Alien in the Family

men.
    I insisted on giving Pierre a huge tip in addition to whatever Reader had given him. I still had a lot of Martini’s cash on me, and I didn’t think he’d mind. Pierre said I was always welcome. Then we gathered up the other gals, and Reader hustled us to our next location.
    It was just before noon now, and we were headed to the girl’s luncheon. I had no idea how Reader could be berating himself for forgetting flowers when he’d managed to plan everything else down to the smallest detail in a matter of hours.
    This time I knew we had paparazzi because they were all over the place. The fine dining area wasn’t inside the casino, in that sense, and there were cameras and men shoving themselves at us. It was weird and not at all pleasant. The only one missing was Mister Joel Oliver.
    My mother seemed unperturbed. “Why are you so okay with all this?” I hissed to her as we walked quickly past a clutch of them.
    “It’s amazing. You work for Centaurion Division and have no idea of how this will play out?”
    I thought about it. “Oh. Just like last night—Imageering will handle it?”
    “And the reports will show that there was a huge wedding with a lot of money spread around. We call it a ‘cover story’ where I come from.”
    “You want them here, don’t you?”
    “I understand how to use and influence the weapons at my disposal, yes.” She heaved a sigh. “Somehow they made you a Commander and yet barely tolerate Charles. I wonder about Centaurion Division’s judgment sometimes, I really do.”
    “I’m wondering about your judgment, so that’s fair. You really think it’s okay that they’re getting pics of you and Chuckie, too?”
    She sighed. “An international playboy-millionaire being in attendance enhances the cover story. I’m your mother, where else should I be when my daughter’s getting married?”
    “Chuckie honestly has a playboy rep?” He’d told me so, but I was still having trouble seeing it in my mind. I loved him, but I didn’t see Chuckie as Batman. Then again, maybe Iron Man—Tony Stark was brilliant, after all. I didn’t figure Mom would appreciate discussing which comics character Chuckie would most align with, so I kept these thoughts to myself.
    “In the circles we need him to, yes, particularly internationally. It covers why he travels so much, has a home in D.C. as well as Sydney, and so forth. Why is this even remotely surprising to you?”
    It was surprising mostly because I still wasn’t sold on the paparazzi being useful to covert ops in any way, but I decided not to argue this any longer. “I’m distracted.”
    “Good line. Stick with it. Doesn’t work on me, but maybe someone else will fall for it.” My mother—the love was overwhelming.
    We shoved through the men with cameras, and Reader deposited us at Shanghai Lily, then left to meet up with the other men, who were having their lunch across the way at Lupo. Strict instructions were left that I wasn’t to go to the bathroom alone, since I might manage to meet up with Martini and have sex in the middle of the casino or something.
    Casino Security showed up and moved the paparazzi away just as our food arrived. I was impressed and was finally able to relax. I didn’t know how the celebs handled it on a regular basis, but I was fine with never seeing another camera again.
    All the female guests were here with us, though my wedding party, complete with mothers and grandmothers, was in its own section. I tried not to think about the costs of this. I knew there was no way Chuckie or the C.I.A. was footing these bills, and, during the second course, I started to really wonder if Martini had any idea of how much money we were spending like it was water.
    My phone rang. “How’s Lupo?”
    “Food’s great. Is your theme for today ultra worrying?”
    “Jeff, it’s just . . .” I didn’t want to say what it was in front of everyone, his mother in particular. My mother in the other particular.
    He sighed. “James explained a little of why you might be worried. In our culture, the groom’s side pays for everything.”
    “You’re just saying that.”
    “No, I’m not. If you can’t afford to pay for everything, then you can’t afford to marry the girl. It’s an A-C thing. Ask Victoria, for God’s sake. Alexander just confirmed it’s still the same on the home world.”
    “Okay, but still.”
    “But still nothing. Baby, this is how we do things. I realize we added in some human