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professional psychic I was stumped. I couldn’t get past this message about Cathy’s errands. After a very long pause I opened my eyes and looked with a pained expression at Cathy. I knew what my guides wanted me to do. “Cathy, you’re going to think I’m crazy, but that’s all I’m getting for you. I can’t move beyond this message about you procrastinating, so I’m just going to stop. I won’t charge you for the session, because we’ve only been at it fifteen minutes. Also I think you should get your errands done before your big interview.”
    Cathy looked at me with a rather shocked expression, and finally said, “Uh, okay. That was weird.”
    “Tell me about it,” I said, a touch of pink hitting my cheeks. “Listen, if you want to reschedule for another date I’d be more than happy to try again. This has never happened to me before. I don’t understand what’s so important about you going to the grocery store right now, but that’s the only message I can come up with.”
    “I see,” she said, looking very disappointed. “How about I call you if I get this job and we can set up another appointment then?”
    “Sure,” I said, fully aware that Cathy was giving me the big blow-off. I handed her the cassette tape and walked her to the door. She smiled sheepishly as she took the tape and asked, “Are you sure I don’t owe you anything? I mean, I’m willing to pay you for the time you did spend with me.”
    For the second time that day I turned away money I could have used. “No, really, it’s okay. I’m sorry; this has never happened to me before,” I repeated.
    “It’s okay, Abby,” she said kindly. “I’ll call you if I get the job and we can try again.” Liar, liar, pants on fire . . .
    One of the pains about having an inboard lie detector is that sometimes courtesy demands you pretend not to know when people are lying. “That’d be great,” I said, smiling politely. “Good luck on your interview.”
    She waved at me as she walked through the door, and I rested my head against the doorjamb. So far today I’d nixed a guaranteed night of hot monkey love, a $2 million addition to my bank account, and any potential future business with Cathy and any of her acquaintances. Of all the days I should have stayed in bed, this one had to be a topper.
    I sighed and dragged myself back into my office and sat down at the desk, looking for something to interest me before my next appointment. I glanced at the phone and was wondering who I could call to pass the time when it rang, making me jump a foot. Grabbing it, I said, “Abigail Cooper speaking,” in my most business-like tone.
    “Hello, sweethot,” smoldered a deep baritone doing a great Humphrey Bogart impression through the receiver.
    My slumped shoulders immediately perked up, and a smile plastered itself onto my face. “Hey, there, good-looking. This is a pleasant midafternoon surprise.”
    “Yeah, I had a couple of minutes before they partner us up and hand out our assignments, so I thought I’d call and leave something inappropriate on your voice mail.”
    “Oh, and instead I get to hear it firsthand. I’m so lucky!” I said playfully.
    “Or I could just show you tomorrow night—”
    My shoulders slumped again. Crap. I’d almost forgotten. “Uh, Dutch? About tomorrow night—”
    “I thought I’d pick up some Chinese; you like Chinese?”
    “Well, see, the thing of it is—”
    “You don’t like Chinese?”
    “No. I mean yes, I like Chinese, but there’s a problem with tomorrow night . . .”
    “What kind of problem?”
    “Uh, do you remember Kendal Adams? He’s that psychic friend of mine who helped cover for me when I was in the hospital. And, um, unfortunately because of that I kind of owe him a favor, and he decided to sort of call in that favor for tomorrow night.”
    Silence.
    I laughed nervously and continued. “See, he was scheduled to be the entertainment at this wedding reception with another psychic,