Mind Over Matter

was tall, lean and distinguished. Twenty-five years in the game had etched a few lines on his face, but the gray threading through his hair contrasted nicely with his deep tan. “A wise choice for your narrator,” she commented.
    “The face America trusts.”
    “There’s that, of course. Also, I can’t imagine him putting up with any nonsense. Bring in a palm reader from Sunset Boulevard and he’ll make her look like a fool regardless of the script.”
    “That’s right.” A.J. sent him an even look. “He won’t make a fool out of Clarissa.”
    He gave her a slow, acknowledging nod. “That’s what I’m counting on. I called your office last week.”
    “Yes, I know.” A.J. saw Clarissa laugh at something Alex said. “Didn’t my assistant get back to you?”
    “I didn’t want to talk to your assistant.”
    “I’ve been tied up. You’ve very nearly recreated Clarissa’s living room, haven’t you?”
    “That’s the idea. You’re trying to avoid me, A.J.” He shifted just enough to block her view, so that she was forced to look at him. Because he’d annoyed her, she made the look thorough,starting at his shoes, worn canvas high-tops, up the casual pleated slacks to the open collar of his shirt before she settled on his face.
    “I’d hoped you catch on.”
    “And you might succeed at it.” He ran his finger down her lapel, over a pin of a half-moon. “But she’s going to get in the way.” He glanced over his shoulder at Clarissa.
    She schooled herself for this, lectured herself and rehearsed the right responses. Somehow it wasn’t as easy as she’d imagined. “David, you don’t seem to be one of those men who are attracted to rejection.”
    “No.” His thumb continued to move over the pin as he looked back at her. “You don’t seem to be one of those women who pretend disinterest to attract.”
    “I don’t pretend anything.” She looked directly into his eyes, determined not a flicker of her own unease would show. “I am disinterested. And you’re standing in my way.”
    “That’s something that might get to be a habit.” But he moved aside.
    It took nearly another forty-five minutes of discussion, changes and technical fine-tuning before they were ready to shoot. Because she was relieved David was busy elsewhere, A.J. waited patiently. Which meant she only checked her watch half a dozen times. Clarissa sat easily on the sofa and sipped water. But whenever she glanced up and looked in her direction, A.J. was glad she’d decided to come.
    The shoot began well enough. Clarissa sat with Alex on the sofa. He asked questions; she answered. They touched on clairvoyance, precognition, Clarissa’s interest in astrology. Clarissa had a knack for taking long, confusing phrases and making them simple, understandable. One of the reasons she was often in demand on the lecture circuit was her ability to take the mysteries of psi and relate them to the average person. It was one area A.J. could be certain Clarissa DeBasse would handle herself. Relaxing, she took a piece of hard candy out of her briefcase in lieu of lunch.
    They shot, reshot, altered angles and repeated themselves for the camera. Hours passed, but A.J. was content. Quality was the order of day. She wanted nothing less for Clarissa.
    Then they brought out the cards.
    She’d nearly taken a step forward, when the slightest signal from Clarissa had her fuming and staying where she was. She hated this, and always had.
    “Problem?”
    She hadn’t realized he’d come up beside her. A.J. sent David a killing look before she riveted her attention on the set again. “We didn’t discuss anything like this.”
    “The cards?” Surprised by her response, David, too, watched the set. “We cleared it with Clarissa.”
    A.J. set her teeth. “Next time, Brady, clear it with me.”
    David decided that whatever nasty retort he could make would wait when Alex’s broadcaster’s voice rose rich and clear in the studio. “Miss DeBasse, using cards to test ESP is a rather standard device, isn’t it?”
    “A rather limited test, yes. They’re also an aid in testing telepathy.”
    “You’ve been involved in testing of this sort before, at Stanford, UCLA, Columbia, Duke, as well as institutions in England.”
    “Yes, I have.”
    “Would you mind explaining the process?”
    “Of course. The cards used in laboratory tests are generally two colors, with perhaps five different shapes. Squares, circles, wavy lines, that sort of