Assistant for the Alien Prince by Tammy Walsh

Jessica

Tasteful.

Creative.

One for the ages.

Just some of the praise Jessica Williams’ parties have garnered over the years.

They attracted the captains of every industry—from the realms of politics, entertainment, to the social elite and top business tycoons, everyone who was anyone turned up to her events.

They all describe her parties as having something akin to magic, an indescribable element that makes them memorable for years to come.

Her ceremonies aren’t simply parties for guests to enjoy, but moments in history where people look back and ask where they’d been when they took place.

And if they somehow managed to find themselves lucky enough to have a ticket, they could be treated to the best food, the greatest music, and even snag themselves a movie star boyfriend if they played their cards right.

But who is this mysterious Jessica Williams?

What do we really know about her?

Where did she come from?

Where did she hone her skills?

Today I reveal in full detail a story of tragedy, bitter disappointment, and personal heartbreak unlike any other.

For full details, turn to page six…

“That’s it!I’m not going!”

I slammed the magazine down on my sister’s flimsy breakfast table and folded my arms.

“Don’t be silly,” Tina said, touching up her makeup using the reflection in the dented kettle. “It’s your party. Of course, you’re going!”

“No, I’m not!” I said, pouting. “And it’s not my party! I just organized it! No one will even notice if I’m there!”

“You do tend to fade into the background, I’ll give you that. But look at it this way, you not going is like an artist not showing up to his own exhibition. If you don’t go, it’ll tarnish the whole thing.”

I shut my eyes and ground my teeth.

My sister knew me so well.

She knew I wouldn’t sabotage my event after all the hard work I’d put into it.

In truth, I hated parties—especially the celebrity-obsessed ones I promoted.

They were so fake, so forced.

Everyone who possessed a ticket turned up not for the worthy cause it’d been created for but simply to be seen.

The entire thing was a charade.

But in our world, the rich and famous were who drove the narrative and decided what was important and what wasn’t.

And magazines like the Buzzing Bell were the arbiters of how much coverage those celebrities got.

If you didn’t feature regularly on the gossip pages, you were nobody.

But there were people who shouldn’t feature in them—namely me!

“And what am I supposed to do about this?” I snapped, stabbing a finger accusingly at the magazine article.

Tina tucked her makeup away and turned to face me.

She balanced a hand on her slender hips and cocked them to one side.

“Try to see the bright side.”

“What bright side?”

“Think of all the extra publicity the event’s getting.”

“We’ve spent millions of credits on publicizing it,” I growled. “It’s billed as the party of the century. How much more publicity does it need?”

I bit off the curse words bubbling on my lips, turned away, and stared at the cracked tiles of my sister’s small rented kitchen.

I’d always been the anonymous organizer and never wanted more than that.

I didn’t need to be reminded of the events that’d happened to me in the past, didn’t need them to be shared with the rest of the human population.

Damn it, why hadn’t I just given Robyn Jensen what she wanted?

Because I thought I could escape the scrutiny of the public eye long enough to escape to the country.

Because I thought I was above the gossip columns and rumor mill.

Because I wanted to leave my past in the past.

Tina dragged a chair over and sat beside me.

“Hey,” she said softly. “It’s all right. It’s not as bad as it seems.”

“No, it’s a lot worse.”

Tina placed her cheek on the back of my hands—something she used to do a lot while we were growing up.

We’d always been close.

Two girls to a father who’d never wanted anything more than a son.

It was easier facing his disappointment when it was divided between two.

“Everything’s going to be all right,” Tina said. “Remember Aunt Mary’s house on the coast?”

A smile immediately quirked my lips.

Nothing made me happier than thinking about that old house with its creaking splintered walls and the taste of salt from the rushing waves of the sea less than a hundred feet away.

We’d stay during the holidays, away from Dad’s unceasing desire to be liked by everyone, by him constantly prodding and probing us to follow in his footsteps.

My aunt lived alone in that old house and always fussed over us when we came over.

Especially me.

Tina was everyone’s favorite—she took after our father and possessed his same charm and charisma—except to Aunt Mary, who saw a lot of herself in me.

I recalled the games we used to play, where we got to live as children and slept late, ate midnight feasts, and played hide and seek until we explored every nook and cranny of the old place.

I felt my tense muscles relax and the stress of being featured in the most recent issue of the Buzzing Bell fade away.

When I looked up at my sister, I found her smiling up at me.

“Better?” she said.

“Yes. Thanks.”

“It’s an honor, if anything,” Tina said, “to be featured in that old rag.”

“You would say that,” I snorted. “You’re the one obsessed with celebrities.”

Tina shrugged her slender shoulders.

In truth, she’d wound up in the magazine more times than most celebrities—though she’d never been the main event.

She could be found at all the top celebrity bashes clinging to the arm of one celebrity or another.

It wasn’t the fame she wanted—though it would come as a welcome bonus—it was being kept by a handsome famous guy that everyone looked up to.

She was our father reincarnated, though I would never insult her that way.

“Tomorrow, you’ll be lining everyone’s bins,” Tina said. “It’s the way celebrity goes.”

She hopped from one job to another and was lucky she could even afford this place.

She suffered from a severe and constant case of FOMO—that’s Fear Of Missing Out—and was always under the impression there was something better out there for her than wherever she found herself at that moment.

“Now, hold still,” Tina said. “You’re in desperate need of some makeup.”

She was about to begin applying it when she glanced down.

“Wait. You’re not going dressed like this, are you?”

I’d put it on before coming to my sister’s apartment and noticed the magazine’s cover on the newsstand on the way over.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s hideous!”

“It’s comfortable.”

Tina shook her head.

“No, no, no. This will not do. I’ll never understand how someone can create such gorgeous events and yet not know how to dress! Up! Up! Go into my bedroom right now. I’m going to have to dress you myself.”

I argued but Tina could be very tough and pushy when she wanted to be.

She corralled me into her bedroom and yanked my brown woolen dress off over my head and tossed it in the corner.

I quickly scooped it up and folded it.

“Don’t bother folding it,” Tina said. “You should donate it.”

“It’s my favorite!”

“I have favorite pajamas but that doesn’t mean I’m going to head out to the biggest shindig in the social calendar in it!”

Tina selected a dress from her extensive wardrobe, pulled it on over my head, and appraised me thoughtfully before trying another.

She went through five before returning to the very first one—a habit she always did when dressing me—before doing my hair and makeup.

“I don’t need all this,” I said. “I’m just the event organizer.”

“Hush,” Tina said. “I need all my powers of concentration to make you look half decent.”

Ten minutes later, she straightened up and opened the wardrobe so I could see myself in the full-length mirror on the inside.

“Well?” she said. “What do you think?”

She’d chosen a sexy red number that matched the bright red lipstick she’d put on my lips.

“I look… okay,” I said.

Tina rolled her eyes.

“‘Okay’ is what single moms look like when they pop down to the supermarket. You look astounding. That’s the word you’re looking for. I wish you could learn to make the most of what you have. And believe me, you have a lot to work with.”

“It’s a bit… revealing, don’t you think?” I said, tugging on the hem that barely reached my knees.

“That’s what we want. How is a guy going to notice you otherwise?”

“I don’t want a guy to notice me. It’s all about the event.”

Tina sighed loudly.

“As I keep telling you, you’re a personification of the event. You’re as much on show as the event itself.”

It was easy to forget my sister had enjoyed a private education growing up, the same way that I had.

But where I had inherited my grandfather’s work ethic, she’d inherited our father’s charm and desire to be liked by everyone.

When he finally accepted his daughters weren’t born with penises, he set to grooming us to run the family business of managing a dozen shopping malls.

It wasn’t until he passed away that we realized just how much his lavish lifestyle had cost.

He left a tidal wave of debt to pay off and we’d had to sell everything we owed.

The holiday homes, the business assets, the private plane, the sports cars, just about everything to meet the banks’ requirements.

I had one item that belonged to me and not the family, but even that I struggled to hold onto.

My aunt’s house down on the coast.

As she’d never married or had any children, she’d left it to me.

Of all her nephews and nieces, I was the only one who really enjoyed spending time with her.

I intended on retiring there as soon as I earned enough in the city to make the necessary repairs.

I could avoid the city’s fake glitz and glamour and live a clean, simple, and peaceful life.

So far, I’d managed to fix up the living room, kitchen, and one of the bedrooms, but there were still many others that needed doing up.

Too many.

“So, how about we get a move on and get to this shindig?” Tina said.

I didn’t want to go, but try telling that to my socialite sister.

The party wasin full swing when we rocked up.

I often took my sister to the events I organized, not only because my life was work and I had no dates to take with me, but because no one appreciated going to these things more than my socialite fairy sister.

She loved celebrities and dreamed of snagging one.

I supposed it was a hangover from our early life living in a rich and comfortable family.

These kinds of parties were the sort we should have been hosting, but since our family’s bankruptcy, this was the only way she could get a taste of them.

Tina greeted each of the guests as if she actually knew them, and although the celebrities were initially unsure of who she was, a quick run of their eyes over her sexy body soon made them realize they’d met somewhere before.

I felt the music’s bass roll up my legs, a live act from one of the hottest bands of the day.

They’d cost a fortune but now I could see it was worth it.

Tina snatched a couple of cocktails from a passing silver platter and handed me one.

“Just do me a favor tonight,” I said.

“What’s that?”

I lowered my voice so no one could overhear me.

“Don’t leave me alone with these people.”

“What?” Tina yelled, leaning closer.

Perhaps lowering my voice in a jumping party wasn’t the most sensible thing to do, so I cupped my hand around her ear and said:

“I said, don’t leave me by my—”

Tina squealed and spilled half her drink as she spotted someone across the room.

She screamed a celebrity’s name that rhymed with “buck minster” but I couldn’t make out exactly what it was.

I doubted even whales could have picked up her frequency.

“I loved his last album,” she said. “I have to go say hello to him!”

“No, wait—”

But she’d already taken off, bolting into the writhing throng of people that vibrated to the music.

So much for not having to be here by myself, I thought.

I spotted one of my assistants, Clarissa, who wore a headset and carried a clipboard tucked under her toned arm.

Relieved at finally having something to do, I approached her.

“How’s everything going?” I asked.

“Everything’s going to plan, as always.”

Clarissa was a hard worker and eager to please.

She was fantastic at organizing but lacked the creative flair required that could take an event from good to great.

Fresh out of university, I took her under my wing, sensing she wouldn’t quit when the hours became prohibitively long.

I wiped the sweaty palms on my dress, feeling uncomfortable not having something to do.

“Anything I can help with?” I said.

Clarissa looked me over and shook her head.

“Everything’s fine. No need to worry.”

I’m not worried, I thought. I’m bored!

The crowd roared, the lights flashed, and every time I turned around, I spotted another tech CEO or famous celebrity.

They all knew my name, of course, but none knew what I looked like.

I’d worked hard to ensure I lived in relative anonymity and that bitch journalist threatened to ruin it all!

I swear to God, if I ever clapped eyes on her again…

“Well, if it isn’t the star of my latest piece!”

I shuddered before I turned to see her.

Her voice was distinctive, high-pitched and shrill, that cut through the surrounding din like a chainsaw.

Robyn Jensen swam from the crowd, stunning in a dress Tina no doubt would have appreciated, the highlights of her sparkly makeup catching the glitter at her wrists and throat.

I stiffened at the sight of her.

She was the Buzzing Bell gossip columnist and had hounded me for years, prying for exclusives, sensing I must have some inside celebrity stories I wasn’t letting on about.

What’d begun as subtle prods soon turned into outright confrontation, telling me I ought to work with her, that her free publicity could slingshot me into the upper echelons of society.

All I had to do was feed her morsels of exclusive stories.

She represented the very worst of the so-called “elite” and cared nothing for real substance, only superficial gossip.

I never wanted anything to do with her, and for years, I thought I’d done the right thing by shutting her out and turning down her offers.

And then she wrote that piece in the Buzzing Bell, revealing my family’s bankruptcy one sordid detail after another.

I’d expressly banished her from the guest list and wondered how she’d managed to find her way in here.

I glanced in Clarissa’s direction to get the security guards and have her thrown out, but my assistant had already moved on.

“How are you finding the party?” I said coldly.

I honestly couldn’t care less about her opinion.

“Wonderful, as always,” Robyn Jensen said, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“Good. If you’ll excuse me, I have some very important things to arrange.”

Like finding the security guards and having your ass thrown out of here.

“Oh, I think we both know better than that,” Robyn Jensen said. “Your events are so well organized they could make a drill sergeant blush.”

She knew as much about my methods as I did.

She might have been complimenting me but it only made me gnash my teeth.

“There’s always something that turns up unexpectedly and needs to be dealt with,” I snapped. “Excuse me.”

“That’s a shame,” Robyn Jensen said, swirling her drink. “If you had the time, I could have told you about the very latest piece of gossip I discovered about you and your family.”

She took a sip on her cocktail and peered at me over its rim.

“It’s quite scandalous.”

A shiver shook my entire body.

This was why I didn’t want anyone prying into my private affairs.

Who knew what kind of things my father had gotten up to in the past, what secrets he had.

I didn’t want to know what they were.

Our family had suffered enough.

But the look in Robyn Jensen’s eye made me realize how much I didn’t want to be at her whim.

“It’s funny,” she said. “You look around at all these rich and powerful people and you assume every aspect of their lives is just as happy as the one they present to the public. But it never turns out to be the case. There’s always one part of their lives that fails to live up to their reputation. And I have a very good nose at sniffing out that depravity.”

I leaned in close.

“What do you want?” I growled.

“Me? Nothing. I don’t want anything from you. Not any longer. And neither will anyone else once my little secret is published.”

She took another sip of her drink.

Not thinking, I lashed out, and knocked the glass from her hand.

It smashed on the floor but Clarissa was there in an instant, standing over it to prevent any of the guests from cutting themselves.

She spoke into her headset to have someone come and tidy it up immediately.

The party continued and I hadn’t removed my eyes from Robyn Jensen, who likewise stared back.

“It appears you’ve spilled your drink,” I said tonelessly.

“It appears so,” Robyn Jensen said. “So how about I spill a little of the morsel that’ll be spread across the front covers of the magazine before long? Two words: Unpaid debt.”

I blinked in surprise.

Bad? Yes. But not as career-destroying as it might have been.

“We don’t have any unpaid debts. We paid everything off.”

“Not everything. It turns out your father had some… unsavory acquaintances that have still yet to be paid. It might have gone unnoticed if a concerned member of the public hadn’t informed the lenders of it. Soon, you’ll be getting a call from a certain money lender and he’s not the type to send out notices.”

My blood turned cold.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Robyn Jensen said, “I must get another drink. Ta.”

She sauntered off, leaving me in a poor, desperate mess.

Surely even my father couldn’t have been stupid enough to borrow money from loan sharks?

I wouldn’t have put it past him.

The reputable banks had turned him down, after all.

If he was desperate for funds, where else could he turn?

I turned toward the crowd and the direction Tina had disappeared in.

I couldn’t handle this alone.

We’d need to figure out what we were going to do, if there was any truth to Robyn Jensen’s accusation.

Within ten minutes, my communicator rang.

An anonymous number.

My hand shook as I raised it to my ear.

“H-Hello?” I said.

The voice on the other end of the line was deep and slippery as oil.

He confirmed my deepest fears.

My father did have outstanding debt, and the amount was enough to make a banker blush.