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gaze lowered.
    “That’s for sure.” Sam tried to keep her tone light. “Twice divorced and once widowed. Please, tell me it gets better.” Madame Ayida looked up, compassion in her eyes. “You’re at a crossroads.” She lowered her lashes, studying Sam’s palm. “There’s a risk that you’ll make a terrible mistake.”
    An image of Louis’s naked body, glistening with a sheen of perspiration, flashed into her mind. “I think I might have already made it.”
    “No.” Madame Ayida shook her head slowly. “You’re facing a choice and you haven’t made it yet.”
    Sam’s throat tightened.
    Madame Ayida looked down at her hand, her forehead puckered with worry. “A difficult decision. I see a familiar road and one that is strange.”
    Sam frowned. There wasn’t any sign of familiar roads in her life right now. If there was, she’d put her foot on it right away.
    “Neither will be easy.” Madame Ayida smoothed a forefinger over Sam’s lifeline.
    “Oh, great. Story of my life.” Sam forced a laugh. “Then I guess it doesn’t matter much which way I go.”
    “Oh, it does.” Madame Ayida’s eyes fixed on hers, dark pupils wide in the dim light. She seemed to look right through Sam and into some other realm beyond. “This choice will determine the course of the rest of your life.”
    “No pressure, then.” Sam stared at her palm. It was hard to even make out the lines in the gloomy storefront. Probably Madame Ayida was making this up off the top of her head.
    Those wide, intense eyes refocused and stared directly at Sam, making her breath catch at the bottom of her lungs.
    “You must follow your heart.”
    Sam shivered, which was strange since the room must be at least eighty-five degrees.
    Something in Madame Ayida’s voice reached right into her mind and echoed there.
    But how could she follow her heart when she wasn’t even sure she could find all the broken pieces? Tarrant’s death had left her feeling so empty and cold. Sometimes she felt like her future had shriveled up and died with him.
    “You belong with the living, not with the dead.” Madame Ayida’s soft voice penetrated her consciousness.
    Sam blinked, startled. Had this strange young woman read her thoughts? “This terrible mistake you spoke of, how can I avoid it?”
    “Listen to your heart.” Madame Ayida’s soft fingers palpated her palm for a second, as if Sam’s heart might be found there and resuscitated.
    Her blood pumped so hard she could almost hear it.
    She had the chance to bring another member of Tarrant’s family home to meet his siblings. Would her terrible mistake be squandering that opportunity just to salvage her own pride?
    What was left of her heart pounded in her chest. It seemed to beg her not to blow the chance to bring Louis into the family.
    At that moment, she decided to accept his invitation to dinner.
    She’d find out if he really was Tarrant’s son, and if he was, she’d start over and form a new relationship with him.
    One with absolutely no hot, steamy, sweaty sex involved.
    She realized she was staring into space. “Thank you. You’ve helped me a lot.”
    Madame Ayida smiled enigmatically. “Twenty dollars.”
    Sam fumbled in her purse. She was a grown-up. She could handle this. She could put that one accidental night behind her and start over, just as she’d started her life over after each of her failed marriages.
    She certainly wasn’t going to make the mistake of falling into bed again with a man who might be her stepson. She didn’t have to worry about that.
    Did she?
    She pushed out into the blinding sunlight with a fresh sense of resolve. Madame Ayida might or might not be a rip-off artist, but she’d helped Sam organize her own thoughts, which was probably all these fortune-tellers ever did anyway.
    She snapped open her phone, fumbled in her purse for the paper with Louis DuLac’s number on it and dialed with shaking fingers.
    His deep greeting made her throat dry, but she