"Welcome, Jonathan," Claire said as she extended her ringed hand. "And don't worry about the traffic."
She noticed the quick flex of his eyes. This initial surprise usually showed the client might take her seriously. This was important to Claire for one very simple reason. She differed from all other clairvoyants.
"Hi," he said, without his usual confidence. His hand shake also lacked the same vitality it did from his last meeting where he fired his manager at the one store not performing.
"You’re rattled, and for that I apologise. I am not Andrew. You will be impressed."
Jonathan's face drained of all colour. "How... What..."
"There really is no point asking questions. And to demonstrate, I'll answer your last question first. Yes, I take Amex."
Jonathan patted the inside of his jacket, reassuring himself that his wallet was indeed there.
"Please, take a seat."
Jonathan swept his eyes over the room and she could see the all-to-common disappointment of not seeing the crystal ball or swaying curtains or any of the cliched adornments people expect. But again, Claire wasn't like the charlatans.
"Don't worry yourself about Andrew. He's in a bar drinking, and by about 8pm he'll—"
She stops herself as the vision comes to her of his car skidding off the on-ramp of the freeway, flipping onto its roof. Andrew's neck breaks on impact.
"You're not here because you are worried about poor Andrew. You want to know if your wife is cheating on you."