In the good old days, ACE being inside Gower had been great. We could chat with ACE pretty much any time we needed to and, while he couldn’t or wouldn’t always come right out and tell us specifically what was going on, he was great with giving the helpful hints.
Due to things that went on during Operations Sherlock and Infiltration, ACE had been taken away from us. And while Operation Infiltration had been filled with a lot of losses and heartbreak for us, ACE had been returned to us due to sacrifices made by Naomi Gower-Reynolds. But in order to stay, ACE had had to make a deal, and that deal was that he was no longer inside Gower’s head. Instead, the head he’d gone into was Jamie’s, at the time the person with the least power on the planet, at least in terms of influence in the world.
It meant my little girl was the safest person in the solar system, if not the entire galaxy, in many ways, but it also meant that we couldn’t talk to ACE easily—because none of us were going to discuss scary, grownup things with a little child. So these days I only got to talk to ACE if Jamie was napping—a rarity at six—or if she and I were both asleep. My dreams were super funky when I was able to dream-chat with ACE, but then again, as this morning’s dream had proven in full-on Technicolor, my dreams were weird regardless.
All this might make someone think that Lizzie was just ordinary, since her parents had been humans. But that someone would be totally wrong. Lizzie was exceptional not because of her innate abilities but because of what she’d done already in her young life.
Lizzie’s parents had been Russian spies who were also working with the leaders of Club Fifty-One to create something that could eradicate aliens—and a lot of humans, too. She’d stood up to them, had faced the very real possibility that they’d kill her, because she knew what they wanted to do was wrong on a massive scale. She’d been saved by the man who was now her adoptive father, Benjamin Siler.
Siler wasn’t here, but the kids weren’t alone. They were with our live-in nanny, Nadine Alexis, her middle sister, Francine, who had the job of being my far-hotter FLOTUS double, and their youngest sister, Colette, who was my press secretary. All three sisters were A-Cs and lived in the White House with us, and they liked to breakfast together with the kids whenever they could.
Francine, as my double, wore the same clothes as me. Unlike me, Francine could be trusted to dress, prep, and eat and drink without spilling on her Fake FLOTUS Outfit or mussing her Fake FLOTUS Hair and Makeup. And yet, Jeff preferred me and found it unsettling to even tell Francine she looked nice. Apparently he didn’t mind my penchant for dropping food onto my chest.
All this meant, therefore, I got to see what I’d be wearing today.
Shocking me to my core, I wasn’t going to be in “my” color today. Would have asked what was wrong with the cosmos, but I wasn’t that stupid. Turned out I would be representing in A-C colors. A black, long-sleeved sheath dress that hit right above my knees, a white Bolero jacket with black buttons and piping, black hose, and black pumps. Oh, and pearls because of course pearls. Prayed I’d be in fakes—the necklace, earrings, ring, and bracelet Francine was wearing looked very real.
Chose not to mention that I’d run the hose in a matter of minutes, if not seconds. If Francine was already in nylons, I’d be in nylons or die trying to get out of wearing them. So far, I’d lost those battles every time.
“Mommy, do we get to watch you get ready?” Jamie asked, sounding excited, while she stuffed pancakes and scrambled eggs into her mouth.
“Um, I guess so. If you want. And remember, sweetie—don’t talk with your mouth full.”
“We do!” She said after she swallowed. Then she looked at Lizzie. “Don’t we?” Lizzie nodded.
“I have no idea why,” I said. Honestly.
“Oh, totes for sure we do, Kitty,” Lizzie said cheerfully. “I like watching Pierre do your makeup—it gives me a lot of tips. And Akiko telling me why she has you in what is really educational. You never know, I might want to go into fashion.”
Managed to refrain from saying that Lizzie was as likely to go into fashion as I’d been. I’d always had an interest, but my talents truly ran to mind-melding with every crazed lunatic with a Take Over The World Today Plan rather than matching fabrics and colors and, frankly, Lizzie was definitely cut from the same cloth.
“I like to watch Uncle Pierre make you even more ravishing,” Jamie said, providing us with an exact Pierre Quote. Somehow it didn’t seem wrong coming from the American Centaurion Embassy’s Concierge Majordomo and the Confirmed Most Competent Man in the World, but it sounded awful coming out of the mouth of my little girl.
Had to fight the impulse to demand that I never wear makeup again. Somehow I was teaching the kids that primping was a vital part of being a woman, and that went against most of how I’d lived my life.
“Mommy looks pretty right now,” Charlie said truculently, winning my Mommy’s Best Child of the Hour Award.
“Right you are, son,” Jeff said as he sat down between Jamie and Lizzie and pulled Charlie onto his lap. I kissed the tops of each kid’s head, including Lizzie’s, went to the fridge, and got a Coke. Because it was already somehow a long day and it was going to be even longer and Coke was good at keeping me going.
“She does,” Lizzie agreed. “But she’s going to be filmed, and makeup helps make you look good on camera. And on stage.”
“I dread to ask who you heard say that.”
Lizzie grinned at me. “It’s a long list. You want it now?”
“Absolutely not.” Took a long drink of my Coke. “Just tell me that no one’s putting makeup on the three of you.”
“Nope,” Lizzie replied. “Pierre says that we’re perfect as is.”
“Thank God.”
“We won’t be as filmed as you,” Lizzie went on. “That’s why. If Pierre thinks we might be, then I’ll get some makeup, too.”
“I’m betting your father would be as thrilled with that as I am.”
Lizzie shrugged and looked behind me. “Why don’t you ask him?”
Turned. There was no one there.
CHAPTER 3
SILER APPEARED RIGHT next to me and I jumped. “Gah!”
“Nice to see you, too.” He grinned. “I love that I still manage to get you at least half of the time.”
“You’re hilarious. Why were you blending right now?”
He laughed. “Because I’m practicing.”
“My dad can hold a blend for almost an hour now,” Lizzie said proudly.