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emphasized his point by jabbing his fork in the air. “That’s the important factor, here.”
    “I went to one of those,” said a guy sitting across the round table from them. “It was cool.”
    Nolan looked at Bill. “See? Weirdness is relative.”
    “Your date tonight is into astrology, isn’t she?”
    “I didn’t say that.”
    “You didn’t have to. You asked the question, which tells me what’s on your mind. By the way, where’s your name tag?”
    “My name tag?” Nolan glanced down at his sports coat lapel where he’d clipped the name tag this morning. “Huh. Must have fallen off.” Scooting back his chair, he checked the floor. “Or maybe it was knocked off when that guy ran into me in the hall. I’ll go check.”
    “Nah, don’t worry about it.”
    “I’ll be right back.” Stupid as it was, Nolan didn’t want to have to ask for a new name tag at the registration desk. He never wanted to be accused of being an absent-minded scientist.
    But the name tag wasn’t in the hall, which was empty of people now that the luncheon had started. He returned to his seat. “Wasn’t there.”
    “Hey, don’t worry about it. No big deal. Just get them to make you a new one at the registration desk. I’m sure it happens all the time.”
    “I guess.” Not so much to him, though.
    Bill put down his fork and leaned closer to Nolan. “Back to the subject of the astrologer lady. It doesn’t matter if she’s into that. I saw her, and she’s hot. She’s looking for a nerd. Roll with it.”
    Nolan wanted to believe he was above that kind of thinking, but in the end, he was a man with testosterone-driven urges. Darcie had invited him to her room tonight. He intended to roll with it.

Chapter Four
    Darcie had so much fun working on Nolan’s chart and making notes for the reading that she completely lost track of time. She went straight from his birth chart to his transit chart so she could get an idea of what he’d been up to recently and what might happen in the future. When a knock came at her hotel room door, she glanced at the time on her computer screen and groaned.
    Nolan was punctual, which was completely in keeping with his chart, and she was . . . a total mess. The chicken salad sandwich he’d had sent up lay half-eaten on a plate next to her. The fries were all gone, but that was because she could eat fries and type better than she could eat a sandwich and type.
    She wore the same clothes she’d had on this morning. Her hair was a tangled conglomeration she’d piled on top of her head and fastened with hairpins so it wouldn’t get in her way. When she stood up and looked in the mirror, she gasped at the wild woman who stared back at her. She was the perfect image of a crazed psychic, wild-eyed and wild-haired.
    Walking over to the door, she opened it a crack. His spicy aftershave scent drifted through the opening. She didn’t need her psychic abilities to know that he’d shaved and showered before coming to her room. She, on the other hand, had done nothing to freshen up. She quickly estimated how much time she could reasonably expect him to stand outside her door waiting.
    Not long. “Nolan, can you give me a couple of minutes?”
    “Sure. Take your time.”
    “Thanks.” She shut the door and smiled. His voice was so solid, exactly the way a Virgo should sound. Oh, she knew him now, but she’d have to be careful not to scare him with the extent of her knowledge. She did, however, want to make a believer out of him.
    Two minutes wasn’t very long, but she used every second of it to her advantage. By the time she opened the door and let him in, she’d brushed her teeth, combed her hair, and reapplied her lipstick. The remains of her lunch had been dumped in the trash and she’d sent his birth chart to her small but mighty printer. She’d save the transit chart for another time. She didn’t want to overload the poor guy.
    She always packed that little gem of a printer because she never