Her face brightened. "I ran into Jea--" she checked her speech. "A friend." She pointed back over her shoulder at the dark-haired handsome man talking with Diltz near the door. He kept his hands in the pockets of his sport coat. "We ran into each other last night and started talking. Before we knew what happened, we were in Luzern."

"You know that is just fucking great," I said starting to lose my temper again. "I'm hours away from the most important undertaking in my life, in my lives," I corrected, "and you're off partying and chumming it up with your 'friend', "I said bitterly.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, take a second and relax. You're carrying on like you're going to face the Spanish Inquisition. I've been talking about your situation a bit with 'my friend' and I've decided that it's best that you enter this process with a minimum of preparation so that all your responses will be automatic and sincere."

I could barely control the anger welling up inside me. I knew her story was bullshit. She hadn't thought of me or any preparations concerning me until she walked through that front door. I knew she was lying, a good liar can always tell, but what could I do? There was no way I could rebuke her. I was at her mercy and she knew it. I forced the bitter resentment back down into my stomach. "Maybe you're right," I conceded falsely.

"Are you excited?" she asked smiling.

"I'm nervous. Mr. Diltz and I were just sitting down to eat. Why don't you join us?"

"Oh, I can't. I'm going to catch a quick bite with the others then I have to make some necessary preparations. I'll come and get you when everything is ready.

"We're not late are we?" she asked Diltz.

"No, your timing is perfect Madame. It's inside waiting for you."

"Great. I'll see you in a bit," she said, kissing me on the cheek.

I didn't notice Mr. Diltz walk up behind me as I watched Poppy and her friend enter the dining room. "Are you ready?"

"Huh?" I said startled.

"Dinner sir. Are you ready?"

"Yeah, let's eat."

I watched Diltz eat after I had put a few mouthfuls of food into my nervous stomach. The muscles in his long gaunt jaws rippled as he chewed. The rumble of loud voices and clanging of silverware on china crept under the door. “She's right about the lack of preparation being a benefit. From what I've been told it's impossible to prepare for. It's like an I.Q. test, in the end you simply know what you know. I've asked several of them about it and they all told me the same thing."

I still thought she was lying. "It may be true but it's not very comforting," I said picking at the plate with my fork.