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  “Good. You’re running late, aren’t you?”

  “No. I’m ready. Alan and I had a good talk and then I had to wrap up a few things. It’s funny. He’s far more human than I’d thought.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  He looked at her and made a face. “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing. It’s just the way that Simon and Marco had made him out, I expected an angel with wings, halo, and all.” She didn’t want to reveal the conversation she’d overheard between Alan and Mr. Yamimoto. She knew how Derek felt about her curious nature. It definitely was not his favorite of Nikki’s traits, and they’d gone rounds with each other in the past over her inquisitive nature.

  “Yeah, I know those two do hold him right up there next to God. But he is a very down-to-earth guy.”

  “Uh-huh. I wish you didn’t have to go to New York tonight,” she said. “And I really wish I could drive you to the airport, but I have to do this wine train dinner. I’ll have to listen to some psychobabble on elevating my soul through the S.E.E. program instead of spending extra time with you.” Nikki did her best pout.

  “Oh, don’t be so negative about it. Like I said, Alan Sansi is a decent guy. Who knows? Maybe there’s something you can learn from him.”

  “Not you, too? Don’t go all Guru Sansibab’d out on me.”

  He laughed. “Come here.”

  She wrapped her arms around him and he kissed the tip of her nose. “I wish you could go with me, too. But I think you can handle all of this without me. I feel we’re in a good position to go forward with an ad campaign with Alan. Simon and Marco have worked up some great ideas. I know they can drive you crazy, but when you put them together and keep them focused, they can do a great job.”

  “I know. That’s good news about Alan Sansi and this ad thing. It sounds as if he’s going to do the licensing agreement with us.” She pulled away from him and finally got the mascara tube open, only to find it almost empty. She made a face.

  “I was hoping you’d be able to meet with us today. I know you were overseeing the arrivals, but Alan and I aren’t finished sealing the deal. I explained to him that, while I’m gone, you’ll be in charge. I left some notes on my desk that I took while we talked. They’re in the home office here. If you stay in touch with Alan regarding the key points, when I get back we should be ready to have contracts drawn up.”

  “Sure.”

  “And could you do me one more favor?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “Take off that dress.”

  “Jeez. You don’t pull any punches. I know I’ve worn it a million times. I haven’t had much of a chance to get many new things since the fire. Give me a break.”

  He smiled. “Oh no, I love the dress. It looks great on you. I just think it looks better off of you.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

  “I have to be ready in a half hour and you have a flight to catch. I still have to put my makeup on.” She waved the tube of mascara in front of him.

  “Makeup schmakeup. We have time. I’ll make the plane.” He grabbed her, kissing her.

  She dropped the mascara tube. Nothing like going au natural.

  Four

  THE Napa Valley Wine Train is an experience no tourist visiting the area should go without. Nikki always thought of it like stepping back in time to an era of elegance and luxury. She always enjoyed a trip on the wine train. The décor alone made one happy to have come aboard. The mahogany paneling, brass accents, etched glass partitions, and brocade and velveteen fabrics were reflective of the finest early-twentieth-century trains, such as the Venice Simplon Orient Express and the Andalusia Express.

  Being a sort of Renaissance woman, Nikki had taken time to learn about the train and the railroad in Napa. Local craftsmen had turned the train into a travel dome of splendor. The “turn-of-the-century” Dining, Parlor, and Chef du Cuisine Kitchen cars had been purchased from all over the United States and Canada.

  The group would be riding in one of the 1915 Pullman dining and lounge cars and milling in and out of the wine-tasting lounge, where Malveaux wine would be poured. The scenery alone would be something to die for as they rattled past vineyards, the grapes just now springing to life at the ends of healthy vines. Some had dark, thick, twisted branches, while others were longer, more elegant, their vines almost reed-like. It depended on the variety of grapes the vineyard grew. The passengers would pass large wineries with various motifs from the castle-like, Tuscan-like, redwood buildings, country and farm style to old stone wineries—there wasn’t anything less than spectacular on this excursion.

  That was why Nikki had suggested it for Alan Sansi and his followers, which tonight included Marco and Simon, the Pearlmans, Mr. Yamimoto, and the woman Nikki assumed was his wife, Mizuki. She was dressed in a red and black kimono, her hair tied back with long ivory needles into a tight chignon. She looked several years younger than Mr. Yamimoto.

  There was also a nice-looking young guy who Nikki hadn’t met who sat with Alan’s daughter, Sierra, the problem child. The publisher, Rich Higgins, sat next to Hayden Sansi, rubbing her back. There were a few other people whom Nikki had yet to meet, but her gut told her this was going to be somewhat like summer camp; by the time this week was through, she’d know more than enough about each of the S.E.E. members aboard the train.

  The Pullman car they were in held about sixty or so passengers, and because of the decent size of the car, people were able to get up from their seats, mill around, and get to know one another.

  Nikki knew through her discussions with Hayden over the past week that the idea behind an elite week with Alan was supposed to be a combination of fun and learning. The fun part was on Nikki’s shoulders. She’d had to plan a diverse itinerary of events for the group. Members would have access to Alan in a more casual atmosphere than they would at his larger events, and this also gave members a unique opportunity not only to grow spiritually, but to network with one another in different “lifestyle areas.” Nikki found Hayden’s wording amusing—“lifestyle areas”? Come on. Why not just say “network for business”? Or “socialize”?

  Nikki had first suggested they do the murder mystery wine train where actors presented diners with clues after a “murder” takes place on the train. However, Hayden hadn’t felt that would be appropriate considering that her dad was all about goodwill, and murder didn’t pair well with the positive-thinking aspect of Sansibaba’s teachings. Nikki could see her point, but wasn’t there also a point to laughing a little? Not that murder was funny, but she knew that dinner theater shows typically played up the comedy. Then again, Nikki had had her share of murder mysteries. And not the dinner theater type.

  So, with the train winding its way through wine country, a smile on her face, and the sunset spreading vast rays of pink and gold across the sky, she felt satisfied that things were going as planned.

  Alan and his wife, Lulu, sat at the table with her, along with Eli Sansi—Alan’s son, who had finally checked in—Iwao Yamimoto, and his wife. This could be interesting. Would the argument she’d witnessed between them come up over dinner on the train?

  “How did all of you get involved in the S.E.E. group?” Nikki asked. Oh, there was her infamous curiosity off and running. She knew she should slap a hand over her mouth and make it stop.

  Eli Sansi leaned in, setting a crisp glass of Sauvignon Blanc down. “Obviously, I didn’t have much of a choice.” He laughed. “Considering I’m his son.”

  “Eli,” his mom snapped.

  “He doesn’t mean it negatively,” Alan interrupted.

  “Dad’s right. I don’t at all. I’m grateful that he’s my dad.” He slapped his dad lightly on the back of his shoulder. “I wouldn’t be writing my book without Dad.”

  “Oh, are you writing a book?” Mr. Yamimoto asked, his voice heavily accented.

  “Yes, on how teenagers can use the principles my dad teaches in their life. I’ve scaled it down so that the language is like theirs and they can
get it.”

  “That is good idea. Inspiritus is publishing the book?” Yamimoto asked.

  “We haven’t gotten that far yet.” Eli picked his wine back up.

  “Rich will soon be a part of the family, and Inspiritus has always published Alan.” Lulu leaned in and gave her husband a kiss on the cheek.

  “Just because he’s going to be a part of the family doesn’t mean he has to, or even will, publish my book. Dad’s the moneymaker.”

  “But you are his son, no? That make sense, but maybe you find another publisher? One who better for you.”

  What was Nikki missing here? Why was Mr. Yamimoto so interested in Eli’s book? Maybe just food for fodder, but the look good old dad was giving to Eli gave Nikki a different impression. This was not a subject this family wanted to delve into with strangers or even within the intimate circle of S.E.E members.

  “Maybe,” Eli replied.

  Nikki noticed that Mrs. Yamimoto never spoke a word, but kept her head slightly down and eyes averted.

  “I like Mr. Sansison works a lot. I want to publish him in Japan. Maybe I publish you, too, in Japan, Mr. Eli.”

  “That sounds great,” Nikki said. If she was in charge of the Malveaux Estate right now, then she needed to wrap her brain around the business at hand—sealing the deal with Alan. And if Alan Sansi was going to go global, it could be very good for Malveaux. The possibility of running ads in Japan was also smart business; she’d recently read a report stating that wine consumption had tripled in the country in the last decade, and young adults, especially women, were making it their drink of choice. Tokyo alone consumed sixty percent of the premium wines in the Asian market.

  “Yes, very good.” He bowed his head. “We are talking good deal for Mr. Sansison and you, too, if you want to meet me and listen to what I offer.”

  “Iwao, my contract with Inspiritus is locked in and I honestly think that is the best way for Eli to go as well,” Alan said.

  Before Mr. Yamimoto could answer, they were interrupted.

  “Hey, hey, finally I get a chance to come over and say hi to Alan Sansi. And is that Iwao Yamimoto? Hey, man, how’s it going?” A large man in every sense of the word came over and smacked Iwao Yamimoto on the back. The much, much smaller man about fell out of his chair.

  “Juan Gonzales.” Alan stood up and pumped the man’s hand. “Nice to see you. I saw you on the list but hadn’t seen you yet.”

  Nikki had not checked Mr. Gonzales in. She’d already left the front desk when he’d arrived. Alyssa had done those last check-ins.

  “Just got in from Mexico City. I had a business trip down there, then had to get back to L.A., wrap up some business there, and wouldn’t you know when I got on over to LAX, my flight was delayed? All in a day’s work. But I wouldn’t miss this for nothing. I love you. And Iwao, haven’t seen you in too long, man. I think it was Paris?”

  “Oh yes, Paris, that very good time. Eiffel Tower so pretty, and you, Juan, you funny guy. Got your letter today. Funny.”

  Nikki thought the way Iwao said the word “funny” the second time sounded sarcastic, and she couldn’t help wondering about it.

  Juan looked at him oddly. “What letter you talking about, man?”

  Iwao pointed at him and laughed. “See, you be funny again. You bring pretty lady guest this time?” Iwao asked.

  Juan started laughing. “Nah, it gets to be too much cash you know? Lots of dinero for pretty ladies. Lots. But you know that.” He shook his head and looked squarely at Mrs. Yamimoto.

  Alan sat quietly and seemed to be studying Juan.

  “Oh hey, look here, we got fresh blood in the group.” Juan stretched out his hand to shake Nikki’s. He let out a low whistle. “Nice.”

  Nikki clamped down on her jaw, again asking herself how in the hell had this guy become an Alan Sansi follower. Then again, she glanced over at Marco and Simon and couldn’t help wondering the same thing. Was this group really more about people who actually lacked the most in spirituality, life advancement, positive thinking—whatever it was being called these days—who searched it out and spent every last dime and minute trying to reach a state of Nirvana? Or was it about something else?

  “Ms. Sands is actually our coordinator this week,” Alan said. “She’s done an amazing job from what I read of the itinerary. We’re truly grateful for her participation in helping us all grow.”

  “Cool. You’ll be converted yet. This stuff works. Ask Iwao. He knows, right, buddy?” He smacked him hard again on the back.

  Iwao winced. “Oh yes. Sansi system work real good.”

  “Yeah, hey, you seen Rube? He’s here with that wife of his. She’s a treat, huh?”

  Nikki assumed he meant the Pearlmans. “Good thing she isn’t always around, for Rube’s sake.”

  “It’s always so nice to see you, Juan.” Lulu picked up her wineglass.

  “You, too, Mrs. Sansi. Nice to see everyone again. And the newbies, that’s always good. New blood is always good. I better get back to my table. My stomach isn’t working real good right now. I think I’m feeling starved,” Juan said.

  Nikki pointed to the servers, who were now beginning to come down the car’s aisle and serve delicious entrees. Nikki had ordered the grilled prawns marinated in a Serrano lime sauce. “I think you must be right about the S.E.E. program.” She knew she was schmoozing, but if that’s what it would take to help Malveaux Estate, then she’d do it. Nikki had her own selfish reasons for wanting to pave the way for a deal to close between Alan and Derek. She wanted Derek to be proud of her. She didn’t want to blow it. “You asked for food, Juan, and now you’re receiving it.”

  Everyone laughed. “You’re good. You’ll get this,” Juan said. “I better get back to my table but I had to come say hi. I got some new guy at my table, Kurt Kensington. Boy, that guy definitely needs some of the Sansi spirit. He’s kind of full of himself. And you might want to watch him, Alan and Mrs. Sansi. He’s coming on heavy to your daughter.”

  “It’s not our job to interfere, Juan.”

  He pointed at him and laughed. “Right. Nice to meet you, Nikki.”

  Lulu grabbed and squeezed Alan’s hand.

  Alan maintained his complacent smile. “Interesting gentleman, working his way through the journey.” He stood and excused himself for a moment to wash his hands.

  It was possible that Alan had lost some of his cool there for a minute. Juan seemed the type to shake up a person, and maybe he’d shaken the guru a little.

  There was an uncomfortable silence at the table for a moment. Eli Sansi finally broke it with, “Do you think the bar has anything stronger than wine?”

  Nikki was kind of taken aback, but replied, “I’m sure they do. It’s—”

  He held up his hand. “I know where it is. Thank you.”

  “I think I’ll head to the restroom as well,” Lulu Sansi said.

  What was it with the Sansis? Did they travel in packs? Kind of the way women friends did to the bathroom? A bit strange.

  Nikki now found herself sitting alone with Iwao and his wife. Iwao said something in Japanese to her and she answered him in a bare whisper.

  Nikki didn’t know what to do. It was awkward being left there at the table with this strange man and his silent wife. “You’ve followed Alan Sansi’s system for some time?”

  He nodded. “Yes.”

  “And what do you love about it? I’m learning what it’s all about. It’s rather interesting.”

  “It horseshit. That is what you say in United States? Horseshit.” He smiled.

  Nikki stared at him, not certain if he was joking or not. “Excuse me. I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

  “You did. This all horseshit. These people no want to improve. They want to think they better than everyone. They only want more money. Everyone always want more money. If they think there is easy way to do it because they listen to Alan Sansi, then that is what they do.”

  “But you said that you loved Alan an
d—”

  “I do love Alan. He going to make me lot of money. I like money, too. That is why I going to publish big-time guru. Lot of money in that.” He rubbed his fingers together. “He good guy, but he like money, too. Don’t let Alan Sansison trick on you. You American people all like money, do and believe anything for it. Alan and his son will make deal with me this trip. You see. I bring this horseshit to Japan.”

  Nikki was speechless. “Yeah. Okay.” She stood. “I’ll be right back. I think I’ll check on the wine train. They’re, um, serving our wines and I want to make sure that everything is good back there.”

  He nodded. The wife still never looked up.

  Nikki glanced back at Iwao Yamimoto speaking in hushed tones to his wife. She shook her head. Something was brewing here. Nikki didn’t know what it was, but it sure in the heck didn’t smell of enlightenment. In fact, it reeked of downright nasty.

  Serrano Lime Grilled Prawns with Duckhorn Napa Valley Sauvignon Blanc

  A little nasty brouhaha is mixing up there on that Napa Valley Wine Train. How will Nikki handle all of these enlightened souls? She might have to drink a couple of bottles of wine to make it through the evening. No. Then she’d become a big lush. That’s not a good idea. Nikki will do as she always does—grin and bear it and drink a couple of glasses of wine instead of full bottles. Hey, what can go wrong at this point? She’s eating grilled prawns and drinking Sauvignon Blanc!

  Nikki loves grilled prawns, and with the spice from the Serrano marinade, the Duckhorn Napa Valley Sauvignon Blanc is an excellent pair. The Duckhorn has a little Semillon on it. It’s not too herbaceous and is slightly rounder and fuller than many Sauvignon Blancs. This is a great summer dish.

  ⅓ cup peanut oil

  2 tbsp olive oil

  2 tbsp white wine vinegar