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.”