Page 7 of Close Encounters of the Hot Kind

"Get Aileen some flours," I type into the phone. "King Arthur's finest selection."

"That's not quite what I-"

"Organic. Stone ground. The works." I pocket the phone with a satisfied nod. "She'll be impressed by my thoughtfulness."

"Sir, there may be a slight misunderstanding regarding-"

"Time to go. Can't keep her waiting."

"But sir-"

I straighten my tie and check the hologram one last time. Perfect. Well, imperfect in all the right ways.

"Car's downstairs. Wish me luck."

"Break a leg, sir. Though perhaps you should google the difference between-"

The elevator doors close on Teletran's protest. I have a good feeling about tonight. This negotiation will go perfectly.

The elevator hums as it descends. I check my wrist display - two hours, twenty-eight minutes of power remaining. Plenty of time to sweep Aileen off her feet.

"Sir, your power cells are at critical-" Teletran's voice crackles through my earpiece.

"Mute all communications."

Blessed silence. Just me and my thoughts of her. The way her eyes flashed when she stood up to me. Such fire. Such passion. A true warrior's spirit in that small human frame.

The display ticks down another minute. Two hours, twenty-seven now. But what's time when destiny calls? Three centuries of waiting, and finally I've found her. My mate. My match.

The elevator doors open to the lobby. My Italian leather shoes click against the marble floor. Everything must be perfecttonight. The restaurant. The wine. The way I'll lean in close and tell her...

Tell her what? That I'm actually a seven-foot alien warrior? That her family restaurant sits atop a weapon that could destroy the city?

No. Those revelations can wait. Tonight is about connection. About showing her we're meant to be together. The rest will fall into place.

The doorman tips his hat. "Your car is ready, Mr. Varakian."

I barely hear him. In my mind, I'm already at dinner. Watching her eyes light up as she talks about her dreams. Seeing that fierce pride soften into something warmer. Something just for me.

Two hours, twenty-five minutes. A mere technicality. By the time the power cells run dry, she'll be mine. Nothing else matters. Not the mission. Not the weapon. Just Aileen.

The car door opens. I slide into the leather interior, my heart racing with anticipation. Tonight, everything changes.

CHAPTER 3

AILEEN

The red dress makes me look like an overripe tomato. The black one? Too funeral. The blue cocktail number from cousin Maria's wedding has a suspicious stain that won't come out. I toss them all onto my childhood bed, where they join the growing pile of rejects.

"He's after the restaurant, that's what he's after!" Dad's voice carries through the thin walls.

"Sam, lower your voice." Mom's whisper somehow cuts through clearer than Dad's shouting.

I hold up an emerald-green wrap dress against my body. The mirror shows dark circles under my eyes from staying up late doing inventory.

"Four months!" Mom's voice again. "Four months since that disaster with the accountant, and before that-"

"I don't need a recap of my dating history," I mutter to my reflection.

---