Lilliana Jones and the Temple of Groom Read online

  Okay, maybe Lilly fibbed a little. Maybe she wasn’t perfectly happy, but she wasn’t unhappy. Was she? Maybe she was, but Madam Love was grasping at straws. A bear? A trip out of the country? A husband? Right.

  Madam Love placed the pyramid in her bag and stood. “My work is done here.”

  Colette paid Madam Love and hugged her. “Thank you so much for coming on short notice.”

  “My pleasure.” She gestured to Lilly. “Your friend seems to want to resist nature. If she does it will be a huge mistake. You must encourage her to do the right thing.”

  Colette glared at Lilly. “I’ll do my best.”

  Madam Love turned to walk away and then stopped. “I just picked up on something. It’s just a word, but it’s strong.”

  Colette took a step toward Madam Love. “What’s the word?”

  “Temple.” She squeezed her eyes shut for a second and then opened them. “I’m not sure what it means, but there’s a temple connected to the man Lilly will meet. Her future husband.”

  “Temple? What kind of temple? Like the temple on someone’s head? Or temple like a church?”

  Madam Love shrugged. “Just a temple. I don’t know. That’s all I got.”

  Colette glanced over to Lilly. “Remember that. A temple is important.”

  Lilly sighed. “It’ll be at the top of my list. Just above get milk and eggs at the grocery store.” Madam Love left and Lilly shook her head. “Well, that was a waste of time. I can’t believe you paid her for that. How much did she rip you off for?”

  Colette stuck her wallet back in her purse. “It doesn’t matter because you’re worth it. I’m telling you, that woman is not a fake. Yes, there are plenty of scam artists in the world but she’s not one of them.”

  “She’s a crackpot.”

  “I guess we’ll find out who’s right and who’s wrong, now won’t we?”

  “I guess we will.”

  They finished their meals in silence, Lilly’s mind on Madam Love’s predictions. It wasn’t like she didn’t want to have the love of her life, a husband, a marriage. But those dreams died a long time ago.

  Chapter Two

  To the untrained eye, the man on the other side of the bar might have appeared to know what he was talking about, but Marco Santini could spot a wine connoisseur imposter a mile away. He waited for the fake with the yellow polo shirt and the upturned collar to say something else that was complete and utter crap.

  The man swished the wine around in his mouth like it was Listerine, then swallowed. “Although I prefer the effervescence and slight tongue tickle of a robust sparkling wine, I must say this one is really turning me on with its complex, full-bodied richness and slight underlying acidity.”

  He drained the rest of the wine, winked at his female companion, and held the glass out in front of Marco’s face. “Keep it coming.”

  Fortunately, Marco was a patient man. He ignored the man’s rudeness and poured him another sample. “This is our 2014 Merlot.”

  “Groovy, baby,” the faker said doing the worst possible imitation of Austin Powers. His accent sounded more like Austin, Texas. But the guy was one hundred percent ostentatious.

  This time he slurped the wine like hot tea and nodded. “The elegance of this Merlot is smooth on the palate and denotes a fruity bouquet of tantalizing sexiness.” He pointed to the Pinot Noir. “Let me try some of that one over there.”

  “Of course. You can pour the rest of your glass into the spit bucket.”

  “Not on your life.” The man slammed the rest of the wine and held the glass back out for Marco, who poured a sample of the Pinot.

  As manager of Santander Winery, Marco had worked his way up in the company, learning every detail from every department. One of his job duties when he wasn’t traveling for the company was to help out in the wine tasting room when they were short-staffed. He offered small samples from a list of wines produced by the winery.

  Marco had seen all walks of life coming through the tasting room doors from wine snobs to imposters like this guy. Still, he wouldn't say a thing or embarrass the man. This was the exact person who would most likely buy a case or two of wine just to impress the girl.

  “Sweet and supple,” said the man, leaning toward the woman to kiss her. “Just like you, baby.”

  Oh, God.

  That was a new one.

  Marco wanted to tell the woman to run for her life, but it wasn’t his job to dispense relationship advice to strangers. Especially since he was far from an expert when it came to women.

  The man dropped his credit card on the bar. “Give me two cases.”

  “You got it,” Marco said, waiting until the guy’s back was turned before rolling his eyes. Marco was grateful the man wanted to buy two cases, but he was tired of peddling someone else’s wine. His dream was to be a winemaker—to sell his own wine.

  Santander Winery had a good selection of wines but hadn’t caught on like the more famous wineries just down the road on the Silverado Trail in Napa. Marco had ideas on how to improve many aspects of the winery’s business but the owner didn’t want to listen. Marco’s boss was more interested in expanding to other countries instead of improving what he had first.

  The man drained the rest of the wine in his glass. “Not bad. This one has a well-balanced, velvety structure that almost makes me want to dance naked on the bar. However, I feel there's a lack of sexiness in the tannenbaum.”

  “What are you talking about?” asked Jim Flanagan, Marco’s boss and the owner of the winery.

  Not good.

  “Pardon me?” The man looked quite surprised that someone would call him on his bullshit.

  Jim pointed to the man’s empty glass on the bar. “Wine doesn’t have tannenbaums. A tannenbaum is a German Christmas tree. Wine has tannins.”

  The color of the man’s face was starting to resemble their 2015 Rose of Syrah. “That’s what I said. I said tannins.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “I did, too.”

  The man and Jim had a stare-off and Marco moved in with a bottle of their best wine, hoping to smooth out the situation. “We don’t bring this one out too often but please try our 2009 limited release Cabernet.”

  The man snagged his credit card from the bar and shoved it back in his wallet. “No, thanks. You can forget about that purchase. We’re out of here.” He grabbed the woman’s hand and marched toward the door, slamming it on the way out. A few seconds later Marco heard the sound of screeching tires in the parking lot.

  “What?” said Jim, a look of innocence on his face.

  Marco sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “That guy wanted to buy two cases of wine before you showed up.”

  “We don’t need people like that in here.”

  Marco grabbed the empty glasses from the bar and wiped down the counter. “Yes. We do. Those people keep the doors open and the business profitable, unlike that limo of college grads earlier whose only mission was to get drunk, not buy wine. They’re the ones you should have turned away if you had to turn away someone.” Marco gestured around the empty tasting room. “It’s early in the day and we should be packed right now.”

  “I know, I know. I’ll work on it. You know I’m not the greatest people person. Okay, change of topics—I need you to go back to Italy.”

  The man was crazy.

  Marco had just gotten back from Rome three days earlier and still had jet lag. Plus he was leaving for Australia in two weeks to help build a new winery there. The project in Australia would keep him away from home for six months, so he wanted to use the time before the trip to see friends he hadn’t seen in a while and relax.

  “Don’t look at me that way,” Jim said, fidgeting with the bottle opener. “Dante’s wife just went into labor a month early, so he can’t go overseas now. You’re the only other person I trust to make sure everything is ready to go at the exhibition.”

  Santander was a sponsor of the Lazio International Wine & Spirits Exhibit
ion. It was all Jim had talked about for the last few months. It was an honor for the winery to be there, but Marco wasn’t in the mood to hop back on a plane so soon. He needed to convince Jim to send someone else.

  “What about Robert?”

  Jim shook his head. “No way.”

  “Steve?”

  Jim stepped toward Marco and squeezed his shoulder. “You’re my only option. I would go myself, but the wife would kill me since that would mean missing our anniversary Caribbean cruise. We’ve had that trip planned for over a year and four other couples are going with us. Lucky for me you don’t have a wife or a baby on the way.”

  Thanks for rubbing it in.

  Not that Marco didn’t want either but it made little sense with his lifestyle. What kind of family life would that be if he was never home?

  No life at all.

  That’s why Marco had been avoiding women until he could get his career going in the right direction. This was also why he wanted to have his own business—so he could control everything and make all the decisions. So he could make other people do the traveling for him and only travel when it was for pleasure.

  Marco didn’t like this one bit and needed clarification. “So, you’re telling me I need to fly to Rome, come back here for a few days, then turn around and go to Australia?”

  “No, not at all. You’ll fly to Rome to be at the event for opening day this Saturday. After you make sure everything is ready to go, you’re free to do whatever you want until you continue on to Sydney. Hell, you always complain you don’t get to enjoy the cities you travel to. Now’s your chance.”

  “Jim . . .”

  “I even picked up the hotel for the week even though you’ll only be working one day. It was cheaper than flying you back here. Go visit your sister this time.”

  That part Marco wouldn’t mind doing at all. He missed seeing Daniella and his best friend Stefano. But he also missed relaxing.

  Marco placed two tasting bottles back on the shelf. “Okay.”

  What else could he say?

  Jim slapped him on the back. “I knew I could count on you.”

  A few minutes later Marco called Stefano in Italy.

  “Marco,” said Stefano, answering on the first ring. “What’s up, my friend?”

  “Guess who’s coming back to Italy?”

  “What? Are you coming to Sorrento this time?”

  “Yes. Finally. I can come see you when I’m done with work.”

  “Bellísimo! This is wonderful news. I’ll tell Daniella.”

  Daniella was Stefano’s wife, who also happened to be Marco’s sister. Marco was the one who had introduced the two of them and they were happily married.

  Marco also wanted to be happily married.

  “Are you there?” Stefano asked.

  “Yeah. Sorry. I was thinking.”

  “Not a surprise. I’m serious when I tell you I want to move there and start a winery with you. California, here I come!”

  Marco laughed, even though Stefano had the money to start such a venture if he wanted to. “Right. You have an amazing life in Sorrento. You’re just going to pack up and leave that all behind?”

  “Easily! I’m not defined by my job. Daniella is the most important thing in my life and I can love her the same, no matter where I live or what I do. Life is short and you have to follow your dreams. Look, we’ll talk when you get here.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “And you need to meet a beautiful woman and have a family. Your clock is ticking.”

  Marco chuckled. “I don’t know what types of books you’ve been reading but men don’t have clocks. Give Daniella a kiss from me and I’ll see you soon.”

  Marco ended the call, deep in thought. He was tired of his lifestyle and needed to make a change.

  He was ready.

  Chapter Three

  Lilly reached over and stabbed the off button of the car stereo with her index finger when “Danger Zone” from Kenny Loggins came on. That was the last song she wanted to hear.

  I see danger in your future.

  The words from the psychic came right back to her. She tried to shake them out of her brain. She told herself that was just a coincidence, but she didn’t want that song stuck in her head for the rest of the day.

  Lunch with Colette and Madam Love had been a complete waste of time. Not only had it broken her out of her safe, normal routine, it irritated her since the psychic made the most ridiculous predictions. Lilly also didn’t like that her best friend had lied to her. She knew Colette was just trying to help, but did Lilly really need help? She didn’t think so.

  “Intervention,” she mumbled to herself. “Right. I don’t need no stinking intervention.”

  Lilly sat in her car at the corner, waiting for the light to change. She needed to get back to work where she felt safe. Plus, she had an important meeting to attend.

  Something in her periphery from across the intersection caught her attention. A mascot standing on the corner, waving a big sign promoting Bear River Pizza.

  The mascot was a bear.

  She leaned forward in her seat and roared with laughter, staring at the mascot through the windshield. Some psychic.

  “A bear,” she said to herself. “No way. That couldn’t be what she was talking about.”

  The light turned green and Lilly drove her car across the intersection, cranking her head to the side, looking at the bear as she passed by.

  “Just an idiotic coincidence,” she said, putting her attention back on the road in front of her. But Lilly laughed so hard her car drifted to the side and before she could correct it, she drove it straight into the curb. The front tire exploded like a gunshot on impact. She applied the brakes and stuck the car in park, like she meant to put it there. This was why she didn’t like to stray from her plan, her normal routine. Things happened. Bad things.

  She let out a frustrated breath and got out of the car, walking around to the curbside. She confirmed the flat tire and shook her head. “Great.”

  Not good timing at all. She had to get back to a board of directors meeting in fifteen minutes and she didn’t want to be late.

  There was no time to call emergency roadside service—who knew how long that would take. She pulled out her cell phone to call Colette when she heard the sound of a horn. She looked up and spotted a cherry red convertible Ferrari pulling over to the side.

  An older woman waved through the open top and yelled. “Lilly!”

  Lilly did a double-take when she realized who it was. Janet Mallery, the CEO of her company.

  She stared at Janet’s car.

  A Ferrari.

  A very expensive car.

  Number two, you will go for a ride in a very expensive car.

  Lilly paced back and forth on the sidewalk, talking to herself. “A bear. A very expensive car.” She felt her pulse banging in her temple. “A bear. A very expensive car.” She shook her head, no way.

  “Lilly? You okay?”

  Lilly turned around and forced a smile. “I’m not sure.”

  Janet approached and rubbed Lilly on the arm. “You don’t look so hot. Do you hurt somewhere?”

  “I’m not suffering from anything physical.” She pointed to her head. “It’s all up here.”

  “Ahh. Well, I think we all suffer from that.” Janet chuckled and eyed the damage on Lilly’s car. “You hit that curb hard but your car will be okay there.” She pointed to her Ferrari. “Why don’t you hop in? You don’t want to be late for the meeting.”

  Lilly stared at Janet’s car as fear struck her. Was she supposed to get in? That would make the psychic right on the first two predictions. Unless she didn’t get in. Maybe she should call a taxi.

  But be warned . . . if you go against what is meant for you, if you try to fight it, you will suffer greatly and continue to live a very unhappy life.

  Damn that psychic and her words. This was all a coincidence.

  “Lilly? We should be going. Don’t
worry, your car will be fine here.”

  “Okay.” She grabbed her purse from the passenger seat, locked the car, and followed Janet to her Ferrari. She slid into the seat of the passenger side and inhaled the wonderful smell of the plush Italian leather. She glanced over at her boss. Some of the other employees had mentioned the sixty-year-old woman had gotten the new car, but this was the first time she had seen it.

  “We’d better step on it,” said Janet. “We’re going to be late.”

  “Of course.”

  Janet was already flying down the road as Lilly tried to strap herself in. She finally clicked the seatbelt into place and took a deep breath as Janet drove like a maniac to the office. How many laws did she break? Lilly had lost count. Speeding, failure to yield the right of way, running a red light, not coming to a complete stop, tailgating, and improper lane change, for starters.

  After their arrival, she followed Janet to the third floor where the other board members were already in the conference room waiting.

  Lilly sat in between the CFO and the vice president of marketing. Janet walked to the white board in the front of the conference room, grabbed a red marker from the shelf and wrote on the whiteboard.

  Roberto Rossi.

  She circled his name, dropped the red marker back on the shelf and turned around.

  “Okay,” said Janet. “Sorry we’re late. This will be quick but I wanted to make sure I had you all here for this.” She pointed over her shoulder at the name on the board. “How many of you were here when Roberto Rossi worked with us?”

  All the hands except for three went up. Lilly remembered Roberto since she had been part of the initial screening process before he went through a series of interviews. Roberto was one of the best employees they had had until he was lured away with a big offer from another company. A good-looking man. Charming.

  But why did Janet want to talk about Roberto? He obviously wasn’t coming back to work for them because Lilly would have been one of the first to know about it.

  “You know what a huge asset Roberto was to this company,” Janet said, pacing in front of the seventy-inch monitor on the wall. “You also know that the product development team took a huge hit when he left. We thought we’d be able to recover when we brought in Erik, but we never even came close. So, now that Erik is on his way out, we want to—scratch that—need to get Roberto back in here on the team. ASAP.”