Alien Diplomacy

could slip something in after everyone thinks the food is safe.”
    “Good point.” Chuckie nodded to me, then he and Naomi wandered away from our group, Abigail and Tim following them. They headed to the nearest bar, and I saw the girls both cock their heads while Chuckie ordered drinks.
    “The girls are reading the staff,” Jeff said quietly.
    “Good. Should only take them until, what, next Christmas to finish?”
    The music changed, and now the Black Eyed Peas were suggesting it was time to hip as well as hop. “Let’s Get it Started” blared out.
    “Glad you like the music,” Jeff said. “But try to focus.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “You’re rocking out.”
    “I’m so sorry. The song has a great beat.”
    “Dance,” Reader said. “It’ll help you keep an eye on the people on the dance floor.”
    “And the bait should be out in the open, right?”
    “Right.” Reader grinned at Jeff’s expression. “Go dance and have fun before things go haywire. You’re here to be seen, the rest of us are here to save the day.”
    “Yes, sir,” Jeff said. We dutifully went to the dance floor and started dancing. Reader was right—because of the kind of song it was, we were doing what I considered regular club dance moves, and that gave us the opportunity to turn around a lot.
    The song had definitely worked its magic—we weren’t the only ones on the dance floor. We danced for several songs; whoever was acting as DJ had great musical taste, at least in my opinion. Getting to dance was great, but since having no rhythm wasn’t a crime, there was no one acting wrong on the dance floor. So, dancing wasn’t finding the bad guys or helping us do the diplomatic thing. I spotted Doreen working her way through the crowd, meeting and greeting and generally representing American Centaurion with a big smile, and I pointed her out to Jeff.
    He sighed. “I was actually looking forward to this event a week ago. But, yes, let’s go be impressively diplomatic. Maybe we’ll stumble onto whatever’s going on that way.”
    We left the dance floor and started saying hi and shaking paws. I lost track of who was who within moments. Jeff, however, was amazingly good at this. He had his charming smile, the one normally reserved for my parents, plastered onto his face, and he was making small talk as if he had been born to it. Maybe he was. Perhaps the royal genetics carried with them the ability to schmooze without missing a beat.
    I didn’t have those genetics, however, so when a couple of women sort of shoved me aside so they could get closer to myhusband, 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.



CHAPTER 77
    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 theJoker’s Acid Boutonnière or whatever