Page 3 of Wrong Bed Right Alien

“He’s going to sway you to mention his UFO research. Don’t let him. Don’t let him influence you with his nonsense, Kimber. Homeless shelter. Remember that if you feel tempted. Homeless. Shelter.”

His office door slammed.

“UFO sightings,” she trailed off before hugging her things to her chest and darting to her cubicle.

Dumping everything into the corner of her desk, Kimber opened her laptop and signed on. Wonderful stuff like this just didn’t happen to her. What a strange coincidence that she was travelling to Dingle after researching it for months.

“Hey, what happened in there?” Dana swung into the cubicle with one hand on the divider frame and a concerned tell-me-everything expression.

Kimber tried and failed to control the huge smile on her face. “I’m going to Ireland!”

Dana raised a shocked brow. “Ireland? What the hell did you do to Jim to get that assignment?”

Kimber recoiled with a grimace. “Ew, no.”

Dana shivered in disgust. “Sorry. Yes, ew. Hey, it’s about damn time. You’ve earned this. Don’t get into any trouble over there.”

Turning back to her computer, she scrolled through a couple pages of Pel Cappa’s most recent escapades, which mostly included images of him with random women at various events he donated to in his father’s name. He was handsome enough. A little crazy eyed, honestly. He had that intense look about him—like you’d never know what he might do or say next.

Boring of the socialite images, she scrolled to the next page, skimming recent news from the Dingle Harold about strange lights and disk-like objects reported coming out of the ocean and shooting into the sky.

Her body thrummed with excitement. She was well versed in the reported alien activity because she’d been following Pel Cappa’s extraterrestrial research for months. He’d used daddy’s money to start a novice alien investigative media company, including a website, video channel and rudimentary magazine. He’d been posting online videos and articles about their research for months online with the Dingle sightings.

She wanted to believe the sightings were bullshit. After what her father had put her through… the media attention, the ridicule, the never disappearing internet videos, the threats… she’d vowed to put it all behind her. As much as she hated her past, she had a dirty secret. One that she couldn’t make complete sense of.

She was slightly obsessed with UFOs.

Her home office contained books, papers, and reports of UFO sightings and first-hand experiences she hoped would help her make sense of her father’s claims. Real or not, what he claimed to have experienced traumatized him and changed him from a hardworking single father to a man who became obsessed with trying to convince the world that alien abductions were real. He’d wasted away until he became nursing home bound at sixty and died two years later.

She’d wrestled with having something to prove since she was twelve years old. Aliens, real or not? The answer wasn’t black and white. Especially since she’d had an experience of her own, she couldn’t fully explain. Her brain had digested it enough to find a plausible rationale, but it never made complete sense.

Either she’d experienced what she thought she had… or she was just as crazy as her father had been. Either option was terrifying.

Closing her computer, she ran a hand over her mouth. She had to stay focused on this trip, thisbusinesstrip. She had to follow Rule Number Three, no matter how tempted she might be to poke around. No extraterrestrials.

Her job depended on it.

Chapter Two

Kimber

“You’renottheretolook for aliens.”

Kimber adjusted the cell phone against her ear with one hand and hauled the strap of her oversized duffel bag onto her shoulder.

“No aliens, Dana. I know.”

“This is serious, Kimber. You’ve got one shot at this. Can you imagine the various shades of red Jim’s face will turn if you bring him some UFO story? He’ll fire you the moment the paramedics are done reviving him.”

Kimber glanced around for the bus stop. “No ‘ooh-foh’ stories. I promise.”

“It’sU-F-O.”

“I’m aware. But saying, ‘ooh-foh’ drives the English major in you insane. Gotta go.”

“Kimber—”

“Love you. Bye.”

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