Jerry studied the white disk a white-gloved waiter had just handed him on a silver-rimmed china plate.
“Wondering what it is?” A cooly amused blonde in a shimmering gown the color of moonlight gave a ghost of a smile and made her way toward him, heels clicking on the marble floor. She lifted her flute of champagne. “Elena.”
He lifted his own glass toward her. “Wondering how to eat it with my hands full and nowhere to set these down.” He peered ostentatiously at the plate, which revealed no secrets to its audience. “But also what it might be, yes, and whether it’s edible.”
The round disk looked like smooth styrofoam, dazzled with either pebbles or the dullest edible confetti he’d ever seen.
“Orphans on the moon,” Elena said with a smile nearly as dazzling as the diamonds circling her neck. “It’s a themed meringue disk. My chef’s creation.”
Jerry softened, lifting his gaze as if to study her for the first time. Other than her curls, she matched her picture. “So you’re the host.”
“First time at one of my fundraisers?” Her words held a bite of irony. “Apologies. That was uncalled for.”
“I gave it away, didn’t I?” He grinned, urging on the charm and grateful his itchy fingers were occupied. Those diamonds were singing to be handled by someone who’d appreciate them more than an evening accessory. “Not knowing how to handle the food or pretend to be all blasé.”
“Perhaps,” she conceded.
“But I’m one of the ones who made it big after being raised in an orphanage on the moon, and it’s time for me to give back as well.”
“Fascinating,” drawled Elena. “The modern version of local boy made good. Mister…”
“Jim,” he said hastily, giving her his code name for the evening. He dropped his champagne on a passing waiter’s tray, untouched.
He tapped two fingers against his lapel pin, the agreed-upon signal for target acquired. A signal that also looked like it was an invitation to move closer.
“Now, would you care to help me test this delectable treat before we orbit into the auction room?”
He held up the lightweight disk, gave her a devil-may-care grin reminiscent of the Apollo program, and knew they’d never make it that far.
***
Did nother Mike expect the unexpected from the moon orphanage to be a gang of orbital thieves? And what did Becky Jones do with terraforming? Find out over at MOTE!
