His Little Ametrine (Eleadian Mates #9)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Sara

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’ve heard all of this a dozen times. Trust me. It’s fine. I don’t care,” I tell the manager of Club Zoom as I pace his office. I know I’m fidgeting. I’m also chewing a wad of gum, which I know is unattractive, but it calms me a bit.

Zack is sitting at his desk, leaning back casually in his chair. His brow is furrowed. He’s going to turn me down. Again. He’s even tapping a pen against the edge of his desk. He does this every time I come in and beg for this gig.

“Look, Sara?—”

I shake my head, wincing. “Please don’t call me that. My mother gave me that name. It’s so…boring. Soft. Prissy. Innocent.” I shudder. “Do I look boring, soft, prissy, or innocent?” I glance down at myself and swoop a hand through the air alongside my torso.

Zack chuckles. “No.”

I know what he sees. He sees what I want him to see. I’m a starving artist. A singer without enough gigs. A waitress by day so I can work for pennies singing in bars at night, trying to get a break. If I could just be “seen” by the right person. I keep hoping.

I’m skinny and small, which I hate. I do, however, like the fact that I have tanned skin and huge brown eyes. Those are the parts of me I can’t control. The rest of my appearance is completely manipulated by me.

I wear my dirty blond hair in long narrow braids haphazardly placed around my head. I wear thick makeup, smokey eyes, and dark eyeshadow. I paint my full lips black. I have a dozen tattoos, several of which are visible on my arms and legs. If I could afford them, I would have more. I’m wearing my standard stage outfit even for this interview: black combat boots, a black leather skirt that barely covers my assets, a black, skintight tank top, and a multi-color scandalous T-shirt, which I’ve cut up in a dozen places so that it’s hardly anything at all and hangs loosely on my shoulders. I never wear a bra. I don’t need one, and I personally abhor their invention.

I pop my gum as I turn to face Zack, putting my hands on my hips and cocking one hip out to the side. I refuse to sit because I’m short enough when I’m standing. I feel ridiculous when I sit on a standard chair. I’m barely five feet tall. With my combat boots, maybe five one.

“Look, Zack…” I try to tuck my gum into one of my cheeks so I’m not chomping it while I talk. For me, the gum is like what a fidget spinner is for other people. But it’s not professional. “I’m not asking for money. I’m only asking for an opportunity.” This is my standard line when I’m trying to convince someone to give me a chance.

“Sara…”

“Simone. That’s my stage name.” I’d love it if the entire world eventually thought of me as Simone. It would be super cool if it became a household name. No last name. Just Simone. It’s sexy, sultry, and mysterious. It’s not Sara.

“Simone, you understand why I can’t let you sing in Club Zoom. We’ve been over this a dozen times.”

I roll my eyes. I can’t help it. I’m probably too cocky with Zack, but I want to appear to have a spine. I’d like it to seem like he needs me more than I need him.

The truth is hundreds of women come to this club every night of the week. I need to be seen in front of more women. Most of the bars I play in have more of a male clientele than female, which means I’m missing out on an entire segment of the population. I need to hit this group: classy women who come to Club Zoom.

“I know the risks, Zack. I get it. You’re worried I might be selected by one of these mythical alien giants and whisked off the planet never to be seen or heard from again.”

Zack chuckles again. “Sara… Sorry, Simone, trust me. They are not mythical. The men who come here to find a mate are seven and a half feet tall. They are proportionally large all over. Nearly twice your height. If you saw one, your jaw would drop.”

“Fine. Whatever.” I look down at myself and sweep both hands through the air up and down my frame again. “Do I look like the sort of woman these alien giants are attracted to?”

Zack smirks. “S…Simone, these men do not have a type. I know it’s hard to believe, but they tell me when they meet the right woman, the match is Fated.”

I laugh hard. “Fated? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

Zack lifts both brows. “Might sound ridiculous, but it appears to be true. If I let you sing in this club, you could just as easily be claimed by one of the Eleadian men as anyone else in the club. Trust me. I’ve seen every sort of woman leave this planet since we opened. Rich or poor, tall or short, skinny or not so skinny. Every ethnic group. Every body type. Every attitude. Sweet women, snarky women, sexy, frumpy, drunk, sober, with or without college degrees, with or without makeup. You are not immune.”

I hold up a finger. “But how many a night? Out of the hundreds of women who crowd this bar every night, how many get chosen?” I resume chomping my gum. I need it to keep calm. I feel like I’m so close to convincing him.

He sighs. “Maybe two a month. Sometimes more. Sometimes less.”

“See? Let’s work with the odds, yeah? So slim. I’m not the type even human men chase after, let alone aliens from another planet.” I hold my chin high as I continue, “I’m not exactly sexy, Zack. I’m goth. I don’t even have tits,” I boldly point out.

That’s not exactly true. I have boobs, they just aren’t the kind that make men drool or do a doubletake. And part of the reason for my preferred look is because I like to keep men at bay. I’m not interested in dating.

I’m from the wrong side of the tracks. I dated boys in high school and after I graduated, but eventually I decided it wasn’t worth my time. I didn’t want to end up pregnant and stuck in a run-down trailer with a leaky roof and a dripping faucet.

I grew up in such a home. My friends grew up in the same trailer park. Not the nice kind. The kind where no one owed money for the hunk of junk because it wasn’t worth much. The kind where we played in the dirt between our “houses.” The kind where we knew everyone’s business because the walls were so thin we could hear every time people fought. The kind where the kids got their butts whipped on a whim.

I have dreams. I’m someone. I was blessed with a voice. I intend to make something of myself. And I need Zack to give me a chance.

Zack runs a hand down his face. “I once hired a woman to clean the club during the early morning hours when it wasn’t even open, when we assumed all the men would be sleeping and no one would notice her. Guess what?”

My eyebrows lift. “Someone wasn’t sleeping?”

“Exactly. And I lost my cleaning woman.” He snaps his fingers.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about needing to replace me on the wildly unlikely off-chance I get whisked off the planet. I’m a one-night gig.”

“Let’s discuss that wildly unlikely, off-chance possibility. What if you were chosen?”

I draw in a deep breath. Do I care? The answer is no. Not really. “Then I guess I’d be in for the adventure of a lifetime. It’s not like I have anything gluing me here to this earth. I weigh so little even gravity barely tethers me,” I joke. I’m like a hundred pounds. Wet.

“Think about this seriously, Sara,” he says, ignoring my preferred name. His eyes are narrowed again. He’s not smiling. “You don’t even get to go home and collect your belongings. You don’t get to say goodbye to anyone. You just get on one of those pods and head for the mothership. It happens within hours of being chosen.”

My heart rate picks up. I glance at the ceiling even though I can’t see the mothership from inside the club. I know where it is. Everyone knows where the mothership is. It’s hovering above Earth—a constant reminder there are aliens visiting our planet.

I know they have a symbiotic relationship with Earth. The Eleadians exchange knowledge that will help save our planet in exchange for the opportunity to find a love match while they’re visiting. Apparently there are no women on their planet.

Do I care? I ask myself this again. Surely their planet is better than ours, considering they seem to have far more advanced technology. The men who come to Earth, seeking a life-partner, must be wealthy. I bet it costs a lot of money to make the voyage. Maybe I could get discovered on Eleadia for my talent. Lord knows I’m struggling to do so here on Earth.

I don’t need to think this over. “I accept the risks, Zack. I’ll sign whatever you need me to sign. If it makes you feel any better, I’ll even bring a bag with my most cherished belongings just in case the sexiest giant in the universe decides he can’t live without a pixie like me with a stupid name like Sara.” The only cherished belongings I have are the pages of sheet music for my own songs.

Zack frowns. “Do you have family you’re close to?”

I shake my head. It was just me and my mom growing up, and she took off as soon as I turned eighteen. I haven’t seen her since.

Zack draws in a deep breath and blows it out. He’s not laughing. I know I’ve finally talked him into this. The gig is mine.

One way or another, my night playing at Club Zoom could be life-changing. Either I get noticed by hundreds of women or I get whisked off the planet. Either way, I win.