Amaryllis Read Online Free PDF Page A

through the short contract. The knowledge that Clementine was pleased should have given her a good deal of satisfaction. Lucas Trent was, after all, the most important client Amaryllis had signed up since she had come to work for Psynergy, Inc. six months ago. She knew it was not only an important step in her new career as a professional prism, it was also a coup for the firm.
    Clementine glanced up from the contract. “I knew you could do it. I was just saying to Smyth-Jones that this contract will put Psynergy, Inc. into the big leagues. Proud Focus can eat our exhaust.”
    Proud Focus was Psynergy, Inc.’s chief competitor. There were a number of firms that offered psychic focus services in New Seattle, but the rivalry between Proud Focus and Psynergy, Inc. had a personal twist. Proud Focus was owned and operated by Clementine’s personal permanent partner, Gracie Proud. Amaryllis knew that although the two women had been living together in a blissfully happy union for some fifteen years’ duration, they were enthusiastic rivals when it came to business.
    â€œSorry, Clementine.” Amaryllis reached across the desk to take back the contract. “I’m afraid you won’t be able to brag about this deal too loudly. Mr. Trent wants it kept quiet. Security work, you know.”
    â€œSure, sure.” Clementine winked as she propped one leather-sheathed hip on the edge of the desk. The steel hoop rings in her ears swung gently. “But word has a way of getting around in Trent’s circles. If he’s pleased with our services, he’ll recommend us to others. And the next thing you know, we’ll be the most exclusive agency in town.”
    â€œWe already are the most exclusive agency in town,” Byron Smyth-Jones, Psynergy’s Inc.’s combination receptionist and secretary, said from the doorway. “How many times do I have to tell you that, Clementine? You have to think big in order to be big. Attitude is everything. Vision precedes reality.”
    Clementine eyed Byron with mild disgust. “What in the name of the five hells ever possessed me to send you to that positive synergy management seminar last week?”
    â€œYou sent me because you know I’m destined for the top.” Byron gave her a complacent grin.
    He was in his early twenties, lean, good-looking in a youthful way, and painfully trendy, in Amaryllis’s opinion. His long, blond hair was pulled back and tied with a black leather cord. He wore khaki trousers and a matching shirt. Both garments were festooned with countless epaulets, buckles, snaps, and pockets. An artificially weathered leather belt and deliberately scuffed boots completed his ensemble. He could have served as a model for an ad featuring the Western Islands look.
    The style had exploded onto the fashion scene a year earlier when popular news anchor Nelson Burlton had gone on location to the Western Islands to cover the discovery of the artifacts. For nearly a week, Burlton, looking attractively rugged in Western Islands gear, had appeared nightly on the evening news. He had not only focused public interest on the alien relics, he had done wonders for the khaki manufacturers.
    The young males of the three city-states had gone wild for what had come to be known as the Western Islands look. To date, the fad showed no signs of waning. A new wave of public excitement generated by the impending opening of the relics gallery at the museum had only served to fuel the rage for the style.
    â€œDestiny is a function of synergy and can be easily altered,” Clementine intoned.
    Byron made a face. Then he grinned at Amaryllis. “Don’t you just hate it when she starts quoting some old dippy philosopher?”
    â€œShe’s quoting Patricia Thorncroft North,” Amaryllis said, automatically slipping into her academic persona. “North was not some old dippy philosopher. She was one of the discoverers of the Three