In a world where getting married was considered a social and moral obligation as well as a serious family responsibility, she had not even managed to find a husband.
When you got right down to it, Orchid thought, all she had done thus far in life was publish three psychic vampire romance novels. As accomplishments went, by Northville standards, that did not add up to much.
Returning to Northville was a little like going back to a high school reunion and discovering that you were the only failure in the class, she reflected. The fact that everyone believed that she had rejected a legitimate match with Preston Luce simply because she liked to rebel only made things worse.
Veronica looked thoughtful. "You know what you ought to do?"
"What?" Orchid asked around a mouthful of burger.
"Bring an agency date to the wedding."
Orchid nearly choked. "Are you kidding?"
"I'm serious. It would make things so much easier for you."
Orchid slowly put down her burger. "Veronica, I just told you, I haven't had a single call from my marriage agency since my counselor tried to match me with Preston."
"So?"
Orchid scowled, exasperated. "To put it bluntly, I can't get a date. At least, not an agency date and, at my age, that's the only kind that counts."
Veronica smiled her serene smile. "You've got friends. Bring one of them along and pass him off as an agency date."
Orchid stared at her, goggle-eyed. "I can't believe you just said that. Bring a fake date to your wedding?"
"Why not?"
"I'm already having anxiety dreams. I don't need any more problems, thank you very much."
Veronica frowned in concern. "Anxiety dreams? Why?"
Orchid pushed a fry through some hot sauce. "Probably because ParaSyn contacted me again. I got a letter from them a few days ago. They want me to return for a follow-up to that ice-prism study I was involved with three years ago."
"The one you walked out on because the researchers wanted you to focus for some criminally insane talents?"
"Yeah, that's the one." Orchid shuddered.
The psychic talents Dr. Gilbert Bracewell, the head of ParaSyn, had asked her to focus had not been just mentally disturbed. They'd had violent criminal tendencies. She had recoiled from the darkness in them. Morgan Lambert and Theo Willis had also been repulsed by the researchers' desire to see if ice-prisms could handle such deeply disturbed mental patients.
It was Orchid who had led the small revolt that had resulted in the termination of the project. She had walked out of ParaSyn in the middle of the study. Morgan and Theo had followed.
"I hated that place," Orchid said. "The last thing I'd ever do is go back for some stupid follow-up research."
"What about the other two ice-prisms who were part of that study?"
"I'm still friends with Morgan Lambert." Orchid put down her half-eaten fry, her appetite suddenly gone. "But I heard yesterday that Theo Willis died in a car crash recently. They say he drove himself off a cliff. Apparent suicide."
"How sad."
"Theo was not what you'd call a friend. I don't think he had any friends. But he and I and Morgan sort of bonded during our experience at ParaSyn. He was a little weird. Maybe even crazy. But, hey, he was an ice-prism, just like me. Everyone knows we're not exactly normal."
Chapter 4
"About time you showed up." Byron Smyth-Jones, Psynergy, Inc's receptionist, secretary, and avant-garde fashion guru, glared at Orchid over the rims of a pair of glasses fitted with purple lenses. "The boss is having a fit."
Orchid raised her brows at the sight of Byron's latest wardrobe addition, a violet-colored, skin-tight suit styled with massive shoulder pads and wide cuffs.
"How can you tell if Clementine is having & fit?" she asked with grave interest.
"Very funny." Byron took a bunch of notepads out of a box and stacked them in a supply cupboard. "And completely beside the point. This time it's serious."
"It's always serious." Orchid glanced at the notepads. They were each neatly imprinted with the Psynergy, Inc. logo and the words "Think Exclusive" at the top of each page. "What's going on?"
Byron glanced over his shoulder. Orchid followed his gaze to a large poster featuring a photograph of an improbably huge chunk of extremely rare fire crystal. It was emblazoned with the logo and partially obscured the closed door of Clementine's office.
"Her new exotic is here to sign another contract." Byron lowered his voice to a hissing whisper. "He insists on using you."
"The new exotic?" In spite of herself, Orchid felt a tiny thrill go through her. "You mean Rafe Stonebraker asked for me again?"
"You got it. He's been here for the past half hour, signing papers. Clementine tried to get hold of you to confirm the assignment, but when she couldn't reach you, she went ahead and drew up the new contract anyway."
A fluttery sense of panic instantly wiped out Orchid's incipient excitement. Last night in the euphoria that had ensued when she and Rafe had escaped the gallery, she had thought it would be exciting to work with him again. Now, in the cold light of day, she was not quite so sure.
"I was thinking of talking to Clementine about using someone else the next time Stonebraker called. If he called, that is."
"He called, all right," Byron assured her.
"I wonder why. I got the feeling he was not overly pleased with my services."
"Whatever gave you that idea?" Rafe drawled softly behind her.
Orchid spun around and saw him standing in the doorway behind her. He wore a dark jacket over a dark shirt and a pair of dark trousers. There was a plastic cup of coff-tea in his left hand.
She narrowed her eyes. "Must you sneak up on people like that?"
He looked amused. "Sorry." He held up the cup in his hand. "I just went down the hall for coff-tea. You were here when I got back."
With an odd sense of desperation, Orchid glanced at Clementine's closed door. "I, uh, thought you were in there with my boss."
"Ms. Malone and I finished our business a few minutes ago. She said you were due to stop by the office after lunch so I decided to wait."
"I see." Orchid tried to squelch the embarrassed heat that threatened to rise in her cheeks. She devoutly hoped that he had not overheard the reference to exotics, but something told her that he had. Rafe had extremely sharp hearing. She managed a cool, professional smile.
"I'm flattered that you asked for my services again so soon, Mr. Stonebraker. But when you dropped me off last night you didn't mention that you had another job in mind."
"I didn't get my new client until after I left you." He studied her with an unwavering gaze.
There was nothing overtly rude, threatening, or intimidating about his gaze. He simply watched her.
From out of nowhere, the familiar hunted feeling came over Orchid, just as it had last night in Elvira Turlock's gallery. She glowered at him. He bunked, frowned slightly. The sensation vanished.
If not for the fact that it had left every hair on the nape of her neck standing on end, she could have blamed the incident on her imagination.
"I'm a little busy at the moment," she said as the door of the inner office slammed open.
"No, you're not," Clementine announced. "I've canceled all of your other appointments. You're free to work with Mr. Stonebraker for the next month."
"A whole month?" Orchid whirled back around to stare at her boss.
"Yep." Clementine, built like her favorite form of transportation, an ice-cycle, bristled in her signature black leather and gleaming silver studs. Her stark white hair, styled in a short brush-cut, was set off by steel hoops in her ears. "Stonebraker says his new case may take a little longer than the others."