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Authors: Jane Tara

Forecast (28 page)

BOOK: Forecast
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How ridiculous!
She’d already seen him mid-jog, sweating like a Kentucky Derby entrant. He strode into the shop and looked around. It was a charming place, filled with interesting books and knick-knacks. He was tempted to spend time shopping, but he was on a mission and needed to find Lilia before he lost his nerve.

Jack noticed a display of carved wooden sticks and stood behind them while he searched for Lilia. He spotted her across the room, speaking to a bookish-looking customer. She was obviously a regular because Lilia called her by name.

“But you weren’t, Ethel,” said Lilia.

“But what if I was Napoleon?” said Ethel.

“Everyone thinks they were important in a past life,” said Lilia. “It helps them deal with the fact that they’re nobody now.”

“Is that how you feel?”

Lilia shook her head. “No. I was Eleanor Roosevelt.”

Ethel’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. “You’re so lucky.”

Lilia pointed down one of the aisles. “The reincarnation section is over there, Ethel, next to raw foods. Go and check it out.”

Ethel walked off and Lilia turned towards Jack, as though she’d been expecting him. Her gaze dropped down to his shoes and she smiled. Perfect.

“Hello,” said Jack.

“It’s a fertility stick.”

Jack realized Lilia was talking about the carving he was holding. “Is that so?”

“Tradition says you pass it onto your children.”

Jack placed it back on the table. “I don’t have any kids.”

Lilia looked surprised. “Oh, I must have misread your energy.”

“It probably needs a cleanse,” joked Jack.

Jack and Lilia stared at each other and smiled shyly.

“I’m not sure why I’m here,” said Jack. “I just … when we met … I feel like I know you. Like we’ve met before.”

Lilia nodded. She felt the same. “Perhaps we have. Another life …”

“Another time …” Jack finished.

They grinned like love-struck teenagers. The space between them was like taffy: thick, sweet and pulling them in.

“Will you have dinner with me?” Suddenly Jack felt embarrassed, exposed. He knew nothing about this woman. “You’re probably married, or busy … or not interested …”

Lilia cut him off. “I’d love to have dinner with you. Tonight. Let’s not waste any more time.”

*

 

Rowie was in front of the TV with a tub of Ben and Jerry’s and a bottle of wine. The Grove was quiet, with both her grandmother and mother out for the night. Rowie had been surprised to answer the door earlier to find William standing there, in his best shirt, holding a bunch of stargazers. Suddenly her grandmother appeared on the stairs, dressed to kill in a fabulous red dress and gold wrap.

“William and I are off on our date,” she announced, passing Rowie the flowers. “Don’t look so surprised, Rowena. It’s not our first.” And with that she hooked her arm through the rather nervous looking William’s, and slammed the door behind them.

A date! With William?

Rowie was about to rush upstairs to tell her mother when Lilia floated past her and out the door with barely a goodbye. Rowie had no idea where her mother was going, as her dates rarely made it past a greeting at the door, but she too was dressed to impress. Rowie glanced down at her grubby t-shirt and old sweat pants. Life wasn’t fair. There was only one thing to do.

Crack open a bottle of wine.

Rowie lay on the couch with a friendly Merlot and watched TV. On some level she was aware of the millions of people having a great time around Manhattan—including her mother and grandmother—while she was at home alone on a Friday night. She tried not to think about Drew, his intense stare, his muscular back … the fire inside her when they kissed. She ploughed her way through the wine and tried to concentrate on
The Ghost Whisperer
. But her mind kept drifting back to Aspasia. To a reunion with Drew on Aspasia …

“God you’re sexy Rowie, I’ve missed you so much.” Drew pins her against the mainsail and roughly rips her underwear off. He presses his lips against hers, his tongue, tasting faintly of mint, explores inside her mouth. She moans as he strokes and rubs until … “Oh God, Drew … oh God I’m, I’m …”

Just as the orgasmic waves start to overtake her, Drew kneels down and buries his face between her legs. Hot, deep licks … her whole body melts. She writhes, yelling out his name above the banging of the mainsail. She notices old Mr. Livingstone having a heart attack as he watches from his deck. Rowie doesn’t care. She can’t stop. She shuts her eyes … Drew can call an ambulance once he’s finished.

Rowie took another swig of melancholy. Was she destined to fantasize about Drew forever? Would she ever meet anyone who compared? Didn’t have to be psychic to know that the answer to that was a big, fat no.

The front door opened and Rowie glanced at the clock—9:15. Still early, so probably her mother home after another failed date. She relaxed back into the sofa when she heard Lilia …
and a man
, giggling … whispering … Rowie bolted up. What the hell?

More giggling. More whispering. Oh God, was that kissing?

Then suddenly Lilia
and Jack
crept past the living room door.

Rowie dropped her drink all over the floor. “Jack?”

Jack backtracked and stuck his head into the room. “Rowie … evening.”

“Jack.” She was stating the obvious now.

“You’ve spilt your wine.”

Rowie glanced at her wine-stained feet. “Yes.”

Jack didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed. “Got your fax, thanks. There’s some potential job offers I need to talk to you about.”

“Oh.”

“Come on,” whispered Lilia from the other side other the door.

Jack gave Rowie a nod. “We’ll do lunch. Good to see you.”

Rowie stared at the empty door for at least ten minutes. How would she ever process that? She decided to not even try. Instead she switched the TV off and headed upstairs to bed. It was best if today came to an end—quickly.

She swung open her bedroom door and flicked on the light, only to find Lilia rifling through her drawers, dressed in nothing but a royal blue negligee.

“Do you have any condoms?”

Rowie passed her mother a packet of Durex and a stern warning. “I want you to know … I might never recover from this.”

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
 
 

Morning already? Rowie had barely slept. She tossed and turned and tried desperately not to imagine what her mother and Jack were up to.
Eyoooo … banish the thought!
She knew she’d been raised to be quite freethinking about sex, but that meant sex for her. Not for her mother.

Or her grandmother.

Rowie finally admitted defeat at around 1 A.M. and went downstairs to get a drink, preferably alcoholic. Halfway down the stairs she heard a strange slurping sound.

What on earth! A burglar wearing wet gumboots? A giant slug?

Rowie felt her way in the dark to the umbrella stand and grabbed a weapon. Then, creeping and shaking, made her way to the living room, flicked on the light and found her grandmother kissing William on the lounge. Really kissing … like two horny teenagers.

“Oh … hello dear.” Gwendolyn yanked her blouse down.

“Hello … Gran … William …”
Don’t mind me while I vomit.

“Is it raining?” asked Gwendolyn referring to the umbrella.

Rowie glanced down at her weapon of choice. It would still come in handy if the two old fogies continued kissing like that. She excused herself and returned to bed. The Grove was like a frat house after a keg party.

Morning didn’t bring any relief from the geriatric love-fest. Rowie dragged herself out of bed and padded downstairs, only to find Lilia and Jack already up and giggling over breakfast.

“Morning,” said Lilia cheerily. “Sleep well?”

“Like a baby. Awake all night.” Rowie poured a coffee and sat at the table, opposite Jack. “So, Jack, this is weird.”

Jack obviously didn’t think so. He was beaming. “Rowie, with your permission, I’d like to see a lot more of your mother.”

Rowie couldn’t resist. “I thought you saw a lot of her last night.”

“Heavens no!” squealed Lilia. “We kept the lights off.” Jack and Lilia burst out laughing.

Rowie felt like an intruder in her own home. “I think I’ll drink this in my room.”

“Rowie, I’ve had a lot of calls about you,” said Jack. “Offers are flooding in. Can I set up some meetings?”

Rowie turned back to Jack. “In light of … everything … are you sure representing me wouldn’t …”

Jack interrupted her before she could continue. “Not at all. I’m an ace at separating business and pleasure. My friendship with Drew is proof of that.” He raised a hand to say ‘Let me speak.’ “And no, representing you doesn’t compromise my friendship with Drew either. So, will I set up some meetings?”

“Okay. Go ahead.”

Lilia placed a plate of scrambled tofu in front of Jack, and suddenly had his full attention again.

“Scrambled tofu? Are you veggie too? Come here, woman!”

Jack pulled Lilia onto his lap. “You’re delicious.”

Jack and Lilia kissed passionately over the plate of silken tofu. Rowie watched for a second, and then slipped out the door before her eyeballs melted.

CHAPTER FIFTY
 
 

Rowie was in the shop alone, wandering around, silently saying goodbye to some of her favorite nooks and crannies. Her grandmother had accepted an offer from Bobby ‘Beelzebub’ Burger. The papers were about to be signed, and they would have six weeks to clear the shop. Then it would be over.

Rowie knew she should embrace the change. New doors were opening, and life was certainly presenting her with some exciting opportunities. She was meeting with Jack today to go over a contract for a fantastic job—her own show. The very thought made her want to kick up her heels. But then she’d remember the fate of the shop and her heart would feel heavy again.

She could barely imagine how her mother was feeling. Thankfully she had Jack now. They both did. He’d been with Lilia every night since their first date two weeks earlier, and already it was hard to imagine life without him. He’d turned out to be a blessing in disguise, for both her career and her mother. He was certainly the one thing keeping Lilia afloat at the moment.

Rowie wandered back to the counter and opened a box of crystals. For as long as she could remember, sorting stock had been a chore. All of a sudden, it meant something to her. Her grandmother had already cancelled all the regular orders. They weren’t buying any new stock. Rowie lifted a piece of rose quartz from its packaging and gently stroked it. She was surprised at just how sad she felt.

The bell jangled and Rowie quickly pulled herself together. No point getting emotional now. Perhaps her grandmother was right: if she’d felt this loyalty to the shop beforehand, then there’d be no need to sell it.

The customer stalled just behind a shelf. Another first timer, thought Rowie. “Can I help you?”

The customer stepped into view, and smiled nervously. It was Jess. Or an alien who looked like Jess, because the real Jess would never wear a nervous smile, or a pink shirt. Both made her look soft and pretty.

“Hi, Rowie.”

Rowie didn’t say anything, which seemed to annoy Jess. She sighed and crossed her arms. That’s more like it, thought Rowie. Not an alien.

“The thing is …” Jess shuffled from foot to foot. “I decided to drop by …” She dropped her arms by her side and suddenly looked quite vulnerable. “I came to apologize.” Jess waited for Rowie to say something, but she didn’t, so she continued. “I’m not usually like that. Not at work. My heart got in the way of my head.”

Rowie softened. She understood totally. “Hearts do that sometimes.”

There was an uncomfortable pause. Jess wasn’t used to admitting she’d been wrong, and she was burning with embarrassment. She picked up a crystal.

“What’s this one for?”

“Moving on,” said Rowie. “You can keep it.”

“I told Drew how he could get his job back. About how he short circuits your powers,” Jess admitted.

“Yeah, I figured that. But ultimately it was his decision to use that information and hang around the studio.”

Jess fingered the crystal. “See the thing is … I was so busy thinking I’d lost my chance at true love, I didn’t realize I was messing up yours.”

“I don’t want to be with someone like him anyway. Not after what he did to me.” Rowie could feel her nose growing.

“We all make mistakes and he’s a good person, Rowie. But you know that.” Jess suddenly looked relieved. “That’s all I wanted to say. So … goodbye.” She offered Rowie her hand to shake. “And good luck.”

Rowie took Jess’ hand, but instead of shaking it she turned it over and began to trace a finger over the palm. “Let’s see what other changes are in store for you,” Rowie smiled. “Do you like French men?”

*

 

Jess was back at her desk a couple of hours later, reeling. Not only from Rowie’s predictions—a French man, a job opportunity, and a daughter—but also at how much better she felt after apologizing. Being nice wasn’t so hard after all. Jess wasn’t ready to start doing volunteer work at a soup kitchen, but she was proud of her behavior. Brutal business decisions were one thing, and she had no problem making them, but manipulating co-workers because of her feelings for a man was a mistake she’d never repeat. She was finally ready to forgive herself now and move on.

“Jess … I need a word with you.”

“Sure. Sounds serious.”

Mac seemed agitated. “It is.”

Jess broke out of her
reverie
. She followed Mac into his office, certain that Mac’s desire to have a little tête-à-tête with her was a bad sign. She could feel something
vraiment important
about to occur. Perhaps he’d been told the truth about her professional
faux pas.
Yes, that’s it. And now she was about to pay. She knew it, and she wasn’t even
psychique
.

Mac closed the door. “This isn’t easy for me,” he began.

Jess slumped into a chair. “It’s okay,” she mumbled.

“Lou Jenkins from the Paris bureau hasn’t been well. He’s decided to retire. Bought a freaking vineyard or something. Your name came up. Obvious choice really, with your background, and ability to speak the lingo. It won’t be easy for me to lose you. I like working with you, despite some of the shit you’ve pulled recently. This is a great opportunity, Jess. It’s a small office, but two years in Paris and you could be heading London. So what do you think? You want the job or not?”

BOOK: Forecast
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ads

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