the Zoo for the actual dinner.”
“Oh. Well. Then that’s alright. I guess.” I cleared my throat. “You know, Jamie’s birthday is on Christmas. And since we’re having her party on Christmas Day, I kind of thought, therefore, that the party would have a Christmas-y theme.”
“Did you?” Pierre asked, as he fussed with some fake pink flowers that were marked as stand-ins for the real flowers that were to arrive on the actual day of the party. “I can’t imagine why.”
“Christmas-time. That’s why.”
“None of you celebrate Christmas officially, for a variety of religious reasons.” Pierre looked at all our expressions and heaved a sigh. “You’re allowed to be different, darlings. Your differences make you interesting to the general populace. The areas where you’re just the same as everyone else make you comfortable to them. We want to ensure that everyone continues to think you’re both comfortable and interesting.”
“I feel like a reality star without the desperate desire for fifteen minutes of fame.”
Pierre shrugged. “I’m sure you do. However, this week’s festivities are among the most important of any you’ve had since we were all exposed to the world as being just a trifle more special than the average.”
“I’m cool with being better than the average bear. I’m not sure I’m excited about single-handedly making pink the new black.” I hadn’t wrapped her presents in a lot of pink. Now I wondered if that was going to end up being a Total Mommy Fail on my part.
“I remind you that Jamie loves it and we will now leave it at that.” Pierre shooed us out. “I plan to have the ballroom closed off for tonight’s festivities, so no visiting dignitaries should be offended by the sheer beauty of the room.”
“I feel so much better,” Jeff muttered. He heaved a sigh. “Okay, so what’s our game plan for tonight?”
“Not spilling anything on anybody.”
Reader chuckled. “That’s always a good choice, girlfriend. But we do need to be coordinated. This is a good chance to show how important we are politically while also showing that we don’t shove in our own agenda.”
“We don’t have an agenda beyond ‘don’t make us go back to Alpha Four,’” Jeff pointed out.
“And don’t make us the War Division,” I added.
Reader heaved a sigh. “Yes. And we need to ensure that these things are understood at a level where the majority won’t ask for everyone to be exiled.”
“You mean exiled again,” Jeff said. “But yeah, James, we get it.”
“Good,” Pierre said. “Because based on your comments from only a few moments ago, I, for one, am not convinced you do indeed ‘get it.’”
Before anyone could respond, the doorbell rang. The Embassy was large and the doorbell made an impressive sound that was piped through all the lower three floors.
Pierre made the exasperation sound. “No one should be arriving yet. The party doesn’t start for at least another two hours.”
He zipped off while the three of us exchanged a glance. “You think it’s just a delivery of some kind?” Reader asked. “Or someone dropping by to visit?”
“Most of those who we want to see drop by via a gate. Or they call first.”
Before Jeff could add in his two cents to this discussion, Walter’s voice came over the intercom. “Chiefs, Commander Reader, you’re needed downstairs.”
CHAPTER 3
“ROGER THAT, Walt. Leaving Planet Pink pronto. But, to keep the theme going, why don’t you pipe “Pink” by Aerosmith through the sound system.”
“On it, Chief.” The melodious sounds of Steven, Joe, and the rest of my boys sailed into my ears. It made the sparkly pinkness seem more appropriate. At least to me.
Jeff shook his head. “Only my girl. Shall we?”
“Stairs or elevator?”
“Stairs,” Reader said firmly. “For those of us who know the two of you well, being in an elevator with you makes us feel like we’re interrupting your sexy times.”
“Hilarious. Accurate, but hilarious.” So Jeff and I still took every opportunity to do the deed, especially in elevators. So what? It was part of the foundation of a good marriage, at least in my opinion.
Reader flashed the cover boy grin. “Besides, it’s only one flight down. If we were going up to the top, I’d ignore my delicate sensibilities and vote for the elevator.”
Three years ago, if anyone had suggested to me that I’d be living in the American Centaurion Embassy as one of the Co-Head Diplomats, I’d have asked who American Centaurion was before laughing my head off.
If they’d also mentioned that I’d be married to an alien from the Alpha Centauri