Caught Between Two Blue Aliens - Celia Kyle Page 0,3

Ms. Carmine,” Beatrice greeted.

“Beatrice, you look like a ragamuffin,” the woman snapped. “When was the last time you combed your hair?”

“Ten minutes ago,” Bea answered dutifully, and Jenna knew her sister had barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“Noah, you look like death warmed over,” Ms. Carmine hissed. Then she turned her hawklike gaze on Jenna. “Have you been feeding them properly? Are you giving Noah his treatments as scheduled?”

“Yes, Ms. Carmine.” Jenna sighed, pulling her lips into a wider, clenched smile. “I’m doing my best here, as usual.”

Ugh. Slapping this woman wasn’t out of the question.

“I don’t feel as bad as I look,” Noah offered, though his words were undermined by a coughing fit.

Beatrice rushed over and patted him on the back, holding him steady and upright as the coughs racked his tiny frame. Jenna stared at them with worried eyes, heart breaking for her little brother. He was a sick kid, had been for a long time, yet he still managed to maintain one of the sweetest temperaments a human being could ever have.

“You’re really going to leave all night while Noah is in such a state?” Ms. Carmine scolded.

Jenna clenched her jaw. “It’s something I have to do. I’m doing it for Noah—for our family.”

Ms. Carmine snorted. “As if there’s anything you could be doing out there this late at night that isn’t wholly unsavory. Whatever it is you have on the agenda tonight isn’t something these children should be exposed to!”

Dear god, this woman. “It’s nothing ‘unsavory.’ You see my outfit?” Jenna gestured at her catering uniform. “I work for a catering company, Ms. Carmine, not a drug cartel.” She turned to Beatrice and held out a hand. “Give me the dam-darned tablet so I can sign the contract and go.”

“Jenna, I have a bad feeling about this,” Bea repeated for the thousandth time.

“Yeah,” Noah wheezed. “You shouldn’t go. Stay home with us tonight.”

Jenna gave him a long, worried look, and then snatched the tablet from Bea and pressed her palm to the screen to sign the contract. Bea sighed and shook her head. The tablet made a cheerful chirp of acknowledgment and Jenna handed it back.

She bent, cupped their cheeks in her hands, and looked them in the eyes. “I’ll be fine, okay? Don’t worry. You two try and relax. Enjoy the evening and behave for Ms. Carmine, please.”

They both nodded and Jenna swiveled to face “the executioner.”

“Your mother wouldn’t like this,” the older woman remarked.

Ouch, that hurt. Jenna hated it when this woman pretended to know what her mom would think. She forced another smile. She needed this woman’s help. Ms. Carmine was literally the only person available tonight in the right price range. And despite her crazy, Jenna knew she would actually watch the kids well. “I believe my mother would be happy to see us all taken care of,” Jenna replied, “and she’d be understanding of the work I have do to do to make that happen…And thank you again for watching my brother and sister on such short notice. I’ll be home by midnight.”

“You’d better be. Don’t be late!” the older woman snipped.

“I won’t be late. Promise.” Jenna agreed quickly as she edged her way past her siblings. She blew a final kiss to the kids and then slipped out the door.

Jenna tried to keep up her brave face as she marched down the hallway. She hated having to rely on Ms. Carmine. The older woman was a double-edged sword. She was the local “sneak,” who kept her eyes peeled for criminal or unseemly behavior and reported it to the local authorities, which, on the other hand, actually made her a good ally to have. Unfortunately, if Jenna were to step out of line even the slightest bit, she had no doubt in her mind that Ms. Carmine would also report her immediately.

Jenna just needed to return home by midnight—as planned—and then everything would be fine.

She hoped.

Two

Two hours later Jenna’s arms were made of lead.

Or marshmallow.

Marshmellead?

They sure as hell weren’t made of muscle and bone any longer, that was for sure. They were all heavy and noodley at the same time, no doubt due to the hefty trays of champagne flutes and hors d’oeuvres she’d been carrying around.

She worked the grand ballroom on the thirtieth floor of Drokten Main, which was pretty darn opulent. Vaulted ceilings soared above, and wide glossy windows lined one whole side of the room, overlooking the glittering light of the nighttime city. How much money