighing, I tossed the phone back into my purse.

“If you don’t mind me saying so, your mom’s a bitch.”

“And if I do mind?” I didn’t, and it actually felt good to have someone take my side against my mother instead of trying to explain her behavior away.

“Then I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, but your mom’s a bitch.”

“Third time is the charm.”

“She’s a fucking bitch.”

“Thanks for that.” I wrapped my arms around his and laid my head against his shoulder.

“I’m sensing the room service mood has been broken,” Miles said.

“A little bit, yeah.”

“Dee lived with her mother. If you’re not all mothered out, we could try there and see if we get lucky before getting lucky.”

I kissed his arm because that coaxed a small smile out of me. “That sounds like a good idea.”

“Has she always been like this?”

I nodded. “Sometimes she’s worse. Usually I can ignore her. I’ve had to grow a thick skin when it comes to her blatant favoritism of Lisa. Sometimes though,” I said. “She still makes me feel like crying.”

“If she was in my club, I’d toss her out on her ass.”

“I think I’d pay money to see that.”

“Why does she favor Lisa?”

“My therapist thinks she’s living vicariously through my sister. Mom’s always been in love with the theater, but she didn’t have the talent. Lisa was a prodigy and I was merely good. We didn’t have a lot of money, so it made sense to her to promote Lisa.”

“While you got left holding the bag?”

“Lisa’s bags, yes. And later her calendar and her bookings.”

“Why did you do it?”

“Well, at first I had no choice. But after I moved out, I guess it was just habit. And the job pays well. It was numbingly boring and gut wrenching to make her dreams come true. I compartmentalized a lot of it.”

“You locked yourself away from your life?”

I wrinkled my nose. “You make it sound so dramatic, but yeah, in a way. I guess that’s why it feels so good to be so trashy in Las Vegas.”

“You’re one of the best dancers I’ve ever seen.”

Blinking back tears, I clutched his arm tighter. “I needed to hear that.”

“You know, maybe you should see if there are any shows hiring.”

“You think Lisa’s auditioning to be a showgirl?”

He snorted. “If she is, she won’t last past her first audition. She couldn’t do four sets of three minutes every hour without having to ice her knee.”

“Then what would I find out at a cattle call?”

“You could find out that your mother doesn’t know shit about talent and that you could become a Las Vegas showgirl.”

I giggled nervously. He had to be joking. I looked up at his face. He was completely serious. “But I can’t get time off from my job in New York to work as a showgirl.”

“So don’t take the job.”

Don’t take the job? Was he nuts? I had wanted to be a Rockette from the very first Christmas I saw them dance at Rockefeller Center. A Vegas showgirl complete with feathered harness and the glittery body suits was the epitome of professional dancer to me.

“How much do they make?”

“About 40K a year, I think.”

I couldn’t live on that in Manhattan, but maybe I could in Las Vegas. Wait, what was I even thinking? I had a life in New York, a great career, and my family was there. My phone buzzed and I dug it out to look at it. Winter storm warning was in effect in Manhattan for the next forty-eight hours. Letting go of Miles, I rolled my window down and let the hot desert air buffet my face.

A Las Vegas showgirl.

Me.

“Do you think I can do

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