Alien Diplomacy

me over to the side of no all-white or mostly white ensembles.
    This meant I ended up in a silk cut-velvet number that was fitted to midthigh and then hung loose. Low-cut back, rather modest yet complimentary bodice, sleeveless, but, thankfully, not strapless. The dress glittered in the light, not that I could tell how it was managing it. It reminded me somewhat of the dress I’d worn to my high school reunion, only it was more stately. Of course, I’d been chased through the desert by a psychopathic politician at my high school reunion. This boded.
    Sadly, this also looked great on me. The wrap, which was along the really large and wide scarf variety, was made of the same fabric only in white, but had delicate fringe at each end. It set off the dress beautifully. I wondered if I could just carry jeans and a T-shirt with me, so I could change out of this beautiful outfit when things went all sideways. But there were never convenient changing rooms when I needed them, and even Superman couldn’t find an actual phone booth these days, so I shoved that little hope aside.
    “I need to see if I can run in this.”
    Pierre and the designer exchanged a knowing look. The designer, who was a pretty, petite Japanese girl younger than me, smiled. “The skirt’s seam is actually a series of small snaps.” She showed me where to pull to open the seam easily. You literally couldn’t tell it was there, but I undid a couple of the snaps, and sure enough, it worked.
    I stared at her. “ You are a genius.”
    She laughed. “All part of the service we provide at Akiko Designs.”
    “Works for me. I apologize right now for how this dress is likely to end up looking when this event is over.”
    She shrugged. “You’ve paid for it. What you do to the clothes is your business. I already took pictures at my workshop.” She handed me a rather large clutch that was clearly intended to accessorize this outfit. It was a black and white tiger-striped number that should have looked tacky but instead looked daring, trendy, and chic. It was also large enough to hold a Glock, Jeff’s adrenaline harpoon, hairspray, and my iPod.
    My shoes were simple black pumps dusted with whatever my dress had that made it glitter without my being able to tell how it was glittering. Basically, as long as there was light around, I was going to sparkle. I hoped this wouldn’t make me an easier target.
    It turned out Akiko had done all the dresses we were wearing tonight and had also coordinated the shoes and accessories. Pierre, being displeased with the other designers’ offerings, had dismissed them to the sad ranks of not meeting his standards prior to my arrival.
    I was stunned that anyone could have pulled off four different dresses, for four different body types, in such a short time, successfully. That the other designers hadn’t wasn’t really saying they sucked, but that Akiko had said volumes about her talent, skills, and slave-driving abilities. I looked at her closely. She was very pretty but probably not a Dazzler. I did wonder if she’d gotten some A-Cs to help her, but I decided to ask that question of Pierre when we were alone.
    Our designer left with the rejects, though Pierre hung onto several of the pieces “for other occasions.” As expected, he then turned us to the tasks of primping. The less said about it, the better, but it did give me a chance to ask Pierre what hairspray he favored. I’d been wanting to know since my wedding.
    He winked conspiratorially. “Promise not to tell?”
    “I guess not. Why? Is it so expensive Jeff’ll have a heart attack if I buy a bottle?”
    Pierre laughed. “Just the opposite, darling. It’s very affordable.”
    I looked at the bottles. “They don’t look affordable. In fact, they look like the most expensive hair care products on the market.”
    He nodded sagely. “We have heard, perhaps, of the age-old trick of pouring lesser-quality wines into higher-quality bottles?”
    “Get out! So, what’s the wonder spray in reality?”
    Pierre shrugged. “Dove Extra Hold.”
    I let that sink in for a long moment. “Wow. I learn something new every day. This is, so far, the only new knowledge from the past two years that hasn’t been icky, exposing decades-old secrets and lies, completely alien in nature, or terrifying.”
    “I live to serve, darling. I do live to serve.”



CHAPTER 75
    P REPPING AND PRIMPING WAS finished with enough time for us to convene with the rest of the gang