you've never had your psychic talent tested and rated.'
'That's right.'
'Mind explaining how you obtained the services of a top-notch agency like Synergistic Connections without an official psychic classification? I know for a fact that agency insists on a rating. They refuse to match untested talents or prisms.'
'Batt and I have a private arrangement. I've told him to consider me a class-ten matrix.'
'But you're much more than that.' Her eyes widened. 'Wait a minute. I get it. You're not officially registered with SC, are you? You're trying to find a match outside the system.'
Nick decided that comment did not require an answer. He came around from behind the desk. 'I see you got my message.'
'Yes.' She looked as if she wanted to question him further on the subject of his agency registration, but she apparently changed her mind. 'Feather phoned an hour ago to tell me that you located Polly Fenwick and her friend Omar Booker in New Vancouver.'
'I'll tell you all about it over lunch.'
'Lunch?'
'Why not? It's lunch time.'
Polly and Omar had been located early this morning but Nick had told Feather to delay the call to Zinnia so that it would coincide with the noon hour. He saw no need to go into detail about the timing, however. Zinnia would probably get mad all over again.
He took her arm. 'We're eating out by the pool.'
'It's raining.'
'It never rains on my pool.'
Chapter 18
Nick was right, Zinnia discovered a short time later when she found herself on the roof of Chastain's Palace. She listened to rain beat down on the glass roof that covered the graceful pool and lush garden.
'This is amazing. I never knew this was up here.'
'These are my private quarters.'
She noticed that he did not use the term home. Home for Nick was still an unrealized element in the pattern of the matrix that was his carefully planned future.
He waited until the waiter had retreated out of sight. Then he looked at her across the small table. 'I'm sorry you overheard that conversation between Batt and myself.'
'I assume your decision to marry up in the world is all part of your scheme for becoming respectable?' Zinnia hid the pain she was feeling behind a forced smile as she examined the selection of salads and cheeses.
She was trying to cope with the wrenching blow Hobart Batt had unwittingly delivered. How do you expect me to find you a respectable wife if you keep showing up on the front page of Synsation in these compromising photos with Miss Spring?
She was overreacting again, Zinnia told herself. She must not get emotional. She had known all along that Nick intended to marry. It should come as no surprise to learn that he had some very specific requirements in a wife. He was a matrix, after all. Whoever he selected as a mate would have to fit into his grand design for the future.
'I'd rather not talk about my marriage registration,' Nick said in his most remote voice. 'I'm still in the preliminary phases.'
'Okay.' It was not a subject she wanted to discuss, either. She forced another smile as she chose a small cracker and dipped it into the torn-olive spread. 'Let's get down to business. Tell me about Polly and Omar.'
'In a minute. Did you really mean what you said to Batt?'
'About what?'
He watched her with hooded eyes. 'About not wanting to reactivate your old registration with Syner-gistic Connections?'
'I've got enough problems on my hands. Besides, it would cost a fortune. SC is the most expensive agency in New Seattle. And like I said, why would I want to go through the process a second time? You haven't dealt with real rejection until a professional matchmaking agency tells you that you're unmatchable.'
'You seem to have borne up rather nobly under the crushing blow.'
'One can adjust to almost anything,' she assured him.
His jaw tightened as if that was not what he wanted to hear. 'I have a hunch that Hobart is just looking for an excuse to tell me I'm unmatchable.'
'He did seem a trifle disturbed about your prospects.' Zinnia munched on the cracker. 'Especially given your somewhat stringent requirements. What are you holding over poor Hobart's head to get him to work for you off- the-books like this?'
Nick's gaze gleamed with the essence of pure innocence. 'What makes you think I'm holding anything over his head?'
'I know you, Chastain.' Zinnia selected some cheese. 'It's second nature for you to use intimidation to grease the wheels in all of your operations. What have you got on Mr. Batt?'
Nick shrugged as he forked up a bite of salad. 'Batt owes me ten thousand dollars.'
Zinnia nearly choked on the cheese. 'Ten thousand? I don't believe it. Hobart doesn't look like a gambler. I can't envision him losing that kind of money in a casino. What did you do? Set him up?'
'No.' He gave her an amused look. 'You don't know much about the synergistic psychology of gambling, do you?'
'I suppose you're an expert.'
'Yes,' Nick said. 'I'm an expert. It goes with the territory. Hobart made the mistake of succumbing to the fever one night. Casino policy with mid- and low-range players is to intervene before they get in too deep.'
'Bad for business if word gets out that middle-income people can lose their life savings in Chastain's Palace, I suppose?'
'Very bad.'
'But when poor Hobart got in over his head, you didn't intervene, did you?' she accused.
'Don't worry about Batt.'
Exasperated, Zinnia put down her fork. 'Look, Nick, if you want to become socially acceptable you're going to have to stop using tactics like those to achieve your ends.'
'Has anyone ever told you that your girlish naivete is enchanting?'
'One more crack about my naivete and I'll push you into the pool. All right, it's obvious that you don't want my good advice. So let's get down to business. Tell me about Polly and Omar.'
'Not much to tell.' Nick tore off a slice of bread from the fresh-baked loaf. 'They're registered under false names in a first-class hotel in New Vancouver. Living the good life on my fifty thousand, from what Feather could determine. I've got a private investigator keeping an eye on them.'
'What are you going to do?'
'Nothing for the moment. I still don't think they're involved in the fraud. The man I want is the one who used them to sell me the fake journal. Whoever he is, he's rich enough and sufficiently well connected to be able to afford a master forger like Wilkes.'
'So why pay an investigator to keep an eye on Polly and Omar?'
'A simple precaution. I like to keep track of all the factors in the matrix.'
'I see.' Zinnia pondered that. 'Nick, I've been thinking about something you said.'
'What was that?'
'You told me it looked as if whoever searched Wilkes's house was after financial records that could be used to trace the sale of the forgery.'
'So?'
'I focused for a matrix accountant last night. I was driving home from that assignment, in fact, when my car
