Alien Diplomacy (53 page)

I didn’t have those genetics, however, so when a couple of women sort of shoved me aside so they could get closer to my
husband, I had two choices. My first one—shoving them hard the other way—wasn’t destined to do anything but start a brawl. So my second choice had to do. I wandered off to find someone else from our group.

Sadly, I found Bryce Taylor and Langston Whitmore instead.

B
RYCE SPOTTED ME BEFORE I
could move on. “Ambassador!” He reached out and grabbed me, pulling me near to him and Whitmore. “Great to see you. Lovely dress.” He examined it critically. “I haven’t seen one like that before,” he admitted.

“Thank you. I’m wearing a private design.”

Bryce and Whitmore both looked impressed. “
Très belle, mademoiselle
,” Bryce said with a wink.

I decided to let his little French flirty phrase go unnoticed, especially since I hadn’t been a mademoiselle for a year now, and he knew it.

“Lovely choice,” Whitmore said. “Now, I know the others would like a chance to chat with you.”

“Others?” Whitmore and Bryce each took an arm and led me off to a clutch of other people. Sure enough, it was the majority of my pals from the Washington Wife class and their mates. And I was alone, with no buffer.

Marion Villanova and Guy Gadoire, along with Leslie and Vance, were nowhere to be seen. Madeline Cartwright was also missing. I wondered if this was too “wild” a party for her, but I figured she was just around somewhere that I hadn’t seen.

Everyone else who’d dropped by to bother us yesterday was in attendance, including Lillian “Joker Jaws” Culver. She was in a bright red dress, wearing bright red lipstick, both of which made her skin look extremely pale. Her hair was pulled back into a chignon that should have looked chic, only it and the dress were both emphasizing how bony and angular she was. She gave me a beaming smile, and I had to stop myself from jumping back to avoid the
Joker’s Acid Boutonnière or whatever other tricks she had about her person.

Esteban Cantu gave me a charming, oily smile. Either his date was elsewhere or he’d come to the event stag. “Ambassador Martini, lovely to see you.”

The rest of the Cabal of Evil shared their joy at my presence, other than Nathalie Gagnon-Brewer, who, formal affair or not, apparently couldn’t stop going for the high score on Angry Birds.

Lydia Montgomery was here, looking both excited and a little intimidated—like the new kid at school who’d expected to be relegated to the ranks of the Losers but was, instead, being welcomed into the Cool Kids Club and wasn’t sure if it would last or end up as the cruelest of jokes. Eugene was nowhere to be seen. I wondered if he was in the bathroom, puking his guts out, and envied him if he was.

“Hi. Great to see you all, but I need to find my husband.” I hoped Superman, Batman, or the Flash would show up soon. I needed some support from the rest of the Justice League or the X-Men. Even Wolverine would’ve been overwhelmed by this mob.

“Oh, but we want a chance to get to know you,” Brewer said. “We have so much we can offer American Centaurion.” He nudged Nathalie, almost imperceptibly, and she nodded, still engrossed with her cell phone.

“And there’s so much you can offer in return,” Kramer added. Marcia was hanging on his arm and nodded enthusiastically, no nudging necessary.

“You’ve always struck me as much more…reasonable than your husband,” Armstrong added. I noted that Armstrong’s wife, which I knew he had, was nowhere around. So either she was with Cantu’s date, or she was home.

Lydia nodded loyally. “Eugene says you’re the real brains behind the American Centaurion mission.”

I realized that I had three senators and a representative, let alone several other political movers and shakers, who were all under the impression that I was the weak link for American Centaurion and susceptible to their flattery and bribes. The idea was somewhat hilarious, but also insulting, and it made me mad. Good. Mad was a lot better for me than intimidated.

“We do our best to be as reasonable as possible,” I said, while contemplating my escape route. “However, we don’t find that same mindset often reciprocated.”

Amazing. I wanted to tell them to go to hell, but instead, I was
being all polite and deflecting like a pro. No one in the Washington Wife class, Mrs. Darcy Lockwood or myself in particular, would have ever believed I’d heard a word. But make me mad and put me into this situation, and here it was, flowing out as if I’d actually studied for this final exam.

The others nodded, frowny faces of support and concern plastered on. On Joker Jaws, in particular, this was not a good look. “We want to
help
you,” she said, oozing sincerity like no truly sincere person ever does. “We can all remember how
hard
it can be here, when you’re first starting out.”

“It’s so difficult to know who your friends are or aren’t,” Cantu added. “There are so many times you think someone you’ve known for years is on your side, only to find out they aren’t.” Wow, he was going for the Wedge of Separation between me and Chuckie awfully fast. This seemed especially odd since I was pretty sure he was at least involved with, if not in charge of, Operation Assassination.

“Oh, we do understand that allegiances can shift,” I allowed. “However, we’re very careful to not make quick decisions on matters of policy.”

“You’re such a progressive country,” Lydia added earnestly. “Your religious leader, for example.” The others nodded.

“Yes?” I was going to make them come out and say it. Why not? I still had no clear, gracious way to escape.

“Very progressive,” Whitmore said. “More progressive than many feel comfortable with, of course.”

“Really? How so?” I channeled Serene and ensured I looked and sounded as innocent and naïve as possible.

They all stared at me. “Um, ah, your country’s stance on many…social issues,” Brewer said. “Very…liberal.”

“Oh?”

“And yet,” Armstrong said smoothly, “your country seems quite…conservative on defense issues.”

“Do we?”

The group staring continued. My Washington Wife classmates, in particular, seemed shocked. Clearly, my answers weren’t what they’d been expecting. Good.

Bryce tried the flattery approach again. “You look beautiful.”

“You’re too kind. What’s Leslie wearing?” It was a cheap shot, I had to admit, but I enjoyed it.

Bryce looked shocked and a little panicked, but he scrambled well. “Something that looks great on her.” I managed not to smirk. I figured the last time he’d seen Leslie was when they’d walked
through the door, and I doubted that he’d paid any attention to her clothing choices.

“Bryce is right,” Marcia said quickly. “You’re in a great dress.” She sounded somewhat envious.

I wasn’t sure if she was faking it or not, but something in her tone caused Nathalie to look up. She looked me up and down. “Your dress is beautiful, and it fits you perfectly, both in tailoring and style. If I may ask, who did the design?”

She was a former fashion model, so it didn’t surprise me that she wanted to know. “Akiko Designs. She’s an up-and-comer.”

Nathalie’s eyes widened. “You took quite a chance.”

“Did I?” I laughed. “Didn’t seem like it. She’s extremely talented. I’m sure she’s going to be big.”

Nathalie smiled. “Ah, very wise. Claim her as yours now, before someone else can snap her up.” She nodded as though we were fashion insiders, then went back to Angry Birds before I could share that I hadn’t snapped anyone up, and the designer was free to have as many clients as she wanted.

Abner took a shot at getting the conversation back onto the track the rest of them wanted. “You know, Kitty, everyone here can help you navigate through the intricacies of D.C. life. After all, as Missus Lockwood says, we’re all in this together.”

“Are we?”

Joker Jaws gave her husband a sharp look. “Absolutely,” she said.

“Great. Then maybe you can tell me something I’m curious about.” They all nodded eagerly. I made sure I was able to see all their expressions. “I’m wondering if Titan Security is one of your clients.”

Cantu and Armstrong both twitched, just a little. Bryce and Whitmore’s smiles froze. Culver paused just a little too long before she put her Joker smile back on. “How do you mean?” she asked.

“They’re here in full force, aren’t they? I think it’s pretty impressive, and I’m wondering if you helped them get the contract.”

“Oh, thank you.” She preened and I congratulated myself. “Yes, they’re one of the many fine companies I represent. Just as I’d like to represent American Centaurion.”

Really? She wanted to land us as a client? Maybe. After all, whoever controlled the A-Cs had a better shot at turning us into the War Division. However, while my suspicions about Cantu and company were confirmed, it wasn’t the proof Mom or Chuckie were going to need. It was also a safe bet that none of these people would
be pulling whatever triggers—the kill order had already gone out, at least so far as we knew.

“What an interesting idea. I’ll discuss it with my husband.”

“
Do
,” Culver said. “I’ll be in touch with you when?”

“Oh, don’t call us, we’ll call you. I’m sure we have your cards from the other day.” I didn’t believe they’d left any, but it was as good a line as any other.

Cantu waved at someone. “What great timing,” he said, as another man joined us. “Antony, Ambassador Martini was just complimenting Titan’s protective services. Ambassador Martini, please allow me to introduce you to Mister Antony Marling, the head of Titan Security.”

Sure enough, the Head Dude of Evil had joined our group. Joker Jaws’ smile went to Destroying All of Gotham City proportions. Everyone else seemed thrilled Marling had joined us. Other than Bryce, who looked sullen as he busied himself with the examination of his fingernails.

Marling smiled and offered his hand. “Wonderful to finally meet you. Haven’t had the pleasure of meeting your husband yet, but I’m looking forward to it.”

I forced myself to give him my hand. I also forced myself not to ask him why, if he was so keen to meet us, he’d spent the last few days having people try to kill me. “Pleasure.”

Marling looked me up and down. “What a vision you are.
Très belle, mademoiselle
,” he said with a wink.

It was fab to discover that the Cabal of Evil had their own little flirty catchphrase, but it really made me want to gag. I wondered if he’d stolen the phrase from Bryce, if Bryce had stolen it from him, or if it was just a group thing. Then I decided not to care.

“How sweet.
Merci, monsieur
.” Everyone, from Marling to Bryce, looked shocked that I could toss out this simple phrase in French. I knew I had to get away from these people before I stopped channeling the Washington Wife class and went back to good old me. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s been lovely chatting with you, but I need to powder my nose.” Per Lockwood, this one still worked as the universal signal for “I gotta pee.”

Lockwood appeared to be right, since the others had disappointed looks on their faces, but no one tried too hard to keep me around. Nathalie looked up from her phone again, though. “Oh, I do, too. I’ll go with you.” She linked her arm through mine before I could say anything, and we sailed off.

“It was very kind of you to share the name of your designer,” she
said as we wended our way through the crowd in search of a bathroom.

“Was it?”

She laughed. “Oh, yes. You’ve nothing to fear from me, I’m still dressed by Dior.”

“That’s nice. You look great,” I added. I hadn’t really paid attention, but she did look good.

“Thank you. You must be very confident, not that I can blame you. I heard there was a huge scramble from the design community to be the ones to get the chance to dress the American Centaurion Embassy.”

I was lost, and this didn’t seem assassination related. “I’m sorry, but what am I supposed to be confident about?”

“Why, that your designer won’t move to Marcia the moment the ball is over. Because, believe me, that’s going to be Marcia’s first call tomorrow.” Considering what I knew was coming, I doubted that, but now wasn’t the time to express those sentiments.

“Excuse me?”

“Not that I believe you have any worries. Your Embassy has many women in it, meaning your designer has more opportunities to show off her skills. If she moved to Marcia, she’d only have the one client of note, and, between you and me, Marcia doesn’t have the same prestige that designing for an entire Embassy does.”

“You’re serious?”

“Oh, yes.” We found the bathroom, which was quite crowded. “I believe there’s another nearby. Do you want to try that one?”

I actually wanted to ditch Nathalie. “No, I’ll wait. The way my luck goes, if I leave the line, the next bathroom’s line will be longer.”

She smiled. “My luck doesn’t run like that. I’m going to give it a try. See you back inside.” Nathalie left the bathroom. As she did, I realized we’d just had the longest and most pleasant conversation of our entire relationship.

I didn’t want to raise suspicions or try to leave only to have Nathalie return because the other line really was longer, so I waited. The line was indeed long, and I didn’t feel like chatting because I didn’t want to waste whatever little diplomatic chitchat I had left on ladies waiting to relieve themselves. But I was prepared. I pulled out the paper and read the article on Titan and Marling in full.