Chapter 60: The Invitation

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Lisa’s stretch Lincoln took them home again.

For most of the ride, she still looked unsettled.

She avoided talking about Rice at first. Instead, she mentioned taking Nolan back to the Italian restaurant she had invested in, the same one they had visited before.

Nolan brought Rice up anyway.

Lisa sighed.

"His father and I divorced a long time ago. He grew up in a broken family. The way he is now... his father and I both carry some responsibility."

"You do not," Nolan said. "You are not his guardian. The only mistake you made was indulging him too much."

Whenever Rice caused trouble, Lisa helped clean up the mess. That was not parenting. It was damage control.

Lisa went quiet.

"If neither of you knows how to teach him," Nolan said, "I can do it."

It was time to take on a little fatherly responsibility.

It would help Lisa too.

Besides, Rice was useful. Nolan would need him for several things later.

Lisa considered it, then nodded.

"I did not expect to trouble you with something like this."

"It is not trouble."

"If he had one percent of your brain, I would be satisfied."

Lisa laughed softly.

A few minutes later, they reached the restaurant.

They ate heavily. After dinner, Lisa raised the script again. The video distributor had agreed to buy it for thirty thousand dollars.

Compared with the six thousand dollars Universal had paid earlier that year for the first Fast script, thirty thousand was a high price.

From Lisa’s tone, the details were already close to settled.

Nolan still felt cheated.

He found a way to release the frustration.

Lisa wore a black dress with a slit that night. It was far more convenient than office clothes.

The driver understood without being told and took the long way through several main roads. A stretch Lincoln had a full partition, privacy glass, and an intercom between the front and rear compartments. The arrangement protected passengers.

It also tested the suspension.

"Are you free over the next few days?" Lisa asked, wiping the corner of her mouth.

Nolan shook his head.

They were both eighteen now, and Katherine was on break and around the house.

"That reminds me," he said. "In a few days I may be going to Orlando for the All-Star Game. Want to come?"

The All-Star Game would be an important platform. There might be business matters to handle too. Having Lisa with him would help.

Lisa thought about it, then shook her head. Work was too busy.

When Nolan got out, she changed her mind.

"I do have business in Miami next month," she said. "I could move it earlier."

...

"Nolan, something is wrong with my body."

Early the next morning, Katherine crawled into his arms looking miserable.

It went back to the night before.

Nolan had come home late, claiming team business and dinner with teammates. He had been in a bright, victorious mood and announced that they should celebrate the win.

Katherine’s planned comfort had turned into congratulations.

Fortunately, she had prepared herself in advance.

That morning, after going to the bathroom, she panicked over soreness and unfamiliar aftereffects, then rushed to tell him.

Nolan rubbed his eyes and checked for himself.

It was not nearly as serious as Katherine imagined. Most of it was nerves.

She relaxed.

Then she scratched and bit him as if she needed revenge.

"You were the one who grabbed me back last night," Nolan said, holding her from behind with his eyes closed.

"I said stop teasing me," Katherine corrected.

"You did not say stop."

"And if I had?"

"Then I would have stopped."

"Good."

She bit his wrist anyway.

When Mia left that morning, she specifically warned them, "Young people should not go overboard. Health matters."

She had probably been woken up by Katherine the night before.

From Katherine’s words, expressions, reactions, and every other possible angle, she had been more than willing. Enthusiastic, even. Several times, Nolan had tried to slow down, and she had pulled him back.

Apparently, she had discovered a favorite.

They stayed warm together for a while longer before Nolan got up and checked the money from the night before.

After costs, equipment use had been free, and so had the ice.

Drink profit came to $6,735. That meant they had sold just under 1,900 drinks, with the difference accounted for by loss and waste.

Hot-dog profit initially came to $5,600, including add-ons. Then Nolan reconciled the count by phone with the vendor, Mason, and mentioned the next possible event. Mason understood the opportunity and offered to lower the per-unit cost by fifteen cents next time.

After adjustment, hot-dog profit stood at $6,100.

Extra donations, not counting Lisa’s thousand, added another $1,550.

Total profit for the charity sale: $14,385.

The event was hosted through the school and loosely described as nonprofit, but the sale did not neatly fit the IRS exemption rules for a school fundraiser. The goods were not handmade or donated, and the activity was not part of the school’s core exempt purpose.

So they would have to file. Income, expenses, product source, volunteer list, donation records, all of it.

That went to Mia.

The final donation amounts would be settled by Mia and Rachel together. Between California income tax, sales tax, and the details of reporting, the actual rate could land anywhere from eight to twenty-two percent depending on how the paperwork was handled.

Of course, all of those costs were expenses.

There was still money to make.

"No training today, right?" Katherine hugged him from behind while he worked through the numbers.

Nolan shook his head.

"Good. Tonight, Aerosmith." Katherine opened her notebook and pulled out two concert tickets. Adam had originally prepared them.

"And since we have the day, we can make it a date. Movie in Century City?"

"Not this afternoon," Nolan said. "Jim is interviewing me."

Jim from the Los Angeles Times had contacted him again to schedule a new feature. Apparently, the previous article had worked.

...

"I think I have time," Jennifer Love Hewitt said, plucking at her guitar while holding the phone between her shoulder and cheek. "Tonight sounds fine."

Then she paused.

"Can we even still get tickets?"

"Do not worry about that," Liv Rundgren said on the other end. "My mom gave me VIP box seats. An entire box, and it is only me."

"Your mom is amazing."

"This is the first time she has given me concert tickets. She was acting weird about it too. I do not even know this band."

"It is Aerosmith," Jennifer said, offended on behalf of music itself. "Joe Perry on lead guitar. Brad Whitford on rhythm guitar."

As someone who considered herself a musician, she could list the names easily. They were pillars of American rock.

"And most important," Jennifer continued, "the soul of the band. Steven Tyler."

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