Page 11 of Sweetwater and the Witch

“That’s the spirit. There’s nothing like a positive attitude to brighten one’s day, I always say.”

“Have you ever personally experienced a day brightened by a positive attitude?”

“No, I’m an engineer.” He glanced at his chunky watch. “I’ve got to be on my way. The reception starts at seven. Cocktail formal. We won’t have to stay long. I’ll pick you up at six thirty tomorrow evening. What’s your address?”

“It’s 118 Midnight Court. But it’s in the Dark Zone near the border of the Fire Zone. You’ll never find it. The navigation systems don’t work well there. Why don’t I meet you at the Amber Palace?”

“I know my way around the DZ. I’ll find you.”

“Outsiders always get lost in the DZ,” she warned.

“I’m not an outsider. I live there, too. Ruin Gate Lane.”

She glared. “According to our files, your address is in the Emerald Zone.”

“That’s my business address. It’s where the lab is located. I don’t live there. I like my privacy. See you at six thirty.”

He let himself out into the hall and closed the door very deliberately.

Chapter Four

Ravenna looked at Harriet. “Tell me I haven’t just made the biggest mistake of my career.”

Harriet chortled, selected Ethan’s pen from the tray, and offered it to her. It was a very attractive pen made of silver mirror amber so beautifully polished she could see her own reflection in it. The cap was finished with a lovely little jewel of red-gold amber.

Intrigued, she took the pen—and got a little flutter of energy. Caught off guard, she smiled.

“It’s tuned,” she said to Harriet. “Mr.Sweetwater must be a very, very good engineer. I didn’t think you could tune mirror amber.”

What startled her was that the amber had not been generically tuned so that anyone could pick up the vibe and generate a little psychic energy through it. No, the elegant pen was sealed with a rez-Valentine lock.

“Who would have guessed that Ethan Sweetwater was the romantic type?” she said to Harriet.

Rez-Valentine locks could be installed in any object made of resonating amber, but they were used primarily in objects given as gifts—small figurines, paperweights, jewelry, music boxes. Trust an engineer to choose something practical like a pen, Ravenna thought.

Objects tuned with Valentine locks were sold as a set that included both the gift and a separate item also made of amber that was designed to resonate with the frequency of the gift. The person who gave the Valentine kept the resonating object. The locked gift could be unlocked only once by the recipient. When that was done, it sent out a signal on a unique frequency that could only be detected by the object tuned to resonate with the gift.

A rez-Valentine was infused with romantic symbolism. The giver was sending a message—My heart resonates with yours. I love you.If the recipient unlocked the gift and sent the signal, it meant that the love was reciprocated.

A wistful sensation whispered through Ravenna. She looked at Harriet. “Ethan must have had this made for the woman he assumed I would eventually find for him. He gave it to you today because he realized he probably isn’t going to find Ms.Perfect through this agency. I’ll bet he had already given up on Ottoway before he walked into this office today. I failed him, Harriet.”

Harriet chortled and went back to arranging her collection of pens.

Ravenna tossed the rez-Valentine pen into the air and caught it. “So why didn’t he take the refund? Why insist that Ottoway fulfill the contract? He must be one of those annoying people who are sticklers when it comes to the legal stuff.”

The door popped open. Bernice Ottoway appeared. She was in her mid-seventies and endowed with a kind, warmhearted, grandmotherly air. But looks were deceiving with Bernice. She had not built one of the most successful matchmaking agencies in Illusion Town by being kind, warmhearted, and grandmotherly. She had a will of iron, and her razor-sharp business instincts were the equal of those of any of the powerful CEOs who ran the big hotel-casinos. She had, in fact, matched several of those CEOs.

“Well?” Bernice said. “Did you lose Sweetwater?”

“Not yet.” Ravenna rezzed up an attitude of reassuring professional optimism. “Mr.Sweetwater has one more date on his contract. However, he has come to the conclusion that there is something off-putting about his dating skills. Judging by the feedback I’ve had from the nine dates I arranged for him, he’s right.”

“That bad, is it?” Bernice groaned. “Damn. I was hoping the Sweetwater name would be enough to make prospective dates overlook the scandal and a few minor imperfections.”

“Apparently the imperfections are not so minor. Mr.Sweetwater and I discussed the matter at length. I agreed to accompany him to a business function tomorrow night to see if I can analyze his dating techniques and provide helpful counseling.”

Bernice looked skeptical. “That is an interesting approach, but it’s a bit fraught, don’t you think? We would not want to give Mr.Sweetwater or any of his acquaintances the wrong idea.”

“What wrong idea would that be, Ms.Ottoway?”

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