Текст книги "Alien in the Family"

Автор книги: Gini Koch

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 24 (всего у книги 32 страниц)

“I thought you said I looked sexy like this.”

“Only if we’re going to fall into bed together and you’re going to realize you don’t love Martini and run away to Australia with me.”

“Love you, but no.”

“That’s what I figured. So, go make yourself presentable even to those who don’t want to jump your bones.”

“You are so smooth.” I got up to go into the bedroom.

“That’s why I’m one of Australia’s most eligible bachelors.”

“Really?” This was news.

He shrugged. “Yeah. Just means all the bimbos and gold diggers come calling.”

“We’ll find you a nice girl.”

“No. I found a nice girl. She just chose a nice alien instead.” I opened my mouth, but he put his hand up. “You don’t apologize for falling in love with a good man who’ll take care of you and die for you if he has to, Kitty. Real men know how to take it.”

I leaned down and hugged him tightly. He held me, but not too long. I straightened up and went to the bedroom. “You are a real man, Chuckie. You always have been, since we were thirteen years old.”

CHAPTER 59

IGOT INTO THE BEDROOM and was rather proud of myself for not feeling overwhelmingly weepy. I was glad I’d had this talk with Reader already, because there was a part of me still afraid of getting married. I wasn’t afraid to marry Chuckie—the comfort level was so high with him that it wouldn’t seem awkward.

On the other hand, the uncertainty and potential risks that would come with Martini were both appealing and a little scary. On the other hand, the sex more than made up for a little apprehension.

I went to the closet. The sexy outfit I now owned two of was there and clean, and there were shoes to match. The A-C Elves really were top-notch. Decided to go for it and hoped Martini would get out of isolation soon and be happy about my outfit choice.

“Chuckie, do I have time to take a shower?”

“Yes, please,” he called. “The others might lie to you, but, trust me, you need one, unless your new fragrance is Eau de Rank.”

“Thanks ever, Mister Smooth Operator.”

“If I were smooth, I’d have told you I’d shower with you. Close the door—I’m human, and there’s only so much temptation I can take.”

I shut the bedroom door and the bathroom door. Took one of the faster showers of recent times. Of course, the rare showers without Martini were, by their very nature, faster than what I’d become accustomed to. Dried off, combed the hair into a severe ponytail, found lingerie in the drawers that matched the naked with fabric outfit. It made me look only slightly less naked, but I decided to call it a win. Shoes fit, all was well. Poofs and iPod transferred from Martini’s bedraggled jacket to my purse, ready for action.

“Good lord, do you hate me or something?” Chuckie asked the moment I was out of the bedroom.

“What? What’s wrong with how I look?”

“Not one damn thing. God, you like to torture a man, don’t you?”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, cut it out.”

Chuckie sighed and stood up. “You need some sort of covering if you’re going to wear that.”

“We’re going to Vegas, right? I’ll fit in there.”

He took my shoulders and turned me around. “God, it’s as bad from the back. Really, go put on some clothes.”

“I don’t have a wrap, okay?”

“Find one. Before I rape you.” He gave me a gentle push toward the bedroom.

“Fine, fine.” Went back to the closet. The Elves had been by. There was a light jacket that could work with the outfit, at least as a cover-up. I put it on. “Thanks, uh, whoever you are.”

Went back out. “Better,” Chuckie said. He shook his head. “And you wonder why Martini’s the most jealous man on the planet? Good lord.” He took my elbow and led me out of the room.

We got in the elevator, and I was happy to realize I just wanted Martini out of isolation and in here with me. “We are going to Vegas, right?”

“Yes. All your bridesmaids are there already.”

“Doing what?”

He grinned. “As near as I can tell, learning how to be fashion models.”

“James is having fun, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, I think he is. It’s hard, transitioning from a regular life into covert ops. Some, like your mother, do it naturally. Some, like me, learn it easily enough. Some, like you and Reader, do well with it but have a strong need to still feel like ‘regular’ people.”

“You go through this a lot with your operatives?” We got out at the launch level.

“Yeah. Not everyone can be an operative, not everyone can last as an operative.”

“You think I’ll last?”

He shrugged as our gate was calibrated. “You have the genetics for me to say yes. On the other hand, your husband may not want you to.”

“You think Jeff’s going to make me stop being the head of Airborne?” Chuckie made the “you first” gesture. I groaned and stepped through the gate. Icky as always. The stall was really nice again and familiar, so I knew we were in the Mandalay complex. I stepped out, Chuckie right behind me. The several men in the place all stared. “Wow, that was great, stud,” I said as I wrapped my arm around Chuckie’s waist and headed us for the door. “The earth moved.”

“For me too.” We managed not to laugh until we were out. “I hope that’s recorded somewhere so I can torture Martini with it.”

“Uh-huh. So, my question?”

“Yes, I think he’s going to ask you to stop being an active agent. I would.” He steered us through the casino. Like Reader, he kept a firm hold on my shoulders so I couldn’t detour to a craps table.

“Why?”

He rolled his eyes. “Well, I’d want to keep the mother of my children safe and protected and all that.”

“I guess I’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

“Yeah, since I blew it by admitting I’d do the same thing, and so can’t use that as leverage to get you to say yes and run into the Blue Velvet Chapel.”

“See, now, that’s the difference between you and Jeff.”

“Gee, that’s all? Maybe I still have a chance. How about it?”

“Lemme ponder.”

“Take all the time you need.”

We sauntered through the casino, and I felt comfortably dressed again. I had more on than the cocktail waitresses, after all. I felt someone watching us, so I did a casual scan of the room. No one seemed to be taking that much of an interest.

“What?” Chuckie asked quietly.

“See anyone watching us? Specifically, Mister Joel Oliver anywhere? Or more potential A-C spies?”

He did a similar scan. Well, his was a lot more casual, but still, a scan. “Nope, no one out of the ordinary. What’s your spider-sense picking up?”

“No idea. I guess nothing. Probably just tired still.”

“Maybe.” Chuckie didn’t seem to dismiss this, which was kind of flattering. Or would have been if I had any clear reason for feeling that we were being watched. I looked around again, but I couldn’t spot anyone paying us undue attention, not even our personal paparazzo.

We were near the Sports Book, and Chuckie turned in. “Need to bet on the ponies before we catch up with everyone else?” For all I knew, that was another way he kept the millions rolling in.

“No.” We went up to someone whose back was to us. All I could see was that the person wore a hat and trench coat. Chuckie tapped a shoulder. “Oliver from the World Weekly News, I presume?”

Sure enough. He turned around and heaved a sigh. “Mister Joel Oliver. Please. It’s only polite to address someone in the manner of their choosing.”

“If I were concerned about being polite to you, that could matter to me.” Chuckie sounded calm but quite unfriendly. “What are you doing here?”

“Not taking pictures.” This seemed true. I couldn’t spot anything remotely cameralike on him.

“I’ll bet.” Chuckie looked around and waved down a security guard. “This man has a hidden camera on him.”

The security guard looked at Oliver. “Oh. Him. We searched him before he came into the Sports Book, sir.”

“Search him again,” Chuckie said, patiently but with authority in his tone.

“Yes, sir, Mister Reynolds.” The guard started to pat Oliver down.

“I note you have a good deal of influence,” Oliver said to Chuckie. “Must be because you’re C.I.A.”

The security guard snorted. “No. It’s because he’s got more money than God, and all the staff’s on alert to do whatever the hell he wants.” The guard looked over his shoulder. “No offense meant, Mister Reynolds.”

“None taken,” Chuckie said amiably. “I appreciate the staff taking care of me and my friends and associates. It’s why we’re at this complex.” I managed to keep my mouth shut, though it took an effort.

Sure enough, there was a hidden camera on Oliver. The security guard called in a couple of his associates to help escort Oliver for a more detailed and personal search. Chuckie gave each security guard a tip, for which they all thanked him as if he were the most important man in the world.

“How’d you know?” I asked quietly, as the guards hustled Oliver off.

He shrugged. “Some things are a given. A so-called photojournalist like Mister Joel Oliver always has more than one trick. Besides, I saw the flash when we were walking by.”

“How did you make out a camera flash from all the other flashing going on?”

He grinned. “Advanced training techniques to enhance the observational skills I already had.”

“Will you ever teach those to me?”

“Sure. Your mother taught me most of them.” Always the way. Mom trained everyone but me, it sometimes seemed. Chuckie laughed at my expression. “But after your honeymoon.”

We left the Sports Book and went to THEhotel and up to the top floor. Chuckie headed us toward his side of the floor. “Um, I’m in the other gigantic room.”

“Yes, but Reader and your bridesmaids are not. So if you want to go cheat on Martini with me, your room is the right spot. If you want to hook up with the others and get the dresses straightened out, you have to go to my room. I’m sure you know my vote.”

“Oh, fine. Your room.”

“Step one of my master plan is achieved. She foolishly believed me.” He opened the door and I saw—what looked like an entire wedding boutique.

“Um, Chuckie?”

He led me inside. “Have I mentioned that I’m really rich, the Martini family is really rich, and you’re all still, technically, C.I.A. operatives? I mean, the aliens are still here, and until they safely leave or sign the ‘we love the Earth’ oath, you all, by Martini’s agreement and the original ‘we A-Cs love the Earth’ agreement, still work for me.”

I looked up at him. He was grinning. “You really are a great guy.”

“Yeah. That and three bucks will get me a small latte I get to drink alone.” He kissed my forehead. “I console myself with the fact that I get to watch the modeling session, seeing as I am representing the groom’s interests and allowed final say.”

“Wow. Money really does change everything.”

CHAPTER 60

“KITTY!” MY NAME WAS SHRIEKED by seven women in unison. This unison thing was getting out of hand.

Maybe it was wedding related.

I looked around. They were all giggling and laughing. Each one of them was in a different formal dress, and they seemed to be having a great time. “You guys aren’t drinking, are you?”

“Well, duh,” Lorraine said. “Serene, Claudia, and I can’t.”

Queen Renata smiled. “The rest of us decided to err on the side of safety. But Charles ordered delicious sparkling apple cider.”

“Oh, good.”

“Cheapest party I’ve ever thrown,” Chuckie said with a grin, as he filled up everyone’s glasses and gave me one. Crystal champagne glasses. I felt like a real grown up teenybopper.

Reader came out from the bedroom. “Okay, the gals are in a variety of bridesmaid dresses. You can’t really choose theirs until we have yours.”

“Hi, James, good to see you.”

“Yeah, on a schedule here. Chop-chop.” He grabbed me and pulled me into the bedroom. I expected some questions about Chuckie. I saw a long, mobile clothing rack with a lot of white dresses hanging on it. “I have an assortment here. I want to see you in all of them, even if you fall in love with one immediately. Got it?”

“Um . . .”

“Don’t worry about shoes or lingerie. Just go commando while trying them on; we’ll get appropriate lingerie once we’ve picked the dress and, of course, same with shoes. No worries about fitting, your breasts are perky enough that you can get away with no bra in at least half of these dresses, and you’ll be good enough to test in the rest.”

“Um . . .”

“Oh, same with veil. I’m not sure I want you in one in the first place, but it’ll depend on the dress.”

“Um . . .”

He took my glass out of my hand. “Right. This is a no-no around these dresses. You can have some in between changes.”

“Um . . .”

“Call me if you need to be zipped up. The girls are a little giddy, and I don’t want any rips or tears. The rejects have to go back.”

“Um . . .”

“What?”

“Where did these come from?”

He grinned. “I still have contacts, babe. Designers are really cutthroat and competitive. Just told them I had a friend marrying into a lot of money who needed to look beyond beautiful and who might, you know, have some paparazzi at her wedding. Amazing what showed up as options.”

“We’re having paparazzi?” I wasn’t putting anything past Reader or Chuckie right now. And Mister Joel Oliver certainly seemed capable of getting out of the clutches of the law with ease.

I got the cover-boy grin. “You do understand the definition of ‘might,’ don’t you? Now get out of that great outfit I picked for you and into the designer dresses I ordered for you.”

He zipped out of the room, taking my cider, and shut the door behind him. I stared at the dresses. I stared some more. I contemplated where to start. Had no idea.

Heard some more squealing and shouting. They were all having a lot more fun than I was. I was, I realized, intimidated by the array of designer beauty in front of me.

There was a soft knock, and the door opened. “Ah, what a surprise.” My mother came in and closed the door. “Charles called to let us know you were finally here.”

“Who?”

“Me, your grandmothers, and Lucinda. I told the other girls they’d have to wait for later.”

“Wait for what for later?”

“Your bachelorette party.” She said it like it was obvious. Then she sighed. “Kitten, just one question.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you love Jeff enough to live with him the rest of your life, deal with problems, worry about him, have his child or children, go through good times and bad, sickness and health, prosperity and poverty, times when you’ll hate each other, be bored with each other, wonder if you should have married one of those other options, and yet still stay with him, happily, both over time and in the end?”

I thought about it, about everything I’d been through with him since I’d met him a year ago. The great sex. All the times I’d harpooned him or he’d caught me. The fights. The making up from the fights. What I’d learned from him, and about him, and about myself because of him. The great sex. The way he never treated me as less than his equal. How he could protect me without making me feel helpless. How I couldn’t have any real secrets from him. How, when I got right down to it, I didn’t want secrets, in fact, loved that he not only could but would adapt to make me happy, help me feel secure, calm my fears. And, of course, the great sex. It was great because he was a god in bed, but he was a god in bed because he loved me and went out of his way to make sure it was great, every time.

“Yes.”

“Good. Then stop standing there panicking, get out of that Super Slut outfit all the men love, and start trying on dresses.” She took my purse and put it on the bed along with hers. “James wants us to start with the cocktail length ones. I think because he has his favorites already picked out but doesn’t want you guessing and being contrary.”

“That’s it? No hug? No atta girl? No other marriage talk?”

She grinned at me. “Awwww.” She came back and gave me her breath-stopping bear hug. “Atta girl,” she whispered. “That was my entire marriage talk. The rest is up to the two of you.”

I hugged her back. “I love you, Mom.”

She kissed my head. “Good. You know the saying—your son is your son until he takes a wife, but your daughter’s your daughter for the rest of your life. Your father and I wouldn’t have it any other way. And we love Jeff, too, just in case you were worried we were going to suggest you marry Charles or Christopher, like every other relative.”

I laughed as we separated. “You mean you’re finally off the ‘check out your options’ bandwagon?”

Mom shrugged as she went back to the clothing rack, and I started to get out of my clothes. “You checked, and your decision seems made. While we love Charles and Christopher and Brian, too, they aren’t your choice. We’d love any decent man you were in love with, kitten, but your grandfather’s right. You do need a big tomcat to take care of you and keep you in line—and Jeff seems to be the best there is at that job. Besides,” she added as she tossed me a grin over her shoulder, “Jeff seems to want lots of children.”

“Why is it always about the babies with our family?”

She shrugged as she brought Option 1 over. “It’s natural. You always want to see your children get children they deserve.”

“Thanks ever.” Tried on the dress. It fit and looked really good. “Wow.”

“James insists you show him everything, whether you like it or not.”

“I like this a lot.”

“Yes, I’m sure.” She led me out.

Got a ton of squeals from the various females. Reader looked extremely critical, and Chuckie shrugged. “It’s nice.”

“Take it off. Next.” Reader sounded like my Uncle Mort.

“Um, James? I like it. Chuckie likes it.”

“He said it was nice. Nice is fine for dinner with the boss. Nice is not fine for your wedding. Back in the room, next dress.” It was clear from his tone that there would be no arguing allowed.

Mom and I went back and did the whole thing over again. And over again. Mom got tired and called Lucinda in for assistance. So she helped me do the whole thing over again. And over again. The girls and my grandmothers squealed with joy at each appearance. Chuckie pronounced a few more nice, a couple as okay, several as gag-worthy—at least, I took him sticking his finger toward his open mouth and making gagging sounds to mean that he didn’t think they were the best choice—and a couple as deathly dull, indicated by him leaning his head back and snoring loudly.

“I thought this was supposed to be fun.”

Lucinda laughed. “I understand now why James told us concentrated and fast was the correct choice. Imagine doing this at dress shop after dress shop. For weeks on end. And not coming up with anything.”

I thought about it. “Wow, let’s try on the next dress that’s right here!”

She nodded. “Jeffrey’s always said you were smart.”

CHAPTER 61

WE WERE DOWN TO THE LAST TWO DRESSES. I was clear that mermaid style was the way to go, since Chuckie had started perking up as soon as I tried the first one. But that had been several dresses ago, and nothing had made Reader happy.

Mom was on dress duty so Lucinda could sit and rest. The three of us needed a vacation already. But it was great for girl bonding. I’d heard a lot about Martini’s youthful exploits and mishaps, so I had a good arsenal of stored blackmail. Same with Christopher. They had pretty much been inseparable, but I’d known that. I reminded myself that they’d both had a year to get used to me, and everything would be fine.

I realized I was worrying about things I never thought of normally as I slid into another dress. This one was simple but gorgeous. Mermaid style, sleeveless with straps, and a lot of fancy embroidery with silver thread on shiny satin.

“Wow, this one looks wonderful.” Mom sounded impressed. “It’ll take a while to get in and out of it with all the buttons in the back, but it’s worth it.”

Went out, got the requisite girl squeals—their enthusiasm, unlike mine, Mom’s, and Lucinda’s, hadn’t waned—and Chuckie sat up. “Nice. Very nice.” The way he said it made it sound better than nice.

Reader nodded slowly and made the twirly-finger move he’d been perfecting. I only twirled when Chuckie liked something, so I hadn’t twirled all that often. “Good. Keep it as an option. Let’s see the next.”

“James, there’s only one next.”

“Fine. Let’s see it.”

Sighed, went back into the room. “Chuckie likes it, James says we can keep it as an option.” Mom and Lucinda both heaved sighs, and Mom started unbuttoning while Lucinda took the last dress down.

“It’s very similar,” she said, sounding thoughtful. “Less . . . showy than the other one.”

It was similar. Sleeveless with thin spaghetti straps where the other had thicker ones, embroidery that was the same color as the main fabric so it was more subtle, silk instead of satin so softer and less shiny than the first. It hugged my body and flared out just above my knees. It had a short train that complemented my entire backside. Cut low enough in front and back that a bra was out of the question, but I didn’t need one with the way the bodice was designed and fitted. The back cut straight across, under my shoulder blades, the front had a subtle dip instead of cutting straight across or plunging. Like the other, it buttoned all the way down the middle of my back to the end of the train.

Mom and Lucinda stared at me. “This is the dress.” They said it unison. The unison thing was starting to really freak me out. It had to be wedding related.

I was heading out when Lucinda stopped me. “Take your hair out of the ponytail.”

I did. I mean, why not. Mom dug my brush out of my purse, and I did a full brush and fluff. Noted that I could actually move in this dress, form-fitting though it was.

Went out, wondering what the male reaction was going to be. Interesting reaction from the girls: They all went quiet, as though they’d drawn their breath in. My grandmothers looked as if they were going to cry.

Okay, great. What about the male opinion? Looked over to Chuckie and Reader. Chuckie was sitting up like he’d been goosed, his eyes were wide, and he looked shocked and wistful at the same time.

Looked at Reader. Got the usual frowny-face of concentration and the finger twirl. Twirled. Reader indicated I should twirl again. “On your toes.”

“Yes, sir.” Twirled again on my toes. Once more for good measure. “Getting dizzy, James.”

He grinned. “I knew Paula wouldn’t let me down.”

“Paula?”

“Paula Varsalona. Great designer. Great lady, too, love her.” He waved his hand in front of Chuckie’s face.

“Uh-huh.” Chuckie was still staring at me.

“Perfect! That’s the reaction we’re looking for. Get out of that one carefully, please. I’ll bag it and move it as soon as you’re dressed.”

“Um, does that mean I can sit down and have something to drink?”

“Yes. For a few minutes.”

“Thank you, Sergeant Reader. Thanks for starting me on the exact opposite end than this dress was, too.”

Got the cover-boy grin flashed at me. “You deserved to have the full experience. Just did it in a short amount of time. Thank me later.” He turned to the other girls. “Okay, we’re going to stick with the same designer for you. So, everyone but Lorraine I want changing into one of these other dresses. Should have all your sizes in here.” He pulled a rack over and looked at me. “Go on, out of the dress.”

I rolled my eyes and went back into the bedroom. “Well?” Mom asked. “What did Charles and James think?”

“This is the dress.”

Mom and Lucinda high-fived each other. They got me out of the dress and hung it carefully while I put my clothes back on. Grabbed my purse—the Poofs were snoozing. They seemed to do that a lot. Lucky things. Then the three of us went out of the room.

“Now what?” I asked Reader.

“Sit.” He put me in a chair next to Chuckie, who still seemed dazed.

“Dude, you okay?”

“Yeah.” Chuckie shook himself. “That’s a great dress. Have I mentioned that Martini’s a total womanizer, has a major gambling habit, and secretly hates dogs and cats? And children, he hates children.”

I laughed. “No, you actually said he was a great guy who didn’t have a roving eye and was focused solely on my happiness.”

“Did I? Man, am I a moron.”

“Nah, but I love you for the honesty.” I patted his hand.

“Yeah, great. Lucky bastard.”

The girls were out and dressed now. Reader had them all in the same thing. “James, the dresses are all black.” Well, with a white flower at the hip. But still, black. Gorgeous, but black.

“Yes, your wedding colors are black and white.” He looked at them with a critical eye and made the twirly-sign.

“James, I thought we were tired of black and white.”

“We are. Your groom, however, is not. He loves black and white. Several of your bridesmaids love black and white. And half of your guests think black and white is da bomb in terms of color choices. We’re on a limb by not going with Armani in the first place. Let’s not push the luck.”

“I was thinking blue.”

“Yes, I know.” He looked pained.

“I had a really pretty blue all picked out.”

“Yes, I know. It was a great color and honestly would look wonderful.”

“Then why not?”

“I refer you back to argument number one. Girls, really, how hard is it to remember to twirl? You’re not even drinking alcohol.”

They all sighed and twirled, and I looked closely at the dresses. Full-length satin, sleeveless with a plunging neckline, plunging back, gathered midriff from just under the breasts to the top of the hips, A-line skirt that went out pretty wide. Excellent for hiding tails and such.

“I like it. Not wild about the flower.”

“Of course. Don’t care; it makes the dress more dramatic. But have to be sure it’s the right choice.” Reader had the frowny-face on again. “Girls, go back, walk out one by one, twirl, go back.”

They all sighed but did what he asked. While we watched the impromptu catwalk, I polled my mother, Lucinda, and my grandmothers. “So, what do you guys think?”

Nana Sadie was watching intently. “I don’t want them to look better than you.”

“Not my fault they’re all gorgeous.”

Nona Maria sighed. “True. But you were perfect in the dress. James is so good with fashion.”

“That’s why he’s my partner, yeah.”

Both grandmothers looked at me, gave me very innocent smiles, then turned back to watch the rest of the girls do their modeling thing.

Something about their expressions made me wonder. I watched the girls more closely. The dresses were really great—they looked good on all of them, even Jareen, and when you considered that the dresses were looking good on Dazzlers as well as Giant Lizards, you had to figure the designer was fabulous. No tails showed at all, no matter how the Animal Planet girls moved. Awesome dresses. I’d live with the flower at the waist, it was more dramatic.

My brain kicked. None of the girls were disguised as human. I had seven aliens parading up and down in designer wear, and no one was batting an eye.

I cleared my throat. “Ah, Nana? Nona? What do you see, when you look at the girls?”

“I see seven lovely ladies,” Nona Maria said. She sounded like she was trying not to giggle.

“We’re very proud of you for having such an interracial wedding party,” Nana Sadie added. Considering how upset she and my Papa Abe had been when my parents got married, her attitude was impressive. Nona and Nono hadn’t been much more thrilled at the start. Now each set loved the other like true family. My grandparents had come a long way on religious tolerance over the ensuing decades. I got the feeling they were coming along even quicker on species tolerance.

“Um, Chuckie?”

He sighed. “Ask your mother.”

“Mom?”

She sighed. “Your grandparents had a difficult time believing your reasons for leaving the party in the first place. Then when you and Michael came back and others started acting like the end of the world was coming and so forth, they got more suspicious.”

“So, what, you just broke down and shared highest-level government secrets with them to stop them from complaining?” How had this woman been working in covert ops for most of her life?

Mom gave me a dirty look. “No.”

“Did Dad crack?” He was the more easily guilted of the two of them.

Dirtier look. “No.”

“Who shared, then? Not Uncle Mort!” The high-up-there career Marine? I would figure someone would have to be cutting off body parts to get Uncle Mort to share any secret, let alone government ones.

Dirtiest look yet. “Hardly.”

“Who then?”

Lucinda sighed. “We discussed it. They’re all becoming family now. That means what we do affects them. Alfred, Stanley, Ericka, Richard, and I made the decision. Richard told them. Most of them took it very well.”

“Most of them?” My voice was heading to the dog-only register. “You told my entire family tha—” Chuckie put his hand on my wrist and I stopped myself. Maybe they hadn’t said what I thought.

“That you’re marrying a space alien?” Nona Sadie finished for me. “Yes. You know, Kitty, a prince is a prince.”

“Oh, my God.” It hadn’t occurred to me that this was what Martini’s title was if he wasn’t king. “Guess it’s a good thing Jeff passed on the Alpha Four crown then.” Whoops. My mouth was doing that speaking without thinking thing again. Hated that.

My grandmothers exchanged glances. “Pay up,” Nana Sadie said.

Nona Maria sighed and nodded. “I always take the long shot.” She dug into her purse and handed money to Nana Sadie.

“You two knew about that? And you were betting? On whether or not Jeff would choose the kingship over me? You were betting on it? And Nona picked that he would?” My family. The love was overwhelming.

Nona Maria shrugged. “I told you, I always bet long shots. Besides, he’d had to deal with Carla. I mean, lesser men have run screaming away because of her.”

“Like three husbands,” Mom muttered.

“Right,” Nana Sadie said. “And he’d already dealt with our Ruth, too.” She shook her head. “I almost felt daring, taking you over the kingship.”

I looked at Reader. He was focused on the dresses. “Girls, bend, sit. Want to make sure no one’s going to bust out.” They groaned but followed his orders.

Looked to Chuckie. He shrugged. “It’s a security breach, yeah. Considering Angela’s technically my superior, though, nothing I could do about it. Besides, I wasn’t there when it happened, and Richard, as the Sovereign Pontifex, has free rein to make these decisions.”

“They were betting! On Jeff and me!”

He looked over at my grandmothers. “Did you give me any odds at all?”

“Oh, yes, Charles,” Nona Maria said. “If Jeffrey took the kingship, you were the clear favorite to marry her.”