In the Name of Glori (The Redemption Series: Book 3)

by Maeve Christopher

  “Yeah.” I found myself looking at Cisco’s bright blue eyes. He should’ve been in front of the women. He could mesmerize them. That was one handsome guy. I snapped myself back.

  “So how do I promote the stuff? Those natural ingredients make it unique, but I didn’t know what they were, or what did what. Maria made the stuff for me and told me how to use it.”

  “That’s just it. It’s a process of educating the consumer on the benefits and the experience of using natural products, and this brand in particular,” Cisco said.

  Cat spoke up. “That’s why the spa is the natural outlet for this line. You have a professionally trained person customizing a luxury product just for you. It’s an opportunity to bond with their client and offer them a unique experience—a very personal experience. Once someone buys the product, they will be back for more.”

  “So we need to use everything we’ve got to get someone to purchase once, then she can order online or call the spa for more, cuz she knows what she wants. Plus the professionals will be using the products when she goes back for her spa visits.” I sat back in my seat and pondered as the waiters returned with Papa and the lunch.

  I drummed my nails on the arm of my chair. “You already have a website for the charitable foundation, and you’ve got a list of people who get your newsletter. Plus the fan websites. We could offer them a newsletter about the benefits and the experience of Glori Cosmetics.”

  Papa took his seat. “People like newsletters. They feel as though they are members of a special club. I use them to promote my properties.” He admired the perfectly presented plate of food in front of him.

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “Maybe they could get some special offer.”

  Cat looked at her husband. “Glori could establish a loyalty program.”

  “Yeah. A loyalty program. Cool. Keep’em buying.”

  Cisco sat back in his seat. Yeah, when it came to his wife, he was psychic too. He knew she was about to come out with some blockbuster. I leaned forward so I wouldn’t miss it. Cat had kind of a soft voice, and with that accent, I had to listen real close.

  “Part of the proceeds are going to charity, and part of the money goes to train and pay women who might not otherwise have jobs. Cisco, you must be able to quantify that for the customer in some meaningful way. For example, thank you, Jane Doe, for your purchase of Glori Cosmetics of ‘X’ amount. Your decision to use the best in natural luxury skin care has provided a deserving child with a good breakfast to start the day. Or food and shelter and education for a week or whatever that might be.”

  Cisco grinned and nodded. “You’re pushing the message of making the world a better place.”

  “And allowing the customer the satisfaction of knowing exactly how she is making the world better. That is a meaningful reward.”

  I looked between the two of them. “Can you do that?”

  Cisco grimaced a bit. “We would probably calculate the costs of certain benefits our charities provide and relate it to certain purchase levels. So it would be more of a range. But it would definitely get the point across. And it would keep the customer’s incentive related to the charitable link with the foundation.”

  Cat looked at me. “Glori?”

  “Cool. Glamour for a better world.”

  ***

  A few days later I was back at my “office” at the Monchsberg. This time the conference room was full of stacks of watercolors by Debbie Lambrecht. As I flipped through the piles, I felt a nervous fluttering in my stomach. What the heck did I know about art? I really wished Debbie was here. But there was no prying her away from those babies. Anyway, she was so shy, she wouldn’t have been much use in a room full of strangers, and I needed to look like I knew what I was doing.

  The lawyer Cisco had recommended came through the door. I felt comfortable with her right away. It was obvious she knew what she was doing. That was a relief. She could guide me through this process. And she loved Debbie’s artwork.

  By the time the swimwear people arrived, I was feeling confident. When they saw the artwork and heard my ideas, we had a deal.

  ***

  Just as I finished my celebratory dance with Debbie and Cindy and the babies in the middle of the Lambrecht nursery, I got a call from Diana Black at Uptown Cosmetics. I went into the quiet of Debbie’s studio to take the call.

  “Glori, we’ve been working on the color cosmetics with some new cosmetic chemists and professional make-up artists we’ve hired for your line. Maria had a good start, and we’ve used her mineral foundation as a basis. For the Glori line, we need glamorous—make-up that’s wearable, that’s good for the skin, but we also need cutting edge fashion colors that women see in magazines and on the runway. I think you’ll be pleased. And Debbie’s package design is absolutely perfect. The products are on the way to you as we speak.”

  “Cool. But you’re still gonna have some customizable stuff in the color line, right?”

  “Absolutely. This is the ultimate line for spa and salon professionals. They can customize the look and the palette. When you see the product and the packaging and how it fits together, I think you’ll be impressed. It’s innovative.”

  “Innovative. Neat.”

  “And Glori, I want you to know we’ve accomplished all this with lightning speed. We’ll have product at the convention in Vienna. And we’ll be ready to take orders.”

  “Cool. Glamour for a better world.”

  Diana chuckled. I could see her tight-lipped smile over the phone.

  ***

  Lambrecht arrived for the morning meeting and shut the door behind him. “I was here early today to review the schedule with Betty. Pearson’s door was closed, and I didn’t know he was in his office until a coffee mug hit his door. I have no idea what’s going on, but it couldn’t be good.”

  “Great.” Clemente took a swig of coffee.

  Jimmy slid a mug in David’s direction as he took a seat at the table. “Maybe he’s upset because they couldn’t find his favorite flowers for the Commerce Convention. I hear he’s partial to tiger lilies for centerpieces.”

  As Clemente choked on laughter, the door flew open and the General walked in. The four sprang to their feet as he slammed a new coffee cup on the table. “Betty tells me the schedule is pretty well set. Is there anything that needs to be discussed?” He faced each of his men in turn with an almost threatening glare.

  “No, Sir,” they said.

  “Good.” Pearson kicked his chair out of his way and strode out of the room.

  Jimmy righted the chair. “Yeah, it’s gotta be the tiger lilies.”

  ***

  It was the first of August when guests started pouring into Salzburg for the wedding of the year—Paulo and Ellen were going to be married on August 5, his eighteenth birthday.

  Meanwhile, it was our responsibility as bridesmaids and extended family, to keep them all entertained. That was no easy task. It was an international crowd—all Paulo’s new colleagues in the music business, and a bunch of cousins and family of family, and even a smattering of royalty. I guess Camellia had some royal blood in her.

  Most of the cousins I remembered from Cindy’s and Debbie’s weddings. So we mostly hung out with them. But I did make a point of networking with everyone. As a new businesswoman, I felt it was important.

  I made sure all the women visited Maria’s “spa.” They tried some of the Glori products, and I gave them goody bags to take with them. They raved about the bath salts and oils. Maria did have a knack for creating essential oil blends to die for. My favorite was her Jasmine blend.

  Then I did a workshop on creating my signature eye look using my new color cosmetics. Even the older ladies walked out of there looking dynamite. They all gave me orders, since the product wasn’t yet available, and scarfed up every sample I had.

  Of course, they couldn’t sit still and listen to my sales pitch forever. So eventually most of them took off for sightseeing of some sort.

  Unfortunately
for me, I was supposed to help out at the stables with a tour on horseback. Like I’d be any use at that.

  I arrived there after the group had gone. Good timing. I figured I might as well go visit Debbie’s horse, Valentine. The barn was totally empty, except for a couple of horses and cats. The aroma of manure and leather wafted through the air. No wonder I visited here so rarely.

  Valentine was okay. I could relate to him. He was huge, but the gentlest horse on earth. David made sure of that. So I petted him on the nose for a minute. He was called a dapple gray—very pretty. Plus he had good manners. No biting or sneezing on people, like I’d seen a few times around here.

  I turned around to see Debbie’s father, George Aldridge, strolling toward the barn, his phone to his ear. I suppose he was assigned to the same committee as me—and like me, he probably figured it was easier to show up late to get out of doing actual work, rather than just telling Camellia he had no intention of doing anything.

  He was the last person in the world I wanted to see, so I let myself into Valentine’s stall. I’d just wait till he left. The horse didn’t mind my company.

  I could hear him getting closer, his steps and his voice stronger. He had a grisly voice.

  “The bastard will never know what hit him.”

  Huh? I was so flustered I stepped back and caught my heel in a pile of horseshit. “Eeewwww.” The sound came out of me in a tiny rush of air. I know, I know, you’re not supposed to wear designer stilettos to the stable. But I like the way they look with jeans.

  “Do it during that Commerce Convention. That’s simple enough. That’s the perfect opportunity.” George practically never laughed, but when he did it was always at someone else’s expense. Now he sounded positively evil.

  “The children…the children…the children,” he growled.

  Cat’s blue face appeared to me. I felt the blood draining from mine. I grabbed the gate to steady myself. What “the children” had to do with anything I had no idea. But my goose bumps had goose bumps. This was it. George found some way to take out David. Then Debbie and their kids would be under George’s thumb.

  I sure wasn’t going to let that happen. Debbie might lose the love of her life. But I’d see to it that she kept her independence from that despicable little man.

  From my vantage point in the pile, I could see him click off his phone and head out of the barn. Normally I’d be in a frenzy because my shoes were ruined, and well, I was standing in horseshit. But all I could think of—well, George was going to have David assassinated. And during the launch of Glori Cosmetics. The gall.

  ***

  “Cin, can predictions be stopped?”

  “Predictions? What do you mean, Glori?” Cindy was baking herself into a tizzy for Raphael’s “surprise” birthday party. Yeah, Raphael’s birthday was the day before Paulo’s. Of course, Cin wouldn’t let him go without a proper celebration.

  And since her parents, and the rest of her family, were in town for the big wedding, well, Cindy had her baking partner back. Her mom, and one of my greatest heroes, Dottie Bainbridge, was icing about one billion cookies at the other end of the kitchen.

  I took Cindy by the wrist. “I need to talk to you about Cat’s predictions. Do they have to come true? Can you stop them, if you want?”

  Cin wiped fudge batter onto her forehead, and looked at me with real concern. “Honey, what’s going on?”

  “Nothing really. I just need to know if all Cat’s predictions always come true. Can you stop them?”

  She took a seat on a stool and motioned to me to take another. “Is this about Debbie’s babies?”

  “No.” It wasn’t about the babies. It was about her husband. This had to be that wisp of a vision that Cat had. No wonder she had such a feeling of dread. It all made sense in a weird way.

  “I’m confused.”

  I couldn’t tell her the truth. “Cat told me last summer, not long before your wedding, that I’d have a beautiful daughter with pretty green eyes—like mine.”

  “Glori.” Her whole face broke out in a smile.

  “Yeah, I didn’t tell anyone, except Alain.”

  She pulled me from the stool into a hug. “That’s so wonderful.”

  “Yeah. Alain has eyes almost the same color as mine. And I asked Cat if the baby would be his, and she said yes. I didn’t even tell Alain about it till he asked me to marry him—way before we set the date.”

  “Oh, Glori. Are you?”

  “No, not now. Not yet.”

  Then I realized the magnitude of it all. “Cat’s predictions always come true.” I couldn’t stop the tears.

  “Glori, why would you want to stop that?”

  ***

  I sat alone in the dark on the sun porch. I wished Alain was home, but he had to go to Vienna to work on plans for the International Commerce Convention. Besides, Cat really didn’t want me to tell anyone about David’s tragic demise. She seemed to think there wasn’t enough of a vision to go on to take any action. And how could I confront George Aldridge? He was a bag of wind, but probably a ruthless bag of wind. He didn’t get all that money by being nice, that much I knew.

  It made sense George was the one responsible for David’s death. He hated David from the minute he learned of his existence. Cat would have been dying inside, if she knew David’s own father-in-law wanted him dead. And that he’d get his way.

  I didn’t know what to do. How would I stop George Aldridge? And if I told Cat about all this, she wouldn’t do anything but pray. And she was doing that already. No need to get her more upset.

  I resolved to do my best. Heck, I’d be at the center of the convention. I should be able to keep an eye on things. Yeah, I could protect David Lambrecht, a.k.a. “Cupid,” psycho gun-slinging assassin extraordinaire. I laughed out loud, picturing little, round George up against David.

  But of course, George would hire some appropriate maniac to do the job.

  ***

  Alain stepped into a horde of women as he came through the doors of the Monchsberg Hotel. Four hundred and twenty-four of them, and Glori was not among them. Ellen sat on the stage, giggling over an unending flow of presents, handed to her by fawning bridesmaids. And Glori was not one of them.

  He waded through the crowd toward Jimmy, propped against a wall fidgeting with his tie. When he caught Jimmy’s eye, he raised his voice to be heard. “Where’s Glori?”

  Jimmy shrugged. “Aubrey said she told her she’d be late. She had to do some photos for the cosmetics company.”

  “Where?”

  Jimmy pointed to Joe Harris, who seemed to be conducting the entire event with his cigar.

  Minutes later, Alain arrived at the so-called studio. He opened the door to blasting music, that horrid song about pina coladas. Glori was wrapped in a robe. His hands were under it, on her breasts no doubt. Rage fired through him.

  “Alain.”

  As he flew toward them, salt crunched under his feet. Keeping his balance as he skidded to his target, he grabbed the guy by the collar and flung him across the room.

  “Alain!”

  He hit the wall with a satisfying crack and crumpled against it to the floor. The other woman ran over to him.

  Alain went to turn off that hideous music. Glori followed him.

  “Alain, it’s not what it looks like. Shit. I thought you were in Vienna.”

  Chapter Eight

  Shit. I thought I was better under pressure than that. But my mind was in total chaos. It wasn’t like the last time this happened. That guy was completely innocent. Just a dancer doing a really good job. A job Alain thought was too good.

  This guy, Clint, well we did have sort of a past. He was a top photographer, and we’d worked together on quite a few occasions. Occasions that got pretty heated. Yeah, I did sleep with him most every time.

  And I sure put my foot in it saying, “I thought you were in Vienna.” When Alain turned to me, I thought I’d melt into the salty floor. His face had rage and hurt and
pain all over it. I was afraid he’d throw me against the wall, and kind of wished he would. Just get it over with. I deserved it, for being so stupid.

  Instead, he walked out. He just left.

  I wrapped the terry cloth robe tight around me to try and bind the pain. My mind was a total jumble. How could I act like that? I thought I was changing my life. Alain and I were happy. My dreams—our dreams—were coming true.

  That damn sea salt was everywhere. It cut my feet and stung my eyes. Damn mascara. I could feel it running. Yeah, even Glori Cosmetics couldn’t come up with better mascara. Hell, she couldn’t even keep from cheating on her fiancé.

  ***

  Clint regained consciousness and mumbled something about pressing charges as his assistant led him out the door. Thank God she was there to take him to the hospital.

  I was in no shape to do anything except press the speed-dial button on the phone incessantly, thinking Alain would actually answer it. So I sat there in a pile of sea salt crying and dialing, dialing and crying.

  Why in hell would I let him even begin the process of seducing me? We had some fun times together. I tried to remember what was so great about them.

  We met on Cape Cod, of all places. Definitely a low budget project, but at that point I’d have done most anything to get myself out there. Anyway, after a frigid day in a bikini, we hit the one tiny bar they had in that town. And I drank the one decent drink they made—pina coladas. I decided I loved them. And I really liked Clint. That’s when it started.

  I wondered if Diana Black had hired him for this project because she knew we had a past. Of course, she would have no reason to want me in hysterics because I broke up with Alain over this. Confusion reigned. Lots of stupid things went through my mind.

  Mostly, I worried Alain was gone forever.

  ***

  Early the next morning I roused myself from a stupor, stumbled into a cold shower, dried my eyes, tried to make myself look presentable and left the empty house. I had no idea how I’d gotten there, but when I found my car parked cockeyed out front, I knew I’d driven it.