E. Godz by Robert Asprin, Esther Friesner

were true, then wouldn't the kids have given her a bunch of valentines too?
    She only laughed again. She didn't even try to answer his question, she just gave him
the same look she'd given him when he'd found out the truth about Santa Claus. It was a
horribly knowing look that said: Have it your way. They're all your dear, dear friends.
Sure they are. Trust them. Only when they make a fool of you, don't come crying to me. I
tried to warn you. I tried to tell you the truth.
    "It's all her fault," Dov repeated. "She's the reason I never let anyone get too close, the
reason I've got hundreds of acquaintances, associates, social contacts, but not one single,
solitary friend. She's why I've got no one I can really talk to except—except a refugee
from a charm bracelet!"
    "Thanks a lot," the amulet said dryly. "You think I like her any better than you do?"
The chain that usually suspended Ammi from the front of the fax machine made a
tinkling sound when the amulet trembled with rage in Dov's hand. "I can't stand it when
I've got to announce a fax from that one. The bile positively oozes from every syllable in
her transmissions! Mind you, big guy, you give her back as good as you get, but being
forced to listen in on your exchanges is like playing go-between for a pair of rabid
hyenas. It's starting to wear on my nerves."
    Dov's mouth quirked up at one corner. "You don't have nerves."
    "I've got sorcery-generated circuitry," Ammi replied peevishly. "It's practically the
same thing."
    "Well, in that case, I've got some good news for you: You won't be troubled by faxes
between my sister and me for much longer. You know what the rest of Mother's message
said, don't you? She's going to leave the family business to just one of us." His mouth
tightened. "That one's going to be me."
    He strode over to his desk and snapped his fingers. The polished glass top glowed.
Rainbow-hued swirls of energy swam across the surface, transforming it into a seer's
pool. Most mere mortals owned desktop computers that they hoped would meet all their
needs, but Dov Godz was master of a real desktop that actually could do that and more.
    "Research all available data and compile a list of key players in the E. Godz
corporation. Include prospective as well as active clients if their potential influence is
comparable. Make all necessary travel arrangements enabling me to visit each of these in
the most efficient manner possible, allowing for M.E.S.T."
    "M.E.S.T.?" Ammi the amulet echoed.
    "Minimum Essential Schmooze Time," Dov replied. "I want to depart today by—" He
consulted his wristwatch. Then he noticed that it wasn't there. He'd taken it off for his
aromatherapy-massage session. "Oh, hell, I'll leave at six. Make New Orleans my first
stop and get a really good dinner before getting down to business. No way New Orleans
won't make the list." He glanced at the still-swirling desktop. "Stream the appropriate
documents to my palmtop. Copy that?"
    The desk uttered a soft, almost voluptuous sigh and in the voice of the divine Diana
Rigg replied, "Anything you say, Dov."
    Dov grinned. "I never get tired of that."
    "I do," Ammi said petulantly.
    "Jealous?" Dov's grin widened. "Too bad. And now it's back to the fax for you." He
headed for the machine, intent on replacing the moody amulet.
    "Wait a minute!" Ammi protested. "Don't put me back there! Take me with you!"
    "Why?"
    "I can provide remote access for all fax messages that might arrive in your absence."
    "My palmtop already has that capability."
    "I'm a portable firewall. You can stick me on your hotel phone and I'll screen all your
calls."
    "Nothing a discretionary shielding spell can't do."
    By now the little amulet was grasping at straws. "Take me into any jewelry store and
have them chip off as many bits of me as you want. Drop them off on the clients and
you'll be able to eavesdrop on everything they're up to even after you're long gone!"
    Dov clicked his tongue and