Alien in the Family

rude.” A man I’d never seen before who was really great looking held the door for us. “Thanks!” He gave me a big smile and an appraising look.
    Martini growled and dragged me to the desk. “I hate it here already. Just so you know.”
    “Oh, Jeff, relax.” Another good-looking guy came out of the elevator banks and gave me the big smile and obvious once-over. I loved Vegas.
    “Right. Stop flirting with strangers. It’s bad enough you flirt with Reynolds. Still. And James.”
    “Chuckie’s clear on who I’m engaged to, and James is gay.”
    “Can’t tell that it matters, to either one of them.” Martini went to the front desk. “We’re here to see Charles Reynolds. I think he’s registered here.”
    “Yes, Mister Reynolds is on the top floor.” The desk clerk pointed to the elevator banks. “You don’t need a key to get up there. He’s expecting you.”
    As we headed off, I spotted the two guys who’d checked me out. They were chatting at the main intersection between check-in, the elevators, the parking garage, and the exit to the casino. They were handsome enough to be A-Cs, but since they were both in jeans and casual shirts, it was a good bet they were just hunks. Both looked at me and gave me the big grins while they checked out my assets. I tried not to be flattered and failed utterly. I really loved Vegas.
    “What part of stop flirting with strangers isn’t coming through?” Martini groused as he dragged me into the elevator banks and out of view of my admiring public. I chose not to be annoyed. It wasn’t as if I were here looking for someone to pick up, after all.
    I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. Someone was in an alcove to the side of the elevator banks. I hadn’t noticed anyone when we’d walked by. I nudged Martini, but before either one of us could move, a man walked briskly out of the alcove and away. “Mister Joel Oliver, what a surprise. How’d he find us here?”
    “Listened to the directions we gave the limo driver, I’m sure.”
    “I guess. You didn’t pick him up?”
    Martini grunted. “No, though I can recognize his emotional feel now. But there’s a lot of interference here, even more than at the airport.” Made sense. Most emotions ran higher in Sin City, especially the closer you were to a casino, and we were very close. I decided not to worry about Oliver right now, especially since Martini still sounded annoyed.
    “Think the rest of the team is here already?” I asked as we waited for the elevator to arrive.
    “Unless they’re filming an orgy, yeah. I assume Oliver followed them here, not us.”
    “Good point. I think Tim and the girls might be open to the orgy idea, though.”
    “Thankfully, I know without asking that the flyboys are not.”
    “Your Puritanical attitude is rubbing off on them, I see.”
    “Like you wanted to be filmed?” he asked as we got inside the elevator.
    I shrugged. “Might be fun to watch.” I didn’t actually think so, but it was fun to needle him sometimes.
    Martini grabbed my waist with both hands, lifted me up and put me against the side of the elevator. “How fun?”
    I put my legs around his waist and pulled him into me. “Lots of fun.”
    We practiced for our next Vegas limo ride the entire way up. Fortunately, it was a high hotel. Unfortunately, we knew hitting the stop elevator button would cause alarms to go off. We compromised by making out wildly. I had to brush my hair again, and his, when the elevator stopped.
    Clothes adjusted, hair faking it, we got out and walked down the hall. I could hear voices as we neared a large set of open double doors. The suite Chuckie was in took up at least half of the top floor. Martini was muttering under his breath again before we were through the doors.
    Which was funny, considering his family was loaded and lived in a palatial estate in Florida. I hadn’t realized until today that it must have seemed like home on Alpha Centauri to Martini’s father. From what Christopher had said, they’d lived in a pretty palatial embassy when Terry was alive. Again, must have seemed normal to her. Chuckie’s money started to seem a lot more natural. I was an American, after all—royalty was interesting, but I was a lot more comfortable with the idea of success through capitalism.
    Everyone else from our team was there already, and so were Reader, Gower, and Christopher. The Pontifex, who also was considered a part of Alpha Team when it was convenient, was