Page 33 of The Marriage Bargain

Hopefully.

This will work, I told myself, as I left Drayke’s office to go outside and wait for Delle. I refused to allow doubts to linger. It will work. It must.

CHAPTER 19

DELLE

“You’re not nervous. You’re not nervous. This is not big deal. Don’t freak out. You’re not freaking out, right? You’re fine. You really are. You can do this.”

The sheer fact that I was whispering this pep talk as I drove my old truck up to the gates of the Citadel, my hands clenching the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles were white, pretty much proved the phrases were a lie.

I was nervous. This was a big deal. Internally, I was freaking out.

But I was fine, right? Great. I was great. I could do this.

I can definitely do this.

The truck rumbled to a stop at the guard shack. The guard, a human this time, appeared surprised as he ducked his head into my cab, splaying a flashlight over my face before dropping it.

“Little late to report to work, isn’t it?” he said. “Or are you on night shift?”

His smirk when he said night shift. I knew what he was inferring, I could have allowed myself to be insulted. I chose not to. What business was it of his if I, like many other girls, chose to become a sex worker in order to pay rent and eat? The Overlords were the ones who denied us job opportunities. A woman does what she has to, in order to survive.

Which was what I was doing, entering a marriage bargain with an alien.

But this guard didn’t need to know that.

“Actually,” I said, “I’m here to see Overlord Caide. He’s expecting me.”

“I bet he is.”

The smirk didn’t leave. I wanted to slap it off his face. Instead, I firmed my lips, breathed, said, “Can I pass?”

“Let’s see some ID,” the guard insisted.

Right. Clearly, he thought I was a prostitute. I doubted he checked all of their IDs, but what did I know? Maybe he’d taken a personal dislike to me for whatever reason.

I reached into the purse lying on the passenger seat next to me, fished out my wallet, opened it, and dug out my ID. I handed it over. The guard glanced at it. Did a double take. Frowned.

“Delle Gibron.”

“Yes,” I said, curious about the strange note in his voice.

“You’re sure it’s Overlord Caide expecting you? Not Flight Commander Abidah?”

Flight Commander Abidah? Who the heck was he?

My mind spun, trying to piece together this odd question with a name that sounded familiar.

“The Gorgathelian Flight Commander? I can’t believe you haven’t heard of him. He’s been visiting the Citadel for the past several months, training Asterion pilots. Part of some program among the Interstellar Coalition where they trade their people back and forth. Guess the Asterions decided they needed to build up their flight defenses, especially around the Citadel, now that it’s coming along so well,” he finished grimly. He squinted at me again as he handed my ID back. “Are you sure you’re not here to see him?”

I can’t lie. I was pretty taken aback by this entire exchange. Taken aback, and more than a little freaked out.

“I’m sure,” I responded, my voice firmer than I might have expected, considering this fresh blow to my nerves. “I think I’d know if I was here to see a Gorgathelian Flight Commander. Why are you asking?”

The guard shrugged, stepped back, eyeballing me like he didn’t know what to make of me.

“Word is,” he said, lighting up a cigarette and bringing it to his mouth to inhale, “your name’s been in the Flight Commander’s mouth. Not sure I would have remembered it if I hadn’t been at the gate the other day when you encountered him. Surprised you don’t remember that.”

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