Alien Diplomacy

Mom.”
    Chuckie hung up. “I have people going with yours,” he said to Reader. “But I couldn’t reach your mother,” he shared with me.
    “Anyone see her anywhere?”
    We all looked. “Nope,” Jeff said finally. He sighed. “I know, I know. You want us to split up.”
    “I do.”
    The others scattered. Jeff shook his head. “You sure you don’t want me with you, baby?”
    “Well, I do, especially since the weird has been turned up to eleven for this entire shindig. But we’ll find Mom faster if we’re not together. Besides, I know you can find me.”
    He grinned as he gave me a kiss. “Yep. I’ll just follow the shocked, horrified, and amused trail you’ll leave.”
    “Ha ha, very funny.”
    We split up. It was incredibly crowded, and I was having no luck finding Mom or anyone else I knew. I spotted and avoided the Cabal of Evil, which zoomed me onto another path. I checked my phone—had a text from Reader saying Mom was advised and the Pres was stalled, so I was to go back to scouting and being baitlike. Which was nice, because I finally found someone I wanted to spend time with.
    Caroline and Michael were by a support column near the stage. Because the stage was raised and there were no food or beverage stations nearby, the space they were in was like a little alcove.
    “Kit-Kat!” Caroline grabbed me. “Where’ve you been?”
    “Tell you later. But believe me when I say I’m glad to see you.
    She laughed as she pulled me somewhat behind the column. “Time to meet my boss.”
    “Sure.” I put out the paw. “Very nice to meet you, Senator McMillan.”
    He was a little older than my parents, but unlike most of the politicians I’d met, he didn’t have the “look.” He reminded me a lot more of my Uncle Mort, the high-ranking career Marine, than anything else. Of course, he’d been a Marine, too, so that might have been why.
    He shook my hand. “My Caroline’s told me great things about you, Ambassador. And I understand you’re ‘related’ to my wife, as well. Kelly,” he called to the woman standing a few paces away, talking to another small group, “come and meet your sister.”
    She extracted herself and joined us. We did the intros, then she, Caroline, and I did the whole not-so-secret sorority handshake, pledge, and all the rest of the hoopla we did any time we met a sister for the first time.
    Kelly McMillan was perfectly put together, blonde hair pulled back into a flattering bun, but she smiled with genuine warmth. She’d graduated from college well before we were born, but the sorority bond went past just your years in school.
    Somehow through all the chitchatting we got shoved a little farther back into this alcove. The music changed again, this time a song people could actually waltz to, Rod Stewart’s “Downtown Train,” and Michael asked Caroline to dance. It meant someone from our group was on the dance floor, so I wasn’t against it.
    I thought McMillan was going to ask his wife to dance, so got ready to move on, but someone else asked her. I was fairly sure it was the Secretary of State, also known as Villanova’s boss. McMillan seemed to have no issues with someone else asking his wife todance, and they sailed off. Anyone else nearby joined them, and shortly we were the only ones in this area.
    “How are you enjoying your new position?” he asked me when we were alone.
    “It’s…fine.”
    “How are you finding D.C.?”
    “Oh, great town. So wonderful to have all four seasons. And all that.”
    He chuckled. “I hate it here, personally.”
    “Dude, really, you too? I loathe this place.” I realized what I’d said and winced. Chalk one up in the Darcy Lockwood Failure Column. I had no idea why it had slipped out, other than that I liked him already and didn’t feel that I was next to someone I couldn’t or shouldn’t trust.
    McMillan laughed. “Nice to see you’ve relaxed around me. It’s a harsh change from our beautiful home state.”
    “No one else seems to think the desert’s pretty. But I miss it like I can’t even describe.”
    “It’s a different climate, topography, and mindset back home. You’ve only been here three months. Wait until you’ve been here longer.”
    “I’ll like it then?” I asked hopefully.
    “No. But you’ll really treasure the few times you’ll be able to take a vacation and go home.”



CHAPTER 81
    W E BOTH HAD A GOOD LAUGH, but I did have a question. “Is it that obvious that I hate it