Tchaikovsky: Stargazer Alien Barbarian Brides #3

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Tchaikovsky: Stargazer Alien Barbarian Brides #3 Page 12

by Black, Tasha


  “It’s nice,” Rima said. “You’ll see.”

  Georgia shrugged. They passed another poster touting the upcoming Fall Festival and went inside.

  The interior was dimly lit. Posey pushed aside her fear that the low lighting was intended to obscure health code violations, and continued her examination.

  The ceiling was unsurprisingly painted dark blue and peppered with glow-in-the-dark stars. The booths were fifties teal-blue.

  Rima slid into one near the entrance and the other two followed. Posey resisted the urge to use a wet wipe on the Naugahyde before sitting.

  “Rima Bhimani,” a deep voice said.

  “Hey, Sam,” Rima grinned.

  The handsome waiter grinned back, his brown eyes twinkling.

  “I didn’t know you were home. Your mom was here last night.”

  “She was?” Rima asked, sounding surprised.

  “Yep,” Sam replied. “What can I get you guys?”

  They jumped into a discussion of the menu, which was full of cute outer space names for everything. Once Sam had taken their orders he winked at Rima and disappeared.

  Posey looked around. The ambiance of the place was pretty laid-back given the seediness of the entrance. There were a few families sitting at the tables around them, and a lot of couples and groups of men and women out for a night on the town.

  Her eye was drawn to the back of the room.

  Wow.

  The table against the back wall was filled, literally filled with three men.

  All three were tall, muscular, and drop dead gorgeous.

  All three were studying their surroundings intently.

  And although she was positive she’d never met any of them, there was something oddly familiar about them.

  Posey’s heart slammed in her chest as she studied them. Why was she reacting to good-looking guys this way? She wasn’t a teenager.

  “Oh,” Georgia breathed.

  Posey didn’t even turn around to look at Georgia. She assumed her friend was seeing what she was seeing.

  “Do you think they’re professional athletes or something?” Posey asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Rima replied. She sounded funny, and not in a hubba-hubba-those-guys-are-hot way.

  Sam appeared with a tray of drinks.

  “The guys at the back table sent these for you,” he said, sounding distinctly less cheerful than before.

  “Wow,” Posey said.

  Georgia smiled.

  “What is that?” Rima asked, looking at the glasses.

  “Alabama Slammers?” Sam said uncertainly. “I dunno, Aidan at the bar had to get out the old drink book - he said we haven’t made these since the ‘80s.”

  “Hilarious,” Georgia said drily. But she was smiling in spite of herself.

  Posey took a sip. Not bad.

  She ventured a gaze back at the guys at the table.

  They were watching, the intensity of their gazes at odds with their mild expressions.

  Then it hit her.

  The dream.

  They reminded Posey of the guys in her dream. They weren’t wearing suits and she was fully dressed herself, but she felt her whole body warming as if she were right back on that runway.

  Posey chided herself for being a dreamer and turned back to the other two.

  “You okay?” Georgia asked Rima.

  Rima nodded and took a gulp of her drink, then squeezed her eyes shut against it.

  “They’re hot, right?” Georgia asked Posey, inclining her chin toward the table of guys.

  “Yeah. But, um, we’re here to donate eggs,” Posey muttered.

  “What the hell is the matter with the two of you?” Georgia demanded, putting her drink down a little too hard. “So we’re here to donate eggs, so what? The way I see it, these guys can only help with that. I think I might ovulate just looking at them.”

  Rima smiled.

  “Seriously, let’s have some fun. When was the last time we didn’t have papers to write?” Georgia asked. “Drink that, don’t put it down,” she said to Posey, as if she had read Posey’s mind.

  “And you, don’t drink anymore, you need to hold it together tonight,” Georgia advised Rima.

  Posey drank and Rima put her glass down. Both smiled in anticipation.

  Whatever else anyone said about Georgia, one thing was for sure, she was a natural leader.

  Georgia chugged her own glass and put it down on the table just as the waiter came with their food.

  “Enjoying your drinks, ladies?” Sam asked.

  Rima giggled.

  “Yes, please thank the gentlemen for us,” Georgia replied, kicking Rima under the table, which only made Rima giggle harder.

  “Will do,” Sam said. “One Blast-off Burger, one Celestial Salad, one Moon Cheese.”

  He put a burger in front of Georgia, a salad in front of Posey, and a grilled cheese in front of Rima. It actually looked pretty good.

  Sam disappeared and they all dug in.

  “So what’s the plan?” Posey asked, happy not to be in charge.

  “Well, we’ve got to get to the lab tomorrow morning at eight for initiation, whatever that is,” Georgia said.

  “Most likely jabbing us to death for blood,” Posey muttered to her salad.

  “Hey, this is almost ten grand we’re talking about, kiddo,” Georgia scolded her cheerfully.

  “I know, I know. But why is it almost ten grand?” Posey asked, putting her fork down.

  “Why must you question this?” Georgia asked. She was tired of the conversation, but Posey couldn’t let it go.

  “Seriously, Georgia. The going rate is more like six thousand. Why are they paying us ninety-five hundred?” Posey asked.

  “Because we’re college educated?” Georgia ventured. “Because we’re at an east coast school and it’s more expensive there? Who knows? I’m sure not going to complain.”

  “The place that advertises in the Harvard Crimson only offers eight,” Posey replied.

  “How do you even know that?” Georgia asked, rolling her pretty green eyes. “It’s probably just a starting point because they know those kids will ask for more. Besides, we’re just as good as them.”

  “But my BMI—” Posey began.

  “Oh, not this again,” Georgia snapped. “I don’t care about your BMI, the guys at that table don’t care about your BMI, and the people buying your eggs don’t care about your BMI. You’re very pretty, Posey, is that what you want to hear?”

  It wasn’t. Not at all, she was just worried. Something wasn’t right. Sure, they were joking and enjoying themselves like they always did when they were together, but now that they were actually in Stargazer, the whole thing felt more important than it had back in the safety of their little apartment.

  Posey looked to Rima, who was ever the peacemaker in their little group.

  But Rima was uncharacteristically quiet tonight, looking down at her grilled cheese without eating it.

  They finished their meal and tipped generously. When they got up to leave, Posey noticed with fleeting disappointment that the men at the table in back were gone too.

  4

  Posey

  The next morning, after showering and dressing at a wretchedly early hour, Posey and the girls hopped into a taxi and headed to the lab while it was still dark.

  The cab took a meandering route out of the little town and through a rural area, before stopping at the end of a winding lane lined with overgrown ten-foot high boxwoods.

  Posey and Georgia stepped out of the car with their bags. Rima scrambled out behind them.

  They hiked up the last couple of yards and turned the corner.

  Georgia stopped so suddenly that Posey almost bumped into her.

  “Holy crap,” Georgia said reverently.

  The lab must have been part of the old observatory Rima had told them about.

  It was oddly picturesque - the copper dome patinated a hazy green, the Victorian style brick wov
en into patterns and columns below, and the whole thing reflected back in the pond at the bottom of the hill.

  And beyond the pond and the observatory, nothing but miles and miles of pine trees.

  “You knew we were coming here didn’t you?” Georgia accused Rima.

  Rima shrugged but didn’t smile. She was looking freaked out for sure. Posey almost felt bad for her.

  “Come on, let’s do this,” Posey said, resolute.

  She still had a bad feeling, but there was nothing they could do about it now.

  They climbed the stairs and rang the bell.

  A good-looking young guy in a lab coat greeted them.

  “Hey, you must be the… donors. I’m Jason. Glad to see you, please come in,” he said.

  They followed Jason inside.

  Unsurprisingly, the room was round. The floors were finished oak and the lower portions of the walls had rounded built-in bookshelves that were flooded with volumes of every shape and size crammed into place indelicately, as if someone had tried to clean them up hastily.

  “I’m just going to go and check on—” he began.

  “Rima Bhimani,” a female voice thundered.

  A door flew open and a tall Indian woman marched through it. She appeared to be in her late fifties. She had a long black braid without a trace of gray, and she wore a lab coat that matched Jason’s.

  “Uh, everyone, this is Dr. Bhimani,” Jason said with a nervous gesture that had a little more flourish than he probably intended.

  “Mom—” Rima began.

  “Rima, how could you?” Dr. Bhimani demanded.

  “Mom… how could I not?” Rima asked, an unexpected hint of steel in her voice.

  Posey looked at her friend aghast. What the hell was going on here?

  “What do you mean how could you not?” Dr. Bhimani spat. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “This is the only way to restore your name, the town, everything you’ve worked for,” Rima said quietly. “No one else understands how important this is.”

  Dr. Bhimani threw her hands in the air and began to pace.

  “Well, we can’t start over again,” she said, more to herself than anyone in the room.

  “Is - is this your daughter?” Jason asked.

  “Yes. This is my daughter,” Dr. Bhimani said, pursing her lips and continuing to pace. “I tried to handle everything properly - let the computer decide. We ran a double-blind study on fertility, socio-economic status, and communal compatibility. And what do I end up with? My own daughter and her friends. God help me.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, Mom,” Rima said.

  “Why do I get the feeling we’re not just donating eggs?” Georgia asked.

  No one answered.

  “I told you,” Posey said. “Nine thousand five hundred was too much.”

  But it was hard to glory in I-told-you-so when she had no freaking clue what was going on.

  “Dr. Bhimani, may I ask what we’re doing here?” Georgia asked in what Posey liked to think of as her police officer voice.

  It was effective, as usual.

  Dr. Bhimani turned as if she had just noticed Georgia and Posey.

  “You’re donating your eggs,” she said simply.

  “It sounds like there’s more to it than that,” Georgia said.

  “Oh, not really,” Dr. Bhimani said. “At least Rima doesn’t seem to think the fine print is an issue.”

  Rima squirmed for the first time in their confrontation.

  “Please elaborate,” Georgia said, “I insist.”

  “We planned an initiation that would allow you to review the information and make a final decision. But if you insist on knowing everything right now, then so be it. At least I can thank my daughter for keeping quiet about it until you got here,” she added with a pointed look at Rima.

  She turned back to Georgia and Posey and paused, as if she were afraid to continue. But at last she shook her head and jumped in.

  “You’ll be donating your eggs while they are still in your bodies,” Dr. Bhimani said.

  “How is that even possible?” Georgia asked.

  “It’s… complicated,” the older woman replied.

  “Try me,” Georgia insisted.

  Dr. Bhimani sighed, obviously realizing Georgia wasn’t about to back down.

  “This isn’t exactly how I planned to tell you,” Dr. Bhimani said. “I had a whole speech planned. Destiny, becoming part of something bigger than yourselves, that sort of thing.”

  “Sorry to ruin your moment,” Posey offered, earning an icy look from Georgia.

  “The truth of the matter is,” Dr. Bhimani continued. “You’re going to be offering yourselves as mates.”

  “Mates?” Georgia asked incredulously.

  “That’s correct,” Dr. Bhimani said. “To the aliens.”

  ***

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